The Summer of 1996

It was 14 years ago this summer that I met my wife-to-be; let me take you back to those not-so-innocent days. The first time I went into her apartment, I saw her kitten sauntering out of the bedroom. Once she saw me, a stranger in her place, she turned around and high-tailed it back to the bedroom; she would've slammed the door behind her if she'd had the means.

In those days, my girl was on the notorious prescription drug(s), Phen-Fen. It had helped her lose a good deal of weight. She ate extremely healthily, much more than me. One evening, she made us some Boca (no meat) burgers. They were awful, but I didn't tell her that. She never wanted to accompany me to one of my favorite restaurants, Taco John's, because they didn't have any low-fat menu items. One evening, she said, "Screw it" and went to Burger King with me where she had a Whopper; Lord knows she wasn't getting that in the bedroom.

I knew I had her in the palm of my hand when she started stocking food items that were my favorites, in particular, a 2-liter of Sunkist that sat on top of the fridge. One of my favorite things to do at her place was play solitaire on the computer. Her bedroom had a twin on the floor and one up on a loft. I never asked, but they must've been a residue from her dorm days. On some evenings, when she was at work and I was bored as sin, I snooped around her things.

One thing that bothered me a bit in those days was that she wouldn't go to bed at the same time I did; she liked to stay up late. Her favorite song at the time was Robert Miles' electronic classic, "Children". We took turns in her car listening to our favorite radio stations; I preferred country, she, dance/pop.

The first movie we went to together was "Phenomenon" starring John Travolta, the second, "Jack" starring Robin Williams. Coincidentally, she watched a movie last week which starred both of them: "Old Dogs". We went to a matinee of "A Very Brady Sequel" a couple weeks later where we were the only ones in attendance.

On one late summer evening, we took a walk around the bike path at Lake Winona (we initially met very close by). About 10 minutes in, it started pouring, so we ran back to the car. It's the kind of scene you'd see in a formulaic romantic movie.

During this period, I was reading "When Bad Things Happen To Good People" by Harold Kushner. I don't specifically remember this; I saw the book on the floor in one of the pictures taken at the time.

That fall, she attended graduate school where she was assigned a report for Human Development, a psychology course. The instructor said that a video report would be great for those who had camcorders. She ran the idea by me and I was all too happy to help. Here are the first few moments:

Movie Facts

As a 10-year old, my dream job was to be a movie usher. I loved buying a ticket and being captive for two hours to a story that would transport me to another time and place. Ushering would put me as close as I could possibly get to celluloid, without moving to Hollywood, of course. I didn't let other people's availability affect my moviegoing habits. Since seeing "Raiders of the Lost Ark" on my own in 1981, I was more than accustomed to going to a show on my own.

I would typically go to Snyder Drug beforehand to get some candy to chew on during the movie; in most cases, it would be SweeTarts or Tart & Tinys. I made sure to get to the theatre a good half hour before showtime in order to ensure getting my favorite seat (located on the side in the back row). At the time, Winona's theatre consisted of 4 screens. To the right of the ticket counter, a poster for a movie that was yet to come was always posted. On many occasions, I would smile looking at it, usually a sequel that I wasn't aware was on its way.

I was never big on popcorn, so skipped the concession stand. Once in a great while, I would play Centipede. It never lasted long, though, as I wasn't very good at it. After going to the bathroom, I would pick up a brochure called Movie Facts, a publication still in existence; it was seeing it at the theatre last week that compelled this post.



Browsing it gave me something to do while waiting for the show to start. Reading the list of movies with short synopsis, I was apprised of what was on the horizon. Next, I looked at the celebrity profiles. Hopefully, by then, there were a number of people in the theatre. Back then, there was no before-show commercials, just silence which was gradually erased as more people arrived.

Sometimes I would be disappointed at the paucity of people who showed for an opening night presentation. On other evenings, the place was so crowded that I had to bear someone sitting next to me. Of course, when a relatively young woman sat at my side, I wasn't quite as bothered. I wouldn't start in on the candy until the movie started or, if I was itching for it, then the previews.

In the late 80's, two attractive girls in the class behind me worked at the ticket counter. One of the girls had sat in front of me in Algebra class. One afternoon, before class, sitting at my desk, she walked in and sang, "Hey Good Lookin, Whatcha got cookin, How about cooking something up for me...." I smiled, but always wondered if she'd been talking about me or some radical dude she'd met the night before.

Enter To Grow In Knowledge

The first library I remember going to was the one at my elementary school. It wasn't very big, but there were still plenty of tomes that interested me. The paperback rack had titles like "Toby Tyler" and "The Search for Planet X".



(I was captivated by the thought that there might be another planet beyond Pluto, which it turns out is not a planet after all).

One afternoon, a classmate named Jeff checked out an illustrated book about mythology. Noting the photographs of nude sculptures in it, a girl named Vicky said to him, "I know why you're getting that". A number of boys in my class were into the NFL, so liked to look at Football Digest. One of the books had two pictures of Johnny Carson in it. One showed what he looked like on TV, the other what he saw when he looked in the mirror.

I spent a great deal more time at the Senior High library. It's where I hung out while classmates were eating their lunch. I had a perfect spot in which to sit. It was at a table that had a bunch of reference books on its top shelf; the books perfectly obscured my face so that people generally couldn't see me. It was also much less distracting for me, not having to lift my head every time someone crossed my peripheral vision. One of my favorite things to look at were the World Almanac and the Information Please Almanac (I saw the latter at the public library recently and had to chuckle).

A guy who was one year ahead of me came through the library one afternoon, coughing loudly. He quickly left, but not before saying, "Smoker's cough..." I laughed for a number of seconds after hearing that one and it left such an impression that here I am describing it more than two decades later. A dude who apparently didn't like the look of my face once came up to me and asked if I'd heard the hit country song by Hank Williams Jr. called "Attitude Adjustment". He said that that's what I needed. In my last week there, I picked up the day's newspaper to read the review of "Indiana Jones & The Last Crusade". They panned it, but I just couldn't believe that Spielberg was gonna let me down. That evening, I went to it and was quite impressed.

During my early college days, I sought to find out what was up with the bloke that some refer to as God. I headed to the Winona Public Library and started with Raymond Moody's seminal 70's work, "Life After Life".

It dealt with a topic that hadn't been discussed much before then, the Near-Death Experience. Reading similar works by Moody afterward led me to believe that something was definitely going on.

The thing that really sold it, in my mind, were the profound changes that these people experienced after their NDE. How could they no longer be afraid of death? No longer concerned about having a job or money? Some probably wouldn't believe until they'd had the actual experience, but the thousands of reports persuaded me that when we die, we are opened up into new worlds. It was amusing reading reports of people who were atheists wondering how in the world they could still be existing, looking back on their still body.

After not going to the library for a number of years in the mid '00's because I didn't like the idea of having to return books, I started up again last winter and have been greatly enriched by it. My old friend, Tim, said awhile back that he was constantly reading books. I doubted that there were works out there that I'd be interested in reading. I've been pleasantly proven wrong, however.

Today, after getting a massage, I had one hour to find three good tomes at the public library. I went to the God section and after a couple minutes of browsing, found "Fingerprints of God". Happy that I'd found a compelling title, I headed for the music section, but not before glancing down at the bottom shelf of the new release table and seeing a book called "Thriller: The Musical Life of Michael Jackson". It deals with the making of one of the most influential recordings of all time, "Thriller", a disc I listen to to this day.

Finally, seeing a copy of it in the audiobook section and thinking it might be interesting to read, I checked out "Bait and Switch: The (Futile) Pursuit of the American Dream". This same author recently released a book called "Bright-Sided" whose subtitle is that Positive Thinking is Undermining America. That might be one to look at later this year.

Now, if I could just figure out a way to bring back the card catalog...

Back Into the Way-Back Machine

Some have wondered how it is that I have such detailed access to events that have occurred in my life. I don't have a stack of journals in my basement; it comes almost exclusively from memory. The fastest way for me to access them is by seeing myself in a specific place.

