Dave's on a rant again

America, I hardly recognize ye.

This is a great country, and what I am about to say takes nothing away from that. I love her with all my heart. It is why I'm writing this in the first place.

Six hundred eighty billion dollars. 680,000,000,000.00. Two-thirds of a TRILLION dollars.

That's a running total, including projected budget for 2008, of what we have spent in Iraq. A country which was attacked preemptively because we thought maybe they were building a stockpile of weapons of mass destruction.

We thought. Maybe.

We had satellite photos of something that might be the weapons. We had hearsay, we had conjecture. We had "intelligence."

So we attacked a sovereign nation, dethroned a brutal dictator, and made a mess that won't be cleaned up anytime soon.

Why? Since when have we become a nation of preemptive attacks? It's never been our M-O. Did 9/11 really change our approach that much? If so, the terrorists have already won.

Further, we decided that, since the hijackers on 9/11 operated within our country, trained and planned their attack, moved about freely, undetected, that we needed to be able to tap the telephones and intercept emails, without a warrant, of citizens who we think are conducting themselves in a suspicious manner.

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing to hide, read my email all you want. (you might want to avoid the stuff from my friend Ada) But gosh, doesn't this all seem less free to you? Don't you have a problem with any of this?

"They hate us for our freedom." That's insulting, simplistic bullshit... but apparently someone believes it, because the current administration is slowly removing the reason for the hatred.

And now, the sabres are rattling all over again, as congress approved a bill that asks the administration to use "all means" to contain Iran's influence on Iraq.

Iran has 65 MILLION people.

America undoubtedly has the most advanced, skilled and technologically superior military in the world. I am proud of our soldiers and their skill and dedication. God have mercy on the country that ever tries to take us on. The problem is, the "war" on terror can't be fought with military might. We're going into a knife fight armed with a tank.

The president of Iran was invited to speak at Columbia University. Why? I can't imagine giving this guy a pulpit, it seems silly to me. But why do we fear him? Isn't freedom of speech what we're all about? Give the man some rope... he'll hang himself. But instead, congress spent its valuable time hand-wringing over it, instead of doing the work of the people.

What else has congress done recently? Passed a resolution condemning moveon.org for the "General Betray Us" ad in the NY Times... and they are now trying to pass a resolution condemning Rush Limbaugh for his "phony soldiers" miscue.

Guess what - get the hell back to work! It's NOT your job to worry about what is being said by the citizens of a nation that is supposed to have freeh speech. Instead, DO YOUR JOB.

Congress has an approval rating of 11 percent, yet continues to plod clumsily forward. We have citizens who have no insurance and no prospects of medical care, if needed. We have a huge education problem. Our borders are as loose as Paris Hilton. We HAVE Paris Hilton.

Yet we're foolishly on the way to spending a trillion dollars on a war that cannot be won... and if you say that aloud, you're considered a traitor.

The apathy of the citizenry is pathetic. As long as the economy is "good," as long as we can shop, continue receiving reality television and play our video games... we're all good. My grandpa would be embarrassed.

I'M embarrassed.

Where is the America I know? Where is the wisdom? Where is the leadership? Where is the pride, the dignity?

Sometimes I don't even recognize this place anymore.

Ten things about Dave (because I am mentally comatose right now)

And, since this post contains only nine things, the title is very misleading. Deal with it.

