Sleep

I woke up this morning in an extremely good mood. I dreamt that I had a conversation with a woman who I went to grade school with. It was very friendly and she wound up giving me a kiss on the cheek. Since I now had her trust, I confessed to something I did to her mother as a child (You can read about it here).

I also dreamt that I was given a lucrative job offer which involved entering statistics into a database and then having those entries printed in a nationwide newspaper. As I woke, a song I'd not heard in years was on my mind, Trisha Yearwood's "One Love".

Most mornings are like this for me; I don't have to get up early for my job. There are some who wish they could live without sleep, to be fully conscious twenty-four hours a day. I'm not one of them. Whatever hurts I experienced during the day are, in most cases, healed by morning. Any divisions, real or imagined, that may have showed up hours earlier have dissipated. This is why it's hard for me to fathom those who hold grudges for years. So much energy wasted and you're ultimately just hurting yourself.

It's not easy to stay in this meditative state upon waking. Once in the shower, thoughts come up and the rush of good feelings I'm experiencing post-sleep can quickly disappear. Because of this, it's important for one to be out of their mind as much as possible, even when making the sex. As I sit typing this, having taken a shower about 90 minutes ago, listening to some of my favorite songs on YouTube, with the sun shining in and the cat resting on a chair next to me, I am, without question, out of my mind. May it be the same with you.

Lordy Lordy

Next week, my beloved turns the Big 4-0; she's about 9 months older than me which means that I was conceived around the time she was born. It's nice being similar ages as we both grew up with the same music and TV shows. Course pretty much everybody born in the 70's grew up with the Brady Bunch, but still. Right now, she's watching season four of the early 70's program, "Emergency!" It was a forerunner to shows like "ER" and "Third Watch". I bought her season 5 for her birthday.

As we grow older, I wonder how long we'll live, what conditions we'll be afflicted with, what crosses we'll have to bear. It's pretty incredible when you think about it, that everybody dies. To the young, death seems a lifetime away, but eventually those lazy summers and cold winters turn into decades and you're well into middle age.

I read an article in TIME magazine recently about the Top 5 causes of death for each age group. For my age range (35-44), they are accidents, cancer, heart disease, suicide, and homicide. Ten years from now, when I am in my late 40's, the Top 5 things I could die from are cancer, heart disease, accidents, liver disease, and suicide. A person over 65's Top 5 is heart disease, cancer, stroke, respiratory diseases, and accidents a very distant fifth.

Whether I die from heart disease, cancer, or somebody twisting my balls off in a vice, it's gonna happen someday. Until then, there's not much I can do other than try to enjoy life and stay away from Industrial Arts classrooms.

How I Met My Wife

In July of 1996 (now a college graduate), I was single and not sure where to go next. Like many, I had trouble meeting people (read: eligible women). My mom suggested trying the personals. There was a public access show on TV that twice a day ran ads for singles searching for other singles. So I called their number, placed an ad, and gave my mom's phone number as a contact (I didn't have my own phone at the time).

A week later, I saw my ad on the telly. They had put my info in and titled it, "Sweet Sounds on the Radio". I checked every few days to see if I had any messages. One afternoon, I went to my mom's and noticed that I had a message. I played it back. The woman sounded nice. She left a pager number for me to call her back at. I tried the number and, after some confusion on how to do it, left a numeric page.

She called me back about 10 minutes later and explained that she was an orderly at the Gundersen Lutheran hospital in LaCrosse. Like me, she had also graduated from Winona State two months prior. We talked for a short while (she had to get back to work) and exchanged phone numbers.

We called each other several times over the next week, gradually getting to know each other. Turns out we only lived about 8 blocks from each other. We couldn't meet that first weekend because she had prior plans to see a friend in the Cities and go to a play ("Fiddler on the Roof") with her. We made tentative plans to meet at the Golden China restaurant (even though I didn't like Chinese) in Winona on Saturday, July 27th.

However, on Wednesday the 24th, I called her and asked about getting together that evening. She wasn't so sure, but did agree. We decided to meet at the Winona Information Center on Huff Street right next to Lake Winona. She told me what kind of car she would be driving, what she looked like, etc. so that I would know when I saw her. I got off the phone and rode my mountain bike to Huff.

I got there a bit early and sat down on a bench just outside of the Center. I was nervous, but definitely excited. I saw a car enter the parking lot like the one she described, a 93 Dodge Colt (which she continued to drive until late 2007). She got out of her car. I saw her. She saw me. She had a big smile on her face. She had these big Coke-bottle type glasses on her face, so it was hard to really see what she looked like. She sat down and asked if I wanted to go for a walk. We proceeded to walk around the smaller of Winona's 2 lakes.