For instance, if I project myself into my childhood bedroom, I can recall the time I played "Doctor" with a girl whose parents were friends with my parents. As she laid on the bed, I touched her bare chest. Suddenly I heard the door open, so quickly put my hand in my lap as if we had simply been conversing. Looking into my sister's bedroom, I see the diary she used to keep. It had a lock, but she didn't always put it to use. Curiosity compelled me to look at it a "couple" times.

Going into the dining room, I remember an evening in 1982 in which my cousin mentioned that the title of the upcoming Star Wars movie was going to be "Revenge of the Jedi", except he didn't pronounce Jedi correctly; he called it Jeedee. I enjoyed playing the children's version of the Jokers Wild game there.



One afternoon, as I read the novelization of "The Empire Strikes Back" at the dining room table, I came across a word I'd not heard before; "countenance" (it was referring to Princess Leia's face).

Heading upstairs to my parents' bedroom, I see the evening in which I, laying in a twin bed, dared my sister and brother, laying in a queen-size, to take their clothes off underneath the covers. They did so, but a moment later my father came into the room, saying that he heard what we'd been talking about through the vent; I suspect he was listening in standing next to the closed door. He gave a good little talk about how being naked is a sacred thing, something to be shared with another at a later time. Properly chided, I talked to my siblings about other topics.

Taking a look into the upstairs bathroom, I can see the time that my mom chewed me out because I'd left my underwear in there; we'd had a lady who was doing fix-up work for us and she must've had a gander. To this day, I wonder if they had skid marks.

Heading into my father's den, I see him doing some accounting work as the portable heater blows and a Gene Watson record plays. I visit for a few minutes before leaving him to his work.

Now, it's morning. I just woke up and am still in my pajamas. I bring the Saint Paul Pioneer Press in and browse it as I sit Indian-style next to the living room heater. Bill Diehl has a movie column that I read a couple times a week. After having pancakes for breakfast, I set off on my bike, eager for the next adventure.

Waiting For Godot

At this moment, I'm on top of the world and I don't mean that euphemistically (though I am happy to have today off). I am on the 18th floor of the Mayo Clinic; my love has a number of appointments here this afternoon. One side of this floor looks circa 1960's with old-fashioned chairs and only magazines to pass the time. There are a couple of Amish folks waiting to be seen. I did just observe something new, however. Instead of the nurse coming out and saying the patient's name when the time has come for their appointment, the patient is given a pager when she first checks in and it is then buzzed when magic time arrives.

The other side of the floor was built in the early '00's, so has lots of comfortable chairs, a number of widescreen TV's, and internet access. Despite this, everyone I'm looking at has their face stuck into a printed rag. From time to time, someone will gaze out the window at downtown Rochester. By rights, they should have exercise equipment here for people to utilize while waiting, but I suppose it's a liability issue. Sitting is not a very healthful thing to encourage, though. If people spent all their time in a chair reading, health would surely decline and that's not even including the lethargy that occurs.

An announcement was just made on the overhead speakers that a thunderstorm watch has been declared. I recognize the woman on the intercom; she's a friend on Facebook who I worked with from 2000-2004. I spent the first half hour of my time downtown walking to a number of places. I stopped by the library for a time, then strolled through the Civic Center where the Jehovah's Witnesses will be meeting this weekend. Next, I took a brief respite at Barnes & Noble where they have employees camped out at the entrance, eager to talk patrons into purchasing the Nook (an e-reader).

Myriads and Myriads of Songs

A number of weeks ago, as my wife and I waited at the car dealership for the paperwork to go through on her new car, I remembered that she had received an iPod nano earlier in the year as a 40th birthday present. She'd intended to use it when working out, but the car accident had made her trips to the gym become much less frequent.

Having nothing else to do (it was too hot out to walk), I dug into her purse and took a look at the tracks that had been downloaded by her brother-in-law. I chuckled as I saw that Lady Gaga's "Love Game", one of my favorites, was on there. I listened to it and then moved on to Kanye West's "Stronger". More than 1500 songs were on the device, mostly pop music that ranged from the 50's to present day.

A few days later, as I walked in a park while waiting for her to get through with a doctor's appointment, I found some great 80's gems on it: Simple Minds' "Alive and Kicking", Dwight Twilley's "Girls", and Mick Jagger's "Just Another Night", a song that was rolling through my head as I worked yesterday.

I started to see the value of utilizing such a contraption on a day-to-day basis. One thing I didn't like were the white put-em-in-your-ear buds. They didn't have the dynamic sound I was used to getting with my cover-the-entire-ear-itself phones. I was pleasantly surprised to find that my bigger headphones fit in the iPod's headphone port.

The last hurdle to truly enjoying it was adding some of my favorite tunes (I have more than 500 CD's). As I've noted a number of times in the past, I've never downloaded a song. This is no longer the case. I went to iTunes recently and, over the past few weeks, have put dozens of tracks from my personal collection onto the nano.

It's remarkable to me all the places in which I can use it. I listen to it when going out to play with the dog, when eating out on my own, at the movie theatre waiting for the show to start, doing grocery shopping, browsing for books at the library, taking a walk on my lunch break, posting to this site, and so on.

The only potential downside is the Nano's color:

But Lord knows it wouldn't be the first time that someone thought I was a Batty Boy.

Puppy Love

In the summer of 1983, my mom was no longer an active Jehovah's Witness; she said she no longer believed in it. It was during this time that my dad, along with his female Witness business partner, took us kids to the yearly convention in Wisconsin. We had the good fortune to be going with a couple girls who were my age. They would certainly make the trip much more interesting.

My dad's friend really knew how to drive in style; she had a blue Cadillac. On one occasion, in that huge back seat, we passed a city sign that said: Pop. 1532. I asked her what Pop. meant and she explained it to me. If I spent too much time in that car, I grew to feel quite nauseous. I don't recall ever barfing in it, however.

After several hours of driving that first day, we arrived at the hotel. The girl who was closest to my age, Melanie, had a conversation with me in the back of the Cadillac; my dad and the rest had headed to the office to check in. I was chewing on a large piece of gum. She mentioned that one of the reasons she was taking Spanish that fall was because she liked the idea of being able to swear at others in a different language.

At one moment, a huge piece of saliva (from the gum) came out of my mouth and fell onto her hand. I felt humiliated as she wiped the back of her hand on the underside of the car seat. We talked for another minute or two before heading into the hotel.

As day turned to night, my siblings and the two girls had great fun talking and watching TV. One of the movies that played as we visited was "Zapped" a cheese-tastic 80's flick which starred Scott Baio and Willie Aames. There'd be less time for fun the next day, but I was still looking forward to it.

We got up nice and early and headed to the center where the assembly for area Jehovah's Witnesses was taking place. We would be among hundreds of others who had the exact same views as us; one is not allowed to question the Witnesses' beliefs once baptized with them (even when the head honchos decide to change their minds about various issues; they call this "new light").

The real fun was had that evening as we looked for a place to eat. As we drew closer to the city's restaurant row, one of my favorite songs came on the radio: The Tubes' "She's A Beauty". To this day, listening to it takes me back to that summer evening.

We ended up eating at Showbiz Pizza, a choice I was ecstatic with as they had video games there. One of the newest games was Dragon's Lair. Instead of having typical video game graphics, it was animated like a cartoon. They also had MACH 3 which was a breakthrough game in that it used actual footage shot in a desert.



All this new technology made me happy that I was growing up when I was.

The next day, it was back to the assembly. Something interesting happened to me while there. I was sitting next to Melanie watching a drama; this is when Witnesses put on clothes from Biblical times and act out various things that occurred in the Bible.

At one point, I felt her foot on mine. I moved mine away, figuring she had accidentally moved hers there. A minute later, she again put her foot on mine. This time, I kept mine in place and quite enjoyed the sensation. I was now certain that she liked me (despite the saliva incident) and it felt great.