• I have a problem with restaurants who advertise that they feature "home-cooking." Unless someone lives in that restaurant, it's total bullshit.
• When I get the first dent on a new car, I lapse into a fairly deep depression for about 12 hours. My new car has no dents - however, it has one of those really low front spoilers that hits the ground when I pull into a driveway with a slope. Although the resulting scratches are out of view under the car, I am still affected. Not full-blown depression, but I find a sad song on the radio and mope a little.
• Recently, I've taken a stand against those smiley :) and sad face :( thingies. They are to writing as cheerleaders are to a chess match.
• I hate the concept of "average." Lately I've begun using it as an excuse. "Hey, at least I'm average." Through most of my life I considered myself above-average at everything. The slow realization that I am not... has been a fairly crushing experience. In fact, I am actually below average at golf and sex.* (this would be a great place for one of those sad face thingies, but I've taken a stand against them)
• I love early mornings when the sky is just starting to lighten. It's a really refreshing time of day. (unless you're driving home... that's hardly ever good) As I write this, it is exactly that time of day.
• I am a victim of the Curse of the Frontloader. Which means things seldom make it back to the garage where they belong. Instead, they end up in the laundry room on top of the washing machine. You people with normal top-loading washers probably have tidy laundry rooms. Jerks.
• A lot of the fun in life is lost simply maintaining. It's almost a full-time job to keep clothes clean. It takes a lot of time to cook meals. We work hard just to stay where we are. I resent this... especially during football season.
• I love country music. Most of it is very earthy and simple. Listen to "Sunday Morning Comin' Down" by Johnny Cash or "Better Man" by Clint Black and you'll know what I'm talking about. "Late Night Grande Hotel" by Nancy Griffith. "Go Down Easy" by Fogelberg. "Chisled In Stone" from Vern Gosdin. Pure gold.
• I also love jazz. I go through classical phases. I love rock & roll. I admire barbershop quartet singers, but can't stand to listen for long. I categorize rap as poetry. And bad poetry, at that.

Later.

*EDIT: Em said I have to add something to this post. She says it makes her uncomfortable that I say I am below average at sex. Apparently she thinks it's untrue - apparently, I'm quite the maverick. (*cocky sniff*)

Tangerine flashlight

We've been busily narrowing down our list of names for the new baby. The trouble is, we've eliminated a lot of possibilities. To wit:

• The names of all people we've dated or been married to.
• Names of Em's really irritating students.
• All my past pets. (Pecos, Sassy, Regis, Sparky, Kramer, Grab-ass)
• The odd names. (Hunter, Levi, Kodiak, Buford)
• All colors. (Violet, Fucia, Rose, Chartreuse, etc.)
• Weather terms. (Sunny, Rayney, Wendy, Updraft, Coldfront)
• All the months. (April, June, May, October)
• The name Mike.

I've also been making a list of names that would be easily taunted on the playground, or that rhyme with naughty words. So the chances are slim that we will be naming our child:

• Peter
• Paul (ball)
• Richard (duh)
• Delores
• Chuck
• Maryola
• Rock (or Brock, or Jock)
• Deaver (or Weaver)
• Venus
• Moobie
• Rick
• Festicle

So it's down to either Phillipe or Sue.

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On my last post, you may have gotten the impression I was under the influence. Actually, the only crack I was exposed to was the crack of dawn. I guess you write some really goofy shit when the sleeping meds start kicking in.

At least I didn't impart upon you my theory about each atom being its own universe.

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Tonight, Ella's spending the night with Uncle Dave and Aunt Emily. She has been a great visitor. We played with my computer, where she stumbled across a few new mathematical parodoxes, studied the properties of a mobius strip and discussed Mahavira's theorem on a college message board. She's still a rookie, but learning fast.

While she was doing that, I was making her Winnie the Pooh toy hump her Tigger toy. We all have our comfort zones.

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I went to a Cardinals game with a few guys last night. We lost EIGHTEEN to ONE. The Astros basically took batting practice.

Next time this particular group of guys are together, I'm going to propose a drinking game. Every time Ada (an Englishman) makes a reference to the game of soccer, we all drink. When I check email on my phone, we drink. When Scuba Steve plays air guitar, we drink. When Cornett... uh, drinks, we all drink.

We'll need a designated driver, I'll tell you that right now.

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I hacked my iPhone and added a ton of useful programs. Included, the game of Yahtzee, and something called "Pig Shooter," a game where you shoot spaceships with flying pigs. For the intellectual in all of us.

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The weekend is ON, bitches! Have a great one.

Lex parsimoniae; fear the marmosets*

Consider only what is necessary to reach a valid conclusion.

Occam's Razor is a neat principle that drives my philosophy. All things being equal, the simplest solution tends to be correct. Not always, but usually.

For instance - Alan Greenspan appeared on the Today show and proclaimed that the Iraq war was about oil. Gasp! How dare he? It's really about peace in the middle-east. Democracy. Ridding the area of weapons of mass destruction!

