Is all that we see or seem but a dream within a dream?

It's rare for me to remember my dreams. Nightmares, rarer still.

There are a few that have been so powerful that they've haunted me well after I've rejoined the waking world. I had one last night, and some say it's therapeutic to talk about them, to help you get over them and understand them, so bear with me.

I dreamt I was a toothpick. Yes, I'm aware how silly that was, but everyone were toothpicks, and all living in some strange black and white and shades of gray world. I was standing along the riverbank and off on the other side was a huge, floating city, larger than the island of Manhattan, all silver...but not a bright silver, but a dull color.

The city was made up of toothpick-people, all...assimilated...into a collective, all individual will repressed, no life, no thoughts...just cold toothpick people who became the buildings, the roads, the city itself, and I knew it was looking for more people.

Think the Borg from Star Trek and you've got the idea.

They were taking everyone...friends, family, whatever...and absorbing them into the city. I saw them coming for me and I flew (hey, if I'm a toothpick, I can do pretty much anything, right) away to escape while everyone else became just pieces of a larger puzzle but with no minds of their own.

(For the record, last night, I didn't watch any Sci-Fi. I watched Ratatouille on DVD, which was quite good.)

I flew and flew and flew. Every time I thought I was safe, this dull silver floating city made of toothpick people kept following me, taking away everyone else around me. Only I could escape. In the end, everyone else was gone, swallowed up, and I was alone.

Damn dream woke me up from a good night's sleep. I just laid there in bed for the next hour and a half, trying to get comfortable again and trying not to think about it but it was still there in the back of my mind, one particular scene. Me, as a toothpick, lying in the grass in some empty countryside, alone.

Strange things, dreams.

Brand new morning

Saturday morning. I've been up for the past, roughly, three hours and I've been busy. So far I've showered, shaved, cleaned the bathroom, changed the sheets on the bed, started the laundry, had breakfast and done some light cleaning.

I've felt...disconnected...from reality for so long, it seems. It's good to be back doing some of the simple things in life. Some of them are annoying but necessary, some of them are just simple pleasures.

Yesterday, I had lunch with one of my best friends, back in town for Thanksgiving, and it was great catching up with her. Miss hanging out with her, and we had a great time. After having some great wings (and cheesesticks) at Quaker Steak and Lube (someplace else I haven't been in awhile), we drove over to Caribou Coffee (a place she doesn't have over in Vegas) for a delicious Chai. The place was busy...I guess everyone was out shopping on so-called Black Friday.

The day after Thanksgiving, here in the States if you aren't aware, is traditionally the busiest shopping day of the year and the one day I do my level best to avoid the stores. However, after lunch with my bud, I ventured forth to one of the department stores because, well, I'm a schmuck.

It was great, though! It wasn't all that crowded...like a normal weekend shopping day. I guess because all the stores were open since the middle of the night, all the hard-core shoppers got up at 2 in the morning (if they managed to avoid the effects of tryptophan in the turkey they had the day before), leaving it free for the rest of us.

I'm glad I did stop. I've needed new flannel sheets for a little while, and they had a complete set for $13. Fitted sheet, flat sheet and pillow slips...thirteen bucks. That was a bargain!

But the best place to go the day after thanksgiving...the grocery store. It's amazing...it's virtually empty! Everyone did their food shopping the day before Thanksgiving, and everyone's still too stuffed to go shopping. I intentionally let the shopping go so I can go to the store on Black Friday. There was no milk in the house for two days, just so I could avoid the store until yesterday. Amazing feeling, going through the store that day, and there's hardly anyone else around. I love it.

Well, I've rattled enough. Back to laundry and cleaning. Think I'll get the Christmas wreaths out today and hang them in the windows today. I can start to feel the spirit of the season in me, and there's nothing better than the feeling of Christmas.

Breathe, kids.

Happy Thanksgiving

My friends, please forgive me for the drama of the past few days.

Things will be up and down for a bit, but I promise you, I'll be fine.

For now, to my American friends and readers, Happy Thanksgiving.
For everyone else...breathe. :)

A casual commentary on things

For some reason, Howard Jones' No One is to Blame just seems to fit so well right about now. Always did love that song (especially the Phil Collins percussion work in the original version), but today, after doing a little thinking, it's taken on a new meaning for me.

Hmm. Maybe I can go on breathing after all.

You can look at the menu but you just can't eat
You can feel the cushions but you can't have a seat
You can dip your foot in the pool but you can't have a swim
You can feel the punishment but you can't commit the sin

And you want her and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame

You can build a mansion but you just can't live in it
You're the fastest runner but you're not allowed to win
Some break the rules
And live to count the cost
The insecurity is the thing that won't get lost

And you want her and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame

You can see the summit but you can't reach it
Its the last piece of the puzzle but you just can't make it fit
Doctor says you're cured, but you still feel the pain
Aspirations in the clouds but your hopes go down the drain

And you want her and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame
No one ever is to blame
No one ever is to blame

Be happy.

Meet the new boss...same as the old boss...

Today's been a good day, overall.

Spent time with My Kid, and it was wonderful today. She was alert, talkative, joking, laughing, remembering a bunch of stuff. Yeah, she was a bit confused about a few things (forgot her brother died back in WWII), and she finally realized that she's about an hour away from her former home, but she was on fire. Been a long time since she'd been that way...this was closer to the way My Kid used to be.

They say with Alzheimer's patients, you'll have good days and bad days. Today was a good day. A very good day, and one to help me with the days that aren't so good.

Had an incredible dinner. I stopped at Smokey Bones for a pulled pork & smoked sausage dinner...and it was so good. I hadn't been there in a month of Sundays, and man, did I miss it. I owed myself a good dinner, and man, was it good!

On the drive home, I was thinking about my online name. Who I was, and how I should present myself online. That's when I decided...I need to be myself, and I need to be true to myself.

That's when it came to me.

Ladies and gentleman, let me introduce you to...



Onestar.
And I'm not wearing any pants.

I am who I am. I'm not gonna change. I'll get older, I'll understand myself a bit better, but I'm still the boobie-lovin' goofball with a baldspot, a goofy lopsided smile and a heart of gold deep down inside.

If you don't like it...don't come around here to my blog.

Onestar's back, baby.

I've got dreams to remember

The title's from a song by Otis Redding.

Been listening to a lot of 50's and 60's R&B as of late. I go through different musical moods, like everyone else. These days, it's classic R&B: Otis, Marvin Gaye, Johnny Ace, Ivory Joe Hunter...folks like that. Seems like I've been listening a lot to XM Radio's Soul Street when I'm out & about.

I've said it before and I'll say it again: Music is an integral part of my life. I can remember growing up, the radio was on more than the television. I literally wore out some old records from playing them too much. I'd play Johnny Horton's "Battle of New Orleans" so many times, over and over, I think I just about drove My Kid crazy.

I remember vinyl. I remember 8-tracks and cassettes. I also remember when CDs first came out and thought the concept was so cool. My music in a portable format, nice and crisp and digital...so cool. (Of course, nowadays, we're all about retro and vinyl and how we miss the pops and hisses we used to have on records. All that proves is that people are fickle and we change our minds constantly...)

Still have my first CD: The Unforgettable Glenn Miller. Yeah, I've gotta be different. You'd think, someone my age, in his late teens and early 20's, first CD player, would get something from that period. What do I get? 40's Big Band music.

Proof that I'm unique, and that's a nice way of saying strange.

...

Really, I didn't have anything else to say. I'm still trying to figure out what to call myself. I'd considered "ellipsis", since I'm always typing the "...", but that doesn't seem to fit. Still not using my real name online. I thought, for a few minutes, about "JAFI" (Just another fucking idiot), but I can think of two...maybe three...people out there who'd smack me upside the head because of my low self-esteem and self-depreciating sense of humor.

Eh, there's no rush. This isn't a destination I'm trying to reach. I know who I am, but I just don't know what to call myself.

For now...I'm just me. Nothing less, and nothing more.

The "Death" of Onestar

Well, if you've stopped by here, no doubt, you're wondering just what the heck is going on.

