Once a month, like it or not

So, you've all been busy I see. Good.

Me too. Sorry there's been no updates here, I comment more than I update. Is that like saying "I like to watch" ? b/c that's not what I mean. Maybe it's a perfectionism thing, if I'm just commenting here and there, who cares? (Except for the poor folks whose blogs I'm littering all over.) It's just that there are so many spectacular blogs out there and I feel that mine is just a bit more like a diary sometimes. I don't have a lot of web skillz, but I am a good student and could figure out a lot. If only I had the time. Plus I'm too cheap to sign up for a Typepad account so I can give my blog a catchy web address. Meh.

Whazzup? Lessee, last month Annie turned 40, I hope. Who's she? A girl I went to school with for grades 1-12. I don't know why, but I can always remember her birthday (March 7). I never really had a crush on her. Maybe it's an Oedipus complex derivative. Her mom was one of my favorite teachers in Junior High. She didn't take shit from anybody.

Last month I also turned 40. Huzzah. Birthdays don't seem fun anymore. At least not this year. Wifey had my birthday 4 days early on a weekend because The Boy and I were headed out West to go skiing later that week and it would probably be too hectic.

Man, was she ever right.

Wifey's father had a quintuple bypass two days before we left. He needed an annual checkup, and part of the process is an *ahem* "internal exam". Well, at his age, before they give you that special treatment they want to make sure you're tough enough so they also give you a stress test to make sure your ticker is up to shnuff. He failed that, so they wanted to do a heart cath. They did that on Tuesday, and said "You're not leaving, you're having an emergency bypass tomorrow morning. Make things right with your maker." You can imagine the alarms that type of situation sets off. Wifey left early that next morning, so how to get The Girl to her after school let out for Spring Break? Thankfully, her friend was headed in that direction so that part worked out.

Grampsy did well at first, got released from the hospital after 4 days when it was expected that he'd be in for a week. Three days later there were numerous complications so he's back in, but making some progress. But here's the kicker: in 2 days nearly her entire family (ours included) leaves for Ireland. On a trip that Grampsy requested two years ago. In honor of their 50th wedding anniversary this year.

He can't go.

In the night before the bypass, he and Nana talked and decided that we all should still make the trip without them. I say "Bully!" but since I'm outside "the circle of trust" so-to-speak I can't really voice an opinion. It just doesn't make sense to me to take the trip; it was his idea, his wish, to go in the first place. He should go, so the trip should be postponed. Plus, I fear that things will take a turn for the worse while we're all over there as some of the complications point to congestive heart failure. Since we went to Colorado, The Boy has not had a chance to visit Grampsy yet, and I'd hate to have the worst happen without him having a chance to see him just one more time as The Girl got to see him since she was there with Wifey. What to do?

So, Colorado was fun. Nebraska was great on the way out, it was dark the whole time we were driving through so there was no wind. Payback was on the way back, of course. But the wind was slightly at the tail so it was manageable. The weather while we were there was nice, maybe a bit too warm and slushy at the base but we can deal with that. We got a bit of snow on Tuesday, but the real stuff greeted us on the morning we left to return:



Is it difficult to see why I didn't want to come back? SERENITY NOW!

G-zus! Hello, from R. Van Winkle

Just haven't been up to it, folks. For more than a month now, I've just had too much to do 'round here. So, today's gonna be a bit of a jumble. Here goes:


Sad news: Bob- Man, I wish you the best and all the goodness this world can muster. It seems shallow to only be able to say Godspeed to your lovely wife as she has passed onto that next journey already. You're one of those fine folks I hope to bump into someday as I walk life's path.

C is for sux: Bob's Mary, Sharon's Joe, Bart's Lois, Bill's Lois, Wifey's co-worker, Jodes brother, Kari's friend, all afflicted and it troubles me so. Nothing makes you feel more helpless than watching this disease march along. And today Dana Reeve leaves behind a 13 year old after losing her battle with lung cancer. She didn't even smoke, how the hell is that?

Uncomfortable: Our wonderful neighbor was able to move into a care facility this past weekend, the same facility where his 60 year old son is. Last summer, when his wife was dying, he had tried to get her into the same facility but the disease was much too swift. After things settled down last fall and he was able to think about it, he decided to put his name on the list for the next available unit. I think it was a good move, the last few years have been quite a rough road for him and it shows in his step and demeanor. The uncomfortable in this situation is helping move him to this facility while another son (that seems to be quite troubled mentally) is still living in his house. The eldest son has been very helpful in organizing his finances and taking care of all the legal issues, but there has been some, well, "tension" in the conversations he's had with the occupant son. I didn't know what to expect, but wanted to be there to try and make the process move as swiftly as possible and limit any confrontations if I could. It went wonderfully smooth, thank God. The next hurdle was to be today- Eldest son was to have Occupant son served with an eviction notice. A sad, but necessary step needed to tidy up the loose-ends in Dad's estate, and one that will hopefully get this guy moving towards helping himself. I have no information on how that went, and wonder if I will be able to get to sleep tonight.

Listening to: Doves, Surfjan Stevens (not bad, when you finally get to listening to it), The GO! Team, Cary Brothers, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!, Weezer, Gorillaz

Wondering: If my Spartans will be able to put a complete game together sometime soon. Madness, I tell you!

Longing for: Colorado. Copper Mountain has had H-f'n-UGE amounts of snow this year. Please don't let it melt until Tax reckoning day.

Surprised by: CRASH taking best picture. I could care less, really. I haven't seen any of the candidates, don't care for the politics (yes, that means YOU, Mr. Clooney), but given all the blathering hype centered on the cowpokes I was simply surprised. Kudos to Larry McMurtry & Diana Ossana, especially McMurtry. I enjoyed watching one of his earlier works this weekend (Lonesome Dove), it gets me every time. Although, when you think about it, there are many similarities between Tommy Lee Jones' Woodrow Call and Heath Ledger's Ennis Del Mar. (At least based on the clips I've seen for Brokeback.) The slow, deliberate way of speaking. Almost grimacing. You've come a long way, cowboy.

Loathing: I haven't started our taxes yet. 'Nuff said. Also, this is the busy time at work, and I am SOOOO sick of customers, SAP, etc. I'm buried by piles of automated data and it's my job to find that needle. It just doesn't get any easier, every year more and more are moving to it and we have no system to adapt. Lovely.

