Graduation Day

Twenty years ago this month, I graduated high school (pictured below in the foreground).

However, many of the activities that my fellow seniors participated in, I wanted no part of. I was glad enough that I was finally finishing school and didn't feel the need for a hubbub to made of the occasion. I refused to get a senior pic taken. In early '89, when a graduation questionnaire was passed around in government class, I filled in the box stating that I would not be attending. I only really had one close friend in high school and the rest of the people, I could take or leave. I was also still quite shy at the time and had no desire to be photographed wearing a mortarboard and black dress. Getting a class ring? Forget about it.

I was more excited at the time to see "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade", the first new Indy movie in half a decade. I understood that my social status in high school was mostly my own fault. A couple girls were interested in me in 7th and 8th grade, another in 9th, and still another in 11th. Though they showed obvious interest, I was unable to respond in kind. I'm sure this led a number to believe that I was a BattyBoy. In fact, I seem to recall, upon going to my 15th reunion, overhearing a female classmate making a comment about me attending with a female.

My grades in 7th to 10th grade were mostly shit. As a grade schooler, I was considered high potential, but the divorce of my parents led quite quickly to me losing interest in all academic matters. I stumbled onto good grades again by accident. In the 11th grade, I had a class with a history teacher named Mr. Krueger. He was a no-nonsense guy that only put on the chalkboard things that were going to be on the test. Without studying a whit, I got a test back and was suprised to see that I scored a C+. I got to thinking, "Damn, if I just put a little effort into things, I could be a B or who knows, maybe even an A student".

I proceeded to start taking my books home and really reading the material assigned as I listened to tapes by Genesis, Bobby Brown, and Richard Marx. It wasn't long before the A's and B's started coming in. I really began excelling at Kruger's tests, regularly scoring in the 90's. The positive reinforcement I got when the tests were handed back was worth all the studying.

Because I failed a couple classes in the 10th grade, I never had a study hall during my time in HS. I'd look at the people twiddling their thumbs, for the most part, in study hall and just shake my head.

Below is a pic taken from the second floor of the school (note the smokers on the lower right).

It felt awesome to be back at the top of my class again, just like in grade school. Despite the obvious pride I took in my grades, going to the graduation ceremony wasn't going to happen.

I'm not sure what I did that evening, but at least I'd alerted them that I wasn't attending. So it came as quite a surprise when my high school friend told me some time later that they actually did call my name that evening; after a few seconds passed, they went on to the next person.

Another reason why I didn't go was that it really was just for show, since the diploma wasn't given to the students anyway. I learned that they would be available at the school starting in mid-June. Since I didn't know how to drive at this point, I chose to bike, but not until the weather cooled a bit. It wasn't until July that I rode out there and picked it up. The secretary noted the lateness with which I was obtaining the certificate, but that was par for the course for me since I would be a virgin and not learn to drive until I was 23.

New Music

In the late 90's, there were a handful of artists whose music I would buy the day they were released; Tori Amos, Garth Brooks, Vince Gill. The quality of their prior discs led me to believe that their new ones would be slam-dunks. In most of these cases, I'd only heard the lead single, but that was enough for me.

It's now possible to listen to entire albums before deciding to purchase them. I have half a dozen Chris Isaak discs, so felt his new one would be very solid.

I streamed the entire disc on MySpace some time ago and though good, I didn't feel it was worth picking up for $14. I have more than ten albums by Tori Amos, but after streaming her new one on MySpace, will wait on purchasing until I can get it for significantly less (this is probably my favorite track from it). For the heck of it, I even listened to half of Eminem's new one. Just try to stay in a negative place while listening to the five tracks on this page.

It really is a great thing to be able to sample new music in this way. There are few things more disappointing than spending fifteen bucks on a new record and being underwhelmed by it.

When The Cat's Away, Movies Will Play

My partner in life is out of town this week to see her parents and I'm finding myself astonished and very pleased by the quiet. Zoe will bark now and again, of course, but the TV isn't blaring with "Pretty Woman" or "Meet the Parents" for the millionth time, either. Her trip coincides with some much-needed time off work. I'm able to sleep in to my heart's content, to watch the foreign films that I recently Netflixed; "Tell No One" and "Timecrimes" (she doesn't generally like subtitled films). It feels like I'm taking a timeout from life, an opportunity to slow my thoughts to a crawl.

Yesterday, I persuaded an out-of-town friend to come out to Rochester for dinner and a movie. He wanted to see "Wolverine", but I was up for something that wouldn't kill brain cells...call me crazy. He agreed to accompany me to "State of Play", a film starring Russell Crowe, Ben Affleck, and Rachel McAdams.

We went to the late show at the movie theatre closest to my residence. It was like a graveyard there (only 2 others were at our screening). I fear they might not be open too much longer. Course, that's somewhat my fault as I rarely go there. The sole reason I was there yesterday is because it was the only place in town showing the movie. It's always nice going to a film when there's hardly anyone else in attendance, though for comedies, I prefer a bigger crowd as the laughter from others can be contagious.

Here's a plot synopsis of "Play" (and for those who don't like reading, the trailer):

"Handsome, unflappable U.S. Congressman Stephen Collins (Ben Affleck) is the future of his political party: an honorable appointee who serves as the chairman of a committee overseeing defense spending. All eyes are upon the rising star to be his party's contender for the upcoming presidential race. Until his research assistant/mistress is brutally murdered and buried secrets come tumbling out.

D.C. reporter Cal McCaffrey (Russell Crowe) has the dubious fortune of an old friendship with Collins. As he and partner Della (Rachel McAdams) try to uncover the killer's identity, McCaffrey steps into a cover-up that threatens to shake the nation's power structures. And in a town of spin-doctors and wealthy politicos, he will discover one truth: when billions are at stake, no one's integrity, love or life is ever safe."

It had been several years since I'd seen a Russell Crowe movie and this was a welcome return. Affleck was excellent as the somewhat-compromised Congressman. At first, I thought the film took place in the early 90's as Crowe drove a '90 Saab and his work computer did not have Windows on it (just a black screen with white letters when he typed on it). References to You Tube and the fact that his colleague was a blogger pointed to a present-day setting. Comments on mercenary organizations such as Blackwater and the demise of the modern newspaper made the movie seem even more of-the-moment. All those up for an intelligent thriller, check it out.

Dying

I've dyed my hair thrice over the past couple years (my hair is about 50% gray and 50% black). The first time, virtually no one noticed. Another time, I did it shortly before heading to Chicago for a conference (see pic of me on left). I've not done it in quite a while now, but will most likely do so in the next couple weeks; my mother is getting married again and I may go to my high school reunion which takes place a couple weeks later. In addition to dyeing the hair I do have, I also have a small canister of Toppik which pleasingly fills in my bald spot. My mom has chided me for being vain while coloring hers almost nonstop. I don't typically like to gawk at myself in the mirror, but in '7 after I first did it, I was like, "Hey, Sexy!"