She asked me lots of questions and when I would answer, she would say, "Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh". After our circuit around the lake, I was unsure what (if anything) we should do next. She suggested we go to the Acoustic Cafe. So she drove there while I biked. I had a lemonade while she had some type of sandwich. We continued to talk and afterwards outside, I gave her a hug. I wasn't sure what was to come with this young lady I had just met, but that meeting more than a decade ago turned out to be a major turning point in my life.

More Timeless Wisdom

Confucius say, a kiss is just shopping upstairs for downstairs merchandise.
Confucius say, killing two birds with one stone often ends with hate mail from the humane society.
Confucius say, to make a long story short, don't tell it.
Confucius say, a Platonic Relationship develops after two good friends get tired of screwing each other.
Confucius say, a politician is one who shakes your hand before elections and your confidence after.
Confucius say, a cigarette is a pinch of tobacco, wrapped in paper, fire at one end, fool at the other.
Confucius say, to get an Irishman to climb on the roof, tell him that the drinks are on the house.
Confucius say, the only thing divorce proves is whose mother was right in the first place.
Confucius say, a prostitute with a degree in psychology will blow your mind.
Confucius say, a tight dress is like a barbed fence. It protects the premises without restricting the view.
Confucius say, sex is the only activity where you start at the top and work your way to the bottom, while getting a rise.
Confucius say, marriage is like taking a bath... after you've been in it for a while, it isn't so hot.
Confucius say, man who look to stale cookie for advice probably make good busboy. Ask waitress for application.
Confucius say, girl who go on fishing trip with 6 men, come back with red snapper.
Confucius say, when TV repairman got married, the reception was excellent.
Confucius say, always yield to temptation, it may not pass your way again.
Confucius say, mother nature's best aphrodisiac is still a naked woman.
Confucius say, man who sink into woman's arms soon have arms in woman's sink.
Confucius say, basketball player who marry midget lady will be nuts over her.
Confucius say, an enemy is sometimes nothing more than a friend who got wise to you.
Confucius say, if you can't be content with what you have received, be thankful for what you have escaped.
Confucius say, when a man steals your wife, there is no better revenge than to let him keep her.

Happy Pills 2

After I couldn't deal with the side effects of the first two antidepressants I was put on, Dr. Smick put me on Paxil. Again, I was hopeful, but somewhat doubtful that it would work. I had read that some people do not respond to medication at all. That would suck, to be depressed indefinitely. Actually, in such cases, they would pursue something like Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT).

I continued to work on reversing my negative thoughts. I spent time with friends and was able to continue working in the kitchen at Sammy's Pizza. A coworker said he heard that I was experiencing depression and told me that he had gone through the same thing. He said that it was a real "bitch". He was able to get over it, however. It was around this time that he asked a lady that worked the morning shift if she would like to go out with him. She accepted and they eventually were married.

But, anyway, back to my shit. I was also put on Trazodone. During this time, it took me quite a long time to get to sleep. I would just keep thinking about things and not be able to drift off very easily. I remember the first evening I took Trazadone. About 20 minutes after ingesting it, I started to get really tired. I wanted to think about things as I usually do, but I was just too damn tired. I could definitely get used to this.

After a couple more weeks, I did start to feel the effects of the wonder drug, Paxil. It's hard to describe, but it really gave me a kick. I did things that I was way too depressed to do before like the dishes and cleaning the house. I became, what I liked to call, "blazingly optimistic". I wanted to experience life again. Laying in bed was no longer an option. I had been reborn. My Christian friend, Dean, was a bit dubious. He would've preferred that I got better the old-fashioned way, through suffering, through prayer,



without the meds. But he wasn't the boss of me. I did as I pleased and was well rewarded.

During the height of my depression, I had gone to the movie "Mrs Doubtfire" with my mom and her girls, but left about a half hour in because I was just too depressed to laugh (or maybe the movie just wasn't funny). I mosied on over to a screening room that was playing "A Perfect World", a ponderous movie starring Clint and Kevin.



One of the main characters was shot. It definitely suited my state of mind at the time. A few months later, now cured, I returned to "Doubtfire" and was able to get a few chuckles out of it (I still don't think it's super funny, though many people think it's the shit, including my wife).

I started going to my counseling appointments in a really good mood, almost too good a mood. My support network was quite happy to see that I had recovered. I eventually stopped going to CIA (Christians in Action). There were just too many things I wanted to explore now, such as going to the sinful Aquarius club in Rochester and slow dancing with a hot mama. Still being a virgin, I looked forward to "getting my freak on". Yes, indeed, my tropical depression had passed and I believe that I am a stronger person now due to the experience. Once you've been to hell, you really appreciate all the other realms. More than a dozen years later, all is well.