Nope... it's really about oil. It sounds cold and impersonal, but it's true. If there were no oil in the middle east, we'd have little interest in the area. That's fine... hey, at least we have a reason for spending 200 million dollars a day on the war.

But let's call it what it is. It was an impressive moment of clarity and Occam's Razor. It's about oil.

Of course, Greenspan had to come back the next day and change his story. He was apparently misunderstood. The war isn't about oil, it's about peace in the middle-east. Democracy. Yada yada. Sounds like he got a phone call. (PS - I'm all for replacing fossil fuels with renewable forms of energy, the sooner the better, then packing our bags and heading to the Baghdad airport)

You know, if we don't start admitting some things, we stand to lose everything. If we don't start being honest with ourselves, shunning political correctness, we'll lose the opportunity. It's time to have a dialogue and be reminded what mankind is really about, lest we lose the thread and this beautiful sweater becomes a pile of errant textile.

So what is the purpose of mankind? Bottom line, what is your body built for? Creating art? Entertaining each other? Dancing? Hunt/gathering?

As unseemly as it sounds, propagation is our primary function. It's really very simple - nature cares only that it continues. We make babies. We replace ourselves, hopefully in larger numbers and with better features. That is what nature insists upon. Everything we do, by her standards, should be toward the advancement of the species.

When a species begins to lose focus, to forget their function, they fail. It's happened to countless species over millenia. Humans may be on the verge of that, I think.

I forget where I saw a study recently, but it found that the most intelligent among us aren't having kids. Higher IQ people have decided, for whatever reason, they are not interested. (Until recently, I felt that way too) Meanwhile, more and more people are coming out of the closet.

These types of abnormal behavior can't bode well for the future of the species, can they?

It's strange how, out of political correctness, we bury the concept of "normal" and "abnormal." From nature's perspective, (and oh, can she be a bitch) anything that we do which doesn't contribute to, or worse, detracts from the propogation of the species, is destructive. Abnormal.

Don't get me wrong, I believe every human being has the same right to do and be what they wish. I detest haters. If more people are choosing not to have children, that's fine. If more are coming out of the closet, that's just great. I celebrate their new-found happiness!

But nature is simple. It's all about making it to tomorrow. If some of our smartest people are discovering they aren't interested in propogating, and we reach a tipping point where those who are interested can't produce enough quality offspring to replace themselves AND the others... it doesn't take a scientist to figure out we're on a risky path.

Russia had a country-wide day off recently. Instructions were to stay home with your significant other and make babies. Russia loses 700,000 people annually because they aren't replacing their population. Maybe they are worried about the trend, too.

Same thing in Japan. People are working too much, and having intercourse too little.

If the trends continue and smart and gay people stop having children - abnormalcy in nature will exist. The dominant species may become the marmosets.

Fear the marmosets, always. But at least they know when it's time to copulate.

*a prolific lack of sleep has precipitated this entire post. As I speak, I can barely type what I'm thinking. It's 5 am and I have to get back to bed.

"Ffff-uuuuhh-cccck" says the caterpillar

I am a bad blogger.

Although, if you'd seen my office/recording studio recently, you'd recognize how much progress these photos show. In other words, I actually have an excuse for not blogging lately.

I've been filing papers, hooking up computers, installing software, upgrading machines, hanging pictures, decorating... and between it all, actually doing a full load of voice over work and watching Tivo'd episodes of Scrubs.

Maybe it doesn't LOOK organized. But it is. Trust me. Maybe I should find another place for the decorative "globe." And that joystick? That's for BUSINESS purposes. Sometimes in my job, I am required to fly an airplane, and this will keep me in practice.

Another view of that stupid globe. And the joystick. I might have the only desk with a 5.1 dolby surround speaker system and subwoofer. Maybe not - most cool people have them.

This is a peek into my recording booth. There are no joysticks or globes in there. Just a microphone, headphones, a copy stand and stool.

For two years (embarrassing) I've been in "temporary" mode in my office. All of that is changing now, as I try to get prepared for the new baby next spring.

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Something to try: Wipe your ass while smiling. It's not as easy as it sounds. You end up with sort of a grimace-smirk-smile.

You know you'll try it.