My DA account? Pretty much gone. The last few journals are gone.
My SA account? Closed for now. I'll come back to it in 2008 full-time. Right now, I'm in super lurker mode.

Several blog posts are gone? Yeah, well...

For those of you who don't know, my lady and I have decided to part ways. Please don't ask for details...it's just one of those things that happens. I still care for her and wish her the best. It just wasn't meant to be, that's all.

But it did get me thinking. It's time for me to make some changes in my life, and one of the biggest ones is that as of today, "Onestar" is, well, no more.

"Onestar" is a character I created over 15 years ago for a Dungeons and Dragons game I was in at the time. For those who play or have played D&D, you'll understand why I loved the character. When I rolled the samurai's stats, he was pretty much all 18's, and the DM was a firm believer of first edition rules, so when he explained Psionics to me, I was intrigued, and he let me roll for them. "Onestar" had the second-highest psionic points you could get...he was, truly, a character who could do no wrong.

Around that time, I also started working full-time for the library system, and needed to create an e-mail/login account. Well, my last name can be misspelled quite easily, so "onestar" seemed the logical choice. An online persona was born, as it were.

Over the years, "Onestar" went onto other things...creating an e-zine that, at the time of the mid-nineties, was pretty good with over 200 readers at it's peak. The login followed me around to various sites and places, and when I joined DeviantArt in 2001, it was, once again, the perfect choice for a handle.

"Onestar", or "Onie" as he had become known over there, was a different character than the real me. He was much more flirtatious, more easy going, more of a cad than the real me. Folks still don't believe, to this day, that the real me is kinda shy and retiring, although I do hide it well with a mask of bravado. "Onie" was a ladies man, something I'm not, let me assure you. He might seem like a "love 'em and leave 'em" kinda character, but the real me longed to find true love, my soul mate, someone to share my life with.

"Onestar" became a figurehead, of sorts, over at DA. His "cult of personality" and "harem" were somewhat well known, but there were only a handful...more than likely whomever's reading this...who were given the opportiunity to learn my real name and try to get to know the "real me", if such a thing exists.

Sure, there were a few times the "real me" would step out from behind the curtain and let the boobie-loving goofball guard down. Those moments were few and far between, to be sure. It was far, far easier to be an online flirt full of his own bullshit than to be, well, me.

Then came the changes at DA. Jark was gone, the ninja in his place. Traditionally, samurai don't get along well with ninja, and I became, once again, a figurehead trying to rally support to Scott's side. Sure, it was like pissing in the wind, as a friend might say, but he's still my friend...his Mom is someone I care for deeply, being one of the few Deviants from that place whom I've had the chance to meet "in real life", and was someone who trusted me with the knowledge that she WAS Scott's mom, long before the rest of the world knew. I was honored by that, and was willing to do anything for her son...my friend.

DA became too big, too much. I needed a break from the place. Left for awhile (only to sneak in, as a lot of you know, under the guise of "mordalo") only to return as "Onestar", that lovable goofball, until Storm Artists popped up.

My disillusionment with DA, my fascination with the place long faded, I left there for brighter shores, bringing some of you with me. Thank you for that. It meant a lot, knowing you tagged along for the ride.

Before I'd left DA, I'd met someone...my aforementioned lady...and we met out here "in the real world" and became friends. She fell in love with me long before I realized I loved her back, and we...well...

Blogs may be great places to document thoughts and share lives, but some memories stay personal.

That was yesterday, and like the old song goes, "yesterday's gone". So, too perhaps, should "Onestar". I'm not ready to reveal my "real name" online just yet, and I've no other nickname ready...so for the forseeable future, this blog shall be titled "The Journal of ..." until I know which direction I want to take it.

I've been "Onestar" for the past 15 years. He's been the one to get the women, the power, the glory. Me...I don't really want power and glory, and all I'd really like is to find someone to love and someone to love me, but if I don't find that...it's all right. I think I'll be fine being alone.

(Don't frown over the thought of that. Long ago, I realized that there was a good chance I'd be alone after a certain point...I've come to terms with it, and trust in the Universe to take care of me.)

The only constant in this universe is change, and there's always a brand new day waiting for us when we're ready for it. I'm not afraid of these changes. I embrace them. I'm just trying to be true to myself...the man I really am, and not some character who hides behind a keyboard, masking fears and insecurities behind boobie and hump-day jokes.

I'll still take pictures. Might share one or two of them here, but I'll post 'em over at my flickr page, conveniently linked here, just for you. :)

If you want, take a moment and help me bid "Onestar" a fond farewell. All you see, now, is me.
And believe me, I'm not that bad a guy, really. Still a bit of a goofball, slightly balding, lopsided smile and everything else.

It's my turn now.

I got a new suit

For those of you lucky enough to be at the Denise and Rene's wedding, you'll get to see me in person wearing it.

For those of you who won;t be there...here ya go. :)

I suck at haiku

Guess I need new jeans.
Just found a hole in the crotch.
My fingers are chilly.

To download or not to download, that is the question

Yet another semi-rant about music. You've been warned. ;)

Recently, I was reading a article over at Music Tap about a new service called MusicStack. Essentially, it's a clearing house for hard to find tunes, especially if you're looking for used CDs or, better yet, vinyl.

I've only been to the website once or twice. If I spend too much time over there, no doubt I'll find more and more stuff to buy, and my credit card's already groaning at me. Have to back off the spending for a bit. There's still a couple things, gifts mostly, that I want to get for the family, so I'll wait until, oh maybe, June, before I go back and look again.

What got me thinking, however, was the author's comments Compact Discs in this age of digital downloads. He brings up several good points, including that more and more younger people just prefer instant gratification and have a lesser-quality version of the song downloaded in a few minutes, rather than going to the store to get the album, or worse, getting a record through mail order.

Quality issues aside, there's something more...fulfilling...about having a CD. I'm tactile by nature. It's great actually holding the case, fumbling to get the booklet out, and putting the disc in the player. It's a sense of satisfaction, of accomplishment, of actually owning the record instead of just seeing a file magically appear on my computer.

Compact discs may be well on the way of the cassette, the LP, and shudder, the 8-Track. Quite frankly, I still love them (as you well know), and will continue to collect CDs for as long as they're available.

They. Just. Sound. Better. Pure and simple, and yes, I can tell the difference. I'm a music snob, all right? I would LOVE to be able to plunk down the extra cash for a nice set of headphones (preferably Bose, just to see if I can make the Priestess drool) or speakers for my aging system.

I'd love to wire the house for sound, putting surround sound speakers in each room and maybe put in a music server (with a large honkin' hard drive and uncompressed copies of the music files on it, and play 'em all at random), but I still need my CDs. I need the original, the archival copy.

In my younger days, in need of cash, I had to sell off some of my collection. I'm trying to get some of those old discs back, but it's not easy. They're not available. They've been "remastered" and just don't sound as good. They're just generally hard to find. It's a shame, really...some of those discs were good, and now they're lost, probably forever (unless I feel like spending far more than they're worth and get them from a smart collector who didn't sell theirs off).

Music drives me. Music feeds me. Music keeps me sane. I can do without the television, the satellite dish, but I need my tunes, and having my CDs right there, at hand, when I'm ready...it's a satisfying feeling.

I'm one person who shuns this new "digital download" era, and still wants his music the old fashioned way: On a medium I can hold in my hands and play when I want. Please don't take that away from me.

Corcovado

I'm sitting in a Caribou Coffee, sipping a chai and surfing the web.
I swear, they have the best chai, period.

Still just breathing, learning to be.

What else I did on my vacation

This past Thursday, I decided to go for a drive.

About an hour, hour and a half from the city is one of the most beautiful places I've seen on this planet. Ohiopyle State Park is a place I've talked about before, and if you wanna know more, check the link or feel free to search Google.

Since I'm still in vacation mode (and trust me, Monday morning is really gonna suck, I'll just leave you with this video.

What I'm doing with my vacation

Any questions?

Forgot to mention...

...that I'm taking a bit of a vacation.
Not going anywhere, not doing anything.
Might clean the house. It certainly needs it.

Nah, I just need a week off.

I'll be around, but if you don't hear from me right away, that's why.