Loving: Neigbor's son lives near a Hershey employee. Brought Orange-Chocolate Kit-Kats and Strawberries & Cream Hershey bars that are being test-marketed somewhere in the U.S. of A. You have no idea how delish those were. If you see them, buy them. You won't be disappointed.

Missing: Bloggers that have disappeared. Shandie (Not lost, she just moved! Thanks JL-)Teri, Tiffany, Storm. And also the two sisters (one's husband was in the military) and their mother - all fell silent on July 14, 2005. Gary who went to live in a cabin in the Cascades last summer. All were good reads, I miss them and especially for the 3 in the military family I wish them well.

Reading: NOT ENOUGH!

Really liking: My Capital One freebie: BOSE Tri-port headphones. Can't wear 'em in public, but incredibly rich sound.


Sick in Atlanta is no way to go through life, son.

Memorable Media Moment

Another installment of my "Stupidity in Media" theme, today courtesy of CBS. I'm watching "Sunday Morning", as I am wont to do on a Sunday morning. It's nearing the end of the broadcast and a commercial blitz is on when it's pierced by a spot of self-serving hype:

Millions of teens post information on MySpace.com,
but predators are out there too, and the danger is real.

Monday, see why more people are watching CBS Evening News with Bob Schieffer.

Now, that does truly talk about a serious issue, one which I don't mean to ridicule in any way whatsoever. It's not that I have a problem with that message at all, because there are all sorts of creeps out there that parents should be aware of, like this guy for example. Now there's a real winner to write home to Mom about, and at this point one can only wonder how the poor girl happened to meet him. I'm sure he didn't set out to kill her, maybe her death resulted from his panic after he killed the cop. The only thing for sure at this point is that she's no longer among the living, and that is sad.

So, where exactly is my problem with this commercial from CBS Evening News? Well, let's just say it's got to do with a little thing called "presentation". You know- that part of a message which impacts upon its ability to be delivered effectively. In this case, as the narration proceeds it's accompanied by a myriad of images: fingers typing on a keyboard; "myspace.com" appearing letter-by-letter in a browser's address bar; the phrase "THE DANGER IS REAL" appearing in all-caps and bold, drifting slowly upward on the screen; and then- as the last sentence pours forth, urging you to tune-in Monday night- a slow-motion image of the smiling host of CBS Evening News appears.

It's a common thing in the industry to use such an image, for some reason newscasters can't be taken seriously unless they smile in slow-motion. The problem is, Bob Schieffer has a weird, Howdy Doody marionette-esque quality to his smile, and well- IMHO, it just affected the message in such a negative way. Here, you judge for yourself:



See what I mean?

Now to be fair to Old Bob, his eyes weren't closed for the entire slow-motion clip of that unfortunate grin forming on his face. Rather, as I moved frame-by-frame through the clip on my DVR I spied that one frame that seemed to only enhance my position that this unfortunate grin on the face of the host took away from the message. I mean, look at it, age hasn't been too good to Bob. He almost looks like a giant tortoise with that neck of his. And I'm sorry- but that grin just looks euphoric to me, and rather than think of serious news about a serious issue I could only laugh because it just looked like they put some sort of twisted pedophile up on the screen.

Ewww-

I LOVE THE 80s

To copy His Greatness,(aka Humorist Mike) I post today for your viewing pleasure a relic from my past. Back in tha' day when I was in college (hint: it's before the 90s) there was a local artist/pseudo-activist named Mark Heckman who created a series of sometimes humorous billboards promoting this cause or that. Often they were regarding serious issues like medical waste dumping, the result of which would wash-up on the nearby shores of Big Blue.

As this picture indicates, he's not really promoting a cause other than himself on this particular example. But OH MY! how ironic the choices he made must seem given today's history. The times, they really are a-changin'. . . .
(My apologies for the grainy, historic look to this picture. It was taken with a disk camera [Anybody remember those?] The film is about the size of a candy dot, so by the time you blow it up to viewable size you're at about a gazillion times magnification.)

========================================================

Folks, it's going to be another quiet week from Jim (go ahead, enjoy the silence!) Got some travelling to do, hopefully it goes better than LAST week (NWA, get yer sh!t together RIGHT NOW!) Peace all, and maybe some prosperity too.

Toodles-

There's possibly a chance. Maybe.

Reading Erin's latest post tonight reminded me of the fun I had watching the weatherman on the local station just this evening. I really like the guy, he's pretty steady-eddy even when he's delivering news of the apocalypse from the 'Storm Center'. Sometimes I just get tired of all the BREAKING NEWS! SHOCKING! garbage all the time (good band, Garbage.) Back to tonight- he's rolling out the 5 day shortcast and I swear he says "perhaps" about 6 or 8 times in a span of just seconds. SECONDS, I TELL YOU! I think he's finally cracked under the pressure of not being able to tell what the heck's going to happen tomorrow, or in the next 10 minutes for that matter (it's a Michigan thing,) so he's peppering his weathercasts with words of doubt to allow him to weasel his percentages higher. (See, Erin? Percentages.) I wonder if he's like Jim Carrey's part in Dumb&Dumber- you know, "So you're tellin' me there's a chance." THAT kind of optimism.

To help my boy out, I hereby offer a brief list of CYA lingo in the hopes that he can more effectively cover his tracks:

• maybe
• mayhap
• perchance
• debatable
• doubtful
• indefinite
• arguable
• questionable
• borderline
• chancy
• clouded (oh, the double-entendre)
• doubtful
• dubious
• inconclusive
• hazy
• misty
• cloudy
• unsettled
• unstable
• FANTASTICAL! (for those really special storms)

Good night all. Or maybe not.

Good Ol' Sol

It is truly amazing what a sunny day can do to knock S.A.D. back a few steps. It's freaking unbelievable what a sunny day that's 50 degrees can do. I can't even imagine how weird that must make the wonderful folks in places like San Diego and Key West feel to hear someone excited about 50 degrees. Probably about as weird as I felt one time down in Orlando when I sat on a bench in front of our hotel reading the paper, enjoying the 8a.m. sunshine in a t-shirt and jeans, when I looked over and noticed the valet shivvering in a buttoned-up shearling jacket and knit skully. Ferreal!

Today was one of those days that, no matter how much stress is building at work, all was right in the world thanks to our good friend the sun. Even the gloomy December statistics I heard today couldn't dampen nature's enthusiasm: Less than 10% of possible sunshine, 18 days without one minute of sunshine, and we've had 50 straight days with measurable precipitation. That last one is a record-breaker; the old record was only 35 consecutive days.