Later, we ate at Bobs' Big Boy where I had a juicy burger. Four of us kids had a booth to ourselves. As was typical in those days, there was a jukebox in which popular songs of the day could be played; Melanie played a popular country-pop song called "Snapshot".

As we headed home and I saw her resting on the other side of the car, my feelings were bittersweet. I was joyous that someone was taking an interest in me, but sad that we probably wouldn't be able to spend much time together in the months ahead; school would be starting soon.

As we drew closer to Winona, I saw a light coming from Sugar Loaf (it's the rock that's pictured on the cover of my book). I then remembered recently hearing that lights had been installed there; it was nice to see it all lit up. Melanie was woken up by our murmuring and though tired, also marveled at the sight. Though our trip was now over, I'd had a taste of love and looked forward to getting more of it in the future.

My 2010 Vacation: Day 4

It took me a while to get to sleep on Saturday night, in no small part, I'm sure, because of the full day I had. Thus, when my alarm went off at around 7, I decided that I would miss the first speaker or two of the day. It wouldn't be a huge loss, I thought, after seeing five speakers the day before. Something made me get up and take a shower, however, and I'm glad I did. As I left the room, I again attached the "Tranquility" sign to the door. I felt no need for housekeeping to clean the sheets or switch out towels for the entire time I was there.

Debbie Ford, whose primary claim to fame is as a proponent of bringing forth our shadow self, that is, the parts of us that we don't want others to know about, came out just before 8:30am. I can be seen in the 2nd row of the picture below wearing my Buddhist-monk-wannabe orange long-sleeved shirt. Debbie is standing at the keyboard next to a redheaded musician.



There was an even smaller percentage of men in Ford's clinic than there was for the conference at-large. Nonetheless, I was quite interested in learning about the Dark (Shadow) Side. I wasn't as taken with her humor as others, but that's probably because her jokes favored a different sense of humor, the type that women typically get more out of.

One of her main points is that if we repress any part of ourselves, that aspect seeks to be expressed in some way. It's best, she said, to claim that part of yourself and to let it speak. Over the last 20 minutes, we did an exercise where we took a part of ourselves that we didn't like and told it that we loved it, that we understood why it did the things it did. I could hear tears being shed as the meditation continued.

The most cathartic was the ending when Ford told us to embrace the person next to us and say, "My love for you is unconditional". I melted into the young lady next to me and we held each other for at least 30 seconds. I didn't know that person, but I couldn't help but feel deep love for her. It was remarkable. Ford then told us to hug another, then still others. The room was healing before my very eyes and I could now see why so many felt that Ford was da bomb.

Afterward, I had her sign my copy of her first book, a book that I never finshed, but may complete now that I've seen what she's capable of. She asked what I thought of the exercise. I said, in a somewhat clinical tone, "It was very effective. Thank you".

The next big shot I was scheduled to see was Michael Traub, a guy who was said to be able to channel a spirit named O'Brien. I wanted, however, to see Michael Tamura again. He had given me so many laughs the day before that I wanted more. Walking to where people were letting him in, I saw that it wasn't just any old volunteer looking to see if the people coming in had Tamura's name on it. No, it was the lady in charge of the whole kit and kaboodle.

Not wanting to mess with her, I headed over to see the other Michael. I found a seat in the 3rd row and looked forward to seeing a real-life channeler. Traub described how he cultivated the ability to do this, to allow a spirit to take over and speak through him while he, Traub, was in, as he described it, some type of blissful netherworld.



We were warned that O'Brien had a very playful sense of humor which was more than fine with me. Traub said that people shouldn't ask him after it was over what he thought about the session as he would have no idea what they were talking about. When he opened his eyes, he said, it would be like if someone woke you up from a nap, but with dozens of people looking at you. The more he talked about the process, the more I wanted to experience O'Brien and let me tell you it was quite a treat.

At first, just a few hands went up, but when the audience realized that they might be able to get answers to spiritual questions they'd been having about their life and loved ones, more than half the room had their hands outstretched. I raised my hand not once the entire weekend. I had no questions at all. I was, as the kids like to say, "Good".

One thirty-something black man asked what he might do to have a more rewarding life. O'Brien said that he doesn't typically say this, but that the man would benefit most from a long-term relationship. A lady who came with her twin asked if they had been together in previous lifetimes. O'Brien said, "Yes", and that they would continue to do so, that having a twin was one of the closest relationships possible. An older lady was wondering if she'd ever find Mr. Right. O'Brien said, "Are you familiar with ----?" (the man who needed to get into a relationship pronto). Another asked if her family's business would be up and running by 2011. He said, "Yes, you will get the business off the ground before the world is destroyed" (alluding to the 2012 predictions). I laughed heartily at that one. He talked about going "on-line" as if he were only vaguely familiar with it, almost as if it were still a somewhat unknown thing in the spirit world.

Someone asked about a car accident and O'Brien said that sometimes "accidents" happen, that the person who died in the crash hadn't intended to. This was news to me as I'm of the belief that nothing happens without the soul's permission, if you will. Something happening that's not supposed to, would, in my mind, make it seem as if God had made a mistake, which I don't think is possible. But that's just me. I was all smiles as Traub came out of the trance to much applause. I was asked later if what Traub did appeared to be authentic. I said that it did.

After a light lunch, it was time for another 90 minutes with Neale. Again, he came out early to greet others. I was pleased that he had some stuff I hadn't heard before. He mentioned "The Secret", probably the biggest-selling "spiritual" book of the last few years. He felt that it relied too much on getting material things. It showed a guy manifesting a new car, a woman getting diamonds, and even a kid getting a shiny bike. I chuckled as he said these things as I'd had the same problem with the book. Neale asked where the wishes were for world peace, for loving everyone, for sharing with others as opposed to obtaining.

He concluded with three ways that the kingdom of God could be brought to the Earth: first, by looking into another's eyes for more than three seconds. Just then, I looked back at a woman for a few seconds. I didn't really do it the way Neale intended, though, as I also tilted my head a bit like Larry David does when he's looking into a person's eyes to see if they're lying to him. Guess I'll have to work on that. The second step is to smile at that person. "This is dangerous stuff", he said. Finally, if appropriate, touch that person. A simple touch on the shoulder can do wonders for the recipient, especially if they are having a rough day, or life, for that matter.

As he signed books a short time later, I asked if I could have a pic taken of he and me. His wife said, "Do you want the three of us or just the big guy?" I said the three of us would be great and so it was done.

As I waited in line, a short time later, for Deepak Chopra's keynote, I struck up a conversation with a young teacher. She said it was the first time she'd been at the event and was so glad that she came. The sweetness of the people I met over the weekend just cannot be overstated.

Deepak's speech would be the end of the road for most of the people there; only a few hundred would be staying for the post-conference workshops. I'd seen Chopra two summers before, but he brought some new stuff to the table.

In particular, he had a chart on what specific things made people happy. At one point, he asked, "What makes people more happy, shopping or sex?" I shouted out, "Chocolate". He also showed a twenty minute video of a brain scientist who had a stroke and was privy to what it's like to let go of the analytical mind while it was occuring. Her bliss was so great as her brain was hemorraging that she was tempted to not seek help. She said we can access this place of peace anytime and wrote a book about it called "My Stroke of Insight". Once his keynote ended, I had him sign a book of his called "The Way of the Wizard", a work that my mother had given me in 1995!

I headed back up to my room for a short time where I sought to relax before going out for a bite to eat. I looked out at the spectacular pre-sunset. Planes flew back and forth in the skies, Lombard being but a dozen or so miles from O'Hare airport. I felt a surge of bliss as I simply laid on my bed looking out from the fifth floor.