Three things

1) The Sinatra song from my previous post was just posted because it's my favourite of his. I've always considered it very upbeat, and if you thought I posted it 'cause I was depressed...I'm not.

2) Yeah, it's "just a number". I know.

3) Thank you, my friends. For everything. :)

Signed,
Onestar, the 40-year old.

Cycles

I know I've likely shared this with you before, but it is my favourite Sinatra tune.
If you've never heard it before, and wanna hear the song, let me know. We'll share. :)

So I'm down and so I'm out
But so are many others
So I feel like tryin' to hide
My head 'neath these covers
Life is like the seasons
After winter comes the spring
So I'll keep this smile awhile
And see what tomorrow brings

I've been told and I believe
That life is meant for livin'
And even when my chips are low
There's still some left for givin'
I've been many places
Maybe not as far as you
So I think I'll stay awhile
And see if some dreams come true

There isn't much that I have learned
Through all my foolish years
Except that life keeps runnin' in cycles
First there's laughter, then those tears

But I'll keep my head up high
Although I'm kinda tired
My gal just up and left last week
Friday I got fired
You know it's almost funny
But things can't get worse than now
So I'll keep on tryin' to sing
But please, just don't ask me how

Two more days.

So very, very soon now...

I was introduced to it about five years ago, while visiting New Orleans. I'd heard of it before, but it wasn't available to me previously.

I admit it, I was curious. It looked so good...and I was so hungry for it.

When I tried it, Oh, My God. It was better than I could have expected. Better than I ever imagined.

I came home...and I was afraid I'd never have it again. The worst part of it is, they kept talking about it and talking about it and showed it to me, and I wanted it so badly, but it wasn't in my area, in my reach. So far away...

But soon...so very, very soon...I shall have it again.

Once again, after so long, my precious...you will be mine again.

Hot dogs. Blasts. Cherry Limeade.

Sonic is coming to Pittsburgh. I've gone without a true Cherry Limeade for five years...no longer. It will be mine again. MINE!

...and it will good...so, so, so good...yes...

I...am...

The Iron Man trailer has been released!

Yes, it doesn't come out until next year, but I am psyched to see this. Growing up, I had three favourite super-heroes. Green Arrow and Green Lantern were on the DC side, but for Marvel...Iron Man was it.

From the look of this trailer, this movie (I hope) won't suck.

Kinda Dorky Nerd King

...I always thought I was more of a geek, personally...

Same crappy blog. Slightly different look

Did you even notice the difference?

So, I was at Costco last night, buying enough toilet paper to last me the next three years. While talking to the Flowerpetal on the cell, I stopped and gasped.

Pausing for a second, I had to tell her of my find...The Muppet Show, seasons one and two, on DVD.

GLEE!

The Muppet Show was a favourite of mine, days long gone. Naturally, I had to pick up at least the first volume (along with 36 rolls of T.P, four pounds of grapes and the paper cutter*), and save volume 2 for next month, when I can afford to go back there again.

It was later, after I got off the phone with the flower petal, but I did have a chance to watch one episode: Rita Moreno. It made me smile, reliving old memories and revisiting old friends.

Now I just have to find out which season has Ma Nah Ma Nah.

24 days.

* The paper cutter is for my pictures. I'm tired of trying to trim down 8x10 pictures and since I couldn't cut a straight line to save my life...it'll help. Thankfully, I didn't have to buy it in bulk. There was just one in the package.

Sunday morning coming down

Yeah, it's not the most original title, but it's a quiet Sunday morning 'round these parts, and while I have nothing of any real importance to say, I'm still posting something. It's the
middle of a three-day weekend. I've been looking forward to this weekend for awhile, for various reasons.

27 days.

Yes, it's on my mind. Yes, I'm thinking about it, and no, if you don't know what that means, I'm not going to tell you.

It's silly, yes. I know it's "just a number", but, when I was but a wee l'il one, for some reason, this year, that number, weighed heavy on my mind. I don't know why.

I'm not trying to be maudlin about it. I'll thank the flowerpetal and just say "it is what it is", and leave it at that for the moment.

Went to the weekly outdoor Jazz concert I mentioned previously last night. A local Jazz legend, Kenny Blake, was the feature attraction, and man, can he play. I've a couple of his CDs around here, and he sounds so much better live. It's a shame last night was the last concert of the season, but at least I have my chair and there's next year.

Not much else to say at the moment. If I have something more to add, I'll do so later. Until then...

27 days

One of the funniest commercials I've seen recently

Baseball fans will appreciate this.
So will sports widows. ;)

Another night with an old friend

Tonight was another night driving with the moon.

Full moon tonight after a gorgeous total eclipse this morning. I was awake when the eclipse started, and was fortunate enough to be able to see it from my bedroom window...until it disappeared behind the neighbor's house. Didn't want to pull back the curtains to see it, though...didn't want my neighbor to think I'm spying. ;)

But tonight was spent driving with an old friend. It's always nice, seeing the full moon in the sky, off in the distance, keeping me company as I make my way home.

Been on a bit of a Supertramp kick recently, and I was listening to their greatest hits. From Now On was playing, and I couldn't help but think how much I loved that song, how it was one of my theme songs for so long (close behind my all-time theme, The Pretender by Jackson Browne.

Just thought I'd share the lyrics here wit'cha, in case you find yourself driving with the moon...

Monday has come around again
I'm in the same old place
With the same old faces always watching me
Who knows how long I'll have to stay
Could be a hundred years of sweat and tears
At the rate that I get paid

Sometimes I slowly drift away
From all the dull routine
That's with me every day
A fantasy will come to me

Diamonds are what I really need
Think I'll rob a store, escape the law
And live in Italy
Lately my luck has been so bad
You know the roulette wheel's
A crooked deal, I'm loosing all I had

Soon be like a man that's on the run
And live from day to day
Never needing anyone
Play hide and seek, throughout the week

My life is full of romance

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
That's the way it's got to be
From now on

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
No it won't be really me
From now on

You think I'm crazy I can see
It's you for you, and me for me
Living in a fantasy
From now on

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
That's the way it's got to be
From now on

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
It's you for you, and me for me
From now on

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
That's the way it's got to be
From now on

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
It's you for you, and me for me
From now on

Guess I'll always have to be
Living in a fantasy
That's the way it's got to be
From now on

It wasn't all bad the other night...

...I did get leid.




Yes, it's pink. Don't say a word about that, y'hear?

Revelations

The following wasn't easy for me to write. It's deeply personal. If introspective crap like this bores you, please move onto the next blog and come back here next time. I'll try and be more entertaining then.

I had a revelation last night. Nothing dramatic, nothing earth-shattering. There was no thunderclap in the distance to support it, no dramatic music providing a powerful soundtrack, just me, lying in bed, ready to fall asleep thinking about some things I shouldn't have been thinking about (because if I continued thinking about them, I would never had fallen asleep, and everyone knows I love my sleep).

Last night was a family dinner at the home for My Kid. A Hawaiian Luau complete with limbo contest (no, I didn't limbo...I've no intention of falling flat on my back, thankyouverymuch), tropical music, and a slice of pineapple on the piece of ham they gave me for dinner.

I didn't eat too much of my dinner, though. Spent most of my time making sure The Kid was eating properly. Gently reminding her to slow down. (She doesn't think while she eats, and just shovels in the food sometimes.) Reminding her to sip her drink and sip slowly. Wiping off her mouth because most of the food has ended up somewhere else besides where it's supposed to be.

Out of everything else that I've had to do (and believe me, there are some things I've done that would surprise and shock you), that is the hardest thing of all...watching my mother, a woman who was known for proper table manners, being neat and clean, slop food all over the place.

It's a bitch for me to admit that. I can deal with everything else. I've dealt with shit (literally), with blood, with all kinds of other...but I can't deal with watching her eat. The simple fact of having to wipe my mother's mouth off, clear away the mushed up food and drink that she wears, sometimes, more than she eats, and I can't deal with that.

That's why I usually leave before feeding time. I don't want to be there to see her eat. Family dinners, I'll gladly go to and be there for her, but...