An Ounce Of You-Know-What

Two relatively young relatives of mine have cancer. Since the disease is typically thought of as something that strikes older folks, getting it at a younger age is usually viewed as tragic, something that shouldn't be happening. It will be a grand day if/when a cure is found.

In the meantime, what can one do to avoid being afflicted? If you want to limit your chances of a heart attack, get your cholesterol down and hit the treadmill while watching "Lost". Strike that, it's hard enough trying to make sense of the show while paying full attention to what's transpiring on screen. Last night's season premiere was fantastic. It dealt with a favorite subject of mine: alternate realities. It was something to see those who had spent so much time together on the island not know each other after they got off the plane which crashed in another reality, all the relationships that would never be.



Getting back to the thrust of this post, I was suprised to read a report today which says that 40 percent of cancers are preventable. Now, of course, one has a much better chance of avoiding lung cancer by not smoking, but being able to find ways to prevent breast and colon cancer from occuring? I'm in, well, at least for the colon portion.

For those who wish to reduce the likelihood of their getting the Big-C (sorry, Fay) and increase the likelihood of having a long life in this particular reality, here's what the report suggests: stop smoking (if you do), limit your alcohol consumption, avoid too much sun, and maintain a healthy weight through diet and exercise. It's almost too simple.

Happy Pills

I had to chuckle this afternoon when I brought in the mail after doing some snow shoveling. The cover of the latest Newsweek had the headline, "Antidepressants Don't Work". Just over three years ago, I wrote about my experience with the buggers. For those who weren't with me back then, here's the first part:

In the late spring of 1993, I was finally coming out of my shell and making friends. The man who started this was a chap named Dean. He was a member of CIA. No, not that one, you dirty devil. Christians In Action. We both attended Winona State at the time and were business majors. I lived off-campus in a house on East 3rd. He lived at Lourdes (how appropriate for a Christian) Hall.



It was a very old building with a lot of character. From time to time, I would get lost in their halls. There was much to do there, however. We played frisbee outside, walked around the neighborhood, and I once even ate at their cafeteria, which reminded me of a monastery (not surprisingly, it once was). I also got to know a friend of Dean's named Candy and spent some time with her as well. I had friends now, but still wasn't happy. How could this be? I gradually became more and more depressed.

It's hard to describe depression to someone who hasn't experienced it. It's not something that you can "snap out of". It's like telling someone with diabetes to "get over it". No matter what I did, no matter where I went, I was in emotional agony. All I wanted to do was stay in bed, in a fetal position, no less. If I couldn't be happy, what point was there in living? Dean encouraged me to pray which I did, but I still couldn't seem to get out of the shitter. I talked to my mom about what was going on. She suggested I see a counselor. I agreed. After all, this was something I could no longer handle on my own.

I was seen at the local mental health center. They were located in downtown Winona, just a couple blocks from the mighty Mississip. I saw a nice lady there and talked about many things. My childhood, my time in college, the passing of my grandmother just a few months before. She encouraged me to get counseling regularly and that it probably wouldn't hurt to go on an antidepressant. In order to do this, I would need to see a psychiatrist. I was referred to Dr. Smick. She worked at Parkview Behavioral Health Systems (located just adjacent to the hospital). She did my intake and said there were several meds available for depression. She decided to put me on a more old-school one called Desipramine.

Smick told me it would take several weeks for me to feel the full effects. I didn't feel like waiting, but if it could improve my mood, I guess I could hold out. I started the meds, but there were problems right away. One of the main side effects of desipramine is difficulty urinating. That was something I tried to deal with, but couldn't. So a week or so later, I was put on a more recently discovered antidep, Zoloft. I lived right across the street from Goltz Pharmacy, so had no problem getting my fix, I mean, pills. My friends knew I was getting professional help and were quite supportive. I called my mom most every day to let her know how I was doing. She had recently separated from her 2nd husband and was sharing custody of their twin girls, who were just 5 years old at the time. I went to Winona's book store and found a book that helped me deal with the negative thinking that had begun to consume me.

The Zoloft was better than the Desipramine, but not by much. I seemed to constantly have headaches while on it. Smick had told me to be patient, that one of the meds should be able to give me the kick I needed, but, thus far, it just felt like I was treading water.

Timeless Wisdom

Any regular reader of this weblog knows that I am a fan of Eastern philosophy. It offers a more complete picture of how to deal with life than just relying on the Western bits. In that vein, here are some quotes from a man who lived in China twenty-five hundred years ago, Confucius.