I'm starting to give some serious thought to a career change and becoming a shrink, there has GOT to be some serious money being spent on couch sessions around here. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Peace.

And sunshine!

The Magic Number is 15

Numbers are great. Just ask my son, who can tell you that a quadrangle is a polygon with 4 sides, and has many varieties: rectangle, rhombus, square, parallelogram and trapezoid. G-ZUS! I can't believe they're teaching this shtuff to 5th graders nowadays. But all props to the fine concerned folks over at his elementary school, they're truly a great group.

When I was a kid, for some reason I always got #13. No matter how much I told myself that 13 isn't a cursed number, I plainly SUCKED at basketball. So if you think 13 is just another number, change your errant ways and avoid all things 13. And take a look at the elevator panel the next time you're at a hi-rise hotel.

Magic Johnson is one of those cool dudes I really would like to meet. 32 is a number I will forever associate with His Greatness. Man, my Spartans were awesome back then. They didn't look anything like that today.

Today, we finally saw the sun after 15 days without a single second of sunshine. 15 days people! Living this close to Big Blue, we come to appreciate the moderating effects of all that holy water during the summertime, but in the winter we really have to pay some bills. We were getting some giant snow until just before Christmas and then someone turned up the heat and all that stopped. I have to apologize to Jason and Beth for blaming all our melting snow on their Christmas trip to Nebraska, I was out of my mind. Strangely, the wind calmed and clouds just kept coming. Sadly, I was looking forward to another day of Cloudcuckooland as this would be day #16, tying or breaking the record depending on who you ask. I'm a firm believer in SAD, and it was painfully obvious as I was psychotically gleeful in the bright moments following old Sol's re-emergence. I was clinging to the hope of another 24 hours without sunshine so I could participate in a record-breaking event, and I could look back over the years and recall how I was there that day, January 8th, 2006, when many were convinced there really is no God.

The hits just keep on comin'

So yesterday was my family's Christmas thing, and it started surreal enough. After driving almost 2 hours in freezing rain leftovers, unpacking all the goodies from our car, parking it and finally getting my butt inside, I made the rounds exchanging pleasantries with the 20 or so members who were already there. Nearly finished with my loop I spy my dad at the end of the drive , one foot in the road, waving to a fire truck to turn into our driveway.

"Odd," methinks. "Why is a firetruck pulling into the drive?" I ask. Well, the answer was my Uncle had fainted. As the paramedics were tending to him he went down again and they could barely find a pulse. An ambulance came and they struggled with the gurney as he was in the kitchen at the table. The good thing was one of my brothers is a P.A. and was taking good care of him til the help arrived, and also knew quite a bit of his medical info. I'm not sure if this was because of a close relationship with my Uncle, or if this was a result of other negatives in my cousin's family recently, but I don't really care.

The crazy thing is just over a week ago, one of his sons had some pain in his chest and went to the hospital; they found 5 blockages and operated on him the very next morning. My brother said to me a few days ago that he told each member of their family to get some tests done as this type of heart issue is genetic- my uncle's first heart-attack came at the age of 32. He's had 2 or 3, and at least 2 heart surgeries. The scary thing is one of his siblings has already had the tests after speaking with my brother, (he won't tell me what the results were, but he's also sworn me to secrecy that I even know the cousin had the test at all.) I hope for the best, but at the same time I'm a bit uneasy with the serious undertones of the secrecy. With luck, maybe the risks can be greatly reduced through diet, exercise, and our good friend chemistry.

Uncle is feeling much better, but will probably need to have a pacemaker. Thankfully, everyone was able to keep the kids distracted; I would hate for them to have had a strong memory of a bad thing happening at Christmas.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Upon a Midnight clear

Damn, those company Christmas parties.

This year, I went to my company's party stag as Wifey was not feeling real well after fighting the CRUD for over a week. All told, the party was a great time. It was on a private floor of this multi- level drunk-plex, so when it came time to shut it down we could just go to one of the other levels. There were almost 20 of us having a great time so we kep-it-goin downstairs.

I was pimped-out pretty well in black on black (it's slimming, right?) with a deep gold shirt under the camel hair jacket. So I'm talking to a cohort from another division, drink in my right hand where it usually is, left hand in my pocket (where it usually is if I'm talking to someone on my left) and as I agree with what he's saying my head is nodding. I may have been nodding emphatically as a result of a good bass track thumping at the same time. Anywho- down the stairs comes this cougar (you know, she's on the prowl and looking for a fleshy target...) and as we were near the stairs I glanced in that general direction, my head still a-bobbing in the "yup, yer right, I hear ya" mode. The cougar says something indistinguishable- it might have been a warning, I couldn't see if her ears were back or not due to the seriously spiked 'do- and then she pounces, grabbing my arm and tearing my left hand outta it's resting place.

"YOU'RE MARRIED!!" the cougar screams. Yes, I am. Was this some sort of guessing game? Should I blurt out that she's divorced and dropped her kids off at the laundramat? Nah, that would spoil all the fun I think she had envisioned. So instead, I just asked if she was doing a poll or something. "You were trying to hook-up and you're married!" she screamed again. Oh- NOW I get it. A guy nodding means he's trying to screw you with his eyes. Wow, dating must be really hard nowadays. So I fight the cougar off and it scampers into the bushes to use the loo.

The cohort and I finish our conversation and maybe 5 minutes later the cougar springs unsuspectingly from the rocky ledge she must be walking nowadays, circling her prey. "I didn't mean to scare you" she purrs. "It's just you're the best looking guy here and you were nodding at me," she continues. [I need to clarify something for you folks: this place holds 1,500 people easy. There's 4 or 5 places to eat, most of which become some sort of nightclub. I'm on the high end of the age brackets present, my six-pack is usually in the fridge, there's NO way she's mistaking me for someone THAT good looking. But thanks for the positive stroke nonetheless.] The cougar is still circling distantly, both implying disinterest and looking for that one wrong move so she can strike again, hoping to fell her prey. "So can you dance?" This purr sounded breathy, but maybe I'm slurring her speech. Anyway, I tell her yeah, but I'm no good at it.

