Roses for passion,
Chrysanthemums for verity.
May 2009 bring
Peace and prosperity.

Another Monday night. Today I resolved to begin putting my life back together next Monday, the first Monday of the new year. Let's hope this resolution goes better than most. On the list: eat better, eat cheaper, get a little exercise, lose weight, find a job I can live with, write every day, devote more of my writing energy to publishable works, and spend less time online trying to get laid.

Shortly after I got laid off it occured to me that I now had all the time I needed to find myself a date or two. But, after nearly two months, I feel as if I've been fishing in the swimming pool. There apparently isn't someone out there for me. I haven't even had any near misses in this time. I'm not trying to generate sympathy, I'm just spilling things out as I see them. Of course, I've done all my fishing online, and haven't bothered to find a bar or any place to go to. I'm just not a bar person though. Oh well, maybe something will change soon.

I'm not that upset about drawing a bad hand in the game of love. At the age of 46 I'm not sure I even want someone in my life. I don't know if I can share my life at this point. Mostly I'm just looking for someone cuddle with now and then— not for hours at a time, but long enough to satisfy the cuddle instinct.

Enough of that. I don't mean to sound like I'm whining.

Right now, as I write this, my computer at home is encoding the first thirteen episodes of the second season of Starblazers. This was my first anime series, and I used to watch it about 1982. (OK, OK, I watched Speed Racer and Kimba, the White Lion as a kid. Those were technically the first anime series that I watched. You can sue me for neglecting Kimba!) Starblazers is the best. I still remember watching the first series, wondering what condition the Yamato would be in when they finally for to Iscandar and Queen Starsha. The second and third series are complete mysteries to me as I've never seen them. In fact, back then, I didn't even know there was a third series. (We didn't have the interwebs back then!) I can't wait to watch these episodes.

When I was a kid watching Speed Racer and Kimba, the best series on TV was Ultraman, hands-down. This is probably where my love of Godzilla movies and anime began. In case you don't remember, the series was about a special squad of monster fighters in Japan. In the first episode, a space being, Ultraman himself, chases a space monster to Earth, but upon arrival, Ultraman accidentally causes the death of one member of the Science Patrol. In order to save the man's life, Ultraman merges with him. Thereafter, whenever the man needs to call upon the power of Ultraman, he raises a token into the air— it looks like a fat pen— and he is then transformed into the rubber suited Ultraman, towering over the city. (Which size is fortunate given that the monsters also tend to be taller than skyscrapers.) Sadly, due to the pollution in Earth's atmosphere, Ultraman can only retain his form for three minutes. Every story was broken into two episodes (much the same way the old Batman TV show was filmed). In the first episode the new threat would be revealed and there would be a first inconclusive round of fighting between Ultraman and the monster. Typically, the episode would end on a cliffhanger, with Ultraman or a member of the Science Patrol in danger. In the second episode, Ultraman would appear to be on the ropes during a second round of fighting, usually up against superior strength or the three-minute clock, and then he would whip out one of his special moves, accompanied by a cheap special effect. I couldn't get enough of it! I lived for those special moves. In many episodes Ultraman would cross his wrists in front of him, one arm horizontal and one vertical, and a beam like Godzilla's breath would shoot out of the foremost hand. In other episodes, he would reach up to the small fin on top of his head with both hands. Then, with a forward thrust, a sawblade would be flung towards the monster! How could a person not love that kind of action?!

Well, enough sex talk and nostalgia TV for one evening!

I can't decide if I feel more like a student or some vaguely European unshaven soccer-shirted guy today. I brought my laptop down to my local Starbucks and am writing this post while sipping a venti gingerbread latte with soy, no whip. I wanted to get a white chocolate peppermint mocha, but there was no peppermint syrup in the house. Life is a bitch like that.

A most unusual thing happened to me a day or two before Christmas: via Facebook I received an email from a guy that I went to school with from 1974 to 1977. In January of 1978, my family moved from New Jersey (finally!) to Illinois (about 20 miles east of the Missouri border and St. Louis). Most of my memories of high school are from this second school, O'fallon Twp HS. The few friends that I maintain any contact with are from this school. Prior to that, however, in New Jersey, i spent grades 7, 8, 9, and half of 10 at Northern Burlington County Regional Junior/Senior High School. Good old NBCRJSH! Go Greyhounds!

I remember very little from my time at this school despite the fact that I went there an entire year more than I spent at the school I eventually graduated from. As an Air Force brat, I was accustomed to making new friends and then losing touch with them. When they moved away or when I moved away, there would be feeble attempts at letter writing, but, let's face it, teenagers are usually too involved in the moment to make good correspondents, and I was no exception. I know that I left many friends behind when we moved to Illinois, but I can't remember exchanging many letters at all. The one letter I do clearly recall was from a girl named Nancy that i must have written to about 2 years after leaving New Jersey. Her return letter said that she had become something of a danger to herself with sex and drugs and had chosen to become a nun. That's a letter you don't forget.

Anyway, a few days ago comes this email from a guy named Russell Caldwell who claims that we were good friends at Northern. I say 'claims' only because he clearly remembers me very well, but I have only a whole in my memory where he is concerned. It's quite flustering. he has since described several events and classes that I remember, but for the life of me I can't remember him at all. I do recall his name, but that's it. I had to confess to him that I am extremely embarrassed at the situation.

We have exchanged several emails now, and my philosophy is that if we were friends once before then we can be friends again. I hope he believes the same. So, if you see his name on my facebook page, now you know the connection. Some old friends are the best— some are the newest!

Well, I'm off now to write a physical letter, p-mail. Talk to you again soon.

"True friends stab you in the front."— Oscar Wilde

The Red Car, Part 2

I hope everyone reading this blog has had or is having a wonderful holiday. My own Christmas was fun. I spent the morning with my 'adopted family', exchanging gifts, eating a great breakfast, and catching up.

Before I return to the story at hand, if you have not read the first part, please do us both a favor and scroll down to the post before this one and do so.

I believe I left our heroes in midflight. While enjoying an early evening dash down a country road in a convertible red MG, we crested a low rise in the road only to discover that immediately on the far side of the rise, the road turned 90 degrees to the left.