I posted a version of this almost three years ago, but have since added twenty new ones for those who have read it before (this means you, Rocket):

Confucius say, he who hesitates is probably right.
Confucius say, war not determine who right, war determine who left.
Confucius say, virginity like bubble. One prick - all gone.
Confucius say, baseball wrong, man with four balls not able to walk.
Confucius say, man who fight with wife all day, get no piece at night.
Confucius say, it takes many nails to build crib, one screw to fill it.
Confucius say, passionate kiss like spider web, soon lead to undoing of fly.
Confucius say, man with hand in pocket feel cocky all day long.
Confucius say, squirrel who runs up woman's leg not find nuts.
Confucius say, man with tight trousers is pressing his luck.
Confucius say, do not drink and park, accidents cause people.
Confucius say, man who run through airport turnstile backward going to Bangkok.
Confucius say, man who live in glass house, should change in basement.
Confucius say, man who fart in church, sit in own pew.
Confucius say, man who masturbate, only screwing himself.
Confucius say, man with hand in pocket all day not crazy, just feeling nuts.
Confucius say, man who have last laugh, not get joke.
Confucius say, early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy...but a social loser.
Confucius say, a Rubix cube is like a penis, the longer you play with it, the harder it gets.
Confucius say, a woman can humiliate any man by simply saying "Hold my purse."
Confucius say, the useless skin around a penis is called "a man".
Confucius say, a vagina is like a very small hotel. One must leave his bag outside.
Confucius say, man who mix Viagra and Ex-Lax doesn't know if he's coming or going.
Confucius say, a smile is like tight underwear...it makes your cheeks go up.
Confucius say, marriage is like a bank account. You put it in, you take it out, you lose interest.
Confucius say, at a nudist wedding, you don't have to ask - you can see who the best man is.
Confucius say, men are like spray paint, one squeeze and they're all over you.
Confucius say, gynecologist and pizza delivery man are very much alike...both get to smell the goods, but neither one can eat it.
Confucius say, Viagra is like Disneyland...a one hour wait for a 2-minute ride.
Confucius say, woman who fall in love with elevator operator, usually get the shaft.
Confucius say, blondes have more fun because they are easier to amuse.
Confucius say, whether or not sex is better than pot, depends on the pusher.
Confucius say, blowing into a blonde's ear is called Data transfer.
Confucius say, men are like cement...after getting laid, they take a long time to get hard.
Confucius say, oral sex makes one's day, but anal sex makes one's hole weak.
Confucius say, dog may be man's best friend, but pussy not far behind.
Confucius say, Christmas trees are like priests...their balls are just for decoration.

McNasty

Yesterday afternoon, while my wife was at an AAA meeting, I stuck my nose into the library's used book store. I only had about ten minutes to look around as they were about to close. One interesting work I saw there was John McEnroe's biography, "You Cannot Be Serious". I chuckled when I read the book's title; I remember many years ago seeing a clip of him saying those four words to a line judge.



I wanted to get the book, but $8 is higher than I wanted to go.

Still having a half hour to kill, I went into the library proper. I hadn't checked out a book in years. If there's a book I really want, I'll just buy it; I don't like the idea of having to return it after a few weeks. Nonetheless, I wouldn't mind reading the McEnroe book for free if they had it there.

I headed to the sports section, then to the tennis section, then to the biography tennis section. Whew. They did have a copy, but I didn't have my card. I asked a male librarian if it was possible for me to check out books with just my ID. He said it was and I found one other bio I was interested in reading: Maureen McCormick's "Here's The Story".

Interesting fact: Both Mc and I were born at the Air Force Base in Wiesbaden, Germany.

On my way out, I saw a kid playing a video game at a computer station. I wanted to tell him he wasn't supposed to be doing that, but it was his own personal laptop. You wanna know what kind of games I played on my lap as a child in the early 80's? Check it out:

Think Fast

Continuing my observations of Eckhart Tolle's newest book, he writes that "most people are so distracted by their thoughts, so identified with the voices in their heads" that they'll do virtually anything to get away from them. Some such activities include drug-induced highs, sensory overstimulation such as excessively loud music, thrills or dangerous activities, or an obsession with sex.

I think one of the reasons I like movies so much is because they get me out of my head. In fact, I get a bit PO'd when they don't. A couple weeks ago, I went to "The Lovely Bones" and was distracted about 20 minutes into it by thoughts of errands I needed to run. While a part of me was obsessing, another was saying, "Shut up. I'm trying to watch a movie."