Shiggles (mostly the former)

Upon waking yesterday morning, it appeared that I'd finally have the opportunity to make-a the shit (it had been several days). Per recent tradition, I took a number of fiber tablets to get me going, as it were. Success! (1) But it was quite possible that I'd have to go again; that's the way it typically is for me. The wife and I had planned to go to LaCrosse that morning and a few BM's weren't gonna stop my ass from going (pun intended).

First we drove to Winona where I picked up my old high school friend, Brian. He was waiting outside for us. I had some more friends to drop off at the pool by this time, so asked if I could use his bathroom. He said his girlfriend was sleeping and asked if I go just go to Kwik Trip. I had a better location: the Winona Visitors Center (this is where my wife-to-be and I met way back in '96). I savored the location for a split second before going to their bathroom. Success, another BM (2).

Once in LaX, we had lunch at my wife's favorite restaurant, Beef & Etc. (it's the only area place that serves Vienna Beef and Chicago-style hot dogs; the stuff she loved growing up in the Greater Chi-town area).



Since we were thinking about seeing a movie, I grabbed the newspaper while they ordered and carried it with me to the bathroom (it was time again). A couple people looked at me with the paper in my hand, but I didn't care. While seated, I could hear my wife and friend talking a bit about me (the sound really carried). After a couple chuckles, I had yet another BM (3) and sat with them for a time; I planned to save my appetite for later, so didn't eat anything.

We then went to a used book store; I was hunting for a Ray Bradbury book, but had no luck. Then we hit Deaf Ear Record Exchange where I found a classic disc from my teen years for $5 (Arcadia's "So Red the Rose").



I had promised Brian that we'd go to "Star Trek" together, but couldn't resist seeing it the prior weekend (fantastic film). He still wanted to see it while I was up to going to the local pawn shop. My wife can't stand pawn shops, so elected to see "Trek" again with B. With a friend who is a big-time movie lover, she sees many more movies than me (recently, she's seen "Wolverine", "Monsters vs. Aliens", and "Ghosts of Girlfriends Past").

I headed for Pawn America while listening to Arcadia (an offshoot group of Duran Duran). Once at the shop, I wanted to start looking for some good CD's, but felt some discomfort coming from down below. I noticed a sign near the entrance that said, "Restrooms Available - Please see an Associate". I went up to the main registers and said to a guy (dressed in a white shirt and tie): "Are you an associate?" He said, "Yes". I asked to use the bathroom. He pointed the way and laughed a bit at being referred to as an associate. I did my business yet again (4) and then looked for some good deals in the music section.

About 45 minutes later, I had to go again, but didn't want to stink up the pawn shop's bathroom again, so went next door to Petco. While on the throne, a man came into the restroom with his young daughter. Seeing that the stall was occupied, he said to her, "We're gonna have to wait a minute". I thought to myself, "It's gonna be more than a minute, Boy". My phone went off and I heard the little girl saying, "What's that noise?" Thankfully, they left a couple minutes later. I again had a BM (5) and was starting to marvel at how many restrooms I had used so far that day (5).

It quickly became time to pick up my compatriots at the movie theatre, so I headed back downtown. As I arrived there, it was time again to "let it go". Since I needed to buy a ticket to get into the movie theatre bathroom, I (quickly) walked to Pizza Hut which was next door. While having my 6th BM, I looked to the side where I could see myself in a full-length mirror (nothing makes one more humble than seeing yourself on the throne). I headed back to the car. A few minutes later, they came out. My wife said she liked it more the second time since she understood it more. Brian gave it a B+ (It was an A- film in my book).

We went to a strip mall for a short time next. As soon as I entered the store, I knew it was magic time yet again. I went into my 7th bathroom that day (including my own) and again did my business. The bathroom was cool in that instead of having 3 stalls in a row, there were two on one side and one on the other.

Finally, we headed to Happy Joe's Pizza where I didn't have to go at all; I enjoyed several pieces of Taco Pizza and a Peanut Butter Sundae. What a day! Thank you, Public Restrooms, for being my savior. You really hit the spot in my most dire hour.

Seeing Into the Future

I started my subscription to TIME magazine in the fall of 2006 (getting a year's subscription for a paltry $20 was just too good to pass up). In October '06, they put a relative unknown on the cover. Looking back now, they were eerily prescient:

Now, you have to remember this was months before Obama even entered the race. He had been in the US Senate for less than 2 years and Hillary was considered the "inevitable" Democratic nominee. Even in late 2007, Obama was trailing Hill by double digits. Here are some choice excerpts from the piece:

"It is 9 A.M. on a fresh, sunny Saturday in Rockford, Ill., and nearly a thousand people have gathered in the gymnasium at Rock Valley College to participate in a town meeting with their Senator, Barack Obama.

About halfway through the hour-long meeting, a middle-aged man stands up and says what seems to be on everyone's mind, with appropriate passion: "Congress hasn't done a damn thing this year. I'm tired of the politicians blaming each other. We should throw them all out and start over!"

"Including me?" the Senator asks.

A chorus of n-o-o-o-s. "Not you," the man says. "You're brand new."

A nurse named Greta, just off a 12-hour shift, tentatively reaches out to touch the Senator's sleeve. "Oh, my God! Oh, my God! I just touched a future President! I can't believe it!" She is literally shaking with delight--her voice is quivering--as she asks Obama for an autograph and then a hug.

The question of when Obama--who has not yet served two years in the U.S. Senate--will run for President is omnipresent. That he will eventually run, and win, is assumed by almost everyone who comes to watch him speak."

Full article

After These Messages

In 1993, after having recently acquired a number of friends, it was suggested that I purchase an answering machine. This would make it much easier for others to let me know what they were up to and if they wanted me to call them back. I can remember hearing my mom's surprise the first time she called me on it (she didn't have one herself). I also recall how excited I'd be coming home from work or school and seeing that I had multiple messages waiting for me; they were like aural love letters. Several people left me goofy messages, but that's par for the course. I also went out and bought a new phone, one that fit my mood at the time:

I can remember one afternoon in 1997 when my wife-to-be received a call about getting electronic voicemail; an answering machine without the machine. We quickly switched to it and I find it hard to believe that others continue to use a physical device.

In the mid '00's, the phone company changed their name to Qwest. I always got a chuckle out of how my wife referred to them as "KeyWest". I had to make sure not to laugh too obviously or she would ask what was up (I didn't want to correct her; her pronuniciation was too cute).

A few years ago, we thought about switching to a different landline company, but the greeting she has on the Qwest service is just perfect and I didn't believe that she could record it as well again. We continue to pay $58 a month for the line and VM service.

A few months ago, I heard a really funny VM that someone had on their phone. It was so good that I adopted it as my own; in a computer voice, I say (alternating my tenor a bit with each word): "Please...leave...a...message...after...the...tone".

Change-Up

Last week, I was listening to a discussion about change (something in plentiful supply these days). The point was made that although most people look back on the major changes that have occurred in their lives (loss of a job, a breakup) as good things, many, when they're actually in the midst of a big change occurring, would prefer that it not be happening. They don't have faith that the change they're experiencing is, like so many of the others, for their greatest good.