My father has always been an excellent driver, and he really earned that adjective on this night. Of the two things that saved us from crashing through a cornfield, his skill behind the wheel was the foremost. The second thing that saved us was a broad, deep ditch on the far side of that left hand turn. I don't know what combination of steering and braking my father used, but before the road ended in front of us, he brought us very nearly to a standstill and very nearly perfectly aligned to travel in the road's new direction. Unfortunately, if you'll recall, the road was slick from recent rain. (I told you that would come into play.)

In my memory the moment is straight out of a cartoon. As the car slows down to a manageable speed, pointed in the right direction, we teeter and then slide sideways down into the ditch. And it's quite the ditch— no less than 8 or 10 feet across and very nearly as deep as our car was wide. Which is to say, after sliding down to the bottom of the ditch, we were well and truly inside. And again, I will point out that there had recently been rain, meaning that the passenger side of the car— the side of myself, my mother, and our dog— was several inches deep in muck.

Fortunately, everyone was A-OK. No one was dislodged. No one was jarred. No one was hurt— not even Mitzi the dog. We were rattled. And, we were certainly stuck out on a country road we knew nothing about, but we were all OK.

After extricating ourselves from the car and the ditch, it was quickly determined that the car would not be driven from the ditch. So, as night was beginning to fall, my father set off on foot for the farmhouse to be seen up the road. The rest of us waited, and I seriously doubt that a single other car came along the road that night. Some time later we heard the sounds of an approaching tractor bearing amy father and a very neighborly farmer.

In my memory it was a very big tractor, and in a moment you'll find out how powerful it was. The farmer and my father secured a tow line to the red car's front bumper with a large hook. I don't believe the towline was tied or wrapped around anything because after a few minutes of the tractor gently pulling against the stuck car, there was a sudden give. In fact, it was the front bumper that suddenly gave as it detached from the red car. In the second cartoon moment of the night, we watched as the bumped was flung by God's own catapult into a distant part of the cornfield. I know that later, after we were out of the ditch, my father tromped off into the corn to look for the bumper, but I don't believe it was ever fully recovered. You'll recall again that I previously mentioned the corn being high enough to obscure the ground.

On the second try, our car was successfully hauled out of the ditch, and a short time later we were on the road again, headed home. It was rather late into the night at this point and were quite definitely going home much slower than before.

The only thing left to relate is that when we limped back home, rather than have curious neighbors ask after our bedraggled car, my parents stayed out late and gave the car a good washing. Now their secret is exposed to the world.

Stay tuned for other exciting stories blandly told!

"I want to die in my sleep like my granfather... not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car."— Will Shriner

The Red Car, Part 1

This is a story that I'm going to tell on stage some day... that is to say, tell again some day. A few months after I started performing comedy, I told this story to a friend while we were waiting for the train. She laughed and seemed to enjoy the story quite a bit. So, emboldened by her response, I decided to tell the story one night down at Coffee Haven in Long Beach. It tanked. I tanked with it. Something like that. I thought the audience would get enjoyment just from hearing the events— I didn't realize that I also needed to tell the story.

There are only a few people in this world who know the events of this story and probably only one of them will ever read this blog. If I get any events wrong and you are one of those people, please feel free to correct me in the comments section.

In 1970 my father returned from Vietnam. We— my mother, my brother, and I— had been living in Sacramento while he was serving a one-year tour of duty in Vietnam with the Air Force. Immediately upon his returning, our newly reunited family packed up and moved to New Jersey. (We lived in New Jersey for 8 years. Don't ask me which offramp.) Very nearly as soon as we got there, my father purchased a red MG for himself. Quickly dubbed "the red car", that car stayed with my father for decades. It was the car in which I learned to drive stick in late '79 or early '80. (A story of its own.)

As near as I can tell the night in question must have been late Spring or early Summer. It was a pleasant evening, and the crops in the farm fields were high enough to hide anything lying on the ground. That fact will figure into the story later on. Additionally, I'm going to guess the year was 1971 or 1972 because none of us were very familiar with the back roads at the time. This too will figure into the story. (The other reason I'm guessing a very early year is because both my brother and I still fit into the back seat of the red car. I say "seat" but it was really just a small hard ledge.)

It had rained shortly before the evening we all got into the red car for a drive. We have always been a driving family and frequently enjoyed piling into the family car for a cruise down new roads. As I said, this was a pleasant evening, an hour or so before sunset. The world around us was damp from recent rain. Adventure called out to my parents so we loaded ourselves into the red car for a drive. We were in fact so complete that our family dog was curled up under my Mom's feet. (Mitzi was a toy pomeranian, and I dare say she was small by toy pomeranian standards.)

We lived in off-base housing, and as soon as you left the housing area, you were in rural New Jersey. We were surrounded by farms and the occasional forest. (Maybe someday I'll talk about the tiny Stephen King-esque graveyard we discovered in the middle of a dark forest.) Most people only the know the jokes about New Jersey and never learn how rural the state is— or at least was.

So off we zoom in our flashy red English sports car— a family of four and small dog all tucked into their places!

In my memory Rahilly Road is less than a mile from the back side of the housing area. It's certainly a road that we learned and used many many times during our 8-year stay. But this was our first time on Rahilly Road. It's strange name and rural aspect called out to us as a road we could have an adventure on. So, off we shot down Rahilly Road!

Here's a bit of trivia about country roads: Country roads were very often built along the boundaries of adjoining properties. As such, they tend to follow the borders of these properties. For their part, rural properties, properties going back decades or centuries, tend to be formed along township and range lines. That is, lot lines tend to very rectilinear. Therefore, the roads built between them tend to be rectilinear as well.

Rahilly Road was no exception. Rahilly shot straight as an arrow ahead of us as my father stepped on the accelerator. The wind was rushing past us because naturally we had the top off the car. Yes, my father's MG was a convertible. The four (or five!) of us were thrilling to the racing engine and rushing wind. We were a family of speedsters roaring down Rahilly Road, and as far as we could see Rahilly stretched out in front of us.

Unfortunately, without any of us really seeming to notice, after a mile or so, Rahilly began to rise and we approached a point where the road ahead of us could not be seen. In mere moments we raced up this small peak in the road to see what lay beyond.