In my recent post on pleasures, Randy commented that "I need to veg out at the end of the day and will watch lousy sitcoms so that I don't have to think". Now there's a guy who understands why he does what he does. Could it be that we enjoy the things we do, not necessarily because of what they give us, but what they give us a break from?

Grandma's Boy

My favorite grandparent in this lifetime was my dad's mother. Her name was Ruth. Her husband passed when I was 4, so I don't have many memories of him (the only one I can recall is being with him and my family in a blue pickup truck that had a camper attached to it). She lived at 1924 W 5th Street in Winona. Her house was painted light green and was located at the city limits of Winona (a green sign on the street in front of her house said "Winona" along with another sign that said Winona was an "All-America" city whatever that means).

It seems that almost every time we went there as children, Grandma always wanted to get us "washed up". This consisted of sitting on her kitchen sink while she cleaned our face and hands with a washcloth. It wasn't too unpleasant, however. She also did the same for our redheaded cousin.

She had more than an acre and a half of land. Needless to say, getting the lawn mowed was a job that took all day. Usually my uncle would handle those duties. I sometimes liked to climb partway up a supertall pine tree that was in the backyard. About 4 blocks away was a small grocery store called B&B. I remember one afternoon my sister walked with my brother to the store (she was about 8, he around 5). On their way there, they passed a house that had a small statue of a polar bear in its yard. My brother got a little scared. My sister told him that it wasn't a real bear. In the same yard, he said he saw a snake in the grass and started to freak out. She told him that it was simply a garden hose and all was well.

Grandma typically stocked the same foods in her kitchen. Her grilled cheese sandwiches were the bomb. She almost always had some Welch's grape juice on hand as well as Keebler's Fudge Stripes.

My grandma was also one of the first people I knew who had a remote control for her telly. It was pretty primitive, though (It only had 4 buttons on it). I watched several Super Bowls at her place along with my uncle, including number 23. That was the one where Joe Montana of the Niners came back against the Bengals in the final minutes of the game.

My favorite memories are when I would stay overnight at her house. As opposed to when I was at home, when I stayed at Grandma's, it was all about me. One of my parents would drop me off at her place on a Friday night. She would make something for us to eat for supper. We might watch a little TV. If it was nice out, we would go on her porch, gaze out at west 5th and talk about life. I would usually hit the hay at around the time that the Tonight Show was starting.



I slept in the bedroom while Grandma slept on the couch. One night, I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. Grandma said she found me trying to get out the back door. Being half asleep, I thought it was the bathroom door. Grandma told me I had the wrong door and guided me to the loo. It was great getting up in the morning and having some toast and OJ. Waking up to quietness was not something I was used to. In the afternoon, we would walk over to JCPenney and she would usually buy me something that I wanted. One time, I chose this:



We would relax at her place the rest of the afternoon. One of my parents would pick me up in the early evening and we'd head back to the rolling hills of Rollingstone, Minnesota.

Pleasure Island

There are three main pleasures I look forward to these days: eating, sex, and watching telly. Which do I enjoy the most? I think it might actually be eating as last night I was fantasizing about how good it was gonna be to go to the pizza buffet tonight. Eating at home is nice, but munching on thin crust pepperoni pizza and dessert sticks with a Cherry Coke nearby is ecstacy. I've had to be more cognizant lately about taking my time eating at the pizza place in order to prolong the pleasure (this strategy can also be applied with sex).

I only watch TV shows that I am genuinely interested in. I feel better lying in bed in a fetal position than watching something on TV that's not doing anything for me. My favorite programs to watch are Ghost Hunters (the only really compelling part is when they show the client the evidence they caught), Modern Family, Inside the NFL, Community, The Office, 30 Rock, Lost, The Amazing Race, and Big Love.

I'm also thankful for a number of smaller pleasures: taking a long bath while reading a good book, hanging out with the cat and dog, and a not-inconsiderable bowel movement.

Guess What?

Yesterday morning, having some time to kill, I went to a number of stores. I've been on a bit of a book kick lately, but don't like paying full price, so checked out the selection at a couple "gently-used" stores. At Salvation Army, I found an Oprah Book Club selection by Eckhart Tolle called "A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life's Purpose" (I love how the book cover matches my template).

Though the cover price was $14.00, SA was selling it for $1.00. Though there were a number of passages that I skimmed because they didn't really interest me, there were a number of bits that got me thinking. Here's one:

"You are about to tell someone the news of something that recently happened. "Guess what? You don't know yet? Let me tell you." If you are alert enough, present enough, you may be able to detect a momentary sense of satisfaction within yourself just before imparting the news, even if it is bad news. It is due to the fact that for a brief moment there is, in the eyes of the ego, an imbalance in your favor between you and the other person. For that brief moment, you know more than the other. The satisfaction that you feel is of the ego, and it is derived from feeling a stronger sense of self relative to the other person. Even if he or she is the president or the pope, you feel superior in that moment because you know more. Many people are addicted to gossiping partly for this reason. In addition, gossiping often carries an element of malicious criticism and judgement of others, and so it also strengthens the ego through the implied but imagined moral superiority that is there whenever you apply a negative judgment to anyone."