She was getting tired (guess she'd been up most of the afternoon), and toward the end of the dinner, she was starting to dose off in her wheelchair. I took her back to her room and stayed with her for about 10 minutes until the nurses came in and cleaned her up (God bless them and their ability to do that...no way in Hell could I manage that), and put her to bed.

I came back in her room, gave her a goodnight kiss, wished her sweet dreams and said goodnight. She was smiling, so content, so happy, when I left. She had a good night, mostly (I think) because I was there.

Wasn't easy, the drive home last night. I felt...I dunno. Lonely. Emotionally needy. Depressed. Mostly depressed, I guess. Things on my mind that I couldn't shake. It wasn't until I got in bed (far too early last night, even by my standards) and I lay there thinking about things I shouldn't and going to places in my mind that I know better than to go, that I realized...it was the simple act of watching my mother eat, and watching her slop food all over herself, when I was raised to be so neat and tidy at the table...

I felt...and still do...feel about one inch tall over this one. Gonna take me awhile to come to terms with this. I'm sure I will, in time. Writing about it helps, and is a start, but it'll take more than just posting a long blog to help me deal with this one.

Comments for this post are disabled. Nothing personal, but please...don't talk to me about it. As my friend the flowerpetal taught me to say, "It is what it is". Leave it at that. Just...thanks for reading.

Since you asked...

I called the doctor's office today.

There are no blockages.

Everyone go ahead and start breathing again... ;)

One Five Oh

This is my 150th blog entry. Wow. I knew I was full of bullshit, but really...I'm impressed.

(Okay, this is more like the 152nd or 153rd. I did delete a couple here and there. I'm not one to slash and burn, but I do delete on occasion.)

Friday night. Sitting on the floor of my living room. Typing on the laptop as it rips (for my own personal use) Beastie Boys Solid Gold Hits CD into OGG Vorbis files. You might've seen the "PLAY OGG" link on my page here. Ogg Vorbis is an open-source audio encoder that, to a lot of people, just sounds better than MP3s. My music player plays Ogg files...a definite selling point for me, when I bought it. Yeah, it's geeky, but those that really know me, know a) I don't do things the easy way, and b) I will geek things out when I can.

Sitting here with my shirt off (calm yourself ladies, please), occasionally rubbing my chest. No, it's not a perverted thing. No, I'm not feeling myself up. It's because parts of my chest were shaved this week.

See, on Wednesday, I had a stress test.

Don't panic. I haven't had any heart problems. It was more...preventive medicine.

See, there is a history of heart problems in my family. My Pop had a bad heart. My Kid has a pacemaker because of an irregular (and now enlarged) heart. There's a definite history of heart problems in my family, and I figure...

I'll be honest. I turn 40 next month. I've not always taken the best care of myself, but I always used the excuse that I was too busy taking care of My Kid to worry about myself.

I don't have that excuse anymore (even though she does have another infection and I've been calling out there daily, checking up on her...especially since I found out they were giving her an antibiotic that I told them she was allergic to.

So, yeah, I had a Stress Test. For those of you unaware of what a Stress Test is, it's where they stress your heart. They make you walk on a treadmill that keeps getting faster and goes at a higher angle until you reach a specific heart rate.

In my case, I had to reach a heart rate of 154 beats per minute. Normally, at rest, I'm about 60-70 beats per minute (less if I concentrate and relax). Walking, normally, I can reach 80-90 beats per minute.

To reach the magic number they wanted, I was on the treadmill for over seven and a half minutes, with it getting faster and higher every two minutes. By the end, yeah, I was getting seriously out of breath and my legs were feeling like mush, but I made it.

Toward the end, they injected me with a dye. They then laid me out on a table, and took pictures of my heart. After a bit of rest, they took more pictures, and were going to compare the two pictures to see if there's any problems.

I'm guessing there's no problems, since the doctor called my house (according to the caller ID), but didn't leave a message. No news is good news and all that.

Otherwise, the doc said I'm in good shape. Clean bill of health and all that.

But yeah, I did the stress test, and they shaved part of my glorious chest hair. Now, it's starting to itch.

At least it gives me an excuse to feel up my own chest. ;)

The tree is gone

Those of you who know of my Storm Artists account, know I've posted a couple pictures of a beautiful tree (found here and here). What most folks don't know is that was out at The Kid's nursing home.

As you can tell, that beautiful tree is no more. I noticed it after visiting with her today...walked out the door was nearly knocked off my feet at the sight.

Went back in and talked to one of the nurses. Seems that old tree was a victim of a lightning strike from the bad thuderstorms we had last Thursday.

Such a shame. That was a beautiful tree.

At least we have the photos to remember it by.

My Saturday Night

The best laid schemes of Mice and Men
oft go awry,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!

...Robert Burns, To a Mouse (Poem, November, 1785)

While I had no schemes for this past Saturday, I did have some plans, but plans do have a tendency to change. This is a fact of life. It's neither a good thing, nor a bad. It is what it is.

So, with my Saturday evening free, I found myself at loose ends. What to do? I didn't feel like staying in: The weather cooperated and today turned out to be beautiful, warm but not hot, comfortable but not humid. A rarity for Pittsburgh this time of year, so best to take advantage of it.

After spending the last few nights cleaning out my basement, and today working in the yard and cleaning the house, I felt I'd earned dinner out, rather than taking something from the freezer. A quick trip to Primanti's for, of all things, a Gyro (with fries in in) satisfied my physical hunger, but I yearned for something...more.

I just didn't know what that was, so I decided to fall back on the tried and true: Chai tea.

It was obvious which vendor I was going to visit, but with so many different locations to choose from, it was more a question where. That's when I remembered: Every Saturday night, they have a live jazz concert at the Shoppes at Penn Center East, near Monroeville. Might be a few people there, but it'll be interesting. I'd never been to the concert there before, and I'd always wanted to, so I decided, tonight was the night.

Got there a little early, but already, the little plaza was full. It was a "bring your own chair" kind of event, and I was lacking in this area. Thankfully, the Sears had a portable chair that was in my, shall we say, weight class, for a more-than-reasonable price (thank you, end-of-season clearance specials), so it was off to the show.

I couldn't have asked for a more perfect evening. Clear skies, nice breeze, pleasant, and great music.

There's something about a jazz concert. People are smiling, nodding, tapping their toes but at the same time, being friendly and sociable. Families are there. Kids are (mostly) well-behaved. Some folks show up dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, some, as they say, dressed to the nines. I took my new seat and found a nice spot to the rear. From here, I could hear the music, but also watch the audience and observe.

Something interesting in observing the "human condition" at events like these. Some folks chat with family, most are tapping their toes, but everyone is just there to listen to good music and have a good time.

That's why I was there, and I was glad I came.

Yeah, it wasn't the evening I'd hoped for, but it was a nice night nonetheless. There are a couple more concerts planned before they end. After all, once August ends, we all understand Summer's over around these parts (even if the weather's still nice for another good two months). Still, I think I might take my chair and try to make another show on another Saturday night. Might not be as perfect as this one, but then...life doesn't have to be perfect.

As long as you're living, that's all that matters.

Oh, the weather outside is frightful...

August 8th came and went. Took the day off, relaxed, went out to see The Kid.

She's doing better, actually. She's remembering a bit more, some of the old "fire" has returned (she kept insisting on wanting to go down to the cafeteria for dinner, even though she had just finished lunch), and I can talk to her and get a decent conversation out of her.

Talked to the nurse out there to see if it's possible she can go back to a regular wheelchair (she'd been in more of a padded recliner-type wheelchair for the past few months) now that bedsores have cleared up.

Spending the time with her was good for both of us. I know she misses being around me a good bit and is happy when I come out to see her or call her, and I know she's doing better where she is now. It's a bit of relief on both our minds, I think.

At least she doesn't sulk and cry when I go to leave these days...at least, not so much.


No, this isn't my attempt at art. The rather colorful picture you see here is a radar image I managed to save from The Weather Underground's website from roughly 3PM yesterday.

Earlier in the morning, Pittsburgh and the surrounding counties received anywhere from two to three and a half inches of rain in less than an hour from a storm that, pretty much, appeared out of nowhere. Certain parts of the area, like Millvale and Sharpsburg, that had been flooded earlier in the week, were especially hard hit.