Now, recall I mentioned that country roads tend to be rectilinear. (And, admit it, you've never seen the word "rectilinear" used so much before in one story.) I would say the two properties of these types of roads are: they have long straight stretches punctuated by 90-degree corners. Many times these corners are intersections and the straight road continues on. Sometimes, however, they're just 90-degree turns. Rahilly, which must be the name of the god of Impetuousness in some culture, opted for the 90-degree turn... immediately on the other side of the rise in the road.

Now, you may ask, how does a British racing car going 50 or 60 miles an hour navigate an immediate 90-degree turn? Look to part two of this story for the answer to that question.

"Auto racing is boring except when one car is going at least 172 miles per hour upside down."— Dave Barry

The Fast Food Rant

OK, I confess: I eat more fast food than I should. (In fact, it's probably true to say that eating any fast food is eating more than should be eaten.) In my defense, however, eating out is more than food— it's a social event as well. If I didn't talk to someone at a drive-thru now and then, I might forget how to use my vocal cords.

When did we forget how to serve fast food? For clarification, I've never worked in the industry and I hope I never have to. (Dangerous words from someone who is unemployed and well acquainted with irony.) It would seem to me that certain practices should be self-evident.

Rule No. 1: Drain the fucking burrito. I just got back from my new favorite cheap Mexican food place, Alberto's. (I have long enjoyed Alberto's as a chain, but they recently put one near me, just off the freeway on the University exit.) I had to change clothes after eating because the carnitas burrito developed its own wading pool at the bottom of the tortilla. After taking a few bites I noticed that the wading pool was draining all down my shirt and pants. After a quick muttered "What the fuck?" I examined the burrito and I could actually see the reservoir of burrito juice still untapped at the bottom. Swimming in one's food does not add to the enjoyment. Additionally, it begs the question "What is that juice anyway? Don't the pigs stop sweating after you slaughter them?" Lest you think this rule to be too specific, Baker's is similarly guilty with their machaca burritos. Something about frying up shredded meat on a grill brings out the spa therein.

While we're on the subject of burritos, I'm designating Rule No. 2 to be: Don't overstuff the burrito and/or use a flimsy tortilla. Honestly, if you put deliciousness inside your burrito I'll be back. Don't feel the need to oversell the burrito by stuffing a Ralphie May portion of meat inside a Paris Hilton veil of a tortilla. (May all the elder gods devour my soul if I ever use her name in this blog again!) When you're adding that last half-shovel of meat, ask yourself if it's really necessary.

My third rule is completely non-burrito related, and is the most important rule of all. Rule No. 3: The rim of the cup is not the fill line! Hey, soda jockey, you know how there's a line inside the cup telling you how high the ice goes? Why don't you add an imaginary second fill line about a quarter inch from the rim of the cup and pretend that line is how high the soda goes. That way, when you snap the ill-fitting lid on the cup, the cup doesn't transform into an armed soda bomb. Here's a visual clue, with the lid on, you should see only translucent plastic with the infrequent tip of an ice cube pressed against the top. If the entire lid turns the color of the soda and the precut straw cross in the middle starts sweating beads of soda, there's too much fucking soda. Drain off a teaspoon or two. I won't complain. Really. I'm tired of mopping up the inside of my car because I thought I might try to get the straw in. Just trying to get the straw in under these conditions explains why they're called "fountain drinks". Oh, and Starbucks, this applies to you as well. Somehow, after pouring more cups of coffee than dollars in the federal bailout, you don't seem to realize that your cups leak at the seam. If I ask for "room" give me room to add cream AND still have a half-inch of coffe-clear cup. If I don't ask for "room", you are still free and clear to leave that half inch. Or maybe you like emptying the trash that has a few score tips of cold coffee at the bottom.

Thank you for listening. If you know someone in the fast food industry, please feel free to pass these words of wisdom along. Doubtlessly, I've missed a few valuable tips. These were just the first ones that came to mind. Please add your own tips.

"I am not a glutton— I am an explorer of food."— Erma Bombeck

Hold That Thought

Hey, if there's anyone left reading this, hold on tight for a few days. I'm brainstorming ways to make this blog more interesting. I hope to be back soon.

"The absent are always in the wrong."— English proverb

Home Again, Pt. 2

And once again I am safely returned home. My stay in North Carolina, though brief, was quite a lot of fun. I am very glad I went and wish that I could have stayed longer. However, I understand that a lot of visitors will be descending upon Raleigh and it's probably good that I cleared out when I did.

I know that I frequently shortcut these posts by not explaining my relation to the people mentioned. That's probably needlessly confusing. So, regarding this trip, my brother is Jeff, his wife, my sister-in-law, is Denise, and their two children, my niece and nephew, Christina and Austin. They're all wonderful people and if you get the opportunity to meet them, I encourage you to do so.

So that's who I was with.

Monday was much the same as the previous days, capped off by going to see a rehearsal of Christina's latest extracurricular drama production, a short musical based around several songs from Schoolhouse Rock. That was the first time I got to hear her sing, and she has an absolutely beautiful voice! I'm not just saying that as her uncle either.

Afterwards we drove across Raleigh to try out a Brazilian BBQ. It should come as no surprise to readers of my Florida closed-restaurant adventures to hear that when we finally got to the restaurant we found it closed for a private party.

The flight home today was unremarkable except that my layover was in Salt Lake City, and Salt Lake City was in the middle of receiving a snowfall. The captain came on the intercom several times to say that our flight was on time but also to hedge his bet by telling us that the runways were being plowed, etc. In the end, though, we did land on time. Everywhere you looked out the airport windows it was white— and quite delightful to myself who was excited to see snow. About the time my connecting flight took off, the sun seemed to be breaking through.

Wel, I had a couple other things to report on, but I'm tired and can't seem to string sentences together tonight. Rather than labor on, I'm going to retire.