A half hour later, I set out for Popeye's. Having my first taste of it three days before, I wanted to experience it once more before leaving Illinois. I'm not sure if it was the food itself, the spiritual high I was on, or some combination of both, but that meal was one of the best I've ever had. I took at least 15 minutes to eat a breast, a wing, and a corn on the cob. I was in awe at just how good it all tasted, "Wow" being the word that was going through my mind most frequently.

I walked back into the hotel lobby a short time later and looked to see if anyone I knew was at the bar. On the way in, I noticed Neale sitting at a table in the hotel's restaurant with a number of other guests, having a jolly good time. I also noticed Michael Tamura and his wife near the entrance. You gotta love the accessibility that the conference offers. I was tempted to go up to Tamura and tell him how incredibly funny I found him, but felt an email would suffice.

I walked back toward the ballrooms to see where the following day's conference would be. While strolling there, I noticed a lady breast feeding her baby, but with her breast fully exposed. Not wanting to do a double take, I continued on my way. After reading some more of "Kick Me" while seated in the lobby, I headed up to bed for my last night of pleasure at Celebrate Your Life.

In Minnesota Meanderings, Thomas Dixon discusses the most formative experiences of his life. Spanning nearly 40 years, his unique insights will change the way you look at the world.

Click here and then go to "Preview" to view the first 10 pages.

My 2010 Vacation: Day 3

I slept great on Friday night, so my Saturday shower wasn't as transcendent as the day before, but I was sure to get a spiritual high with five speakers on the docket. It began at 9am with a lady named Sonia Choquette.



I'd never seen her before or read her stuff. If there's one person whose seminar I wouldn't have minded missing, it would be hers. However, by the time her spiel ended at 10:30, I knew hers would be one of my absolute faves of the weekend.

The first thing I noted was that she looked and sounded like actress and wife to Ted Danson, Mary Steenbergen. I'd always found Steenbergen's voice kinda irritating, but coming from Sonia, I didn't mind as much. She had us do a few breathing exercises and then made us stand up and start dancing a bit as this skinny young guy in green who looked to be in his 20's came up to the stage and starting getting super-jiggy with it. His energy was very infectious. Check him out at 4:07 of this video from last year.

She told us to rub the shoulders of the person to our right, then give karate-type chops to their shoulders, then the same to the person on our left. But even more profound was an exercise called the breath of life in which, for 4 minutes, we raise our arms to the sky, utter a one-word syllable, lower the arms, then raise them again. She said two minutes into it, we would feel like we were dying because our arms would get so sore which was certainly the case for me, but seeing everybody else doing it, I followed along. I was NOT going to be the one who quit on it.

The four minutes ended and the feeling was incredible. I felt completely alive and most notably, completely in the present moment. It was an extremely blissful feeling and one she said could be achieved every day of our lives if we just took the four minutes to do it. I really don't recall much of what she said; I don't take notes during these things and Sonia actually had a requirement that no one else do so, either. Click on the above link for deets on the kinds of things she typically talks about.

Suitably pumped, the next speaker on my list was Neale Donald Walsch, the author of "Conversations with God". I'd last seen him speak last June at the same conference. I found a seat in the second row next to one of the ladies I'd met the night before. Ten minutes before the seminar was to start, Neale and his wife did something that none of the other speakers that I saw did during this time: they went up to people and warmly greeted them, had pictures taken, exchanged energy. It was during this time that Neale's wife looked in my direction with a look of recognition and a smile on her face and said, "Hi". I looked behind me, then pointed at myself and said, "Me?" I guess I was underestimating her ability to remember me from the 5-day retreat I'd spent with them in Oregon at the end of 2008. About twenty minutes into Neale's talk, he looked at me, stopped, and said, "Hi". I nodded my head and he said, "It's nice to see friends".

This would be the first of three consecutive days that I would be seeing Neale and it'd gotten off to a great start. One of the things he discussed was being told as a child that he was extremely fortunate to be in the situation he was in, that is, first of all, he was an American, which in the postwar era, was the place you'd wanna be. Not only that, but he was a Catholic, which was God's one true religion. In addition, he was white and a male! Talk about having the deck stacked in your favor. He spoke of how he eventually grew dissatisfied with the "I'm superior to you because of this" theory of life. When the 90 minutes were up, I lined up to get a couple of his books signed.



I mentioned that my wife wasn't able to attend this time, but gave her regards. I also said that I looked forward to Monday's all-day workshop. And with that, it was lunch time.

I met up with a couple of the girls from earlier and had a box lunch which consisted of a turkey wrap, a small bag of Lay's potato chips, an apple, and a Shasta. Just kidding about the Shasta. I remember being served that as a kid when I went to the Jehovah's Witnesses assemblies.

Before the next speaker began, a forty-something man with a guitar came out and regaled us with a song he wrote about love. He reminded me of Terry Jacks, the man who sang the 70's classic "Seasons in the Sun". I thought of a cool comment to give to the lady sitting next to me, but waited until he finished singing. The comment was all the more appropriate when he ended by saying, with complete sincerity and a smile on his face, "Have a great day!" As he left the stage, I turned and said "Why do I feel like we've time traveled to 1975?"

A moment later, Gary Zukav, a frequent visitor to Oprah, but a bit too undynamic for me, though he reminds me of Harrison Ford and has a kick-ass last name, came out. He talked mostly of spiritual partnerships, relationships that we have with others that cause us to grow spiritually. He said that all long-term relationships are challenging, but in most cases, worthwhile. He opined that the most profound relationship in our life is usually with our parents and/or kids. Tremendous growth can be found by working especially close on these relationships. One lady asked if all this talk of spiritual partnerships meant that he was against marriage. He replied that he wasn't, though, he saw no reason for people to live together if things started getting intolerable for one of the parties or if the woman gained 50 pounds.

As I left the ballroom to go to the next workshop, I noticed a young lady that had a sign next to her that said, "Free Hugs". She looked at me and said, "Would you like a hug?". I said, "Why not?" and embraced her. I wondered if she asked everyone if they'd like a hug or asked me because she was in the mood to get one from a guy; probably 20% of the participants there were men.

After a short break, the next speaker I was scheduled to see was a man named Michael Tamura.

He said that he has died twice and having done so, has no fear of passing on. He mentioned the healing he does for others in his dreams and was incredibly funny. He talked of a friend who said he wanted to kill himself. Tamura said that if that was his wish, he should do so. He even allegedly said to the person, "Here's a knife." Then he addressed the audience and said, "I like to be helpful". I was rolling in the aisle at that point.

More seriously, he told the man that if he did follow through, that he would just have to come back into the life again and live it without falling back on the "Poor me" schtick. When I was suicidal in 1993, one of the fears I had about killing myself was having to make up for the spiritual transgression. I wanted everything to go dark when I died, but feared this wouldn't be the case.

Near the latter part of the session, he did a meditation with us. I tried to focus, but he was just too funny. He had us visualize a rose and a moment later, told us to shoot at it and made this laser-like sound effect. Then he commented on how the sound effect really sells it. I started chuckling again and every time he made the sound, I started laughing, though not too loudly as I knew others were trying to concentrate. I kinda wished I'd been able to get something more out of the meditation, but laughter is a good thing as well. The lady next to me said she was going to be doing an all-day with Tamura on Monday. I began to toy with the idea of skipping out on Neale and seeing him as well.

For the dinner break, I ate at an on-site restaurant called Harry Carey's with two of the women I'd met. As we waited to get a table, I noticed the man in charge of reservations had a bunch of cuts on his face. I asked him if he was in a fight or if his wife had thrown him down the stairs. He said the marks weren't from a fight, but that he did look pretty beat up some time ago when he tried to stop his wife from falling down some stairs and wound up tumbling down them instead. One of the ladies asked how I knew that his wife had caused him to have such injuries, if I was an intuitive. I said that I didn't know that, that I always asked people that look like they'd been in a fight if their spouse had caused it. She said she admired how I said the things that she thought, but wouldn't typically think of actually saying.