The problem was, the worst was yet to come.

A little after 3PM, this wave hit, harder than the morning's storm. Buildings had parts of the walls knocked off from wind damage. Reports of a funnel cloud were heard from a spout forming in the Monongahela River headed upstream (in fact, the area was under a tornado warning...a rare, but not unheard of, event for Pittsburgh). Basements already flooded from early morning waters were rising higher, as cars and people were getting stranded.

And yet, from my vantage point in the (relative) safety of an office building here at CMU, I could still see college students, running around outside, on the lawn, as lightning was crashing and driving rains poured down.

The immortality and stupidity of youth never ceases to amaze me.

By the time I got home, I expected the worst but found it wasn't too bad. My basement took on a little water, but nothing that couldn't be cleaned up with a broom and a bit of pushing. Thank goodness I had the walls coated with drylock a couple years ago. They kept out the worst of it, but water being water, found weak spots and made its way in anyway.

I did lose almost two longboxes of old comics. My own stupidity for storing them down there, I admit. Nothing too valuable, and nothing I'll lose sleep over. Those were things. Things can be replaced.

They said no one died in the storms that hit yesterday, thank goodness. A couple people had heart attacks, but they'll pull through. Some idiots who decided it was a good idea to drive through areas of standing water and got stucks were rescued, but then, every good storm, you'll find some brainless moron who'll think they can make it through because "it's not that deep". Yeah, right. You have no idea how deep it is, kids...best not to take the chance and stay safe and dry.

Of course, that doesn't mean I'm not an idiotic moron. I wanted to go get my ladylove (who lives in a low-lying, flood-prone zone) and get her and her roommate (and the dog...maybe a cat or two) to the (relative) safety of my place for the night. She told me the main roads were blocked getting in, but I said I could find my way around the back roads. (I know, I know...not the brightest idea I've ever had, but fools in love and all that nonsense...)

She told me not to worry. She was safe. The floodwaters didn't make it up to her place (even if they were about two short blocks away), and they only had two inches of water in her basement (at least they got the washer and dryer up on blocks now). It was best to stay where we were respectively, and know the other's safe.

Level-headed thinking. What a concept!

Things are starting to dry out now. There's a chance of rain for today (you can always check my weather by clicking on the Weather Underground icon, on the right side of the page), but hopefully, it'll be nothing like yesterday.

Just let the humidity drop, and the temperatures during the day stay below 80, and I'll be happy.

One year today

I'll most likely be offline all day today.
We'll talk later.

Memories are made of this.

I had a glass of pineapple juice today.

It tasted so good. I swear, I haven't had a glass of pineapple juice in years. It evoked memories...simpler times, but the, memories generally are from simpler times.

It make me think of visits to Disneyland when I was a kid, and going to the tiki village. They always had pineapple there, either big hunks or glasses of pineapple juice, or frozen pineapple ice. It usually was warm or hot when we went, and it always tasted so good. Doesn't matter if I just ate, had something else, or whatever, when we got to the tropical tiki place, I had to have some pineapple juice.

There's a certain smell that comes with pineapple juice, along with the great taste. It lingers in the air, stays with you, reminds you just how good it can me. Even though I finished it about a half-hour back, I can still smell it, and enjoy the memories it carries.

Memories so strong, I had to talk about it, even if the words seem insignificant and can't compensate for the memories.

Still smells good. Tastes better.

In fact, it was so good, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go have another...

Goddamn it!

I'm slippin' in my old age. Gonna hafta work on this...

Thanks to Cherry for pointing this out to me...

Simpsonize Me!

Go ahead! Simpsonize yourself!
(It's part of Burger King's crossover ad for the new Simpsons movie, but it's cute.)

(Only) 5 Weird Things About Me

Blame dear Cherry for this one, kids. She posted in her blog recently Five Weird Things About Herself.

Honestly, I was a bit confused. She referred to it as a "meme", and I admit, I never heard them called that before. Thankfully, Google had the search and WikiPedia had definition.

So I'm tasked with five weird things about myself. Since this is my blog, and I do like to talk about myself, I'll see if I can oblige. It'll be difficult...limiting myself to five items. Of course, what seems weird to you might seem normal to me, or vice versa. That's what makes Humans interesting: We see everything from a slightly different point of view, even if we're looking at the same thing. Funny, that.

Okay...

1) For everything I do, it seems, there's a ritual that needs to be done before I do it. Before I go to bed, for example, I have to check the doors twice to make sure they're locked, and on my way upstairs, I tap the banister post at the bottom of the stairs three times. I'm not sure why I do some of the things I do...it just doesn't seem right if I don't do them.

2) I do well when I'm trying to learn something on my own, but fail miserably if I take a class or try to learn in a structured environment. Classes bore me. My mind wanders off and I either end up withdrawing from the class, or getting a "less than passing" grade. Amazing enough, back in grade school, I was at the top of my class. High school and college, though...well, let's just say I wasn't a honor student. Yet, if I start to play around with something, and I'm left alone, I'll figure it out eventually.

3) Some will find this weird, some won't even blink an eye: I have never had a beer in my life, and honestly, I have no desire to drink the stuff. Looks like piss, and that don't interest me no how. ;)

4) I must balance things out. If I go left one day, I must go right the next. If I do something "bad" (not really bad, but...mischievous, let's say), then the next day I must do something "good". Some would say that's because I'm a Libra. The scales must balance out. I honestly don't know, but it's a weird little compulsion that I have.

5) If you ever receive a text message from me via cell phone, you'll know that I type out the words. I cannot use those cutesy little abbreviations! My fingers just won't type "l8r", "thx", or "u2". It literally took me 30 seconds to type each one of those abhorrent abbreviations. Hell, it was quicker to type that last sentence! It doesn't bother me to see that in a SMS, but...I just can't do it.

But that's just me. I'm weird anyway...

Driving with the moon

Went out to see The Kid tonight. She's doin' pretty good (thanks for asking). She was still up when I got there around 7:30 (night owl!), and we sat and talked (okay, I did most of the talking, but she did respond to things I'd say, and did offer a little).

It was a good visit with her.

Around 8:30, she was getting tired, so the nurses came and put her to bed. After they got her ready for bed, I gave her a goodnight kiss, made sure she was tucked in with Huggy Bear and then wished her a goodnight.

Left the nursing home and stopped at Starbucks. Yeah, I treated myself to a Chai. I figured...it was a good night...I'd splurge.

Driving home, out my window, the moon was high in the sky. It's very comforting, driving at night, seeing the Moon up there. I figured I was "Driving with the Moon", and that's a very comfortable feeling. Nice night, comfortable (not too hot), window down, music playing (Judas Priest playing "You've Got Another Thing Coming" on the XM).

Driving with the Moon. Yeah, it was a good night...

The next few weeks...

...should prove very interesting, indeed.

I was reading over my blogs from this time last year, some private notes I've kept for myself, and thinking about memories about what has happened.

My Year From Hell firmly started about this time. Days with four or three hours of sleep. Phone calls at work nearly every five minutes. Paranoia. Insecurity. Doctor's tests. Frustration.

I've had the chance, over the past few days, to reminisce over the past year, to think about what's happened, and to consider the ramifications of it all.

Hmm.

To top it all off, my best friend...someone I've known for years, someone who was there for me from the start of this Year From Hell...will be leaving Pittsburgh tomorrow to start a new job in Las Vegas. Got her packed up over the weekend, and she's leaving tomorrow afternoon.

Words cannot begin to express the thanks and gratitude I have for her. She was there when I needed someone nearby to vent to, to listen, to understand...

All I could offer is "thank you". Seemed insufficient, but it's all I could say.

So...once again...Thank You.

The call of the open road

I can remember, growing up, that around this time of year, My Kid and I would either be getting ready to go on vacation, or already on one. While we'd take trips by airplane to visit her sister in California, most of the trips were in the car.

When I was young, it was the beach (although, these days, I'm not much of a beach person). As I got older, it was cities and towns that fascinated me. Niagara Falls was a staple every year, and it never got boring. Toronto, which to this day I still call my second home, became a destination of choice.