One Of My Favorite Vids

Long Distance Dedication

I have wonderful childhood memories of Casey Kasem. On New Years Eve 1983, I sat in my bedroom for eight hours and listened as Casey counted down the Top 100 songs of that year (I actually taped the entire show on my boombox using 6 cassette tapes). I eagerly looked forward to listening to his weekly Top 40 countdown in the mid-80's. I strove to get most of the tracks on the charts on cassette. Sometimes I would look at the Top 10 in the paper and say, "got it, got it, don't got it, got it..." The reason I'm bringing this all up is because my old friend, Tim, sent me the following link this afternoon. To me, it was like hearing God swear.

Upon Viewing Nicolas Cage's New Movie

After decrying the paucity of recent quality Nicolas Cage vehicles last month, I ambled somewhat hesitantly into a showing of his new one "Knowing" on Sunday afternoon. My one-and-only said she thought I would like it and I'd pretty much seen everything else I'd been interested in, so decided to take the plunge with a friend. There's a bit of a commotion on the net over Ebert giving it 4 stars while most others have eviscerated it.

I went in hoping to get something out of it though not expecting much. It started out very interestingly with the burial of a time capsule in 1959. 50 years later, it is opened and Nic Cage's son is given a piece of paper that only has numbers on it. He shows it to his father who, as a scientist, sees a pattern, a pattern which strongly suggests precognition (in the movie, Cage is an atheist).

The movie did quite well in generating tension over the first 75 minutes. After that, there is a great deal of overacting (most notably by a female companion of Cage's). After a solid beginning, the film was starting to fall apart. Then it did something that I wasn't even remotely expecting (especially not from a mainstream film).

SPOILER ALERT: Severe Tire Damage

Are you sure you want to KNOW? In the latter half of the movie, it toyed a bit with the idea of the world ending, but since the film starred Cage, there was no way that was gonna happen, right? He would end up saving the day. That turned out not to be the case. As the poster somewhat alludes to, the Earth does, indeed, meet its demise.

Cage and everyone else on the planet perishes. Now that is ballsy and for that (and a couple other things that I don't want to reveal), I recommend the film. Though I wouldn't give it 4 stars (as Ebert did), it left quite an impression on me.

Hey, Sexy

A couple years ago, I began referring to one of my friends as "SexyBoy". I first became familiar with the term in the late 90's when I was working with the developmentally disabled. One of the guys (who had Down's Syndrome) would sometimes say to me, "How ya doin', SexyBoy?" I don't know if he thought I was good looking or not; probably.

He wasn't gay, though; when he saw an attractive woman, he would frequently look my way and say, "Sex her?" I all but forgot about the term during the early '00's. Thankfully, my memory was jogged a few years ago and it led me to list the friend in my mobile phone as "SexyBoy".

One evening, a couple weeks ago, he was calling me and another friend picked up my phone and seeing that the display said "SexyBoy", answered the phone and said, "Hey, Sexy". That really is a great thing to say to someone (even if they are of the same sex).

I think that from here on out, whenever I answer the phone, I'm gonna say, "Hey, Sexy". If it happens to be my mom, I'll be like, "Oh, I thought it was someone else". If it's a telemarketer, so what? If it's my girl, perfect. If it's a guy friend, whatever. Perhaps I'll even use it on the waitresses (and waiters) that I see at Friday's. I'm gonna run this joke into the fucking ground.

Summer Movies

I received my favorite Entertainment Weekly issue of the year yesterday afternoon: the Summer Movie Preview. Going to "Observe & Report" this past Saturday with the temperature hovering around 72, I was reminded of how pleasing it is to go to the movies during the sunniest time of the year.

Some of the big tentpole movies to be released over the next few months include Wolverine, DaVinci Code 2, Terminator 4, Night at the Museum 2, Pixar's Up, Land of the Lost, Transformers 2, Ice Age 3, Harry Potter 6, G.I. Joe, and Halloween 2 (I'm only interested in 4 of those 11).

The 5 films I'm looking forward to seeing the most are (click on the links to view the trailers):

Bruno, the creator of Borat brings another eccentric character to life

Star Trek, going back to where it all began (I don't know who the first guy pictured below is, but the second is Kirk, then Scotty, Bones, Sulu, and Uhura)

Funny People, Adam Sandler has a near-death experience, Seth Rogen also stars



Final Destination Death Trip 3-D, cheating death again, this time in three dimensions (no trailer available at this time)

The Hangover, insanity in Vegas

Relationship Status

Yesterday afternoon, I went on Facebook to see what the word was.

With nothing of note happening on the home page, I clicked on the All Friends link which brought up my three dozen "friends". I had intended to go to Tim Smith's page to see what's been up with him lately, but stopped in my tracks when I saw that the man who my younger sister has been dating for the past 3+ years had changed his relationship status the day before. I clicked on his page to see what was going on. His relationship status had previously said "In a relationship with (her name)". Now it simply said "Single".

I'd visited my mother the night before and she hadn't mentioned anything of the like occurring. These two planned to be married one day. What was going on (and how is it that this is the second consecutive day that I'm posting about the demise of an LTR)? I went to my sister's site and instead of saying what her relationship status was, that info had been completely removed.

I quickly headed to the phone and told this info to my mother. She said she'd call my sister's sister (they're twins) and see if anything was up. Turns out there is and I'm impressed how without Facebook, this might not have come to light for weeks, probably months. My sister's former beau should've just removed the relationship status box; instead, he changed it, which sent an alert for all to see (he's since removed the box).

What The Heart Wants

A close friend of mine dissolved a relationship he'd had with a woman for the past five years this past week. For years, he complained that she didn't give him enough freedom, that she would all but cry (and sometimes even do that) if he said he wanted to get together with his male friends.

About a month ago, I was able to convince him to accompany me to Friday's (knowing what her reaction would be, he didn't say a peep about it to her). It was partially his fault. I told him countless times that he needed to put his foot down, that it needn't be this way. Despite these issues, it was still fun going out to eat with the both of them. I was certainly thrown for a loop when I received a phone call on Friday that the couple were breaking up; the first thing I said was, "Yeah, right".

The thing that finally pushed him over the edge was when a woman he's known for more than a decade said she was available. This is a girl he's always wanted to be with, but never thought would be interested. He asked what I thought of his plans. I quoted Anakin Skywalker's mother in Episode I when she said to her son: "What does your heart tell you?". He replied, "That I want to be with her". And it really is that simple.

We walked around the lake on Saturday

and he talked of how good it felt to have this freedom, to not have to hide things anymore, that he can be totally honest with this new woman (they're taking it very slow as he completes the separation process from his previous love).

After a bit of pondering, I realized why he is so happy now; it's because he can truly be himself. When he was with the other woman, he couldn't be authentic. He had to talk, act a certain way with her. The soul longs for the freedom to be what it is, which is freedom, joy, and love. And his soul is singing very joyfully at the moment. Of course, I feel bad for the woman left behind and this new relationship may not even work out, but it is great to see a loved one happy, blissful, and waking up every day with a spring in their step.

Having Fun on All Fools Day

I love how April Fools allows us to say things to loved ones that wouldn't be prudent on any other day. Case in point: on the 1st of this month, I sent a text to my best friends' fiancee' that said the following: "A** cheated on you a couple years ago". She didn't respond because she knew it was an April Fools, but the event actually happened. I was speaking the truth, but because of when the message was sent, it was disregarded.