Apparently, that's what cougars prefer, as this one latched onto my wrist and dragged me out to the dimly lit dance floor. There also must be a specific way to dance with a cougar, cuz this one left no question as to where my hands were supposed to be: firmly planted on her ASS! Are you kidding me?! Where was this species of wild game back when I was in college? If that's not bad enough, when you lift your hand from a cougar's ass it uses its lightning-fast reflexes to bat your hand back onto its ass. Through all this uncomfortable time, I WAS able to find out that the cougar's got kids the same ages as mine (I still had to resist the urge to ask her what laundramat she dropped them off at, though!) As hints weren't striking their target, I distracted the cougar with the ol' "Coworker, five o-clock" warning. It worked perfectly: the cougar spun 180 to protect her booty- er, prey. Released from my bonds, my hands and I bounded back to the herd.


Now I know why the male members of the species are prone to that "I don't see nuthin' " gaze just above the heads of the crowd. I think it's got something to do with avoiding eye contact or playing dead or sumthin'. So fellas, protect yourselves. Never go to the watering hole alone, all eyes are on you. I'm one of the lucky ones- this rabid animal not only attacked prey in a crowd but she also attacked in the light. I learned from watching "Old Yeller" when I was a kid that only rabid animals will attack prey that's in the light of a fire or daylight.

Still counting my blessings-

Today's message

A pretty creative advertisement from the folks at Hobby Lobby. Have a great day, all!

Suicide just sucks, people!

Jazzy Jen sums it up best: horrible. I'm talking about the tragic suicide in the family of Indianapolis Colts head coach Tony Dungy, his own son! I can't imagine the pain they must be in. I grew up in the same town as Tony but never knew him as he was about 8 years older than I. My brother played against him in high school and I can only remember that he said he was quick. I remember how proud of him the town was as he moved into the college and professional levels. Tony was somewhat of a hero to me, such a successful person coming from my blue collar town; a town left behind by the auto industry. He was one of those few bright spots I recall growing up. It really is so sad that this kind of thing has happened to such a great person. Jen also posted this link to a well-written article on ESPN.com.

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I know that many of you have been touched by suicide's suffocating tentacles at some point in your lives. If not, please count your blessings and then count them again because you are truly lucky. The anguish, doubt and rage you experience have few equals. I've lost more than I care to ever count: a good family friend, a woman I loved, and I nearly lost my sister, too. There were others I knew from high school but were not necessarily close to; each was one too many. Thankfully, I was spared the most grisly facets of their deaths as they did not occur when I was nearby; however the pain of not being able to pay my respects and mourn with the support of others affected by each loss will remain forever.

I am thankful, too, that I had 5 minutes to kneel beside, pray for, cry, and, well - SEE Mick's face one more time. I could not attend his funeral as my brother had literally JUST entered recovery that week, and my employer at that time would only allow me one day off. As much as it pained me to "abandon" their family at such a disastrous time, I felt that it would be better to be there for my brother, his life could still be saved. My family and Mick's were very close; our parents were the equivalent of "best friends" when you're in elementary school, so I knew him well. We were the same age, went to the same schools, and spent weeks during the summer at their cottage on Lake Michigan. The shadow of mental illness slowly set-upon Mick after his father died when we were in the 10th grade, and through the next 6 years it marched- growing steadily and without quarter- until his life ended that Friday in June.

I was in Albany visiting my fiance' that weekend, and clearly remember my Mom's voice- the hesitation and deep breath she took to brace herself- when she called to give me the news. I had heard that only once before when my couin's first child died from SIDS just minutes after he dropped him off at their daycare. "What's wrong?" I asked as I braced myself. Being locked into an arline itinerary, my only chance for visitation was Sunday evening after my flight got back. I was practically psychotic after my flight arrived early in the evening, I still had to get a taxi to my car, and then drive the 80 minutes back to our hometown.

I arrived in the fading twilight as the last family members were leaving and the director was actually locking-up for the night. I don't really remember parking my car, or closing the door, or even turning it off. I can only clearly remember hugging his sister and falling apart from the explosion of emotion and the thought of not arriving in time. Even after being allowed inside for a few minutes, . . . just not how I wanted to say goodbye.

Mick is buried in a rolling cemetary near where his father is also buried in a quiet corner under majestic old pines. When the wind moves through the trees it sounds as though the spirits are murmuring, yet I can't for the life of me make out their message.

****************************************************
I found out about Karan's death when I returned to college to start my second year. We had met and briefly dated the April before as the school year was finishing. Our plans for the summer took us in separate directions so things ended amicably enough. I ran into her roommate from the previous term and asked about Karan and was met with a simple "She didn't come back." I knew Karan was having a hard go of things that previous term so I just put it in my mind that she dropped out, another one shaken loose from the tree of higher learning. I was not prepared for the news her ex-roomie gave me later that night after she pulled me aside, telling me that there was something she wanted to tell me that afternoon but didn't feel it was the best setting. (Yeah, somehow it was better to pull me aside and break it to me easy when I'm half in the bag, and alone in the dark.) I can't be bitter though, she was very deliberate in not telling me that afternoon and I really can't imagine how heavy the burden of knowing what she did must have been. Poor timing aside, the flood of emotion she released by telling me was just plain huge.

I feel bad that I didn't know her family, that I've never made the time when I drive by her hometown to stop at the library and get the details about where they laid her to rest so I can visit and pay my respects, that the pain in her life was so great that she put the car in the garage and let it carry her to a better place, that her family didn't put an obituary in the paper so her friends could say goodbye, that THAT better place was where no one could ever see her again, that I could never see her again, hold her again, be intoxicated by her presence again, talk til a new day dawned again. Never, again.

Although there are many signs of trouble in someone's life, one of the hardest things to accept is that the average Jim, Jane and Jerry are not trained to see them and often NOBODY sees it coming, and that it is not their fault when someone they love attempts or commits suicide. You learn from it, but you can't let it kill you too because it is what they wanted, and they take careful steps to succeed. Often those that don't are crying out in pain. Before he died, Mick made a number of phone calls to various people, one to my brother asking if they could meet for lunch. Unfortunately he was unable to meet with Mick that day, and Mick died that night. Again- there was no way to see that Mick was saying goodbye, but it haunts my brother still.

Let those that you love KNOW it, help those that need it, respect those that are suffering from mental illness and learn more about it to help reduce the stigma and the shame.

Flippin Idiots

I am a candidate for Road Rage Class.

The scene: Saturday, 6pm. I'm late for the company Christmas party, Wifey was a late dropout due to the CRUD from hell still lingering so I was behind the 8-ball after calling the sitter to cancel (Wifey's choice, really!) So, I'm driving these city streets a bit fast, and come up behind a Chevy Abortion van (some call it the Astro, but have you ever ridden shotgun in the damn thing? WHERE does your right foot go?)