"There are only two emotions in a plane: boredom and terror."— Orson Welles

Sunday Funnies

I'm actually getting to this blog a little early tonight because everyone went to bed early. I may even have DS time before nodding off.  :)

Shortly after I got up, my friend Perry picked me up for lunch. Perry is a good friend whom I haven't seen in a few years. I met him when I was regularly performing stand-up. We hit it off and always enjoyed talking whenever we happened to meet at a show. The last time I saw him, I had scored some free tickets to see Dana Gould at the Irvine Improv. I went with both him and my friend Laura (mentioned a few weeks ago in this blog). Immediately afterwards, Perry moved away and ended up in the Raleigh-Durham area. It was a great pleasure to catch up with him, and we discussed some script ideas that we may collaborate on.

After arriving back home, it was time to put up the Christmas tree and decorate the house. Jeff and I worked on the tree while Denise and Austin worked on the house. Before the lights went on the tree, I was sitting looking at it and I had an unusual idea for "spray-on lights". Picture a small LED light with bristly hooks on either end and a small battery and circuit board. The whole thing could be made for less than a nickel each be no bigger than a junebug. Now put 500 or a 1000 of them in a cannister with a spray wand, like a garden pesticide dispenser. Use a little RF clicker to tune the cannister of lights to a specific frequency, then simply point the wand at the tree and spray tiny lights all over it. The RF clicker turns them all on and turns them off again. Instead of untangling your lights every year, replacing bad ones, and then draping them around your tree, in a few minutes you could have a tree covered with tiny lights!

We finished off the day by having dinner and seeing a comedy show at Charlie Goodnight's. We all had a good time and enjoyed a lot of personal attention from the comics.

Only one more day here in Raleigh and then I have to go home.  :(

Brief Recount

I should write at greater length, but I'm tired and hoping to get a full night's sleep.

Yesterday was a lot of running around. We visited my nephew at Tiger Direct, where he now works. In the evening we also walked around some upscale shops in Raleigh before having some delicious pizza at the Mellow Mushroom.

This morning we were up bright and early to go watch my niece perform with her community volunteer group. The group she is in will be performing children's shows at libraries, schools, and the like. This morning's performance was an informal 'inaugural' performance of How the Grinch Stole Christmas and was delightful. In the Spring they will be performing shorter pieces adapted from Shel Silverstein works as well as works from other writers.

We've also spent a lot of time exploring the PS3 and having a good time with it. I logged into the new Playstation Home service and explored it. There's not much there now, but it should be a killer app in the future. We also downloaded tons of game demos and checked them out. Keep your eyes open for some 'little' games called The Last Guy and Pixel Junk Eden, which we all enjoyed for their innovative and addicting game play.

That's about it for tonight. I really need to get some sleep! Tomorrow I'm looking forward to meeting up with my friend Perry, a fellow comic whom I havent seen for  few years.

"Games lubricate the body and mind."— Benjamin Franklin

National Lampoon's North Carolina Vacation

And what a wonderful day it was!

Woke up, fell out of bed, and dragged a comb across my head at 2:30 AM in anticipation of Super Shuttle calling to tell me they'd be around early. A couple minutes before 4 AM, I went outside to wait. I expected, having not shown up early, they would at least show up on time. Silly me. Shortly before 4:30 AM I called and asked where my shuttle was. After 10 minutes on hold, I was told the shuttle would be around in twenty minutes and would take me alone directly to the airport. No worries, I thought, there's still time. Twenty minutes went by and instead of a shuttle appearing I got an automated phone call saying that the driver was fifteen minutes away. It was more like twenty, but he did get me to the airport with time to run through security and check-in.

An hour or so into my flight to Hotlanta it occured to me that I had no boarding pass for my connecting flight. I was due to arrive in Hotlanta at 2 PM and fly out agin at 8 PM. (Not my fault. Delta moved my first flight up 5 hours after it was booked.) I began to wonder if I was going to have to retrieve my bag and re-check in for the second flight. So, upon arriving, I talked to a ticketing agent and he assured me that my bag would go to Raleigh with me. I also asked if I could get on an earlier flight. He put me on standby for a flight at 4:20 PM.

I located the gate and waited for the flight to start boarding. I was first on the standby list. Shortly before boarding, the agent at this gate announced that the flight was full and there would be no standby passengers on the flight. In fact, when I talked to him he said that I should just get on my originally scheduled flight because the flights to RDU were all booked solid. On a hunch, however, I waited. I don't know if they all do it now, but Delta has a monitor showing the status of all standby passengers, upgraders, etc. It also shows whether or not there are empty or untaken seats. When all the passengers had boarded, there was still one unclaimed seat and I was the only person on the standby list. I asked him about it and he scribbled a seat number down for me and let me board.  *phew*

The flight to Raleigh was a little over an hour, and when we landed the weather was nasty. In fact, the guy sitting next to me said he was surprised they let us land because of the severe storm and tornado warnings in the area! But I was on the ground in Raleigh, and my brother was waiting for me. That was all that mattered... until my bag didn't show up on the carousel. Turns out my bag never left Hotlanta— as I had expected. As I write this, we just got in from a Midnight run to Wal-Mart so I would have something to wear tomorrow.

It can only get better from here, right?

"A good traveller has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving."— Lao Tzu

Leavin' On A Jet Plane

Once again I write these words mere hours before I'm to get on a plane and fly across country. That is the level of dedication I have! I'll finish this post about 10 PM and the alarm is set to ring at 2:30 AM. Lat time around, I was scheduled to be picked up between 3:45 and 4:00 AM so I set my alarm for 3 AM. However, at 2:30 AM I received a phone call saying the shuttle would arrive in 45 minutes. Surprise! (And it arrived in almost exactly 45 minutes.) This time I intend to get a jump on them. My scheduled pickup time is 4 AM, but I intend to be ready by 3. Ugh.

I am not looking forward to the first leg of my flight. Because Delta's hub is in Hotlanta, I have to make one really long flight from Ontario to Hotlanta. I am going to be so stiff and sore by the time I arrive. I have a window seat and hope I can make the entire flight without getting up. (Although, I know you're supposed to get up a stretch if possible.)

Everything is packed and tomorrow morning I only have to throw some toiletries in my shaving kit and then throw the kit in my bag.

Since I'm taking my laptop, I should be able to post a couple times while I'm away. Stay tuned!