I also sent texts to two of my wife's friends (from her phone) stating that she was pregnant. One friend said, "Congrads" while the other told my wife's sister about it. The sister called my girl back saying, "Why didn't you tell me?" My love chided me a bit, but hey, April Fools' comes but once a year.

I pulled an awesome one on my mother last year, but it blew up in my face. For background, my entire family was in the Jehovah's Witnesses faith from 1975-1984. My mom left it in '84 as she no longer believed. I followed in '85. The rest of my siblings and fathers are still in the faith. Here's the email I sent to her on April 1, 2008:

"Hi Mom. I kinda wanted to get your opinion on something. Over the last few months, I've been going to a website called the Jehovah's Witness Discussion Forum. They've posted many interesting articles that have quite frankly fascinated me. People's experiences, the rewards of going out in service, the Biblical justification for no blood, you name it. I left the Witnesses in the summer of '85 when I moved from living with Dad and the kids to living with you in that apartment on Lafayette. I was 14 at the time. I guess what I'm saying is that I've never really given the Witnesses a chance as an adult.

I've been wondering what it'd be like to go to one of their meetings (probably a Thursday night one since I hate getting up early on Sunday morning). I haven't talked to (my wife) about it, but doubt she'll be interested in giving them a try. If I go ahead with this, it's possible that my siblings might make more of an effort to see me and that would be a good thing. I know there's no way that you're gonna go back, but what do you think about me looking into this? By the way, if you talk to (my wife) this week, don't tell her about this quite yet."

This was her surprising reply:

"You know that's kind of a coincidence. I've seen a couple of publications lately at the laundromat and at a client's house and I've been kind of interested too. Some of the things they say really make good Biblical sense. I think it would be a good idea to check it out. I have been considering attending a meeting sometime. Let me know what you think and direct me to any websites that you think might be beneficial. I won't mention it to (your wife) and I'm not ready to mention it to (my guy) yet either."

Damn, I thought she'd be dead-set against me going back, but was actually interested in pursuing it herself. Oh what a tangled web we weave. Here is a friend of mine's response when I told him about it:

"Your mom took that joke hook, line, and sinker. Oh boy. What can u do? Tell her it was a joke. Will she be disappointed?"

I did give my mom a link to the Witnesses website. She sent this to me a couple days later:

"Good morning, Tom. I haven't had a chance to look at that web site yet, but I do have a publication that I picked up some time ago that I have been reading. I can't help but agree with a lot of it. I'll keep reading it until I'm finished and then I'll look at the web site. Have a great day!"

Finally, a few days later, we got together at the Olive Garden where I confessed all. I said there was no way I'd go back to the faith for numerous reasons: women are not allowed to give sermons to the congregation, you can't question the faith once you've joined, if you're kicked out of it, members can no longer speak with you (even if it involves family members), getting a blood transfusion is forbidden, holidays and birthdays cannot be celebrated, and they believe that a creature named Satan exists. After sharing this with her, my mother came around and decided she'd stay where she was at spiritually. My joke opened up a can of worms, but it was nice to have a convo with her about the faith that was once such a notable part of our lives.

Billfold Theft

One morning, two weeks ago, I set my wallet and Friday's card on the kitchen counter (I usually do this when I know I'm going somewhere later in the day). After spending some time on the computer, I went into the kitchen and saw my Friday's card on the floor; the cat must've accidentally pushed it off the counter when she jumped up. I didn't think much of it.

A half hour later, I went into the kitchen to get my wallet. It wasn't on the counter nor was it in the drawer I always keep it in. I did some more checking until a thought crossed my mind; I had left the door to the backyard ajar so that the dog could come and go as she pleased. Perhaps the wallet had also fallen and Zoe had taken it outside (I remember once finding one of my vintage Star Wars action figures back there). I hastily got dressed. I had about 24 bucks in the wallet along with my drivers license and a few business cards.

As I headed out back, Zoe accompanied me and ran about 30 feet to where my billfold was located. She put it in her mouth and wanted me to chase her. I did and noticed that there were no green bills inside. Sheeeet. In the corner of the yard blowing against the fence, I noticed a few of them; it was a very windy day, a few more minutes and they probably would've been on another property. I gathered $23 as well as a couple of the business cards. I then grabbed the wallet from Zoe and looked to see if my Drivers license was still in it. It was, though, it had moved a tad. I went off-property and found a dollar bill that had made it through the fence.

I consider myself lucky that I figured things out when I did. The drivers license would've been a real pain to replace. I wish I coulda been out there 10, 15 minutes before. When she gets something she likes, she shakes the shit out of it. Can you imagine? Her doing that and all the money coming out? She had no idea that the wallet's contents were of value. To her, they're just playthings.

Here's a pic I took of her (and the billfold) a half hour later:

An Evening With James Van Praagh

Last summer, I had the opportunity to hear psychic medium James Van Praagh speak before a thousand people in Chicago. Before I describe the evening, let me tell you how it was that I first became familiar with James.

In early 1998, I was working at Barnes & Noble and so was frequently up on what the best selling books of the day were. Several people came up to me over a period of a week or two asking about a book called "Talking to Heaven". They must've seen him on Larry King or something. The book wound up being a huge best-seller and was turned into a TV-movie starring Ted Danson which premiered to huge ratings.

I didn't buy "Talking to Heaven" when it was initially released. I finally got around to it when B&N had it for sale on the clearance shelfs a few years later (I bought his second book "Reaching to Heaven" the same way). Over the years, I've seen him numerous times on "Larry King" and have to admit that I am a great believer in what he does. He was apparently going to be doing some "I see dead people" readings during his workshop that evening. Should be a good time, I thought.

Shortly after 8, one of the ladies putting on the conference introduced James and out he came. He was very funny, making light of being vertically challenged ("I'll sit down now...or did you think I was already sitting down?"). He first talked about how as a young child, he became aware of his abilities, but then squelched them feeling they were more trouble than they were worth. On one fateful night, however, he was dragged to a psychic medium who told him that one day he would be a medium as well. He didn't believe it at the time, but look at him now. He goes much more extensively into this in his books.

He talked about how he came up with the idea for the TV show Ghost Whisperer or as he sometimes calls it Boob Whisperer (a reference to Jennifer Love's ample cleavage).

He said she doesn't mind when he refers to the show in this way.

Shortly after 9, James said it was now time to do readings. He had everyone close their eyes and then told the women to open their purses. He was going to do a magic trick involving money. No, some music was played and we all became very relaxed. Upon opening our eyes, James had grown 5 inches! The women swooned. The readings were everything I had hoped for. I'd never been to an actual one before. He really was on fire, getting a ridiculously high percentage of hits. It really was something to behold. The lecture was scheduled to end at 10, but James was allowed to continue for another half hour.

There was this one tough dude that came through for someone and James didn't want to say two words that were being expressed to him in regards to the dead man's family. The audience said they wouldn't mind if he said them and with that, he said sheepishly, "He's telling me, 'Fuck 'em'" There were audible gasps as many in the crowd did not expect to hear such vulgarity coming from a keynote speaker. No, they ate it up.