Anyway, the Chevy is doing 25, tic-toc-tic-toc I'm going nuts, but the thing shows me the light of day as it angles to the right curb while approaches a corner. "Ahhhh, finally the bugger's gonna make a right and get outta my way" I think to myself as I ease a bit left to clear its back bumper. Then, just as my car noses past his back bumper I see the left tail-light blink and the fecker's car is edging- no, turning- left, HARD!

Oh no you don't! Keep edging left and lay on the horn (the road was slippery with lake-effect grease, there was no way I would have been able to stop.) So, after I get my car under control I see in my mirror he's wiggling a bit, stops for a moment, and then hits the brights and guns after me. That's all I need.

He comes right up on me, flashes, etc., and tails me for a few miles. Really, what did he hope to accomplish? Lesson learned: give the ghetto cruiser plenty of time to make up his meth-head mind and stay back, WAY back.

Drive safe, all.

Peace~

KUDOS, MENUDOS

Gotta give props to the GVSU Football and Volleyball teams, capturing Division II National Championships on consecutive Saturdays. The ladies went to the hostile confines of Kearney, NE last weekend and beat the #1 ranked Nebraska-Kearney team on their home court. Not to be outdone, the men followed-up this weekend by winning the National crown for the 3rd time in 4 years, besting Northwest Missouri State by a score of 21-17.

Both Wifey and I earned our degrees from Grand Valley, and it's amazing to see this school progress from what was a 5,000 student population back in tha day (ok, late 80's for those counting) to a burgeoning student body somewhere north of 23,000 today. They say they want to stay in Division II, but I'm beginning to wonder what the NCAA has to say about that relative to the student population.



KUDOS ALSO TO THE BEARCATS OF NORTHWEST MISSOURI-----

Those guys played a great game. I honestly think they outplayed GVSU, especially when you consider that their student body is half the size of GVSU's (but GVSU has a large graduate program as well as regional campuses.) NWMSU barely made the playoffs with a record of 6-3, and then opened up a six-pack of whup-ass as they pounded their way through Division II's playoff bracket (who needs a BCS, anyway?) This team was inspired, and played all-out straight on football with awesome running, passing, catches and big-league hits that made me cringe from the comfort of the cushy furniture at my brother's house (great job hosting, bro'!)

The Bearcats fell just short, dropping a go-ahead touchdown pass in the end-zone and then two plays later completing a pass to the 4 yard line as time thankfully ran out. I think winning meant more to the Bearcats as they had tasted the National Championship twice before in 1998 and 1999; their vengeful march through their playoff bracket a strong testament to their capabilities. I almost feel that the Lakers 'escaped' with a victory, and would like for them to play for the National Championship again in 2006 to settle the matter. As the seniors on each team would no longer be there it wouldn't be the same, but you know what I mean.

So congrats to the Bearcats, they done good this year. And, I finally was able to see my alma mater take 'em on after a couple of near-misses. To next year: huzzah!

Picture time

Today's post is motivated by Tiffany. Visit, and often.

Her assignment was to post a picture from your youth. I just happened across some a few days ago, so this one was easy. Here goes. . . . . . .




Handsome l'il devil, huh? Look at the stylish, Metrosexual turtleneck and hairstyle. What a hottie!!

Season's Greetings and Happy Holidays to all.

Thanksgiving?! What Thanksgiving?

So yeah, it snowed like the bajeezus on Thanksgiving. Got the kiddies all worked-up into a frenzy, building snow bunkers under European Horn Bean trees (STILL holding onto all their leaves! Wretched Europeans. . . . . . ) the Christmas tree assembled and decorated, outdoor trimmings installed, and good behavior oooozing from their pores. The l'il cherubs!

This evening, under balmy springtime temps (you should see the weather man's color bars indicating the 40 degree drop in temps between here and Minnesota,) all the snow has melted except a few of the bumps which WERE the protective walls of the "West Side" bunkers. There's no sign of the "East Side" bunkers across the street, I think they scrammed under cover of night. . . .


Hey!

Did'ja hear??? Dumb-ass Matt Millen spackled another layer of Desitin on his whiney-hiney and fired Mariucci. Gotta love the fine folks in the Ford family for giving that bloated dork a 5 YEAR extension on his contract. (For the liberals out there who might be sports challenged, Millen is the equivalent of a fat George W.) Unbelievable. It's time for Old Man Bill to end our suffering and park his car in the garage with the engine running while talking strategy with Millen about how to build the perfect submarine sandwich.

Of course, to make it up to the Ford family, I have to give credit where credit is due. Have you seen this car?

Love it. Lovett? LUV. IT.

Of course, purchasing one would go against my self-proclaimed pragmatism whereby I WILL NOT purchase another new car. In my defense, we've outgrown the Focus. Yep, absolutely outgrown it. No way that little car can possibly meet our needs any more. Nope, gotta pull a Jefferson and move on up. Sometime.

So them's my bumps. See y'all down the road, Jack!

Open your mind

Checking-up on Storm's vaca, and she reports that she done went to a sooth-sayer. You know, a seer, diviner, prophetess, clairvoyant, medium, (ok- that's pushing it a bit. Did you see her picture?? No? Check again. Gaze into those eyes and I'm butta', I tell ya!) mind reader, mitt reader, oracle. Ya got guts, Storm (that's sisu to you Finns oot dere in da UP.) No, check that. Cojones.

I mean, that's like letting someone rifle through your underwear drawer. There's just too much for them to find out. (I'm talking about mine, not yours. You know what I mean. I hope.) Not even most trusted friends have access there, let alone a master mind-bender.

I've had 3 brushes with Clare Voyant, and it was like The Three Bears: this one's too hot, this one's too cold, and this one's juuuuust right. Please, I beg you, allow me to put it in bruinilogical order for you.