This passage makes clear the appeal of talking trash about someone else, something I rarely do. Could it be that our parents were right when they said, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all." I'm not saying that we shouldn't tell others if they are doing things that are bothering us (the co-worker who 86's every new idea you have, the parent who never calls, the partner who never wants to have sex during the day), just that it's hard to see the point of saying something about others that you wouldn't say to their face. In conversation, I like to ask others how THEY are feeling, how life is going for them, not what's going on with so-and-so.

Saturday, March 6, 1993

It was a cold morning. I woke up at about 7 o'clock knowing that this was the day I had been waiting for. I showered and wondered if by nightfall I really would be hundreds of miles away from here. I packed my suitcase. I had no time the night before because I had worked late at Sammy's. But I was ready to go this morning.

Just two days before I had received the news that my grandmother, Ruth, had died due to complications that occured shortly after she had a heart attack. I guess it just hadn't hit me. I hadn't spent much time with her lately. Since this trip was already set up, I wouldn't be able to attend the funeral which, in some respects, was good. I could just remember her the way she was when me and Mike and Brian went up there on our way to Valley Oaks on Monday night. That was just before Mom moved into her own place. Things change, but I realized that grandma didn't deserve to be pent-up in that little apartment with hardly anything to do. She is now free to do anything she wants, including, of course, reuniting with her husband who passed 18 years prior.

I waited downstairs with my suitcase ready to depart. My stepdad, Phil, picked me up at about 9am. I put my suitcase in back and hopped into the front seat of his company car and headed off to LaCrosse. He told me about the breakup of him and my mother, which I, of course, was aware of. He said he might be a bit distant and introspective during the trip. I understood.

I was going to Florida for the first time. I had a bit of a cold, but it was basically just an on-again, off-again runny nose. We arrived at the Lax airport. It was about twenty degrees outside with snow on the ground . We checked our baggage and boarded the plane. I can't remember much of that flight from LaCrosse to Minneapolis, just that it was only about 40 minutes long and over quickly. I hadn't been on a plane since about 1986 when Phil and Mom took me with them to California for a few days.

At the Minneapolis airport, I ate at McDonalds. This Micky D's actually served pizza, but I chose chicken nuggets while Phil got something from Pizza Hut. After an hour and a half layover, it was time to go. The flight to West Palm Beach would be around three hours. The plane took off. I listened to headphones part of the way, had a little something to eat. We were in first class which wasn't bad.

As we got further south, I saw that there wasn't any snow on the ground and that brought a smile to my face. We flew over Nashville and soon were in Florida. There were a lot of smiling people on the plane as we landed in sunny West Palm Beach in the late afternoon. I was feeling a little groggy, so I picked up some aspirin at an airport store around the time that we got our baggage. The airport was fantastic. It had beautiful, light-colored carpeting and everyone seemed to be wearing short-sleeves and bright colors. We got a car rental. It was around 75 degrees and the sun was starting to set as we headed to the Holiday Inn Oceanfront Resort where we would be staying at. I rolled down the window and was glad that I had come.

We got the hotel room and then Phil showed me the Atlantic Ocean. It was a sight to see as it began to get dark. Then he took me to Burger King to pick something up because he was going out with an associate he knew that evening. I didn't mind. I was looking forward to just sitting back and thinking. He left. I took a bath and thought about what I had left behind. I watched a little TV and then went out on the balcony. I sat down and wistfully looked out at the mighty ocean.

It was hard to believe that I was in West Palm Beach, Florida on a Saturday night looking out at the Atlantic. But it was true. I thought about the upcoming funeral that my family was preparing for. I thought about Sammy's and school. I thought about the future and looked ahead to this summer when I can enjoy the outdoors again. It was so great to sit outside and not need a jacket or winter coat. I went back inside and watched some of the Dennis Quaid-Meg Ryan-Martin Short movie, "Innerspace".

Phil said that Walt Disney World-Magic Kingdom was the ticket for tomorrow and, of course, we already had tickets to the split-squad Twins-Rangers game the day after tomorrow. We wouldn't be leaving Florida for another 4 days, so there would be plenty of time to enjoy the sights and sounds of the state. Phil got back late and went to bed. I watched a little more TV and then did the same. It was hard to sleep thinking about the Magic Kingdom. But I finally did get to sleep. I couldn't wait to wake up and head off to our next destination: Orlando, Florida!