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Emily and I have been discussing our halloween costumes for this year's big bash. We both believe this will be the year she stops winning the "sexiest costume" award. I can't divulge anything more... except to say that if she doesn't win, it has nothing to do with her not being sexy.

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Our schedule is pretty crazy this weekend. We're headed out in a few minutes to the Clayton Art Fair, to check out some of the stuff they call "art." (although if you've ever been in my house, you've seen a sculpture I bought in a drunken haze one year and wondered "WTF?") I'm not taking my checkbook, so it's not likely we'll need to drive the Hummer for it's copious cargo space.

Tonight we're babysitting Ella, and will continue her accelerated education by teaching her combustion theory and chemical equilibrium, and we'll probably touch on quantum mechanics.

Plus, we'll play with her caterpillar toy that you can use to sound out dirty words. You should hear what Dr. Mike made it say last night. I am blushing as I type this, and Mike... you are an animal. Completely disgusting.

Tomorrow, we'll be attending a football party at Bill & Chris' garage. Emily will need to be the designated driver. Again.

That should be plenty for a weekend. I will write more this week and it won't be so boring.

Kid Nation

Reality television scores another huge victory, as CBS (Children Being Screwed) wraps up taping of what I'm sure will be a highly viewed reality series, "Kid Nation."

Synopsis of the show: Forty children between the ages of 8 and 15 are dropped off in an abandoned New Mexico desert town and left to fend for themselves without adult intervention (except of course for the grown-up camera crews poised to capture all the action.)

The network is taking alot of heat about the concept of the show, and rightly so. But why would I be particularly harsh on the network? Oh sure, they dreamed up the idea, had their attorneys draw up the 22-page non-disclosure and indemnification agreement (which also absolves the network of responsibility in the event of injuries - the attorneys even thought to include sexually transmitted diseases) and taped the whole thing, but c'mon. It's really the PARENTS WHO AGREE TO ALLOW THEIR CHILDREN TO PARTICIPATE that I take issue with.

So a closed circuit message to those people:

You are stupid. You allow a television network to take your child out of school and put them in a "town" without you (and with minimal adult supervision) and let them fend for themselves.

Then, when something does happen (and who couldn't predict that???) you bitch to the media that your child was injured. Hey "mom and dad," you knew the risks, but for a little fame and five grand, you were willing to risk it.

You, the parents of the children who "star" in Kid Nation, are witless, and should be stripped of your parenting license. (if there were such a thing, and don't you wish there were)

It's more than just this one show. And it isn't the kids, but the parents, who are responsible for the popularity of shows like this, or networks like MTV (M T&A). They allow their kids to do whatever they want. To run amok. Watch whatever, do whatever... hey, they need to learn to express themselves, they need the freedom to make their own way and be who they are.

You are the same parents who allow their children to scream at the top of their lungs, run from table to table in restaurants, throw fits when they don't get their way and hit or yell at you in disrespect. They are spoiled, loud, narcissistic meglomaniacs.

And you know what, people? You get what you deserve. If you allow your child to participate in a TV show, get burned by a grease fire, sunburned until scarring takes place or catch an STD, it's all on you.

And hey CBS... anything for money, right?

Momentum

Life is all about momentum.

I'd need a doctor to confirm or deny it, but cataclysmic medical issues aside (such as cancer or heart attack) you die when you lose your momentum.

My grandmother worked in a restaurant, lugging plates of food and platters of drinks until about a year before she died. She decided it was time to "retire," so she quit. The problem is, she didn't have anything else to DO after that... so she sat in her house watching television and eating the same thing... day after day... until she died.

And all it took was a year.

Pray the day never comes when you hear Mom say "I think I'll skip my walk today." Or from Dad, "I'm too tired to go to the strip joint."

You must keep moving forward. To slow down too much is to stop. And we all know what stopping means.

I'm writing this down... so in 40 years, I won't forget.

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As we prepare for the baby's arrival, Emily and I are each working on our individual preparation projects. She is shopping for outfits, diapers, wall decorations for the nursery...