Ache, Rattle, and Blow

I can only assume that this will be the first of many posts that begin with the phrase "I awoke with one of my bad headaches today". And it was a doozy too. They start small, a dull ache that invades my morning dreams. When I awake with one of these headaches I know there's a fifty-fifty chance of getting rid of it before it gets bad. Usually popping some ibuprofen and going through my morning ablutions is enough to determine how it's going to go. If it's not gone by the time I'm finished, then it's going to be with me half a day or longer. This morning I was not lucky. I couldn't shake the headache. I also couldn't eat anything and had no caffeine around. After staying up for a couple hours, I grew overwhelmingly tired and went back to bed. I slept a few more hours, fitfully, and awoke with my head throbbing worse than before. But, I made myself stay up, and made myself get a big Pepsi from 7-11. Sipping the caffeine and popping another dosage of ibuprofen eventually broke the pain and got me hungry. After eating, it went entirely away.

One of the reasons I got the headache was probably due to the winds that started up last night. They blew all night and hammered my house through the first half of the afternoon. By early evening they had finally abated.

And, to top things off, there was a nice earthquake this afternoon just before 4:30. (Click this link to read the USGS report.) Even those of you in southern California may not have felt it because it wasn't very big, but I felt it because it turned out to be a mile or so from my house. It was fairly quick and I felt no swaying— just a quick jolt. There don't appear to have been any sizeable aftershocks either.

I discovered that I under-reported the setup time on my laptop by an hour because this evening I remembered to run updates from Microsoft. 70 were found and installed and then another 7 optional ones were found subsequently. That added another hour to my official setup time. On the plus side though, I received the case that I ordered from Amazon and it's nicer than I expected. It's largely neoprene, very slim, and very light. I also received the 16GB flash drive that I ordered for use as a backup and synchronizing device between the laptop and my desktop.

Out of curiosity, I logged onto Starbucks website to check out their wifi options. I know they've been offering some deals. Turns out if you register one of your Starbucks cards and use it at least once a month, you can get two free consecutive hours of free wifi usage a day. That's a good deal and not that hard to keep up on— particularly since I already have a registered card that I use at least once a week or so. I don't intend to use my laptop much for communication and web browsing, but it's nice to know I can use it for such when I'm away from home.

In about 27 hours I'll be leaving home again and heading out to Raleigh, North Carolina, this time to visit my brother and his family. I'm very excited about the trip and wish it were going to be longer than 4 days. (They are all very busy!) I wasn't going to take my laptop, but now I've decided to bring it so I can keep up on my email, etc.

Well, that's about it for my mundane Tuesday. Back soon.

"I was married once— in San Francisco. I haven't seen her for many years. The great earthquake and fire in 1906 destroyed the marriage certificate. There's no legal proof. Which proves that earthquakes aren't all bad."— W. C. Fields

It's That Kind of Neighborhood

I meant to write last night— in fact, my goal is to post every day— but something happened next door. A couple times late yesterday night I heard loud reports from down the street. They sounded like gunshots to me, but they could have been anything loud. The first one was from quite a distnace down the street, and the second one, an hour or so later sounded like it was a block or two away. Then, sometime after midnight, I was playing WoW and I heard a car idling what seemed to be a few houses away. Since I frequently hear cars idling to drop off or pick up people at all hours of the day and night, I didn't think anything of it. But, after a minute or so of idling there was a another very loud report coming from very close to my place. It was followed by the tinkling of glass, and my first thought was that someone threw a bottle at one of the street signs nearby. Immediately afterwards I heard the car speed off.

Since these kinds of random events happen a lot in this neighborhood and are impossible really to track down, I rarely see the deputies come around afterwards. I don't even expect to see them any more. But, last night, about 15 minutes later I heard another car pull up and idle on the side of the road. Expecting another 'attack' I made myself go outside so I could grab a look at the car and maybe catch the license plate. To my surprise, however, there were two county deputy cruisers parked along the street in front of the house immediately behind me. (It's the house I used to share with Dale a long time ago.) Over the next hour a few more cops and deputies arrived and departed, but there was no overt activity. I heard voices, but couldn't make out what anyone was saying. (I stayed in my house the whole time.) This morning when I left my house, I was going to drive around the corner and take a look, but I forgot. My guess is that a car window got shot out or something.

That is what passes for excitement these days.   :/

Yesterday morning I spent about two hours configuring my new laptop. Those of you who know me through work may be surprised to learn this, but I fucking hate configuring new computers. It's so slow, and I have done it way too many times. To the manufacturers' credit though it's much easier these days than in days past. Of the two hours I spent, one hour of that time was just letting the virus checker complete an initial scan. Everything else went quickly. I added a wireless laser mouse because I hate laptop touch pads. I also added a few utilities, such as Google's Chrome browser. The official Vista rating is 3.0, which is not that great, but I have no problems with it yet.

Today I did some Christmas and birthday shopping. Thankfully I have the opportunity this year to hit the stores while most people are at work. I was able to get everything done quickly. The worst part of the shopping was picking a couple cards out at the Hallmark store. Hallmark seems to have abandoned the non-singing, non-gimicky cards. I spent more at the card shop than on some of the gifts.

By now the newness of my blog has worn off and the mundane-ness has worn in. I doubt there's anyone reading anymore so I won't exhort for comments.

"Win or lose, we go shopping after the election."— Imelda Marcos

Uncle John Goes to the Parade

I may be too tired to write anything of interest tonight, but since I skipped yesterday...

Tonight I had the distinct pleasure of watching the Redlands Christmas parade. Pat called me this afternoon to tell me about the parade and I leaped at the opportunity. Like I've said a few times, I get so bored. There was no way I could turn down his invitation.

I watched this parade in a previous year. Katie, Pat and Lisa's older daughter is a girl scout and her troop walks in the parade. On that occassion I joined their family on a very cool evening and Katie walked by us without any of us seeing her. Tonight I wore a sweatshirt and a jacket for what turned out to be tee shirt weather. (In fact, at one point I pointed out to Pat and Mike that the rest of the country would be decidedly angry at us for watching a Christmas parade in tee shirts.) Tonight Jessica was also old enough to walk with her girl scout troop. And, since Lisa is now an official troop assistant, she also walked. So it was just Pat and Mike and I watching the parade this year... and both Jessica and Katie got by us without any of us seeing her. (We did, however, see Lisa, who spotted us first and pointed out that she seemed to be in charge of wheeling unknown children through the parade.)