(typed into a computer at Winona State University in the spring of 1993)

Wipe That Smile Off Your Face

An recent article in New York magazine gives 50 Steps to Simple Happiness.

Here are the ones that resonated the most with me:

Make your bed. Go figure, but outer order contributes to inner calm.

Leave your mouth in that slightly upturned position it takes after saying ‘Cheez Whiz.’ It’s a relaxed, confident look that will convince other people you know what you’re doing.

Collect visual memories of moments when you were incredibly happy, and close your eyes and picture them when you need a boost. The mind needs images to access feelings.

Carry yourself more erect. Poor posture is a self-fulfilling prophecy of gloom. You can improve your outlook and confidence simply by improving your posture.

Never clean your plate at a restaurant. New Yorkers eat out more than anyone, but they can choose to eat less.

Think like a shark, act like a 5-year-old. Our bodies are meant to be in motion. Don’t stay in the same position for more than 30 minutes at a time.

Surround yourself with things that smell like green apple or cucumber, two scents that have been proved to reduce anxiety and boost mood. Candles, shampoo, lotion—anything.

A Visit to the Dentist

For the past couple nights, I've felt a pain on the upper left side of my mouth while eating in the bathroom. Last night, I came to the conclusion that it was emanating from my gums, not my teeth. I considered that good as work on cavities and other teeth-related issues can be quite expensive, time consuming and, oh yeah, painful. But what if it's gum disease? Dammit, I knew I should've flossed more than once a week (I took Zoe to the vet last week and he said I should try brushing her teeth daily or at least every other day as opposed to weekly).

So it was with a somewhat heavy heart that I called the dentist yesterday morning. It typically takes a month to get in, but I could always ask to be called if a cancellation comes up. The receptionist said I could actually get in this morning. Joy. No, I might as well get it taken care of ASAP. Besides, I would be getting my monthly 90-minute massage the following day, so that would be a happy ending to the week, so to speak.

We got about 4 inches of snow last night (Believe me, I know all about 4 inches), so I started up the snow blower early this morning and blew the driveway. I wear earplugs when doing so as what's the point of killing my eardrums over a random blow job? I left plenty early to allow time to get there and while waiting in the reception area, perused a Sports Illustrated magazine that was three months old (beggars can't be choosy in medical waiting areas).

As I mentioned in a post a couple years ago, I close my eyes when the hygienist is cleaning my teeth as what's the point in having them open, to look at the pretty bright light? I was quite relaxed during the appointment; I sometimes tense up during this time. An interesting thing occurred as I listened to the music that was being piped in: as each song played, a memory came to mind, a memory associated with that song.

"Against All Odds" by Phil Collins took me back to Mrs. Suchla's junior-high Foods Class and specifically an afternoon where parents were allowed to help cook a meal with their progeny (I hadn't recalled that specific memory in many, many years). Gloria Estefan's "Don't Wanna Lose You Now" reminded me of my first year in college when both my mom and I were attending Winona State University. Celine Dion's "Because You Loved Me" brought to mind the time when I was first starting out with my wife-to-be (1996).

The hygienist did an exam on my gums in which she gave each a number based on how inflamed they were. She said mine weren't that bad considering, but to make sure that I floss daily from here on out, something I seriously plan to do this time. So it turned out that my problem isn't as severe as I thought and, once again, I have to ask, How in the hell am I ever supposed to learn anything without experiencing any kind of major health issues? I've never broken a limb, ne'er stayed overnight in a hospital (except when I was visiting my wife). Perhaps I'll feel better tonight, thinking of the alternate universe in which I have gum disease and a five-inch schlong.

Eating In A Virtually Empty Restaurant

I went to my favorite pizza buffet this evening (all the pizza, pop, spaghetti, and salad you want for $8).



There was only one other party there while I ate. As I was getting dessert sticks, one of the members of the other party mentioned how surprised he was at the lack of people there. I said, "Well, that's more for us" (though all I ever really eat is some thin crust pizza and a few of the aforementioned sticks).

One possible reason for the restaurant being relatively barren is the cold, but that doesn't typically stop people from going out up here. Perhaps it is because on the 4th of the year, people are still trying to keep their New Year's resolutions which typically include things like staying away from fatty foods and buffets. I don't doubt that in a few weeks, on a Monday like tonight, they'll be quite a few more people ingesting as their good intentions give in to the temptation of a Deep Dish Meat Lover's pie.