Twice we drove cross-country (even though The Kid did all the driving...I was too young at the time). It was one of the greatest adventures I'd been on, that cross-country trek. Once down-and-across, another, more along the center of the country. I've some photos from those adventures, even though I did run out of film (remember those days?) partway into the Rockies. The memories I have can't do those justice.

It's around this time of year, I hear the call of the open road. I start to get nervous, edgy, anxious to get in my car and drive. Mind you, I worry about my poor car making the trip these days, but I think once she (yes, my car is female) got on the highway, we'd make it with no problems. She always did work better on open highway anyway.

Maybe it's those childhood memories that cause this urge, this feeling in my soul, to get on the road and drive. Maybe it's the monotony of everyday life here that makes me want to go to someplace different, see something new. Although, honestly, I swear, I could make the Pittsburgh to Niagara Falls drive blind-folded, I've taken it so many times.

There'll be no vacation for me this Summer, however. I won't say "times are tight", but I do have to watch certain expenses. I'm living on a budget, or trying to at least, these days.

But the road still beckons. It's a soft voice, in the back of my mind, pulling at my soul. I know I'll be on the road again at some point, just not today.

Well, that was quick!

Looks like my venting to Saturn.com went through after all...

I received this response late last night:

Dear *********,

Thank you for writing Saturn. I would like to start by apologizing for your negative xperience at Saturn of Pleasant Hills. I assure you that we take our goal to create a hassle-free, honest environment very seriously. We know you have plenty of choices other than Saturn.

I can't explain why you were treated in this manner. I won't even attempt to justify t or make presumptions about it. I can understand why you would not want to visit this facility again.

We appreciate the time that you have taken to share this situation with us. I have documented your comments and this information will forwarded to the teams who work with Saturn of Pleasant Hills to make sure they are aware of this situation.

I apologize again for any inconvenience this situation may have caused.

If you have any additional questions or comments, please feel free to e-mail us again or call us at ********************.

Sincerely,


******
Saturn Customer Assistance Center

Might not hear anything more from this, but then, I might.
If I do, I'll be sure to share it here...

A copy of my letter to Saturn

So, remember awhile back, I mentioned that I was having car problems and the dealership said I needed a new engine?

Yeah, well...

I'd been waiting for the proper moment (when I was frustrated and pissed off enough) to write Saturn directly...not contact the dealership...and let them know how I feel. Here, gentle reader, is a copy of what I've sent them.

Greetings;

Two weeks ago, there was a problem with the oil light "flickering" on in my 97 Saturn SL-1 coupe. I returned to the Pleasant Hills Saturn, where the car had maintenance work (egs valve replaced, bg flush) a few weeks prior to have them check the car and see if the problem might be related to the work previously done.

I should note that this was only the second time I'd used that Saturn dealership: In the past 11 years, all work (save for tires) on that car had been performed by Saturn of Monroeville, but because they were unable to work on the car that day, and I had a pressing engagement the next day and needed the car checked right away, I went to the Pleasant Hills dealership.

I noted that the car was, roughly a quart low on oil, so they said they would fill it with oil (no charge) and let it run for 15 minutes to see what happened.

They later told me that smoke was coming out of the tailpipe, and that the engine would need to be rebuilt or replaced. As as alternative, I could look into purchasing a new car.

At this time, none of those options are financially acceptable, so I left, and contacted another mechanic to check the car.

Imagine my surprise when, after he checked the car, there was a different story entirely.

He noted a smell of gas in the oil (something the mechanic at Saturn of Pleasant Hills completely ignored and failed to mention at any time), and said that the engine is fine: All I needed was an oil change. He said I should still get another two or three years out of that engine.

I find it rather curious that two mechanics would have RADICALLY different answers to my problem. I also find it curious that the dealership would recommend purchasing, imagine this, a new car roughly around the same time that of year (end of June, beginning of July) that the dealership is trying to get rid of existing stock for the newer models.

What's worse is that the "trained Saturn mechanic" would recommend replacing an engine...a MAJOR EXPENSE...when another mechanic merely recommended an oil change and, after checking and road testing the engine, said it was in good working condition.

Rest assured, I will NOT be returning to Saturn of Pleasant Hills for ANY reason.

Thanks,
*

Of course, the true irony of it all is that, when I try to submit the form, I get a 404 error. How fitting.

No worries. I'll keep trying. It'll just make me angrier...and you wouldn't like to see me get angry.

Onie ala the Simpsons

In case you hadn't heard, The Simpsons movie is coming out later this month. After 20 years on the (relatively) small screen, Matt Groening is bring his toys to a much larger medium (with the DVD release probably scheduled for, shall we say, Christmas...).

Naturally, there's a website for it (as there is a website for everything these days). One of the cooler parts of it is you can create a Simpsons-style version of yourself, how you'd look if you lived in Springfield, USA.

Naturally, the cartoon version of me would be a bit thinner than the real me, but since he's only two-dimensional, he can get away with it.

Thanks to the wonderful Cherry for spotting this first and posting her own Simpsons-esque (and totally hot) avatar.

7-7-7

Today is July the seventh, in the year of our Lord two thousand and seven.

7-7-7

Really, I had nothing else to say. I just wanted to have a post up for 7-7-7.

Which Star Wars character are you?

Your results:
You are Chewbacca

Chewbacca 71% Han Solo 70% Luke Skywalker 68% Obi-Wan Kenobi 66% Qui-Gon Jinn 66% R2-D2 65% Lando Calrissian 63% Princess Leia 60% Yoda 56% Mace Windu 56%

Sure you're tall and hairy, but you've got heart!

(This list displays the top 10 results out of a possible 21 characters)


Click here to take the Star Wars Personality Test

8 Random Things About Me

Over at her blog-with-the-coolest-title, Leghump Orgy Blog, Brenna challenged some of us to post eight random things about ourselves.

Well, I'm not one to refuse a challenge such as this (especially since it gives me a chance to talk about myself), so here we are:

* One of the stranger rituals I have is, when I go to bed at night, I get in on the left side (as you're facing it). When I get up in the morning, I get out on the right. If I get up in the middle of the night for any reason, I get back in the same side I get out of it, which is usually the left side (even if it means I have to walk the long way around it to get out of my room).

* I believe there's a balance to life. I can't bring myself to admit that I'm happy for fear (a rather irrational one, but most fears are irrational anyway) that the Universe will see the need to balance it out with something bad.

* I'm a collector (some will read that as pack-rat), but among the things I collect are comic books, Hot Wheels and automatic lead pencils.

* Even though it's almost been a year, I still feel guilty. Nothing more need be said.

* In the middle of writing this, my neighbor came over to bullshit. Spent a good half hour sitting on the back porch talking.

* I need my basement cleaned. I try to be a good housekeeper, but I fear I shall never live up to the standards set by My Kid.

* I never check my "snail mail" right away. I'll let it sit until the weekend unless it's something important (like rebates).

* I have a reason to smile.

:)

Blitherings from the self-absorbed idiot

So, yeah, I've been a little...disconnected...as of late. Seems like for everything good thing that has happened, something bad happened. Normally, I'd appreciate the balance, but it seems like the bad things have been worse than the good things are, well, good.

The worst thing was when I thought I was going to have to buy a new car.

Late last week, the oil light popped on and then popped off when I stopped at the streetlight. I'd had the oil changed about a month and a half before, so I figured I'd be good with that, but figured I'd have the dealership (where I'd gone for the last 11 years) check it out.

Before I went there Saturday morning, I pulled out the dipstick, and saw I was down at least a quart of oil. Mind you, I'm not a car guy. I know where to put the gas, I know where the dipstick for the oil is and how to work the radio, but that's about it. Never did care much for cars, outside of my Hot Wheels collection, so I'm not one to maintain my own vehicle.

Took the car to the shop where they told me I was burning oil. I had three options: Replace the motor, rebuild the motor or get a new car. From a financial standpoint, none of those work for me right now. They put oil in the car for me, and I told them I'd have to think about it.

I decided I needed a second opinion.