The other lady we were with was still buzzing over having seen Gregg Braden who spoke of 2012. She elucidated on how the Mayan calendar was set up so that mighty big things would be happening on December 21, 2012. I don't really believe that malarkey, but found a good way to make a joke about it. I said, "Well, if Sarah Palin were to be elected President in November of 2012, then the world ending the following month wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing." She didn't laugh too heartily at that one. Perhaps I offended.

The last speaker of the night was James Van Praagh, a somewhat vertically-challenged psychic who referred to himself as a "small medium at large". He gave a quick run-down on how he became aware of his powers before spending most of the time giving readings for spirits he was seeing in the room. This was another guy who made me laugh a number of times not least when he was giving a reading and said, "Hold on a moment while I take a sip of this vod, uh, coffee". In most cases, he was dead-on with what he was relaying to those who'd lost loved ones.

My 2010 Vacation: Day 2

I woke up at around 3am on Friday morning. Only about 3 and a half hours until I had to get up for my all-day conference with Brian Weiss, the psychiatrist who stumbled upon what was apparently a patient's past life more than 20 years ago. I went back to bed hoping I could get some quality sleep and did. I stepped into the shower at around 7 and moaned with pleasure and not because I was touching myself. I felt like I hadn't taken a shower in many days, so it really hit the spot. Before leaving the hotel room, I had a couple small snacks to tide me over until lunch; a small can of Low Sodium V8 and a Cherry Nutri-Grain bar. I also put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door though this hotel's version simply said "Tranquility", a nice touch, I thought.

I headed downstairs to the registration area. Once I received my materials, I got in line for the Weiss seminar. I met people over the weekend who didn't care where they sat, but, by God, I was gonna do all I could to get seats as close to these authors as possible. I worked on USA Today's crossword puzzle as I waited in line. We were let in around 8:30 and I scrambled to the front finding a seat in the very first row and just off to the left. When Brian came out to speak, the lights were so dim that a woman in the front row said, later in the day, that she was having problems listening as she couldn't really see his face. She must've been a visual learner. To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, here's a pic of the lady who introduced Weiss:



Weiss explained that morning how he was very scientifically grounded all those years ago as a psychiatrist, but was thrown for a loop with a female patient. You see, she had a number of phobias, not least being a fear of drowning. Weiss sought to get to the source of this fear through regression hypnotism. He kept going further back in time until the woman was about 2 or 3, but still couldn't find a reason for the fears. It was quite by accident that one afternoon, he asked her to go to the source of those fears and it was then that she described what appeared to be a past lifetime. She wound up going through several of these lives and after a time, was healed of her neurosis. He did similar work with other patients and has regressed thousands. He's even regressed patients into future lives, something that boggles the mind.

We ended the morning by doing a regression session. I wasn't able to get anything, but this was no surprise as it takes an unquiet mind to typically do so. It took Weiss three months before he was able to have his own experience. We broke for lunch just after noon and I headed for a small ballroom where a "light buffet" (if that isn't an oxymoron, I don't know what is) was being served. Turned off by the paucity of food, though I prefer light lunches, anyway, I opted to go back to the hotel room where I had a Weight Watchers chocolate cookie and decided I was going to eat at the Subway at the mall once the all-day ended at 4. I also said goodbye to my beloved as she was going to be picked up by her brother-in-law in a matter of moments.

As I walked back to where Weiss' workshop was happening, I noticed a lady outside trying to light a cigarette. It was extremely windy out and she was having trouble doing so. I laughed aloud as I saw this. Then, instead of continuing on my way, I went back to watch the resolution. She tried lighting it again, no dice. I'm thinking, "Lady, have you ever heard of God giving one a sign?" She finally got up and put herself into a corner next to the door and had "success" at last. With a smile on my face, I returned to the workshop.

During the afternoon, we exchanged items with the person next to us in order that we might be able to see things based on the object's energy. I gave my mobile device to a college girl while she gave me a necklace to hold. I didn't really get anything nor did she. She did mention seeing a bow tie, something I wore on my wedding day, of course. Others in the room did pick vibes up, however. Of more note were how some of the lights behind Weiss would go off and on from time to time, at one point, in particular, when the origin of God was being discussed. The light man said he had nothing to do with it, that he was mostly away from the light board when these things were occurring. It didn't happen at all for the rest of the weekend.

Weiss opened the room up for questions later and someone asked about dogs having past lives. Weiss said they definitely have souls as they are frequently mentioned in people's descriptions of heaven. He added that he didn't know if dogs evolved up or down. I laughed out loud as my Pomeranian evolving to a human would be a step down in my mind, what with the unconditional love and happiness I believe she's experiencing as a canine.

Once 4pm arrived, Weiss signed his books.



I had a paperback of his first book that I had him sign. I couldn't really think of anything to say to him, so just said, "Thanks".

I then left the hotel and walked three blocks to the mall. Once at the food court, I ordered a six-inch chicken breast sub. This would be one of the only times during the weekend that I would see children; for some reason, parents don't like spending $500 for their kids to advance spiritually.

As I headed back to the hotel, I noticed their revolving door and opted to do something I like to do for fun on such occasions. Instead of just pushing the door half a revolution to get in, I swung it to go in, then kept pushing till I was outside again, and then one more time to get back in. No one seemed to notice it this time, but that's life.

After taking a rejuvenating bath in the early evening, I headed back downstairs to get in line for Marianne Williamson. As opposed to Weiss' pre-conference seminar which consisted of a little over a hundred people, Williamson' talk would go out to over a thousand. I'd seen her speak two years before, so it wasn't as big a priority to get close seats.

As I waited in line, instead of keeping to myself, I decided to speak to others near me. There was an older lady behind me who I looked at and said, "You ready for the weekend?" Those five words would end up introducing me to three women who I wound up spending much of the rest of the weekend with. They became instant friends and the four of us sat together as Marianne spoke.

Williamson had some good stuff, but wasn't quite as interesting as Weiss as her talk was more informational, not so much experiential. I had to chuckle near the end when she led the group in a prayer for the oil spill. I'm of the mind that all is for the highest good, so don't typically pray for things to go a certain way. As far as I'm concerned, the greater the damage, the more likely that they'll be a change in how we treat the environment. Once concluded, I headed up to get my book signed and merely said, "Thank you" as Williamson signed my "Return to Love" book, the first spiritual work I read back in the early 90's.

It was now time to hit another restaurant I'd never been to: White Castle. Just as I was inspired to go to Popeye's because of a movie, the same held for White Castle because of the "Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle" film. I was on top of the world as I entered the restaurant. I went up to the cashier and said, "It's my first time here. What do you recommend?" She said that they're known for their burgers, so I ordered a combo which consisted of 4 sliders, a fry, and a pop.

As my meal was being prepared, I asked the cashier if she'd seen the Harold & Kumar movie and mentioned that they were making Part III a Christmas movie and in 3-D. I said that it was gonna be "off the hook". Just then, I looked over and saw a black man eating his meal and giving me a bit of a look. Is it a faux pas to say "off the hook" if you're white?

I took my meal to a table and damn, those sliders were quite addicting. So much so that I was tempted to eat all four, but willed myself to stop at three. Here's a pic I took of myself while at the restaurant:



As I drove back to the hotel listening to Tori Amos, all was well.

My 2010 Vacation: Day 1

A week ago today, me and my old lady headed down to Chicago to take separate vacations. I would be staying 4 nights in a fancy hotel while attending a conference called Celebrate Your Life while my beloved would be spending quality time with her only sibling. We left around 10am in my compact Hyundai Elantra. I'd picked out two dozen CD's the day before to pass the time; it's a six hour drive to Chi-town.

As we left MedCity, I wished that there was something more comfortable that I could rest my head against. *insert joke* It took me a minute or two before I realized that there were two pillows in the back; I always bring my own when going out of town. I grabbed the feather one and placed it behind my neck. Ahh, yes. This would do nicely.