In addition to girl scouts, there were several troops of boy scouts, the city mayor, several council members, old muscle cars, various charity organizations, and all the local schools of every level in attendance. I expected to see tractors, but I guess there's just not enough agriculture left in or around Redlands for farm machinery.

After all the girl scouts walked by and we confirmed that we'd somehow missed the girls again, Pat and I split for the car. On the way back, Lisa called and said that she and the girls were ready to be picked up. Perfect timing. Dinner was at Famous Dave's BBQ a few minutes later. Yum!

My other event of the day was buying a laptop. I've been pricing and speccing them for the last month or so. With my severance check in the bank, I wanted to finally make the purchase. I expected, however, to delay until returning from North Carolina next week, but on a whim I went into Office Depot. There I found a nice Compaq that was $749 but which had— today only— an instant rebate of $250, bringing the price to $499. That was in my price range. I added a wireless laser mouse, and looked for a carrying case, but I'll have to get that elsewhere. I believe I got a good deal.

Well, I haven't been nearly as amusing or snarky as I'd like to be tonight. Guess I'm just too tired.

"Campaign behavior for wives: Always be on time. Do as little talking as humanly possible. Lean back in the parade car so everybody can see the president."— Eleanor Roosevelt

Eyeball This

I check my email constantly throughout the day, from the moment I wake up to the last moment before I go to bed. I'm a real email junkie! To be sure, part of this addiction comes from not having much else to do all day long. Part of it also comes from being lonely, as I explained in an earlier post. Maybe I should buy myself a child on the black market or order a bride from Russia.

All my medical insurance lapsed as of this most recent Monday. I won't claim to be the healthiest person, but I have not been to a hospital for myself in well over 20 years. It's just not something that I do. I always 'tough things out'. Except, as a 40th birthday present my body gave me declining eyesight. I have been in the habit of going to see the eye doctor every two years since then. Ironically, I was supposed to go again in September, but as I was feeling financially poor, I delayed the visit. (Even after insurance, my last pair of prescription glasses set me back about $250.) Have any of my faithful readers ever used the cheap eye exam services out there? If so, let me know what you think of them. My current glasses, though two years old, seem to be holding up well, but the prescription probably needs a slight adjustment by now.

Hmmm, I don't seem to have anything fun to write about tonight so I guess I'll close this off.

Love hearing from you!

"I had some eyeglasses. I was walking down the street when suddenly the prescription ran out."— Steven Wright

Home Again, Home Again

While I was not in any way anxious to leave my parents, it's good to be home again. Well, maybe it's not 'good', but at least I can walk around naked again.

I promised pictures. You'll find them posted to my Flickr account. Since I already wrote snarky comments to go with the pictures there, it's easier to leave them there rather than try to post them here. Please feel free to click around and look at them all. There are other, older, picture streams there as well.

Most of the pictures are self explanatory. I may not have explained in any of my earlier posts that my parents have two dogs, Furby and Simba. My Mom has always had a thing for pomeranians so we always had a least one pom in the house while I grew up, frequently two. Furby, apparently, was quite a handful when they got her— and I personally can vouch for the fact that she is not right in the head, even for a dog— so they got Simba to calm her down and be her friend. The two get along just fine, but there's no calming Furby down when she gets wound up, and to top it off, Simba is full of his own exasperating personality quirks. Like children, they are adorable at times and monsters at other times. Anyway, I included a picture of each as they are decidedly cute dogs.

I also don't recall whether or not I mentioned that one night we went to the pizza parlor and met my Aunt and Uncle and my cousin Sheila and her family. There are pictures of them as well.

Most of the remaining pictures are from the Kennedy Space Center. I was feeling particularly photographic that day. (Although, as you can see in a few pictures, not very photogenic!) One particular joy of our day at the KSC didn't get mentioned directly: The space shuttle was diverted to California because of inclement weather, and it really got inclement all over us. When we left the second stop, the Saturn rocket and Apollo mission exhibit hall, it was pouring outside and the wind was gusting. Waiting for the bus we were standing under high thin awnings whose benefit disappeared the moment the wind changed the angle of the rain to anything other than straight up and down. By the time we finally got on the bus, we were soaked, head to foot, and toured the ISS facility in that condition. Sadly rain and wetness do not capture well on an instant camera. I would have loved to show you.

Today, at home, I took things easy. While I was in Florida my severance check finally arrived. I put that in the bank with a feeling of melancholy. It felt like my 16 years of hard work for the company were summed up in that check. I also lost a bit of my mental safety margin by depositing that check. For the last month I've been living off my undernourished checking account and my final check. There was always the knowledge that my severance check would arrive in the future. Now that it's here and deposited, I feel a bit of a panic about enticing more money to come into my account in the future.

My car has been running hot lately so this afternoon I popped the hood and added coolant to the radiator. I felt good about doing that— until I went out this evening and heard a loud hissing and gurgling coming from under my hood. At the street lights I could also see smoke or vapor coming from the hood. Naturally, I forgot to screw the radiator cap back on after filling up this afternoon so I had to buy a new cap at the auto parts store tonight. I wish I could tell you how many times I have had to buy new oil caps, gas caps, and the like over the years. I seem to have a serious hole in my repair abilities that causes me to forget to replace these things.  *sigh*

I spent the better part of an hour on the phone with my dear friend Lee Ann this evening. Her last day with the company was just this past Monday. I look forward to spending a few days with her in Long Beach after I return from my upcoming trip to Raleigh, North Carolina.

Keep sending those cards and letters!

"Human beings are the only creatures that allow their children to come back home."— Bill Cosby

Floridaland 3

We actually got off our butts and did something today.

In anticipation of the space shuttle landing today, we drove over to Cape Canaveral and the Kennedy Space Center. The skies were threatening all morning and we knew there was no real chance of the shuttle actually landing in Florida today, but we went anyway. I think we were all desperate to get out of the house. Sure enough, we bought tickets for the tour of the facility and the first thing we heard was that the shuttle would be delayed a day or it would be landing in California.