Scene 1- Cut to 1992, young DINNKs (double income, no kids) being jetted to glitzy, glorious Merrilville, IN so Wifey can interview with large conglomerate. Jimmy was out of sorts on this trip, a fish out of water. First of all, I had to swallow my pride; this would make our life "unconventional" in the Ward and June Cleaver sense of things. Next thing hard to shake was that feeling that Mitchell McDeere had in The Firm when he started to pick up on how the firm does everything for you (and this was BEFORE the movie came out.) While Wifey interviewed and tested, they had a realtor drive me around to see some areas (Valpo was nice), and a feeling of dread came over me when I saw something: a gated community. Things started clicking in my mind about something I had heard from a coworker who hit the fleece markets in Northern Indiana quite a bit, something about a pretty heavy supremacist area nearby, complete with their own "force". The guard shack at the gate definitely gave you the creeps. After I got back to the hotel, I needed to veg- but didn't want to hang in the room (THEY might be watching!) SO- wandering the lobby I come across a lady who interprets your handwriting. I will just say that it was pretty frightening how quick she was. But I will admit to not having a game-face on like Storm did. I don't play Texas Hold-em, for a very good reason.


Scene 2- Same DINNKs are in Chicago for a baseball weekend with mucho amigos. Doing the pub crawl from Wrigley Field back to Lincoln Park, we start hitting the pubs on Halstead and wander into the Corner Pocket. As luck would have it, just before we got there there was a fortune teller working a folding table at the corner. The girls saw it, and you could tell the train-wreck was on. We weren't in the pub for 5 minutes and they were pacing like a Yorkie on a windowsill hearing the faucet running after drinking a bottled water. It was killing them, so off they went. 20 minutes later they're back. And they're not talking. 2 of them got the bad news that "they're not the one". Wifey was told of our reproductive future. 1-2-3 I'm Out!


Scene 3- We're in college, so we're not DINNKs yet. Campus Life has a funnier-than-shit comedian/hypnotist in to work his magic on a Thursday night (I think his name was Tom DeLuca. If so, props to Tom!) I'd been hypnotized before, and needed no convincing of its capabilities. It's extremely powerful. But to see what he could do to those poor unsuspecting folks, how he could make them think they're completely naked up on stage at the mere utterance of a single word, or that they've caught the biggest marlin ever and they've got to reel. it. in. with. all. their. might. Mmm-mm. Nope. I'll just do some mescaline if I want to have my mind outta my body like that.

So that's the hot, cold, and juuuust right of it. The bad and the ugly was back in high school after a good family friend died when I was in 10th grade. Some time later, I heard that one of his daughters had been to a card reader months before he died and Clare Voyant flipped a death card or some Yu-gi-oh super power card like that. The card stopped her cold, she had a vision that she could see her with her sisters looking down and crying, and it seemed that they were kneeling.

He died of a massive heart-attack on the dance floor at a daughter's wedding. The family has been nearly destroyed since that time: suicide, drunkicide, etc. I wonder, what else did she see? Did she tell her everything? Did she see that his own brother would steal everything from their firm and leave his sister-in-law a pauper, with two still in school? Or did she see death's grip in his own family's future and remain silent, perhaps with the crooked grin seen on so many gypsy's faces in bad movies through the years?

For certain, I will never know. I'm still sorting issues, folding them neatly, and tucking them away in my underwear drawer.

In a BlogFog, and I can't find my dog

Wow, am I tardy. It's been what, two and a half weeks? During which time I've served myself heaping portions of all y'alls updates and gotten long in the tooth with my comments, but just couldn't come up with the time to git-r-dunne myself. It's like this: I'm tired. (My mind immediately shifts gears and I'm picturing Madeline Khan in a hot little number complaining about the thousands of men- again and again -all the coming and going, going and coming. . . [ let's face it, I'm tired.] She did that role so well. I miss her.)

SNAP! Back to reality- Things are piling up, had mucho travel in September/October/now, which means work piles up in the office and at home, Wifey and I were both gone last week (although Grandma of course attacked the laundry demon growling behind the pocket door, thanks Ma,) it's the busy season now so piles grow quicker than you can imagine, P-T conferences were today, Wifey's going "shopping" this weekend with the girls-in-laws, Good Buddy's moving, Li'l Bro's building a house, the Sibling Syndicate is debating when to have the family get-together for Christmas, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUGGGHHHHHHHHH!

I'M JUST LIKE YOU PEOPLE!!! (Most of you, anyways. Except I'm not quite as pre-occupied about sex as some of you seem to be. I am giving HNT some thought though. But that's all. Nothing more. Feel free to keep writing your stuff though, I think I'm going to learn a thing or three. Just don't stop. Just don't. Don't stop. )

So, the pic above is fog rolling-in along the shores of the Holy Water. Apologies for it being shot through the window screen, but it was damn damp outside at the time. I thought of it immediately when the word "fog" came to mind for this post's title.

CANCER-LIKE UPDATES
Brave Little Niece continues to do well, and is just now getting out of the wheelchair. I still can't believe they don't put casts on kids for this kind of injury, especially with them removing material from the tumor and the cyst. The leg just can't be that strong with all that bone excavated out. She is a trooper, though.

The bad news is a co-worker's son will now have to have his leg amputated. He had a bout with bone cancer, had treatments and a section removed, surgery to put a steel shaft in its place, grueling PT to get used to the thing, and now the leg is basically dead. Little circulation, no feeling, and prone to serious infection. Thankfully, there is still no sign of cancer, but geez! How much more can they take? Stay strong-

OFFICE CHAT, 'N SHIT
I just love our new IM at the office. I didn't think I would, but recently I spent a day at home and brought work with me. It's lengthy, but hey, you've stayed with me this long. The beginning is clipped off (I had to jump from a 2 person to 5 person session). . .