It was a brilliant sunny day as we left Minnesota and entered Wisconsin. Wisconsin is quite an interesting name for a state if you think about it. It has both the words "con" and "sin" in it. I hope this is merely a coincidence.

A couple hours later, my wife said she'd like to stop for a quick bite, so we found a Subway. She initially wanted McDonalds, but I shot her down saying that she could have some junk food that evening. My wife had a six-inch and then took a breather. We were now more than halfway to our destination.

I'd told myself over the past few days that I wanted this vacation to last. None of this crap about how the vacation had flown by. Many times for me, the first day or two will go by nice and slow, then will pick up steam (kinda like what older people say their experience of life is in general).

We headed back to the car and continued on. Knowing that Illinois is a toll state, we'd gotten several dollars worth of change to give to the toll attendants as we steadily made our way into the Land of Lincoln.



Some of the stops have actual people manning them, others have a little container that you throw your money in. A number of years ago, there was a toll booth attendant stationed at her post and I actually threw the money at her. I quickly said I was sorry, that I was so used to doing this on prior occasions that I couldn't stop my arm from making the familiar motion.

We'd been warned that there was some significant road construction taking place in Illinois and finally hit it mid-afternoon. There were moments when we weren't moving at all, but I took it in stride. The first seminar wasn't taking place until the following morning.

We arrived at our destination, the Westin hotel, at around 5pm. We checked in and by that time, were ready for some non-healthy food. One of the joys of going to Illinois this time was trying out some restaurants that I'd never been to. The one I was most looking forward to checking out was Popeye's. Ever since I saw Adam Sandler's "Little Nicky" in 2000, in which he said that Popeye's was "fucking awesome", I'd wanted to experience its pleasures.



Before entering the eatery, I went to a trash can to throw out an empty bottle when I noticed the weekend paper in there. Always up for getting new reading material, I dug it out and went in to place my order. We each ended up ordering a two piece with corn on the cob. I'd been told the week before that Popeye's chicken was better than KFC's, but had difficulty believing it. Well, turns out they were right. The skin was heavenly and I'd not had corn in quite some time, perhaps because it looks the same going out as coming in.

Before heading back to the hotel, we stopped at the local mall where my girl got a frappucino from Caribou Coffee. Once back in our fifth floor room, I began unpacking and took a bath while reading the latest book I'd checked out from the library, "Kick Me". Thirty minutes later, I put my robe on and headed to the bed. *edited for content* We went to bed after that. I hoped I'd be able to get enough sleep to not be tired the next day. There are few things worse than spending mucho money on an experience and not being able to enjoy it.

A Peculiar Occurence

I returned from my yearly vacation to Chicago the night before last and have much to say about it, but until I do, let me share an interesting thing that happened just before I left town.

Last Wednesday afternoon, I went downstairs to change the cat box and noticed a bunch of ants near it. I can't stand killing any kind of creatures; Today, in fact, there was a moth in the house. As is typical for me in such situations, I grabbed a paper towel and gently wrapped it around the moth before letting it fly out the deck door. Unfortunately, I couldn't see any practical way to do this for the number of ants I was seeing downstairs. So, with a heavy heart, I smushed them.

A little bit later, and I'm not saying the two events are connected, I felt some pain in my chest. I laid down for a bit and, after some time, it passed. That evening, I went out to eat with my girl and a couple friends. As we waited for our food, my beloved asked what the red marks were on my neck. I said they were probably from shaving. She said, "I don't think so". I forgot about it and enjoyed my meal once it came.

Later, as I began to pack various sundries for our trip, I glanced at the mirror and noticed what my love had saw earlier. There were three red marks, each several inches long, on the side of my neck:



In addition, there were two or three similar marks on my upper chest. I wondered if they could have come from the cat or dog, but the cat doesn't have any claws and the dog being able to leave long marks like that without me knowing just doesn't make any sense. So what could it have been? Were the marks and the chest pain related? I certainly upset somebody. There's no question about that.

How I Spend My Days

The day before yesterday, I was walking around the lake with a couple friends and noticed a gal and two guys coming our way; the boys were carrying fishing poles. I thought of a good line and as they passed, said, "You guys got big poles". One laughed, the other said, "Thanks" and the woman said, "I think they're compensating for something".

Yesterday, I went to Great Clips for a haircut. As I waited for one of the "stylists" to come up to the front to take my name, I noticed a small whiteboard and marker next to the cash register. While the other girls were busy giving haircuts (one said someone would be with me in a moment), I wrote "All Haircuts $7.99" (their regular price is $13.00). The lady who came up a minute later told me it'd be about a 20 minute wait. She didn't notice the whiteboard. Ten minutes later, another woman was checking a guy out and saw what I'd done. She laughed and said, "Yeah, right" as she scribbled it out.

Today, I purchased gas from the local convenience store. The bloke who checked me out was very distinguished-looking and appeared to be in his 60's. He was also really polite, the kind who would go above and beyond for his customer. As he took my check, I asked, "Are you the CEO?" He said, "No" and I replied, "Oh, I thought this might be one of those undercover things".

ER

I passed a number of patients on gurneys as I walked just to the left and behind the hospital employee. She led me to an open area which had space for about six patients. She pointed me to a spot and opened the curtain a bit where I saw the lady who I first met 14 years ago this summer.

She was conscious, but had a neck brace on. I don't know about you, but it's not a pretty sight to see a loved one in such a contraption. A couple nurses were asking her about the level of pain she was experiencing. She was throwing out numbers like 7 and 8. I noticed some bruises, or burns perhaps, on each of her hands. It was then that she was able to tell me a bit about what had happened.

She had just purchased a combo meal from Mickey D's (with a chocolate shake, no less) and was on her way home. She was stopped at an intersection. When the light turned green, she accelerated and was immediately sideswiped by an SUV (my wife was in a sedan). The airbag immediately deployed, but she was able to get over to the side of the road so that no one else could hit her. She gave a brief report to police before being sent to the hospital.

When the nurses completed their assessment, my girl was shipped off to Radiology where she was to get X-ray'd from head to toe. I spent the time reading a book called "Leaving the Saints". It's about a woman who quit being a Mormon when her definition of God exceeded that of the church, not to mention because she'd been abused as a child by her father, a prominent Latter-Day Saint.

She returned about 30 minutes later and we waited for the results of the scan. The nurse said she had something for the pain my wife was experiencing; it was something called Tordol. The RN said the potion would work faster if the needle was put into her upper thigh. She said it was gonna hurt as she stuck it in. As my girl grimaced, I said, "It'll be worth it".

A short time later, I headed for the bathroom and noticed an Asian lady spraying some aerosol into a restroom. I commented, "That's your favorite part of the job, isn't it?" She smiled. I also stopped by the gift shop for a few minutes where I got a blast from the past. They had a number of Invisible Ink books called Yes and Know.



I remember my mom buying them for me as a kid to give me something to do on road trips. I was tempted to buy one, but felt it could wait, happy enough at the memories that it brought back.

As I returned to the room where my love had been placed, I noticed that she was stationed in Acute Care as opposed to Critical Care. No wonder I hadn't heard anyone screaming; I was in the boring section. "Grey's Anatomy" wouldn't have lasted six eps if they'd focused on those in this area.

My wife's tests came back and she had no breaks. The worse injury she sustained (other than having to see my ass for at least a few years more) was a strained ligament in her right thumb. This and the burns she sustained were actually from the airbag deployment. She was fitted with some new-fangled device called an airbrace. Damn, her injuries came about from the airbag and now she was supposed to be healed by an airbrace. Well, I guess if air caused the injuries, it would only be appropriate that it be used to heal them. She was discharged about an hour later and all was well.

Yesterday afternoon, I went to the shop where her car is at to pick up some items that she might need (sunglasses, garage door opener, Backstreet Boys CD) as it's ascertained whether the car is totaled or not; most likely, it is. I had to chuckle when I saw her McDonalds's combo still sitting on the passenger seat, uneaten. I couldn't resist bringing it home and setting it on the kitchen counter. My wife asked why I did this. All I could do was smile.