I went shopping for this.
It's a high definition hard-drive camcorder. If we're having a baby, we need to record as much of him or her as possible. I don't have a lot of video of Courtney when she was little. Sure we rented a camcorder for the big events, but we have very little footage of her everyday cuteness. That will change with little "Earl" or "Earlene." (only temporary names, don't worry)

As you've probably gathered, electronic gadgets are my weakness. I sit around all day playing with this thing. I've videoed the dog and cat, Emily lying in bed with morning sickness, a Mexican guy fixing the telephone lines behind our house, even us watching a baseball game... at home in our living room. WTF?

I think I'll tape myself taking out the trash later.

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Nothing is spookier (besides maybe Hannibal Lector or Rosie O'Donnell without makeup) (or Rosie O'Donnell with makeup) than finding out somebody else is living their life... as you.

I found out a guy in Indianapolis is working and living under my exact name and social security number. I received a letter from the IRS saying I hadn't claimed some income from 2005, because I failed to report my W2 from a brick and shale company based in Tennessee.

When the smoke cleared, I learned (through local law enforcement and the feds) that an illegal immigrant has been using my name and SS# for three years, in order to work and live in the US. I can't imagine where he got my info, but I'm hoping by now he's been arrested and his ass is sitting on a bus back to Mexico.

This immigration thing MUST be fixed. This is the second time in seven years that my identity has been stolen.

Now I just need to find a way to convince Master Card that it was that Mexican guy who fraudulently charged a new camcorder to my account.

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I'm in the middle of a complete redesign of my website, planning a wedding, planning for the arrival of a child, organizing my office and recording studio, getting the odds and ends of my life cleaned up... as you can see, I have a few things on my plate. Sorry I haven't posted in a while, and when I finally did, it wasn't that interesting.

PS - I just noticed that Google now lets you add video directly to your blog posts. Sweet! I have some great footage of me clipping my toenails in HD.

Big Daddy Dave

You may choose to skip this entry, some of it might be boring. It's more or less a personal perspective of where I am right now, and where we're going as a family. More of journal entry, really.

Lightning Bug's Butt has called me Big Daddy Dave for as long as I can remember. I'm not sure why - maybe he had a premonition that I'd sire a child soon. ("sire a child" - I sound like a horse... although it would be "sire a colt" I guess) I regard the nickname as one of those oddities I can't explain.

It's weird how your goals and motivations change when you find out you're going to be a parent. Women tend to begin nesting pretty quickly - they start picking out clothes, furniture, cleaning the house, getting the baby's room organized, the warm-fuzzy stuff.

Men start thinking of ways to provide for the family. I've been on a kick to do some things I've been meaning to do for a while, such as updating my demo audio, getting my business matters organized, aggressively pursuing new business, etc. In just a week I've signed two new clients, and have another big one ready to go. Pretty exciting, considering all I needed to do was get off my lazy butt and DO it.

I had become complacent. I have more than enough business to pay our bills and support our lifestyle. But with a baby on the way, we have the future to worry about now. It's not enough to be OK today, we have to be OK for twenty more years. In just a few days and with some aggressive moves... my business grew five percent. In another month or two, I have no doubt I can hit twenty to thirty percent.

I remember when I was first building my business... it was sink or swim. I chose to swim, and it took hard work and long hours, but things worked out. That's what it feels like now... like I'm starting over from scratch with the renewed energy and enthusiasm I've lacked for a little while.

Dr. Mike has it right when he says this is the perfect time to be a father. He is also in his low 40's. He has Ella, who is one year old, and he and Paula are trying to have another. I agree with his philosophy - we are having kids when we can actually enjoy them. Not that Courtney (my 18 year old) didn't provide fulfillment, meaning and purpose to my life, but I made almost no money back then, worked 50 and 60 hours a week and had the patience of a 25-year-old.

Imagine how things will be different this time. I make twenty times the money, have tons more patience, and I work from home. I have a flexible schedule that will allow me to spend quality time with the baby, take him or her to the park, to school, to play dates, etc. The same with Emily. She's getting her PhD in psychology and will open a practice, which will eventually allow her to set her own hours and really be a parent.

I'm really looking forward to the whole thing. I was hesitant about having more children, and being the selfish bastard I am, was close to deciding against it. I'm glad we made the decision we did.

We had our first ultra-sound yesterday. We got 3-D pictures and saw the heart beating. What an amazing ride this is going to be!