The tour makes three stops and drives by a few recognizable buildings. Sadly, it does not go anywhere near the launch pads. You do, however, drive by that huge cement slab of a building where the space shuttle is put together before each launch. The stops are at an old gantry site, the Apollo/Saturn museum, and the international space station facility. There are a lot of movies to sit through, and the main complex has some simulator 'rides' as well. The ISS facility is the only place where you see anything current though. The tour there overlooks a large testing and assembly space for components bound for the ISS. All in all, it is a fun way to spend the day, and I highly recommend it.

At the end of the tour, we returned to the main complex just in time for the shuttle landing in California. There are two IMAX theatres running different presentations throughout the day, but for the shuttle landing one of the theatres was showing NASA's broadcast. So, in the end, we did see the landing after a fashion.

Oh, and the Kennedy Space Center is spread throughout a very diverse wildlife refuge. I saw three or four alligators and two armadillos, as well as dozens of turkey vultures.

I'm sure this will be last post from Florida. I leave Tuesday afternoon. I hope to upload a lot of pictures of my trip when I return.

Love those comments!

Listen to Sputnik

Floridaland 2

After the last incredible post, I'm sure many people are muttering "How can John top that?!"

Thanksgiving was pleasant. My mother (who was sick, by the way!) spent the first half of the day in the kitchen, preparing a great meal. Turkey, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce (straight from the can, yum!), and dinner rolls. Desert was a pumpkin pie with pecans. After dinner we demanded Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull on cable. About half way through the movie, however, my brother called from Raleigh, North Carolina, and, after a 20-minute conversation with three people on our end and four people on the NC end, we returned to the movie only to discover that the on-demand service was no longer working. My Dad called the cable company, but after half an hour the service still didn't work. The second half of the movie has still been unwatched.

Several games of pinochle were also played during the day.

Today, Friday, we didn't go to any stores. The local news stations mentioned the phrase "Black Friday" so often that by the end of the day I wished the American economy would collapse in order to prevent that phrase from ever being uttered again. I awoke shortly before 10 AM, and when I stumbled out to the living room, my Mom had decided that today was the day to go to a local sandwich shop and get Cuban sandwiches. So, after a morning spent with mugs of coffee, sudoku puzzles, and quiet lounging by the pool, we headed out for lunch... only to discover that the restaurant was closed for the holidays. So, instead, we went to a small BBQ joint for pulled pork sandwiches.

My Dad had some chores to take care of at my parents' church so he was out most of the afternoon. My Mom fell asleep right away. (She was feeling worse than yesterday.) So, I hit the on-demand service, discovered it to be working today, and watched the latest Hulk movie. I know I'm going to catch a lot of flack for this, but I like the previous Hulk movie a little better than this one. This one is very entertaining, but there's not much Hulk in it. I like the fact that the Edward Norton Bruce Banner is a lot like the Bill Bixby Bruce Banner, but I was never a fan of the TV show. It gets a thumbs up from me, but- hold on to your socks!- I liked Iron Man more than this movie.

More pinochle and other card games after my Dad returned.

Dinner was pizza at Guido's, the local pizza joint. By 'local', I mean 25 miles away. Did I mention that my parents live in a fairly remote subdivision? The nearest market/store, is 3 or 4 miles away. We were joined by my Uncle Richard and Aunt Dot, who live a few streets away, and their daughter Sheila and her family. Sheila and family are visiting for the holidays. It's always a delight to see my cousin Sheila. Age-wise, she is between my brother and I, who are otherwise the youngest amongst the cousins on my Mom's side of the family.

More pinochle after we returned home.

Are you seeing the pattern yet? Tomorrow we may go out and do something other than eat and play pinochle. I suppose it depends on how my Mom feels. There is also talk of going to see the shuttle land at Cape Canaveral on Sunday afternoon. That plan is completely up in the air, though, as thunderstorms are predicted for Sunday.

Thanks for the comments you've been leaving. I enjoy them all. Excuse me for not having responded to any individually yet.

"As a child, my family's menu consisted of two choices: take it or leave it." - Buddy Hackett

Floridaland 1

My second night here in Homosassa Springs. My parents have gone to bed and the final minutes of Iron Chef are on the TV. Nothing much to report yet... except that my favorite Carolina BBQ restaurant has gone out of business. We stopped there on the way home from the airport only to discover the restaurant was gone. That would have been bad news, but we went to a German restaurant instead and had a delicious meal. If you ever get a chance to eat a creamed potato and carrot soup, I recommend you do!

We didn't do anything today. My Dad showed me the jukebox he has recently restored. It's pretty amazing. I'll try to take pictures and post them at some point. My parents had to step out for a few hours after dinner so I checked the movies on demand stations and watched "You Don't Mess With The Zohan." Thumbs up.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I hope you all enjoy the day!

The Road To Florida

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, I'm leaving for Florida soon. In fact, the shuttle taking me to the airport should be here in just over 4½ hours. 4½ hours? Yes, that's how dedicated I am. I am staying up to write a brief post tonight with only hours in which to get a night's sleep. That's dedication... and I'm lately accustomed to not going to bed until 2 or 3 AM anyway.

My parents live in Florida, in a town called Homosassa Springs, about an hour north of Tampa, on the gulf side of the state. (It's also about 90 minutes west of Orlando.) This is "old Florida". There is a river which leads from town out to the coast, and that river looks like every episode of Flipper. There is Spanish moss draping from every branch. There are alligators (or crocodiles) in the water as well as manatees. I actually saw a dolphin once while we were having lunch at a restaurant on the river. Bears and bobcats roam the dryer areas. (My uncle, who lives a few streets over from my parents, took a picture of a bobcat in his backyard a few years ago.)

It being Winter, however, the most commonly seen wildlife will be the snow birds. For the next week, I will be the youngest person I see.

My Mom will be putting out a traditional Thanksgiving spread on Thursday, and I almost feel guilty about that. She had planned on a quiet day with my Dad until I called a few weeks ago and asked if I could come visit them. I'm sure a few pounds of turkey and potatoes and sweet potatoes and gravy and dinner rolls and cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie will assuage my guilt however.