A lady that lives near Ground Zero said that she constantly sees spirits in the evening when she's trying to sleep. A man that had passed on expressed to his wife that he sits in their old recliner from time to time and helps her solve the crossword puzzles she works on each day. She said she was wondering how she had gotten so much better at them in the last couple years.

Around 10:30, James closed and an announcement was made that he would be signing books immediately after. Just as I did with Deepak the night before, I took the liberty of taking his pic while he was signing, but it didn't quite go as planned. I took a pic of him, looked at it, saw it was distorted, deleted it, and then took another. Same thing happened. I did this again and again and again. I took 5 pics of him and every one was distorted! I decided to take a pic of my wife to ensure there wasn't anything going on with the camera. Nope, the pic of her was crystal clear. I was going, "WTF", but then realized that if what he says is true, there must be spirits all around him. I had no such problem with any of the other authors that weekend. Course, none of the other authors were psychic. Submitted below are two of the pics:

My wife and I discussed the distorted pics with a couple female attendees nearby before heading back to our room.

Excerpted from "My Experience at Celebrate Your Life 2008"

Late Bloomer

When I turned 15, my mother asked if I'd be interested in taking drivers training (classes weren't offered at my school). I said I could wait, that I was in no real rush to learn. I liked to look at my uncle John's example; he didn't get a license until he was in his mid-20's. Course, he was in the seminary where there wasn't really a need for a car, but still.

Once I hit 16, I still wasn't up for learning. I remember one afternoon walking and seeing three of my classmates in a drivers ed car. They all appeared happy, one step closer to fulfilling their dream.



More time passed and I had yet to change my tune. I recall one day being driven home by one of my friends' mothers and knowing I was of age, she asked if I had my license yet. I said I didn't and had no plans of doing so. She seemed quite surprised to hear this. Yep, I was a real nerd. It actually became a point of pride for me. I got around by walking and biking. I wasn't unnecessarily polluting the environment or putting another car on the road that didn't need to be.

I graduated high school and decided to attend college in my hometown. Most love leaving the city they grew up in behind. Not me. The years went by and I got by just fine without a car. No car or insurance payments, no money to piss away on gas. Course, I never had a girlfriend during this time, either, but that was due more to my social inadequacy than not having a "ride".

Finally, sensing that I was fast turning into a loser, my mom said she'd teach me how to drive. At this point, I was 23. I can still remember the afternoon in which she taught me the basics. As my mom showed me how to push the gas and apply the brakes, I was struck by how small her feet were. She said that she was taught by my old man when she was a teen. We'd chosen a back road to practice on for obvious reasons. As I drove, one of my favorite songs of the time played: Wynonna Judd's "Girls With Guitars".

One thing that was hard for me to wrap my head around was why feet had to be used to drive a car. The only thing I did with my feet was walk. You'd think by the '90s, they'd have invented a car in which you pressed a button on the dashboard to get the car going; same thing for brakes. I felt like Fred Flintstone, to tell you the truth.

A week or two later, I went to the license center and took a multimedia test for my permit. I passed relatively easily. I was halfway to being a full-fledged driver. Not too long after, I finally obtained a girlfriend. Months passed and I lost interest in getting a license. I only wound up getting it (at the age of 24) because I had to in order to work as a companion with an elderly man. I was close to broke and he offered me free room and board along with $100 a week.

I set up an appointment for the test. In a great display of generosity, the older man paid for a 2-hour drivers training session for me. The instructor gave me a nice overview of all I needed to know before taking the test. I couldn't seem to get parallel parking down, but knew that even if I failed, I would be fine...as long as I did perfectly on the rest.

I was certainly nervous on the morning I took the test, but followed the tips my instructor had given and was doing good until it was time to PP. I fucked that up, but what are you gonna do? I would up with a 78, I believe (passing was a 75). I was extremely relieved that I wouldn't have to take it again and for the next couple months, I worked closely with the elderly man stocking money up for the school year.

Though now licensed, I had no desire to piss my money away on a vehicle, not while I was still attending college. My mother did let me borrow her car from time to time, however. I recall one late summer early evening hearing David Ball's "Thinkin' Problem" on the radio. I quickly turned the volume up and began singing along. Life was good.

Shortly after I graduated college, my dad said he'd like to help me purchase my first car. He knew of an auction in which dealers would sell cars to each other and since he ran his own RV business, was eligible to participate. I had just met my wife-to-be a couple months before and was more than happy to bring her along. I got a bit PO'd at her as she was late in meeting us at her place; her chiro appt had gone over. I said she should've just left at 6:15 since she had agreed to meet us at 6:30.

We headed out into the fall evening. This was my dad's first chance to meet my new girlfriend. I explicitly remember hearing Lone Star's "When Cowboys Didn't Dance" on the radio as my dad conversated with my beloved.

We arrived at the auction and had a bit of time to look over the cars before the show started. My dad asked what kind of vehicle I was interested. I said a 4-door sedan would be fine. I watched with interest as dealers raised their hand to bid on the cars. It was a very congenial atmosphere with a number of children present and lemonade being served. One of the cars I liked, an 89 Mercury Topaz, came up for bid.

My dad raised his hand and the fun began. There was one other person who was also bidding, but he gave up fairly easily. The car went for around a thousand or so which was within my price range. My wife was very excited, almost as if it was gonna be her car. My dad had his mechanic do a few repairs on the car to get it into ship-shape condition (alignment, etc.) before handing it over to me. He said it would be a good in-town vehicle. Two months later, I moved to a city an hour away and for the next year would make frequent trips back and forth between the two towns. Oh well.

One good thing about learning to drive late is that I'm probably not as car-fatigued as others who started at the age of 15. Others my age have been drivers for well over 20 years while I've only been at it for 13. I can't say I'd really do anything differently if given the chance, well, other than voting for Clinton instead of Bush I in the fall of '92.

2 Movies & A Dick

The Mrs. and I made it to "Adventureland" on opening day. We were pleasantly surprised to be the only ones in attendance at the afternoon show. It's a great feeling, as if you have your very own screening room in which you need not be concerned about talky patrons or anyone kicking your seat. Like "I Love You, Man", the film wasn't quite as funny as I'd hoped, but more than made up for it with a lot of heart. It had all the period details of the 80's (including the first time I've heard the word "nimrod" used in at least a decade).

This past Saturday, I went with a friend to a midnight showing of "Fast & Furious" (The Fast & The Furious Part 4).

If you liked any of the first three, you're sure to enjoy this one. In 2001, I went with my best bud to the first installment. He said he wanted to sit in the very front row so as to feel that he was part of the action. I wasn't so ambitious, so sat in the very back. As showtime approached, I began to think I might not like the movie; I wasn't a big fan of cars and this looked to be car porn.

I went out into the lobby and saw that Reese Witherspoon's "Legally Blonde" was about to start in the theatre's biggest screening room. Unsurprisingly, the audience was heavily female. Though there were no belly laughs, I chuckled a few times. Once "Blonde" ended, I went back to where "Furious" was playing (I hadn't told my friend that I'd gone to another movie). Two minutes after I sat down, the credits rolled and my friend came up to me, pumped about what he'd just seen. At first, I just agreed that it was a good movie.