Thankfully, a buddy of mine has a mechanic he trusts with my life, and I trust my buddy with my life, so I took the car out to see him.

Got a different story from him. Couple weeks back (when the car had, basically, a heart attack and a valve wouldn't close, needed replaced, and whacked the credit card for about $500), they did a power flush of the system. That flush forced some gas into the already-low oil system and was causing a problem. The mechanic said an oil change would work, and I should be able to get another two or three years (with luck) out of the car.

Mind you, the stress of thinking I had to get a new car didn't help. I'm on a budget these days, and it's, well, tight. I might be able to look at a new car in a year or two, but today? If I had to get a new car now, I'd be looking at macaroni and cheese or ramen noodles every night for dinner. Not the most delectable prospect, trust me, even though I do like both foods, I can't see living on them.

Top that off with some other bad news, including my best friend moving away, and it's been a bad couple weeks.

My Kid has been all right, for the most part (thank goodness). Tired a lot, sleeping a good bit, and whenever I'm out there, she asks to go to bed all the time (even when she's laying in the bed). Some days are good, and we can talk. Some days, well, aren't as good, but I've learned to just accept those days and look forward to the good ones.

I'll try and pop around more often. Maybe some point down the line, I'll have better things to talk about, because, hey, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. :)

Watching the setting sun...

This photo just doesn't do justice to one of the most incredible sunsets I've seen in my life.


I was headed upstairs a bit ago, and just happened to turn the corner to see the most incredible, golden sunset I have seen in a long time. It's been a beautiful day...not too hot, not too humid, and all-around comfortable.

Grabbed the Olympus, and it...despite my wishes...focused on the screen in the window instead of the sunset.

It's all right. A photo just won't do justice to the memory.

Feh. Despite anything and everything else, it's been a good day. This was just a nice way to end it.

I think I remember how to do this...

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. I know.

I haven't written recently, mostly because I've had nothing much to say.

Life is good. I've nothing to complain about. Nothing to rant, nothing to vent.

How's things with y'all?

Whaddya think?

So, tell me, what do you think of the new header?

I had a few other images here before to choose from, but I decided...the panorama of Pittsburgh that I posted over at flickr just seemed to be the best fit.

Some folks wondered why the contrast was off. I changed the 'transparency' to accentuate the text in the box. Also, I like it against the black background.

Since the map's gone (and the people celebrated), I felt the page needed something.

And now we return you to your regularly scheduled blog.

Call off the hounds.

Someone found the Ivory Joe Hunter CD I mentioned in my last blog.
I've got it sitting here right next to me.

It
Sounds
Great

Excuse me while I put on my headphones and just enjoy...

And the search continues...

Sigh. I have issues. Many issues.

Today, we focus on two of them, since they're connected at this moment: My love of older music, and my unwillingness to accept digital downloads.

Over the past year or so, I've been searching for a certain album by Ivory Joe Hunter. I do realize right now a number of you are shaking your collective heads and saying "who?", because he hasn't really been active since before most of us were born.

Since I Met You Baby: The Best of Ivory Joe Hunter has some of his best songs. The title track. Empty Arms (I simply love that song). Rockin' Chair Boogie. A Tear Fell. Some of the best songs done by a man with one of the best voices, ever.

Sigh.

And the damn CD is out of print. Only a few places have it, and they want far, far too much for it.

Which leads me to the second part of the problem.

I could download most of the tracks from...shudder...iTunes, which I refuse.

Recently, The New York Times posted an article about the quality of MP3 audio. It's common knowledge that, when you take a song and compress it to MP3, you lose something. For the most part, when you're listening to compressed music through headphones, most people cannot tell the difference.

I can, and it frustrates the crap out of me. I know something's wrong, something's different, and it takes away from the moment, the experience.

That's why I still buy CDs. That's why, although I do have my music ripped to MP3 on an external hard drive at work, they're ripped with the highest bitrate MP3 has. And that's why I won't buy from iTunes.

So the search continues. With each passing year, however, it gets harder and harder to find some of the older music from talents forgotten today. Such wonderful music...lost...

It's enough to break my heart.

New neighbor or squatter?

Looks like I have a squatter, or perhaps, a new neighbor nesting in the corner of the rainspout outside my bedroom window.

I just noticed this yesterday. Gods know how long they've been out there. When the windows are open (which is as much as possible, unless it gets too warm...I can't justify the A/C being on unless it's over 80, and I admit, as much as I love it cool, I love the fresh air more), all you hear are birds (unless you're in the front of the house, at which point, you'll hear traffic, and if it's quiet, then you hear birds).

I could see the robin sitting in there. Guess there are eggs inside the nest. Since it's at the corner of a second story house, I'm not about to get the ladder out to check. Besides, they deserve their privacy.

My only concern is, when the Autumn comes, how the heck am I gonna clean it out of there? :)

Back home again after far too long.

Monday, I didn't get out of work until 5:30. A last-minute emergency project reared its ugly head, and I had the pleasure of prepping a laptop for someone to ship cross-country later that night. Of course, as expected, nothing went right, and I wasn't able to deliver the laptop until after most shipping places closed, but I wasn't about to let a bad laptop go out to someone...especially someone of importance...and have it fail on him. It looks bad for him, it looks bad for the University, and it looks really bad on me.

That ain't gonna happen, kids.

So, after leaving the office after a 10 hour day, one would think I would just want to go home and collapse.

Well, that's what you'd think. Me, I decided on other things...

June had come around already, and I still had not been to my home-away-from-home. I'd heard her call me. She whispered my name on the breeze like a lover summoning me, and I knew I could never resist.

The ballpark was calling me home for the last few months, but there were things preventing me from going...family, weather, funds...but no more, I decided. Tonight, I was going home.

I've waxed romantic about baseball before, so I shall try not to bore you with why I love this game too much. Yes, I could talk about the mental aspects, the psychology of pitching and batting. The drama that unfolds within nine innings of play. The subtle things the game has that draws me in and captures my attention like little can.

I could speak about the hope one has at the start of the season, and the start of each game. Hope that you have for your team to win, to take the pennant, to bring the glory of the championship back and how they share in the glory of winning with their loyal fans. I could tell you that, but given that Pittsburgh hasn't had a winning season in going on 15 years, I'd be lying.

Instead, I'll just let the pictures say more, and in a far better way, than I could ever dream of doing.

Instead, let me just share with you this gem, this cathedral, this ballpark that I call my home away from home. Taking my seat in the last row behind home plate, you can see it all. There's not a bad seat in the house, but to capture the majesty of this setting, nothing can beat Section 117, Row JJ, Seat 25. You can see Pittsburgh's skyline, a backdrop against the outfield, the skyscrapers towering over like monuments to that which has come before.

The field, where hopes and dreams are brought as offerings to the gods of baseball, each team hoping their prayer be heard and the winds carry their ball out of the park, or just let it drop in shallow right field.

You can see the antics of the fans on the big screen, dancing and cheering between innings (when they're not updating you with scores from out of town, showing plays of the week or Godzilla vs. Mothra...and no, I'm not making that last one up). It's also a great seat to watch people...those in their seats before you and those looking for something to eat, or a souvenir to remember the experience, behind.

And through it all, with the game on the field, the crowds around you, the energy and the life and all the magic that those produce, it's also just a great place to stop, breathe and be. Take in the moment. Savor that memory, that feeling that for just one moment, you can be a kid again. You can know what it's like to be free, to not have to worry about work, bills, family, life...whatever. Savor the moment, let the game take you.

Of course, then the home team loses another one-run game, and it's the mad dash to your car and fight 15,000 other fans to get back on the road and back to life.

That doesn't matter, however. For one fleeting moment, for a few hours...I was home. Back at my ballpark.

Back where I belong.

The difference between "refurbished" and "pre-owned"

Don Quixote is tilting at windmills again...

Okay, so here's the deal. Awhile back, I bought an XM Satellite radio. It was a good deal, and there was a $50 rebate.

Now this was a refurbished radio. Let me state that clearly and up front, but when I checked the fine print for the rebate, it didn't indicate word one about "refurbished" models. Pre-owned models weren't eligible, but the last time I checked, when something was sent back to the manufacturer and repaired, while it can't be sold as new, they do have to indicate it was refurbished.