The Call

I was getting ready for work yesterday afternoon when I received a call from my wife; she'd been in a car accident, the car was totaled, and she was being ambulated to the local hospital. I said I would be right there. I quickly wondered how badly she'd been injured. The fact that she was speaking was a good sign.

I notified work that I wouldn't be able to come in. I set some food out for the pets not knowing how long I'd be in hospital. Next, I brought along a book that I'd been reading just in case there was gonna be some downtime while there (a quite likely possibility).

As I prepared to leave, I realized that this would be an excellent opportunity to put my spiritual beliefs in action, specifically, that nothing happens that isn't supposed to and that all circumstances are avenues for growth. I was able to stay relatively calm as I drove into the city. I was listening to a prank call CD during the 10-minute drive. I did laugh at one point while listening.

I passed the area where she said the "accident" took place. The police were still questioning people and I saw her car parked on the side of the road with a number of owies (the "mishap" happened just 9 blocks from the hospital). I found an above-the-ground parking spot and walked to the ER as the sun brightly shone. I walked in and waited in line to speak to an ER attendant.

A few minutes later, I gave an older hospital employee my wife's name. She said that her name hadn't shown up yet. A minute later, she said that it had, but that no room had been assigned for her yet. She told me to wait a few minutes and I would be called when a room was ready. I was a tad nervous, but mostly placid knowing that what happened had happened (that's what they say on "Lost") and that there were only two ways in which to deal with the aftermath: either with fear or with love. It was just then that my bowels released.

Kidding. I headed over to a computer and thought of a website to visit while I waited. It took a good minute before I settled on Facebook. I was tempted to go to my wife's page and write "---- ---- was in a car accident", but thought better of it. I took a look at my Facebook news feed and found some relatively inconsequential statuses, so headed to my favorite movie website. Just then, the older lady said that my wife's room had been assigned and, after giving me a visitor pass, led me there.

Eating Turkey Makes You Sleepy

I browsed through a book yesterday called "Don't Swallow Your Gum! - Myths, Half-Truths, and Outright Lies About Your Body and Health". It debunks a number of common misconceptions that many people hold to be true.

One is that we only use 10 percent of our brain. If this were true, it would not be a big deal to hurt various parts of your brain. In reality, you will be affected by damaging almost any region of your noggin.

Another is that you should shit (or poop, for the more sensitive among us) at least once a day. Constipation is actually defined as having less than three movements in a week. This reminds of something amusing I witnessed at a psych ward a number of years ago. I was visiting a patient there on a regular basis and each evening, the patient would be asked if they'd had a bowel movement that day. Some of the nurses would just go up the person and say, "Did you....?" Talk about embarassing, for both parties, I gather.

Course, we all know that cold weather doesn't make one sick. Vitamin C was also debunked at being able to keep a cold at bay. Another classic is that men think about sex every seven seconds which is patently ridiculous. This would translate to thinking about sex over 57,000 times a day. That's about as many times as a person breathes while awake. Someone thinking about sex that much would be incapable of performing any other tasks.

There is also a persistent belief that eating at night makes you fat because it doesn't give you any time to burn off those calories before going to bed.



I know this isn't a truism as I eat the bulk of my calories after 9pm. I have several food items, in fact, every night just before going to bed; typically a Smart Ones pizza, a couple Oreo Cakesters, some chips, and a Nutri Grain bar.

Time Well Spent

There are those who say that life would be better if we didn't have to sleep, that those extra eight hours could be spent in much more fulfilling ways. I am not one of those people. The dreams I had last night should shed plenty of light on why this is the case.

In the first sequence, I was walking on some steps in the early evening and started talking to a lady whom I worked with about ten years ago. She began talking to a woman who I recognized from junior high and it was just then that I noticed a lady who I'd had a crush on as a 12-year old (She was now a late 30's adult). She was making her rounds for the night which consisted of skiiing over various hills to get to her work location.

Imagine my joy when she asked me to accompany her. The two of us talked as we headed to her work site. Once there, she showed me the task she'd been assigned. It involved melting ice blocks with some type of torch. She asked if I was interested in a similar vocation. I declined, but mentioned how much fun it had been to spend time together. Waking up, it really felt like we had chatted each other up and made a connection, something that's not very plausible in the real world.

On my next sojourn, I was outside the house of worship that I went to as a child. Someone asked me to come in, but I was a bit nervous. I somehow knew that it was 1986 and by that time, I was no longer involved in the organization. Just then, I said to myself, "It's not 1986, it's 1984!"



(Yes, that is Steve Jobs pictured above)

With my conscience soothed, I entered the building and talked with a number of people I hadn't seen in quite some time.

The last stop was a house in which I was able to spend some time with my Saint Bernard, Brandy, the one who passed five years ago this summer. I got to hold her, squeeze her, whisper in her ears. It was all very real to me and, therefore, easy to understand why I woke up in such a good mood.

If I was given an extra eight hours to spend each day, it would most likely be spent in front of various rectangular devices (the TV, the internet, cell phone). Those kinds of things are a poor substitute, in my mind (pun intended), to experiencing lifelong dreams come true in my dreams.

Cool Explosions & The End of Suffering

Because of my high-school fainting spells, I had to steer clear of Biology classes in college. That didn't leave a lot of options when it came to getting my science classes in. I took a couple classes in Geology in my first year or two of college, but it was awfully dry (pun intended).

I heard through the grapevine that there was an older dude who taught Chemistry and actually made it fun (I was only able to pass Chemistry in high school because of the ridiculously generous curve Mr Johnson gave us). Word was that he was quite humorous and had really cool small explosions that he enlightened the class with. The name of the course was Chemistry Appreciation. I decided that if I got in over my head, I could just drop the class.

On the first day, I found a seat and waited for the professor to appear. Just then, there was a burst of smoke at the front of the room and he appeared amidst it. I felt like I was at Hogwarts, if it had been invented back then, that is. Oh, who am I kidding? He arrived like every other prof usually does.

The first day of classes is always interesting in that you never know if the teachers will be a joy to learn from or insufferable bores that will be a slog to make it through the quarter with (Semesters weren't adopted until a couple years after I graduated). Fred Foss had a great sense of humor and must've been in his late 60's or higher. He said that he planned to live a LONG time, that the best revenge is to outlive others. He mentioned that there were strategies one could use to help make this possible, not least of them, whiskey and a broad.



Seriously, he said that he'd not been sick in many years and one of the reasons he believed this was so is because of the high amount of vitamin C he ingested every morning. Back then, I caught a cold or flu at least a few times a year, so was more than willing to give his suggestion a try. I wound up buying a bottle of vitamin C that had 500mg tablets, significantly higher than what the FDA recommended (I believe Foss took an even higher dose).

Time passed and Mr. Foss performed many of the tricks, I mean, illusions, I mean experiments that I'd heard about. He made Chemistry more fun than I thought possible. And as the months passed, I did, indeed, get sick much less frequently: It should also be noted that I never get the flu shot.

When I hear that others are suffering with a cold or the flu, I sometimes opine that it wouldn't hurt for them to up their intake of vitamin C. It mostly falls on deaf ears. I'm not sure if they don't believe that it will work or are just of the mind that suffering is next to Godliness, but I always shake my head when I hear that there are bugs going around as they never seem to strike me.

Forgive Me, Father, For I Have Sinned

Have you ever done something that you know you shouldn't (like looking at the reflection of your ass in the toilet bowl)? One afternoon in the early 90's, I was walking on 3rd Street in my hometown. I passed a phone booth (remember those?) and something caught my eye. I turned around and went into the booth. There was a wallet inside. I took a look around to make sure no one was watching and opened it. There was more than one hundred dollars inside!