Once in the car, I told him what I'd done. He didn't seem to mind much. I did eventually catch the original on video and felt it to be a solid B movie. Vin Diesel was very charismatic (I was first introduced to him in the summer of 1998 when I saw "Saving Private Ryan"). Other than a cameo in Part 3, Diesel hadn't been a regular in the series since Part 1, so it was good to see his return in 4. Try to catch it on the big screen if you can. The action sequences are really good and I love how the ending tied in with the scene that started the film.

This weekend, I plan to see Seth Rogen's "Observe & Report". My wife caught it yesterday with a friend and said I'd like it. A few hours later, she mentioned that the film showed a male penis. Dammit, I said, I'd rather be surprised at such an occurrence rather than knowing such info ahead of time. A minor spoiler, I suppose, unless the guy's really hung. One thing I like to do when seeing cock onscreen is to whistle. Any guy can whistle when they see a woman exposing her goodies at the movie show, but it takes a very secure one to do so at the sight of another man's parts.

Walk Hard

I've not been on the treadmill for several weeks, but have found another way of getting exercise that is relatively painless. I stumbled on it a number of months ago quite by accident; when a friend or family member calls, I get up and start pacing around the house while conversating with them.

My mom called yesterday wanting to discuss some things about her upcoming wedding. As we exchanged our thoughts for about 15 minutes, I strolled around our fenced backyard. The funny thing is she was also walking while on the phone. Though I'm against hunting, this really kills two birds with one stone (I get a quarter-hour of exercise in while at the same time catching up with loved ones).

I brought this strategy up to my significant other some time ago, but she's been able to get out of it since spraining her knee. I'm not sure why I've been less impelled to go on the treadmill. It could be that my body wants to actually walk, to cover ground, not just walk in place (which is what being on the treadmill basically is).

Auto Tuning from Casey Donahue on Vimeo.

The One I've Been Waiting For

Adventureland

I love it when two movies I want to see open on the same weekend. It really makes me count down the days til Friday. Such was the case a couple weeks ago when I went to see "I Love You, Man" on Friday afternoon and "Duplicity" the following day. I actually preferred the twists of "Duplicity" over the fun of "Man". The latter just wasn't as funny as I hoped. Still a good movie, though.

This weekend, the two on my plate are "Adventureland" and "Fast & Furious". I've been looking forward to seeing "Adventureland" ever since I first heard about it a few months ago. The director of it directed my favorite movie of 2007, "Superbad". It also takes place in the 80's (1987, to be exact) and regular readers know what a big fan I am of the decade. Much of the movie takes place at an amusement park, one of my favorite places to be. The Tomato reading right now on "Adventureland" is 92%! I highly doubt I'll be let down by the flick the day after tomorrow.

The Main Man

The Best Sexual Euphemism I've Heard in a LONG Time

My Sense of Humor in a Nutshell

Last night, me and my significant other were perusing the menu at a local restaurant. The waitress came up to us and noticed the cast on my wife's right hand. She said to her, "Wow. What happened?" Before my beloved could respond, I said, "I accidentally pushed her down the stairs."

You Like a' the Juice?

To celebrate my graduation from college in May of 1996, my mother took me and my girlfriend at the time to the Olive Garden. The nearest location was more than 30 miles away, but the one who birthed me felt it would be well worth it. I'd never been there, but was up to giving it a shot. I've never been a fan of pasta, so opted for the pizza. It wasn't bad.

A few months later, I was newly dating my wife-to-be. We loved driving to LaCrosse that summer; going to a movie and the Italian eatery. One afternoon while there, I saw that they had white grape juice. Wondering what it tasted like and thinking it might be good, I ordered it and found it to be delicious. They served it in a small glass, so I typically ordered two refills while there. My beloved started calling it our love juice (insert joke, if you're so inclined).

There was an older waiter who frequently took our order. He became part of the tradition of our visits there. One weekend in 1997, I asked our favorite server for another hit of white grape. A moment later, he came out with the following in his hand:

My jaw dropped somewhat. Here I'd thought it had been some exotic brand, not necessarily from Italy, but certainly not a confection made by Welch's. My partner admitted surprise that our "love juice" could be bought at any major grocery store. After that, the juice lost its luster a tad though it still tasted the same. The item is no longer on the Olive Garden menu.

$1 Entree

It's that time again, time to save a few bucks at my favorite restaurant in the world, Friday's.

Leave a note in the comments and I'll email you a coupon good until April 30th for a $1 entree with the purchase of one at the regular price. It can be used over and over again. As a bonus, you'll also get a coupon for any appetizer you want for one cent as long as you sit in the bar and order a beverage. I ate there earlier this evening and it should surprise absolutely no one that their chicken strips taste even better priced at a meager dollar.

Caged

A friend of mine and I were talking this afternoon about the career arc of Nicolas Cage. He has a new movie out today called "Knowing" which looks about as compelling as most of the other films he's been in over the past 4 to 5 years. Ten years ago, he was at the top of his game starring in one of the best action movies I've ever seen, "Face/Off", and showing dramatic chops in films that easily could've been crap ("City of Angels", "Bringing Out The Dead").

He was still good in the early '00s, most particularly in "Adaptation" in which he played twins who were writing screenplays. Since 2005, his films have been downright intolerable. Not that I've seen many of them, but a quick look over at RottenTomatoes will tell the tale. Here are a few of the ones I'm referring to: "The Wicker Man", "GhostRider", "Next", "Bangkok Dangerous", and "National Treasure 2". My favorite movie columnist was discussing this very issue in a piece I came across a half hour ago.

Will the Cage of old ever return? Probably not, but thankfully he made a minor masterpiece about 5 years ago that I was lucky enough to see on the big screen. It's called "The Weather Man" and I highly recommend it.

Adaptation

I signed up to get emails from Obama late last summer. Back then, I read virtually every paragraph of every message. Now I look at the first sentence or so and then delete them. I don't have the heart to unsubscribe (yet). My mother purchased Obama's second book "The Audacity of Hope" for me last November. I made it through about half before getting bored with the dryness and all the talk of America's founding fathers. Last week, I replaced the Obama button I had on my jean jacket with one that says, "I am the Hope of Humanity" (I got it at the Ashland retreat). I've really not paid much attention to what Obama's been doing since he was inaugurated a month and a half ago. I feel that he's doing the best he can and am not too concerned about the details (though the porkiness of the stimulus bill is a cause for concern). Overall, I'm very happy he was elected, but it's fascinating how fast he went from something fresh to same ol', same ol.

About a year ago, I upgraded from a 96 Neon to an 05 Elantra. I felt like King Shit for quite a while, but now it's just my car, nothing overly special. Same thing for the 08 Accord that my wife has. These things speak to how fast we adapt. Even those who win lotteries eventually go back to the level of happiness they had before. Is this good or bad? It's hard to say, but such is life. It's quite possible that we adapt more slowly to losing things than we do to gaining them. I know it took me a great deal of time to get over the loss of my first dog. When a long-term relationship ends, it can take an incredible amount of time for one to gain true acceptance.