Refurbished and pre-owned are two different things in my book.

Here's the best way I can describe it. I bought a radio new. It was DOA, so I have to send it back to get it repaired. It's easier for them to send me a new model, so they send me a new one, keep the defective one and ship me a new model. They fix the broken one and proceed to sell it, but it's not new. It's refurbished. That doesn't mean someone else owned it. The manufacturer had a defective unit replaced and are selling it again.

That's refurbished. Pre-owned is something different. Pre-owned means it's in working condition. It's fine. Might have a dent in the fender, but it still works. I either sell it to you or to someone else, who turns around and re-sells it. That's pre-owned. It was in good working condition and they're selling it again because they can't use it or they're trying to turn a profit or something like that.

I feel I'm getting screwed here out of my $50. This unit was sold refurbished. I know it's not "new", but you cannot tell me that a refurbished unit can be considered "pre-owned". It doesn't work that way.

Mind you, I've still got to call the company I bought it from because the battery in the radio can't hold a charge of more than 30 minutes off the base. I don't care if it's new, used, refurbished or whatever, that's just wrong.

I ain't happy, kids. I'm being bent over and reamed...

Miracles do occur occasionally

Yes, I am having a salad for dinner.

A nice Greek salad which I added a lovely lite raspberry kiwi vinaigrette.

Ate it all, too, 'cept for the eggs...and the pit they forgot to remove from one of the olives...

Laughter is the best medicine...

It's a good thing I live alone.
If someone else were with me, after this evening they'd have me locked away somewhere.

I haven't laughed this hard in...sheesh...I can't remember when.

Beerfest is more than likely not the kind of movie most readers of this blog would enjoy, but let me tell you, it was, by far, one of the funniest things I have ever seen.

Hearing Cloris Leachman say "If you can drink ram piss, fuck, you can drink anything" had me laughing so long and so hard, tears were flowing. I had to pause the movie for a good five minutes to regain my composure, text my best friend saying that I was laughing so hard I couldn't stop crying, wait for the phone call explaining the text, and then telling my best friend that we have to watch this together sometime before I could start the movie again.

Of course, I had to go back and hear Ms. Leachman...a venerable actress (and whenever I see her, I still say "Blucher" and go "neigh"...hardcore Mel Brooks fans will understand that one) talk about drinking ram's piss and stroke a smoked sausage in a sexually suggestive manner...well...I lost it all over again.

The Late Night Friday Flick is back, and it was kicked off again with a good one. Beerfest was damn good.

Oh, man...ram's piss...I can't stop laughing.

The last post on the Andre Rieu concert

...for 2007, at the very least.

And it's less a word and more a picture.

Me, at the concert, all dressed up.



The author does not guarantee he won't talk about Andre Rieu again, but this (should) be the last blog about a most excellent concert. Emphasis on "should".

A musical interlude

The following are lyrics to one of the songs performed last week during the Andre Rieu concert. It's a piece from the play Elisabeth, more popular with European audiences from what I've been able to gather, although I could be mistaken. I'm sharing it here because, besides being beautiful, I hope it's words touch your heart in some way...

I Belong to Me

I will not be well bred,
Obedient and well behaved,
I will not be steady,
And ready to be enslaved,
I don't want to be your property,
Cuz I belong to me,

When I walk the tightrope,
Don't stop me, Just let me try,
I want to take chances,
Find out what it takes to fly,
I don't care at all if you agree,
I belong to me,

If you try to range me on your own array,
You force me to leave you alone,
If you try to change me,
I'll just break away,
To be what I am on my own,

I'm freezing, I'm burning,
You can't put me on the shelf,
I'm growing, I'm learning,
To be even more myself,
I know it's not easy to be free,
But I belong to me,

I hate to be burdened,
With duties and ancient lies,
Can't stand to be touched,
By the looks of a thousand eyes,
I flee from the crowd in agony,
I just belong to me,

If you want to find me don't hold me so tight,
Don't break me and don't take me on,
If you try to hold me,
I'm ready to fight,
I'll shake off my chains and be gone!

I'm here when you need me,
I live and I die with you,
I'll share all your troubles,
I'll laugh and I'll cry with you,
You can blame me and bless me,
But you cannot possess me,
Cuz I belong to me,
To me!

Two hours and fourty minutes of Heaven on Earth

Friday night...
...scratch that.

Saturday Morning. Midnight.

Got home from the Andre Rieu concert about an 45 minutes ago.

Do I even have to tell you it was incredible?




Yes, there were moments when a tear popped into my eye, and My Kid was on my mind a bit, but it was beautiful. Sitting on the aisle in the center, three rows back, the view was amazing. The artists could see me as easily as I could see them (and given my good posture, odds are, they could see me more than anyone else in my section).

He did the standard fare: Strauss Waltzes, a polka or two, O Mio Bambino Caro (with the lovely Carmen Monarca singing...she is beautiful). There were some surprises, a new face or two (including a new soprano from Australia whose name I didn't catch, but whose voice...and figure...one could not ignore), and he did Bolero.

Bolero. I love Bolero! One of my all-time favourite pieces.

Of course, during the whole encore, the Pittsburghers stayed in their seats. I tried to stay standing and dance...yes, I did shake my moneymaker...when they played Marina, but given my height and girth, I didn't want to deprive the poor guy sitting behind me from seeing the stage.

Brahms' Lullabye came too quickly to close the show.

It was a beautiful, magical night. Wonderful. I loved every second of it. Maestro Rieu, thank you for another wonderful concert.

And if any of the ladies in the orchestra happen to read this blog, I was the goofball in the third row dancing...your beauty made the night all the better. :)

P.S. If you'd like to see more pictures, check out my flickr account!

Wake-up Call

Sunday morning. 6:30 AM.

I'm sleeping peacefully. Resting. No intention of getting up for at least another hour, when I hear a screeching outside my bedroom window.

I look outside and one of the local squirrels is sitting there.

(File photo of the offender, currently referred to as "Mooch" or "Hammy".)

He wants me to get up to feed him. I yell out the window to go away and let me sleep.

Next thing I hear is a couple "thuds" downstairs near the back door.

The damage is done. I'm awake. I go downstairs and look...the squirrel is jumping against the screen door!

Sigh.

No sleep for me, and no peanuts for him today.

Happy Mother's Day to all the mommies out there...

Things explained

Okay.

Last night's late-night post is what it is.

It's the morning. I had some sleep (but not enough) and I've made a phone call.
Things make a bit more sense now.

Still...it says something to me when you hear a therapist say "I don't trust my nursing staff" and "they don't have the time to do things properly".

Real confidence booster there. Makes me really happy I've entrusted my kid to your care.

Sigh...

Why is it that nurses in a hospital...a hospital...are able to feed My Kid properly, make sure she swallows, but the staff in the nursing home whose job it is to care for her are unable to do the same?

Why is it that, as soon as she gets back there, they say "oh, she's aspirating and we can't feed her and we want to put a tube in her stomach"? Are they that lazy that they can't take five fucking seconds to make sure she swallowed?

She needs help, yes. She doesn't remember how to eat. That's why I've put her in a home, to get her the help because I can't do it ...that's their fucking job.

First thing tomorrow morning, phone calls will be made. Pray for them I'm not as pissed as I am right this second.

I'm going to bed.

C'est la vie

Looks like my friend who said would accompany me to the Andre Rieu concert in two weeks can't make it. Business trips out of town and all that.

So I have an extra ticket. Anyone wanna join me? :-D

UPDATE!

Sorry, folks. The extra ticket's taken. :)

The visual definition of bittersweet

Most of you will understand what I say when I refer to this photo as the visual definition of bittersweet.

They came in the mail the other day.
It just won't be the same this year.
Likely, I'll shed a tear during the performance.
But I'll also smile, because it will be a beautiful thing.

For those of you who don't understand, please don't ask.
I've discussed it enough here before. Nothing more need be said.

Tom Petty did say it best...

The waiting is the hardest part
Every day you see one more card
You take it on faith, you take it to the heart
The waiting is the hardest part

So all I can do is wait.