I looked at the guy's ID. He was a twenty something college student. He must've called for a ride the night before and was so wasted that he forgot his wallet. The wheels started turning in my head. I knew I shouldn't, but decided that if I could get away with it, I would. I was most afraid that someone might be watching me, so hesitated for a minute or two. Finally, I decided to go for it. I took da moolah out of the wallet and put it into my pocket. I got an adrenaline rush and walked relatively quickly back home.

I got home and looked at the cash. This was extra money. I could do anything I wanted with it. I mostly treated myself with it, went out to eat, bought cassettes. I assume the wallet itself eventually found its way back to its owner (I just left it there). If that happened to me now, I'd turn both the money and the wallet in to the police or place an ad in the paper (remember those?). Back then, however, I was a poor, somewhat morally compromised college boy. Sometimes I miss those days.

Ambiguity

I just finished reading Stumbling on Happiness by Daniel Gilbert, a tome on why it is that we tend to suck so hard at predicting what will make us happy. One of the many interesting things I read in the book had to do with events that we can't make sense of:

"If an event defies explanation, it becomes an mystery or conundrum and if there's one thing we all know about mysterious conundrums, it is that they generally refuse to stay in the back of our minds. Filmmakers and novelists often capitalize on this fact by fitting their narratives with mysterious endings, and research shows that people are, in fact, more likely to keep thinking about a movie when they can't explain what happened to the main character. And if they liked the movie, this morsel of mystery causes them to remain happy longer."

Two of my favorite movies from last year (A Serious Man & Up In The Air) had endings in which I didn't know what was to become of the main character (Up In The Air's ending was just that), but did I chastise the movie screen for this?




Nope, it only added to the allure. Another fave, 2002's Unfaithful with Richard Gere, ended with Gere in his SUV in front of a police station contemplating if he was going to turn himself in for an accidental murder or leave the state with his family.

Sometimes I try to fill in the blanks and say what I believe the character wound up doing. Other times, I just smile and say, "Hey, that's the way life is sometimes". Like the author says, these types of endings almost always cause me to think more about the film than I typically would. I'm aware that there are those who get frustrated by unresolved denouements. My advice to them is to stay the hell away from indie films and stick with the lowest-common-demoninator stuff.

Love & Joy on a Spring Evening

The time has come for me to discuss the concert I went to last month (this was where I saw the TV monitors that were placed over the urinals; I wonder if the women has these as well or if they were shit outta luck). Way back in 1993, I was friends with a cool girl named Candy; it was platonic, she had a boyfriend at the time. While visiting at her apartment one evening, she placed a cassette in the stereo she had. It was by the Indigo Girls.



Back then, I was exclusively into country music, but something about these two dames and their silly folk music appealed to me, so it wasn't long before I bought the cassette myself.

A couple months ago, I was in the break room at work and saw that the Girls were gonna be in town in late April. I was not at all familiar with their music post 2002, but after thinking about it some, decided that I'd like to see them if I could get reasonably good seats. Tickets were to go on sale Friday morning, but I was working that day. What to do?

I noticed on Ticketmaster's website that there would be a special pre-sale for radio station listeners. I headed to the station's site and got the password. The pre-sale had been going on for about an hour already, but surely the seats still open would be better than what would be available on Friday. I was able to get a seat in the 9th row on the floor. Not bad. Being Ticketmaster, there were a shitload of fees, but hey, it's better than going downtown and getting them.

A couple years after I got into the Girls, I found out they were lesbians. Some chick in a college newspaper had mentioned this. For years, I thought they were a couple until I recently found out that they have other partners, not each other.

It was so nice to be going to a concert in town, no driving to the Minneapolis area. I knew there would be a lot of women at the show, probably some lesbians as well. As I prepared to enter the concert hall, I saw my old psychiatrist, Dr. Smick; she had started prescribing me happy pills in 1993, the same year that I first got into the Indigo Girls. This is what Carl Jung would call a synchronicity. I guess it pays to be a doctor as she had front row seats. I also noticed a lady in the front row who used to be a co-worker of mine. She said one day, a couple years ago, that she'd seen the Girls in the Twin Cities the night before. She was a repeat offender.

Overall, there were about 2 girls for every guy there. In the lobby, there was some kind of thing that one could sign up for to get a GLAAD-type publication. And, indeed, there were quite a number of gals who favored the fairer sex there. As the show progressed, a lady in front of me put her arm around the woman next to her. On my left, a young woman put her hands on the lap of the lady she'd come with. Whenever the Indigo's alluded to being gay, there was a cheer that came forth from the balcony as if to say, GirlPower!! (here's a link to illustrate what I'm talking about). This, I thought, is the way it should be, people expressing who they are and loving whomever they wish.

Who Wants To Be A Millionaire

I talked to a man last night who is of retirement age. He mentioned that he makes less than $25,000 a year. My first thought was, "Wouldn't it be nice if he had a little more money to have at his disposal in his twilight years?", but then realized that there are very few things that one truly needs to live a fulfilling life.



The person making $100,000 a year in their 60's may have a nicer bedroom set and a kick-ass TV, but I would think that, at that age, the most precious resource is time. Time to just put one's feet up, relax, maybe have a Cristal. Many of us spend a lot of time thinking of ways to maximize the amount of money we have saved for retirement, but regardless, we all have our social security money to fall back on, not to mention medicare for our health needs (U.S. residents only).

In our pre-retirement days, we seek to save as much as we can, but once we hit 65 or 67, do we still keep it up? Do we assume that we're going to make it to 85? There are many who pass mere months after they retire. How much do we want to risk leaving on the table? You gotta feel for the rich folks. There's something's wrong with a person dying with more than a million dollars to their name. They either forgot that you can't take it with you or thought they were gonna live forever.

How I Got Into Blogging

One afternoon, in the summer of 2006, I was hanging out at movie critic Harry Knowles' website Aint It Cool News. I'd been a faithful fan of his since the dawn of the millenium.



In one of his postings, he mentioned that his thoughts could also be found at a place called MySpace. Curious, I headed over there, but was a tad disheartened when I read that one must be a member in order to go to other members' sites (This may not be the case any longer).

Wanting to check HisSpace out, I answered a few questions and created MyOwnSpace (alright, I'll stop with the puns). Once a member, I read some of his material which was interesting, but certainly not earth-shaking. I then toyed with the thought of getting some mileage out of my own account, so posted some random thoughts on one of my favorite subjects, movies; in this particular instance, films that were being released that summer (you can read it here).

A day later, I wrote eight sentences about the wonders of the Sonicare toothbrush. I started a regular series in which I discussed my favorite movie of every year, starting with 1980. About a month later, I logged onto MySpace to post another probably movie-related entry and was surprised to find that my content had apparently been erased. Yikes! A few hours later, it was back, but a bit frightened by what had happened, I decided to migrate to a forum more conducive to blogging. Blogger.com more than fit the bill and I've been there ever since. My writing has certainly evolved over the years; I shudder at times to read some of my early posts.

One of the first entries to really make me aware of the therapeutic nature of writing and being able to share it with the world was called "Rollingstone", an account of a trip I took in the early aughts to the grade school I attended as a child (for the full entry, click here). Below are a couple of my favorite sections of it; the first dealing in humor, the second in pathos, two components which I continue to rely upon as we approach the halfway point of 2010.

"I walked into the old gym where I used to play M*A*S*H (dodgeball) and eat lunch from my "Empire Strikes Back" lunchbox. It was the damnest thing. The whole building seemed smaller to me. The school had shrunk over the past two decades. Yeah, right. Of course this was because when I attended the school, I was a bit shorter. Now having grown to my full height, everything seemed smaller when, in fact, it was me that had gotten bigger (in more ways than one, well, not really)."

"I headed back down the steps and left the building, a building where I had spent so many hours of my formative years. I took one last look, wistfully recalling those days that seem like a lifetime ago. I got into my car and headed back to my life in Rochester, a life that I quite enjoy, but please excuse me if sometimes I wish I could go back to where it all began, when everything was new, and happiness was going to follow me for the rest of my days."