I've always had a problem with people saying they're going to start a diet next Monday or the first of the month. If something is worth doing, why wait? It reminds me of the Saint Augustine quote, "Give me chastity and continence, but not yet!" If I'm looking to get healthier, there's no reason to put it off. Typically, once you start doing something, the desire to continue it will show up. Waiting around for motivation to strike is typically a losing game.

New Years Day 2009

One year ago today, my wife and I were on the last day of a 6-day stay in Ashland, Oregon. I started up a blog to write about it last January, but only just finished it a few days ago. Yeesh!

For those who care to check it out, go here.



Some of the highlights included my wife getting frisked, staying in a hotel straight out of the 1920's, and being asleep as 2008 turned to '09. A Brit who read the account called me "garrulous", a word I had to look up as I didn't know the meaning of it.

Wishing you all the best for '10!!

New Millenium, Baby

I've written about how much I adore the movies of 1999 here, here, and here. I've also discussed the job I was working as 1999 gave way to 2000. But it's the music from that time which takes me there most forcefully. Before I elaborate, let me just share a bit of what was going on in my life at that time.

My wife and I were getting ready to move into our first house. We had rented apartments for the prior 3 years and after paying more than $700 rent for quite some time, realized that having our own home was a win, win (other than having to mow the lawn, shovel snow, and living several minutes out of town as opposed to within city limits). Our apartment was just 3 blocks from Saint Mary Hospital, so we constantly heard ambulances and police sirens.

Getting a yard for our dogs and cat was a big move-up as was having a garage for both our transports. We had requested that the home be built with vaulted ceilings, but the builder messed up and didn't do so. Since they wouldn't redo the ceilings, we either had to accept the standard one with a $500 credit or wait several months for another home to be built. We decided to take the credit and ended up moving into our place in January of 2000.

For our first few months there, we were the only ones on the block. In fact, they hadn't even put a streetlight on our block yet. Since the basement was mostly unfinished, we actually had less space to live in than we did in the prior apartment. Living a few miles out of town made me less inclined to want to go out in the evenings. However, I did love the quiet and quickly became used to the "commute".

As '99 drew to a close, a friend of mine and his wife began stockpiling supplies, worried that either all the world's computers would fail or that the world would come to an end. He was pleasantly surprised that nothing happened. I shook my head, never giving much credence to the hype in the first place.

Now, on to three songs that really take me back to those days. The first has Timbaland uttering the name of this post at the end of the song, the second song's video revolves around a party that is taking place on New Year's Eve 1999,

and the third is a late-night tune whose video surprised me in that it shows the use of text messaging (I had no idea it existed back then).

Christmas Time Is Here

I finally finished my Christmas shopping yesterday. Who wants to touch me?

I said, Who wants to touch me?!!

Kmart came to the rescue with a number of Buy 1, Get 1 Free specials. While I was looking for presents for my mom and her girls, my woman spotted something she liked. A few minutes later, heading in another direction, she asked if she could buy the item in question. I said we couldn't afford it, but then picked it up a few minutes later when she went to another store. She made it almost too easy.

One thing I've noted, doing a lot of shopping this season, is the look of not-quite-bliss on so many faces. It's like they don't realize that this is the most wonderful time of the year. Sure, most days are cloudy, there's too much snow on the ground, and the nights are incredibly long, but is it not the Chosen One's big day on Friday?

I think that many resent being slaves to the holiday, having to spend money they don't have on things that their family and friends might not even like. You'll find none of this ridiculousness on Thanksgiving. The joy is in simply being together. Being compelled to give gifts four weeks later doesn't make a lot of sense to me. Sure, I'll like getting Lady Gaga's new EP and a Friday's gift card, but does that compare with making someone smile or laugh? Not even close.

As I waited to get checked out at Kmart, I heard the cashier say to the couple ahead of me, "Would you like to donate $1 to St Jude's?" They said no, but I got an idea. Here is how my conversation with her went:

Cashier: "Would you like to donate $1 to St Jude's?"

Tom: "If you can say, "Suzy sells seashells by the seashore."

Cashier: "I can't do that!"

Tom: "Well, I'll donate the buck, anyway."

I did something similar at the movie theatre earlier this year. A lady was asking people, when they bought their ticket, what their ZIP code was. When she asked me, I said, "12345". Two seconds later, she said "Refusal" to herself and punched a couple buttons.

I got a nice gag gift for my twin sisters. They're 21 now, but I bought them each a RingPop (something they enjoyed as 5-year olds). I may also purchase some Fruit by the Foot; back then, they called it Pruit by the Poot. So cute.

Click here for video of our 2005 get-together.