In sum, I'd say it's best not to jump to conclusions that you'll be forever happy if you obtain this or that.

It may make you feel that way for a time, but it's not gonna last. Like the best orgasm, it will be over before you know it. Best to enjoy what you have and leave it at that.

Doody Balls

I woke up yesterday morning feeling constipated, but certain that with a bit of fiber, I could bring my creation to full fruition. After taking my morning meds, I ingested a few fiber capsules. With that, I was set and evacuated for a short time. I knew there would be more to come, so walked a bit around the house knowing that exercise is a good way to "get things going".

I'd already go through all three of the weekly rags I get, so was perusing Billboard's Book of Number One Hits while on the throne; It devotes a full page to every number one hit from 1955 ("Rock Around the Clock") to 1988 ("Together Forever" by Rick Astley). I bought the publication close to 20 years ago. You know you're pretty hard up for reading material when you start looking over CD liner notes.

As luck would have it, I was off work for the day, so was able to spend most of my time in a bathrobe. In the end, I probably ingested about 8 FibCaps. I've said it before, but those things are miracle workers.

When I feel like I have to go, but can't quite get it out, 2 tabs makes everything alright. They're like InstaLaxatives.

In the early evening, I dug around the basement for a couple pages I'd written back in '05 about Brandy, our Saint Bernard. I found both pages and had a chuckle being reminded of things I'd forgotten about:

"I remember when it would snow hard, I'd go in the front to shovel and Bran would sit there eating as much snow as she could."

I know I could drop some more friends off at the pool this evening if I just took a couple more tablets. Destiny awaits...

I Love the 60's

In the latest issue of Newsweek, there's an article about a concert recently put on by early 90's relics, MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice.

One of the more interesting points expressed is that most of the people in attendance were only just being born when the two were at the top of their game. In other words, they weren't the kids who initially bought the albums, but who came to the music later through VH1 reruns or listening to an older siblings music collection. They're nostalgic for the music of a prior generation.

I've done this myself. In 1986, at the age of 15, I grew dissatisfied with pop music and began purchasing cassettes by 60's Motown artists. After a few months of collecting the greatest hits of the Supremes, the Temptations, the Jackson 5, the Four Tops, etc, I moved on to the Beatles.

I started with their greatest hits and eventually obtained every one of their major recordings. While others in my class were listening to Bon Jovi and Whitney Houston, I was spending my spare time reading all I could about the group from Liverpool that changed the world. Though they broke up shortly before I was born, their music is so much a part of me that it really does feel as if I grew up during the 60's (when their albums were initially released).

I'm a Dollar Menuaire!

Yesterday afternoon, I went out for a late lunch with a friend of mine. Under normal circumstances, we'd go to Burger King, but my bud suggested we hit McDonald's since it's more conveniently located. I was a bit apprehensive since I haven't been big on their stuff since the late 90's, but figured, what the hell.

We met there and he mentioned that he didn't want to have too much to eat as he still wanted to have room for supper that evening with his gal. We both chose items off the dollar menu. I chose a regular hamburger, a small fry, and an orange. As I sat down and looked at my food, I realized that it was exactly what I ate at Mickey's as a child. I never liked cheeseburgers, so always had a hamburger and all the fries they served back then were small ones. I felt a surge of nostalgia as I consumed the "food".

My parents frequently took us to McDonalds as kids. On one notable day shortly after the introduction of the Chicken Nugget, my father went up to the cashier and asked for "some chicken nuts". I specifically remember this commercial from 1982:



In the mid 90's, my first girlfriend and I would walk to the local Mickey's every week or two. She would eat her meal while I looked over the day's paper. I'm not sure what made me stick my nose up at it a number of years ago; probably just got tired of it. After going there a few hours ago, I think I've been a bit too hard on the place. I plan to go there a couple times a month for the forseeable future. I know it's not really good for me, but getting a hamburger and small fry isn't near as bad as those who opt for a BigMac and large fry (even if they do order a Diet Coke).

20-Year High School Reunion

This summer, my high school class is having its 20-year reunion. We've had just one before; 5 years ago (our 15th). Though I wasn't popular by any means in high school, I went half a decade ago to see how my compatriots looked and in a way, to go back to all those years ago. My wife came along with me. There were 300+ in our class and about 1/3rd showed up for the reunion.

A number of people said hi to me as we all sat down and ate a dinner that we had chosen beforehand. Something quite interesting, though not surprising occurred after dinner: everyone seemed to gravitate to the cliques they'd been in in high school. The dirtballs went outside and smoked, the jocks stood and talked to the pretty ladies while consuming not inconsiderable amounts of alcohol.

There were a few girls who were somewhat interested in me in my high school days and it was nice to see them again. Though a bit older, we really weren't all that removed from those formative days. The music (80's, naturally) grew too loud for my tastes and after talking to a guy who was considered a nerd in high school (and surely still is today), we headed out.

I'm somewhat mixed on going back this summer. If it's gonna be like it was in '04, then I don't really want a part of it. On the other hand, my best friend from high school is greatly looking forward to going as he missed the last one. I think it might be better if I go sans wife this time (most of the others didn't have their spouses with them).

I have something quite funny in mind if I do go. On most days in high school, I wore my navy blue Members Only jacket. I didn't just wear it to school; I wore it throughout every class (except PhyEd, of course). There was a pic taken of the entire senior class in front of the school shortly before we graduated and I can be seen wearing said jacket.

I'm sure you know where this is headed. Wouldn't it be grand if I wore one of the newfangled Members jackets I purchased last summer to the reunion? And not just wore it as I entered, but throughout the entire time I was there. Here is the specific jacket I would wear if I decide to go through with it:

Leaving My Hometown

In the fall of '96, I was living in a one room apartment with my wife-to-be. We were in the infancy of our relationship having met in late July. Having graduated that spring with a nursing degree, she was looking for a position as an RN. This would quite possibly lead to her having to move to another town. Would I go along? Would I follow her even though we'd only known each other a short time? It was a difficult decision, one I put off until she actually had an offer put out to her.

In late October, one came; from a nursing home in Rochester. The city, 40 miles from my hometown, Winona, was fairly familiar to me.

It's where my maternal grandmother had lived and the site of a disco club called the Aquarius (not to mention the Mayo Clinic). After a good deal of deliberation, I decided I would go with her (I was working at Radio Shack at the time, but looked forward to getting outta there). We chose a place to live called Homestead Village. It was a nice complex that had a park-like setting. All the townhouses there were two levels. Our place had two bedrooms and cost only $500 a month.

Of my mom's first 5 kids, she was closest to me and later said that she cried the day I left town. My girlfriend got orientated in her job while I commenced looking for one myself. The first few weeks were quite difficult, my homesickness very acute. I had no friends in Rochester, so typically drove to Winona about once a week, visiting my mother and a couple friends. Many times, I told my beloved that I wished to return to the Island City.