ME/... (Imagine Beavis&Butt-head voice)
Hm-hm-hm ha-ha. You said "hard", heh-heh-heh. you're 5
minutes too late.
ME/...
ME/... Is there anybody out there?
G #1/... where to busy laughing
G #1/... do you like my grammer!
ME/... Yeah, and your grammar's good too!
G #1/... I give up! I'm going back to the first grade.
BOSS LADY/... james james, what are you doing?
ME/... I've never met your Grammer. Is she nice? Wifey's
Granny was a terrific person, I bet your Grammer is too.
ME/... What do you mean, BOSS LADY?
G #2/... OK off the subject, So jimmy, if you get your work
done in the growler before 4, are you going to take the
offsppring in?
BOSS LADY/... you took the day off just so you could email and i/m?
ME/... Did [Vampiress] show up with the proper bagelage?
G #1/... Yes...[Vampiress] know's how to makes us happy!
ME/... No, I doubt I will bring the kids in. First, Girl M
doesn't get out until 3:50 or so. Then, how to go all the way
home and then be back at the CAN-tina in time for FORMER CO-WORKER's
send-off?
G #2/... what;s taking you so long jimmy?
ME/... Growler masterpieces can't be rushed, G #2.
G #2/... are you going to take a picture?
ME/... you know I don't work well under pressure
G #3/... What's this about the brown trout?
ME/... Picture??? I didn't know you cared. Maybe I can
work up another masterpiece and send a pic later
G #3/... Are the kids in the pool yet?
ME/... I sent the li'l bastards up the river.
G #3/... Ah, the magic of technology.
ME/... So glad you joined the party G #3
G #3/... I'll here for ya.
ME/... Has she seen all the earlier messages?
G #3/... No. Sniff...
G #1/... that's o.k. she doesn't need to bother.
G #3/... I think I know what the topic is....
ME/... G #1's being a party "pooper"
G #3/... ...one of my favorite.
BOSS LADY/... it's like a regular friday around here. james
might not be here physically, but in spirit. No, I don't think
she can see past notes, only what is typed after she gets here.
funny she knew what we were talking about.
G #3/... s.
ME/... h
ME/... i
G #3/... i
ME/... t
G #3/... t
BOSS LADY/... grammer again
ME/... quit reading my mind
G #1/... leave me alone!!
G #3/... OK. Back to the main topic....Plop
plop....fizz...fizz..oh what a relief it is...
ME/... yes, very refreshing
G #3/... So did you dress up as a BROWN M & M today?
BOSS LADY/... is Wifey home?
ME/... nope x 2
G #3/... p
G #3/... a
G #3/... r
G #3/...
G #3/... t
G #3/... a
G #3/... y
ME/... woo-hoo!
BOSS LADY/... have you started drinking yet?
G #3/... Yes, I have. Thanks for asking.
G #1/... We thought it would be fun to start in the office, but
didn't think it was a good idea with the kiddies coming in.
ME/... What shows do you guys need updates on, I can give you
the play-by-play
G #1/... What happened on Dr. Phil?
BOSS LADY/... oprah too.
G #2/... I have to stay for the kiddie haloween party clean
up . bah.
ME/... I dunno. Ellen, Montel, or Maury. A rerun of The Nanny
is on also. (nasal laugh goes here)
ME/... boot the brats out at 5!
BOSS LADY/... work question here james, do you want me to tell
[HQ] to keep the [customer] spec?
ME/... Ummmmmm. . . . yes, for now. They're still selling the
things.
G #2/... wokr? Jimmy's on vacay right now. give the guy a
break.
BOSS LADY/... okay, now, back to booting out the brats.
seriously, that needs to end at 4:30
ME/... Ooooooh! Maury's got Disturbing Paternity Test Results.
Looks like a winner!
G #3/... Yet another reason not to be on the Activities
Committee...G #2, you gotta resign...soon.
G #2/... Give examples. any alien fathers?
ME/... hang on, waiting for the damn colortyme comercial to end.
BOSS LADY/... or was the father really the uncle?
G #1/... better yet the brother
G #2/... Oh- you don't need to give me reasons not to be on
the committee. I m well aware of them, and I'll be retirirng at
the end of the year.
ME/... That's "better", G #1? You've been up in [PODUNK] too long. . . .
G #1/... I hate this thing. I want spell check added.
G #2/... oh - but deciphering is half of the fun
ME/... 3 months ago Sharnita's life fell apart. Today, she's
100% sure that Alfonzo's the father.
BOSS LADY/... and? is she correct?
G #2/... oh dear. how's alfonzo taking it?
ME/... c'mon, you know we'll have to wait until the end for the
answer.
ME/... Alfonzo's thuggin'
G #1/... Any hitting or climbing over chairs yet
G #2/... slow down guys - BOSS LADY needs to eat
G #3/... James, let us know when there is a commercial so we
can go and smoke. Thanks.
G #3/... I NEED A SMOKE.
ME/... 'Fonzo sez she cheated on him. Well, he's more like
yelling. "I aint no foo! I. AM. GONE!"
BOSS LADY/... did he leave?
G #2/... so are you letting us smoke?
G #2/... and eat?
BOSS LADY/... i'm going anyway.
ME/... "even if this child is mine, that means he was 'hittin'
it' at the same time!"
ME/... Sharnita's turned her back on him. It's getting edgy.
I can't watch.
G #3/... We'll be right back James. Be strong.
ME/... OH WAIT!
BOSS LADY/... the other guy is there, right?
G #3/... Wha?
G #2/... jimmy - don't get too involved. this is the kind
of story that willo break your heart.
ME/... He's the father of of the 2 year old, but not the 8
month old.
BOSS LADY/... who is? Fonzo?
ME/... Yup. got the last word, too. "You can't turn a ho
into a housewife."
ME/... Even Maury's powers can't match 'Fonzo.
ME/... OVER.
ME/... AND.
ME/... OUT!

Media Just Don't Understand

Will Smith rulez. Props and homage to Will. If you can't quite catch my meaning, just ask.

Down to business: my browser's(go Firefox!) home page is MyWay.com. When I opened it today, one of the "Top News" headlines was "Storm continues to Last Mexican Coastline". This, of course, set my right eyebrow raising in the sarcastic way that it often does when I see the media goof something up. I think I'm a bit OC about this, too. (No, I don't mean to imply that I'm like Peter Gallagher's character on a certain TV show. I mean OC as in OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.) I don't quite understand why I'm this way about goofs from the media. Maybe it's the way that they present themselves sometimes, omniscient lords gracing the lower masses with their wisdom and wit.

Anyway, below is the beginning of the page which appeared when I followed the link (http://apnews.myway.com//article/20051023/D8DDOL8G2.html):

"Storm Continues to Last Mexican Coastline

Oct 23, 9:05 AM (ET)

By WILL WEISSERT

CANCUN, Mexico (AP) - Hurricane Wilma drifted northward away from the Yucatan peninsula Sunday, but furious winds and rain were still punishing Mexico's Caribbean coastline, where the storm killed...."

Now, I was certain that the headline was meant to read: "Storm continues to LASH Mexican Coastline", and I wanted to immediately send a message to Mr. Weissert and ridicule him for mixing his words up in that headline. For a number of reasons I didn't do this. One is that there's no "Send a scathing e-mail to author" button on most news web pages. Another reason is that many headlines are not written by the author of the article, but rather another staffer at the outlet. (At my local paper they are masters of all that is CORNY. To wit: "U-M uncovers field of gleams" and "MSU heads south, losing to Northwestern". Need I say more?) Finally, being quite a self-doubter at times, I decided to look up the definition of "last" at yourDictionary.com and one definition gave me pause, at least for a little bit. It was a verb meaning to continue on, or to survive.