So, this is it for me pre-flight. I hope to be able to grab some computer time while I'm away and write up a few posts. If none appear, you know why. Please, enjoy your Thanksgiving, and know that I am thankful for all the friends I have.

I look forward to your comments!

"My parents didn't want to move to Florida, but they turned sixty and that's the law." — Jerry Seinfeld

Lost Weekend 1

There's nothing less optimistic when writing about the present than using a number to describe the first of what one assumes will be many wasted weekends. It's like waking up from a creepy dream and knowing the same dream will be back to ruin your sleep in six months.

This weekend truly was lost. I didn't do anything of value or note. I read a few chapters of a Jack McDevitt novel, The Engines of God. I played WoW (World of Warcraft). I played Fallout 3. I watched an episode of South Park, an episode of The Clone Wars, an old episode of TV Funhouse, and The Comedians of Comedy documentary. This afternoon I did three loads of laundry so I could pack clean clothes for my trip to Florida in a few days. Now I'm listening to the CryoSleep channel on BlueMars.org and trying to figure out something entertaining to write about.

Just as a curious note, when I used to ride home from work with my friend Jon, we frequently wondered at all the people on the road. I used to shake my fist at all the "no-job-havin'-motherfuckers". A few days ago I was on the road when it occured to me that now I'm one of the no-job-havin'-motherfuckers.

And I have no intention of getting off the road. Deal with it.  :)

This Wednesday will mark three weeks of being unemployed. The overwhelming state, day in and day out, is one of loneliness. Not pathetic loneliness or disturbed loneliness— not yet at least. But whole days go by without me talking to anyone other than saying, "Yeah, I'll have the number 4, macho sized, with a Diet Coke, and a Del beef burrito. That's all." Remember that triangle in your health classes? That triangle of health with 'Physical', 'Mental', and 'Social' each written on one side? My friends at Del Taco are really letting me down on the Social health side.

So, I have been looking for 'friends' on that most respectable of websites, CraigsList. Yes, CraigsList, because I'm too cheap to pay a real dating website, and I feel that a romantic encounter with me is easily equal to buying a used digital camera or bicycle. Now, mind you, I don't fill my days with this activity, but every couple days I feel the need to be around another living human being. Occasionally I even post an ad of my own.

This is where you should pay attention in order to benefit from your friend John's experience. It's like my last big blog, when I was serving my time with the County on the side of the road. Learn from my experiences. Repeat them only if they call to you. Otherwise, consider the vicarious experience to suffice.

The first rule when posting an ad on CraigsList is: If you post an ad with a face picture, don't be surprised if someone writes back... someone who recognizes you, that is. I'm sure I don't need to explain the rule any further than that.

As always, feel free to comment.

"Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better." — Henry Rollins

Laptops and Old Familiar Faces

Today began badly— with the alarm going off at 8 AM. Things to do and places to be today!

My friend Laura, who is also unemployed at the moment, called me a few days ago, and asked me to help her shop for a new laptop. She has no other computer, and the internet is where jobs are to be found these days. (To be sure, you can still hunt in newspapers and drive around looking for 'Help Wanted' signs, but the internet is where you can do all that without having to change out of your bathrobe.)

Now, I've been looking for a cheap laptop myself the last month or so. In fact, shortly before losing my own job, I had several discussions with co-workers about what I should get. The debate basically boils down to notebook or netbook. Netbooks, for those who may not be up on these things, are a new breed of ultra-portable computers. They are smaller— generally having a 7- or 8-inch screen— and much lighter. Often times, they are entirely solid state, with flash memory functioning as a hard drive. Base prices are about $200 to $300 below comparable low-end notebooks. In the negative column, they have compressed keyboards and are not significantly upgradeable. Full notebooks, as I said, are more expensive. They are also heavier and less easy to transport due to their size.

After several weeks of indecision, I am firmly in the notebook camp. I suspect I will be in the netbook camp after a few more generations.

Laura's request allowed me to follow through on my own desire to purchase a refurbished notebook from the Dell online store. (There's a full one-year warranty.) We looked at several other online sources, but the Dells seemed to have the most bang for Laura's buck. After adding an optional external mouse, shipping fees, and taxes, Laura paid about $534. I know she's excited to play with it— and I am too!

After buying the laptop, we capped off our afternoon with a pie run to Polly's Pies. Mmmmm... Banberry...

Spending the afternoon with Laura in Orange County also gave me an opportunity to ride the Metrolink again. I am not a huge fan of the Metrolink trains, and just to prove that they are equally ill at ease with me, there was another accident last night on the Metrolink line from San Bernardino to L.A. (It was a side swipe and only light injuries were reported.) My train in was at 11:30 AM, and I had to share the top half the car with exactly one other person. Ahhhh. Going home, however, I was stuck in the commuter crowds. Ugh. Fortunately, I had the opportunity to catch up with a few old friends. It also briefly occured to me that I should head forward a few cars to where my former manager was sitting. I would have loved to see his face as I stood in the distance and waved slowly at him. I guess I'll save that cold dish for another day.

I look forward to your comments!

Watch John Grow!

Welcome, friends, Romans, my adoring public, and others! Welcome to my latest blog!

It's a dreadful sin to begin a new story with exposition, but for those who don't know, here's the short and sweet: Two weeks ago I was laid off from my job. The subsequent two weeks have been spent trying to regain my mental balance and figure out what the fuck is supposed to happen next. Simply put, no clear path has been illuminated for me. No signs have been erected to tell me where to go next. When I glance at the bottom of the page, there are no instructions telling me to pick up the flute and turn to page 49 or pick up the duck and turn to page 107.

Here's what I do know: I have no overwhelming desire to fall back into the same sort of job or the same sort of job routine. My 50th birthday is closer than my 40th. If ever there was a time for me to change things, that time seems to be now. However, like a chameleon in a wallpaper warehouse, I'm a little confused by all the choices.

This blog seems like a necessary step. It allows me to write. It allows me to vent. It allows me to keep up with friends old and new.

Please join me to see what happens next.