My loneliness hit a nadir one winter morning when she was at work and my car wouldn't start. I was literally stuck at home. Thankfully, I had a kitten to drown my sorrows with, but I was losing ground fast. I stuck it out, though. One thing that got me through was going to the movies. Winona only had 4 screens while Rochester had 19 (including a cheap theatre). I went to an incredible amount of films during this time (my wife-to-be worked second shift, so I was totally on my own in the evenings).

It wasn't long before I found a job which helped ground me. Getting a dog in the summer of '97 also helped in this respect. The visits to Winona gradually became less frequent and before I knew it, Rochester truly felt like home.

Further reading:

Pics of Homestead Village

My first job in Rochester

I Don't Think, So...

Have you ever wondered what it's like to stop thinking? Ever since a toe reader told me last summer that I should meditate more, I've been slowly, but surely working on it. The bath would be a nice place to do so, but it's just not comfortable enough. The recommendation is that it be done in a sitting position, but I'm so lazy that I'll typically lay down on my back or side.

It really is incredible how many thoughts can intrude when one just wants to shut them off. And they're thoughts I've had many times before, not anything new. What good is it to have that going through one's head all the time? And one's thoughts are so rarely on the here-and-now. The mind looks into the future and ruminates on the past.

After a few minutes of listening to my thoughts, I'll tell myself to shush and concentrate on my breath. After about 10 seconds, a thought may come in and if I'm not disciplined enough, I'll let that thought turn into another and then another. Eventually, I'll come back to the breath, though. And it is so quiet, then. There's no need to think about what I need because in that moment, I have everything I could ever want.

It's not an easy thing to shut off the mind, but very worthwhile. It leads to acceptance of whatever is showing up in life. I feel as if I am floating down a river, just going with the flow.

On most evenings, instead of watching TV, I'll simply lay in bed, turn the fan on, and relax. It's pretty funny because other than my favorite shows, I don't like to watch TV because it's too passive, but chilling in bed is even more so.

Many faiths have too much an emphasis on prayer and not enough on listening (meditating). When one prays, they're just spouting what they already know. To quiet the mind, to hear the silence, that's where the magic is. My favorite author has a saying that speaks to this:

In order to truly know God, you have to be out of your mind.

Eating a $40 Meal at a Fancy Hotel

My wife and I headed to our room and gussied up a tad. We were quite happy that we didn't have to pay a dime for the fancy dinner; some generous soul had agreed to pay for four people who couldn't afford to go (or in my case, didn't believe that any meal could possibly be worth 40 bucks).

We stepped into the banquet hall about 15 minutes after the scheduled start (this was intentional as I knew there was to be some socializing before any food was served). I asked a maitre'd if I could have a soft drink. He responded that the agreement was just that they have coffee and water available. What a rip-off! I told my wife I was going to get something liquidy out of the vending machine.

I found a dispenser on the 3rd floor (it was just outside). This was actually the 2nd time I'd been serviced by the machine; we'd been there the night before to find some chocolate to munch on before going to sleep. It was there that we petted a cat, a cat that we found out was the hotel's (shades of the shop cats we'd seen over the past few days). The cat was there yet again as I put money in for a 20 ounce container of Gatorade (I also got some juice for my beloved).

Upon my return, I found a seat and asked for a cup of ice in which to put my tasty beverage. Ah, that's much better now. I feel almost human. A few minutes later, we got in the buffet line. I'm a relatively small portion guy, so just took some chicken, a bit of mashed potatoes and something else that escapes my mind at the moment (I knew I shoulda took more detailed notes). My wife piled it on as she was aiming to get her money's worth.

We sat down and began eating. The chicken wasn't bad, but it was several degrees inferior to what was served at our wedding 10 years prior. The other stuff was mostly rubbish. I wondered if any of the others felt the same. No one was letting on at this point.

I tried two desserts hoping for better luck, but again, both were shit. My wife actually liked one of the items I didn't have the heart to finish. OMG. I can't believe how many sentences I'm using just talking about this meal. My wife didn't even drink the juice I'd bought her (perhaps peer pressure led her to drink the water others were having). There was decent conversation as we got to know a few of the people at our table better. One lady was wondering what Neale thought about 2012. I just shook my head.

- Recent update to "My Experience in Ashland, Oregon at the End of 08"

Part-Time Lover

Over the past few months, I've been working part-time (as opposed to full) and must admit to liking it. While others rush downtown at 7 in the morning, I'm usually sleeping in. While most work 5 days a week, I consistently have a 3-day weekend. Now, this kind of structure isn't for everyone. It takes discipline, making sure that one isn't living beyond their means. It really only took a few relatively minor adjustments to turn me from being happy with a full-time job to a part-time lover. I feel fortunate to have money coming in at all during times such as these.

A friend of mine lost his $13 an hour job last week and is frantically looking for something to replace it. When I asked him yesterday if I could take him out to Burger King for a bite, he said he was too busy at the local college looking for a job and that I should be doing the same. I chuckled at this because my soul doesn't care how much money I'm bringing in or if I get something full-time again. I was reminded of Deepak Chopra's Law of Least Effort.

Addendum: the title of this post alludes to a number one Stevie Wonder song from the fall of 1985. It was during this time that I moved in with my mom who was no longer a practicing Jehovah's Witness. This meant that after 10 years, I would no longer have to abide by the religion's precepts. At the age of 14, I hadn't received any birthday or Christmas presents since I was 4. You can imagine how happy I was that I'd be getting some presents for my 15th. So great was my excitement that when my mom was at work, I looked intently for what she had bought me. I found one present and carefully opened it to see what was inside. After doing so, I taped it back up again so I could act surprised when I opened it for real a few days later. I found a smaller present next to it. From the shape, I correctly surmised that it was a cassette: Stevie Wonder's album "In Square Circle".

I wasn't gonna tape this one back up (I wanted to listen to it too badly). For the next couple days, I had it next to my boom box and listened to it frequently. A day or so before my bday, I told my mother I'd already opened the tape, but not the other present (such a fibber). I can't recall her reaction, but my wife must've been privy to this story since many times when she's bought me birthday or Christmas presents, she'll tell me not to snoop around in the study (the place where she typically hides them before the big day).

My 7 Favorite TV Shows

7. Real Time with Bill Maher - HBO - Bill states truths that most others are afraid to (and in a very amusing way).

6. Survivor - CBS - after watching the first dozen seasons, I grew tired of the formula, but am glad I gave this new season a try. The Amazing Race is still worlds better in my mind.

5. Ghost Hunters - SciFi - I've mentioned this program a couple times in the past few months, most notably here.

4. Lost - ABC - It's not the easiest show to follow (I frequently go to ew.com the day after a new ep airs to gain clarity on how what transpired fits into the grand scheme), but with next year being its last season, it won't be long before all my answers are revealed.



3. The Office - NBC - the only sitcom I watch (other than 30 Rock, from time to time).

2. Big Love - HBO - it's incredible how sympathetic one becomes to Bill Paxton's character, a man who has three wives (living under three roofs on the same block).

1. The Amazing Race - CBS - the 5-time Emmy winner for Best Reality Show deserves every kudo it receives. Watch this season's first three eps here. Here's a cheesy sample.