When you look at it one way it could have been meant to say that the hurricane is "surviving" its brush with the Yucatan peninsula, which- since it is still a hurricane- it is. On the other hand, it would mean that it continues to continue, which seems a bit deliberate, even for the media. Especially when you consider the opening sentence where the wind and rain were still "punishing" the coastline, it's pretty apparent that "lash" was the intended word. So, AP, congratulations. You've got a dolt on staff who's succeeded in feeding many of your subscribers (including ABC News) your mistakes.

http://apnews.myway.com//article/20051023/D8DDOL8G2.html
http://abcnews.go.com/International/wireStory?id=1241616


On a completely separate note, here's one for the folks at Parents behaving badly. Oh, wait! They're on the case already! What WILL we think of next? And here I was worrying about my 8 year old daughter's attire (she's real skinny, so she rolls her sweat-pant waistband down. It's just that you can see her bloomers when she's got them rolled down far enough to hold the pants up.) Or am I being obtuse?

A quick poll & some great news

Good News: Results are negative! Whattarelief! Long recovery ahead while her leg heals where things were removed, and the poor girl has 3 scars on her leg from the surgery. I just hope that's the only scars that result from this. I truly want to thank all of you for keeping fingers crossed and warm thoughts pointed her way. That fabled "kindness of strangers" is a great thing.

Poll:
Okay, I'm spoiled by a broadband connection and I know it. When traveling for work, I have to check e-mail and do my work duties through a dial-up connection and I grit my teeth the whole time. But this made me think (I know, a RARE occurrence!) What percentage of the visitors to my world here are coming via dial-up connections? I'm wondering if the hotcodez videos are annoying to you dial-uppers? If not a dial-upper, do they bother you anyway? Is there a cooler way to refer to the dial-uppers? I need some new slang.

Next question: How many of you are blogging while at work? Be honest, I promise not to tell!

Just checking in/News/Tagged!

In the midst of my Not-in-my-bed-for-3-consecutive-Saturdays weeks of business travels and family commitments, I wanted to check in with alls y'all on the list shown on the right. My second stop was Randi (the list order is randomized, so you're EACH at the top of my speed-dial) and wouldn't you know it, the filly tagged me. Now I've got homework!

But before I get into that, I'm yankin' on the prayer chain for those of you who partake in such an activity for a couple of reasons: #1) I lost another Auntie M, actually my Grand Aunt on my father's side. She was a strong woman of great stature who raised my father's cousin on her own as her husband died very early-on. (I was not aware of that fact until the memorial service!) Your thoughts will help her family as they work through the grieving process. Thanks-

#2 is a bit more serious. (Ironic, I know. How much more serious is there than the death of a loved one? My view is that the death can't be undone, so focus your strength and energy on healing and helping.) My step-niece, a beautiful girl all of 10 years old, knows how to sew, takes violin lessons, extremely compassionate. . . one of those souls that you get the feeling has walked this earth before. Last weekend she was at a skate park celebrating her birthday and broke her femur (that's the largest bone in your body, located in your upper leg. It doesn't break all that often.) X-rays showed a tumorous growth, so they operated Monday morning to remove the tumor and found a cyst along the way. The jackass doctor had the balls to discuss options-- should the biopsy show a malignancy-- while in front of the young girl. You know, the comforting words like "chemo", "radiation therapy", and "additional surgery". If that wasn't enough, he threw in "amputation" for good measure.

Are. You. FUCKING! Kidding. Me?

So, things around this large family are quite a bit edgy right now. Although the surgeon did say that the material removed did not appear malignant, it will take 10 days for the results of the biopsy. I just hate the big C, for I've only known 2 to survive brushes with it. It took a wonderful neighbor in less than 8 weeks, and my beloved Aunt M after just 4 months. One angel was already called back this year, they don't need another one. Not THIS one.


Back to Randi's assignment:

The Rules:
1. Go into your archive.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same.

The sentence: -S'mores.

The meaning: One of the many things from our vacation this summer.


My victims: Mike the Hick, Shandi, The Amateur Dad (cuz he doesn't have enough on his hands), Jaime (cuz she doesn't have enough on her hands, YET!), and finally, Funny Mike (who doesn't do tags but I'm givin' him the shout out b/c he's just danged funny. And because my paperperson won't deliver the Conschohocken Recorder, so I've no way to support Mike financially [but his friends keep calling and asking anyway])

Gotta run. You be good!

Goals

This pic sort of sums up the past weekend, positive scores in many ways. The boy's team did well, as this shot of him scoring shows. Daughter's team didn't fare so well, they were trounced by what seemed to be an army of mutant 7&8 year-olds fed nothing but genetically engineered hybrid corn and hormone-laced milk. These kids were giants, plain and simple, and the flatfooted Sonics were absolutely no match for them.

No matter. Once back home the party began in honor of our daughter and some cousins. Oh, Michigan State was on the TV, too. We had the house properly decorated with just the right touch of Spartan support (you know, flag, wind sock, grill cover, shirt on my back. . . ) Many of my B-I-Ls are UofM fans, so I needed to extend the proper hospitality to them of course. And the TV was readily available if they needed/wanted to check-in on the score of the Michigan/Wisconsin game (hint: they weren't happy campers.) But that's not important.

The kids all enjoyed themselves immensely; what with badminton, volleyball, rasslin', gamin', eatin', singin'- you get the idea. They did what cousins do: catch up with each other in their busy, 14-and-under lives, see their grandparents, eat cake-and-ice-cream-and-chips-and-dips-and-veggies-and-fruit-and-nuts-and-sodas-bubble-gum and if I could think of anything else I'd type that too! They burned off some pent-up energy as they last got together about 6 weeks ago, and reaffirmed the various bonds that develop as you grow-up separate but alongside family. Heck, they even drew names for Kris Kringles already. Could you get kids any more wound up? Too fun!

So- now that they're all fired-up- I'm skipping town on Monday for an overnight trip, and I won't have a Saturday night in my bed until October 22. I just hope they're good for Wifey, it's hard to lower the boom over the phone- especially when they're in a trance watching TV or playing a game.

Have a great week everybody. Set, then reach your goals!