Dang! - a weekend update

I didn't get my office painted over the weekend, my back was too sore. I'm thinking about heading to the doctor, I might have a slipped disc or cancer or something.

A bunch of friends went to see Bourne Ultimatum yesterday... totally great flick. Lots of action, really intense story line... the only thing I can even remotely complain about is the camera work. It's the shaky stuff. You know, like the camera operator is trying to follow the action and send a text message at the same time.

It looks like there will be more sequels after "Ultimatum," the ending was wide-open. I'm glad Ada lent us the first two movies. After seeing the third one, I'm like a fat kid in a donut shop.

Not sure what that means.

We went with two other couples. I can't remember ever attending a movie with a group of people - it's always been me and one other person. It was fun, although Dr. Mike kept flipping me off and throwing popcorn. Paula, please control your subject.

So all-in-all, I'm glad I didn't paint my office. Dave procrastinates again, what a shock!

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Sixty mile per hour winds woke me up at midnight last night. OK, actually the dog (who was freaked-the-hell-out) woke me up, but you get the picture.

I love storms. There's just something exciting about watching the lightning across the sky and feeling the ground shudder when thunder booms. And hearing the sump pump kick on. And resetting all the clocks. And picking up limbs.

OK, so storms suck.

I was hoping to see some of the meteor shower last night, but was unable because of clouds. Did you get a look from your location???

Wilt thou?

Over 100-degree highs for the forseeable future. Oh, sure - they say by next Thursday we may dip down into the low 90's, but weather guys are about as reliable as coal mine operators.

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On the weekend schedule, we're headed to a St. Louis Cardinals game tomorrow, where game-time temperatures will be around 100 and humidity will make it feel like 110. If our seats are in the sun, we might just head down the street to Mike Shannon's restaurant, sit at the bar and watch the game in high def. Three or four dirty martinis with bleu cheese olives will make me think I'm still at the game.

Plus, they are about the same price as a small beer at the ball park. I'd make that trade all day, every day!

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I love painting. And when I say "love," I'm really saying "never ending hate." This Sunday I will be painting my office. That is, if the searing pain in my lower back subsides.

I can lift 50 pound bags of potting soil, dog food or whatever all day, then lean over to pick up a sandwich and be out of commission for a friggin' week. Back problems are a recurring thing for me... much like marriage, only less expensive and I don't end up hating my back and thinking of ways to exact revenge upon it.

Oddly enough, I originally injured my back loading my stereo up when I got divorced the first time. I find that kind of funny!

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Irony: Writing your final child support check on July 19, and finding out you are having a new baby exactly one week later.

My favorite thing in life is being a father. I've gotten more satisfaction and enjoyment from it than everything else in my life combined. I can't wait for April 6th!

But it's still ironic.

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Tivo is an amazing tool. It has done more for television than anything else I can think of for the past 30 years. We are definitely a Tivo household... we have four. Tivo is my crack.

Do you have Tivo? If so, do you ever find yourself catching a glimpse of a chick in a bikini as you fast-forward through a commercial break, then actually scan back through the commercials to get a look?

Yeah, me neither.

Taurus rising

Prejudice: an unfavorable opinion or feeling formed beforehand or without knowledge, thought, or reason.

For years, I've been pre-judged because I am a Taurus. Oooh, I must be one stubborn son-of-a-bitch... after all, I'm a BULL. Bull in a china shop, bull headed... all of that. And while I may be stubborn sometimes, most of it is bull shit.

So I was ever so slightly offended, but mostly just disappointed as I listened to a group of people tell me what our new baby will be like based on the fact he or she will be an Aries. "Oh my, Aries children tend to be collicky, and they take longer to potty-train."

Hey, the little tike's Dad is an asshole, that's factual, and far more impactful.

The irony is, none of these people really realized what they were doing. They were pre-judging him/her "without knowledge, thought or reason." (no, the zodiac calendar isn't considered reason) Come on, folks... it's 2007! Do we still insist on judging people based on where the sun was during their birth? I will save you some time - it was in the sky.

The same group of people would never judge someone based on color... these are all reasonable, thoughtful people. Yet they will say that Bob can't possibly marry Sally... she's a Capricorn with Mars rising, and he's a Pisces with Moon in retrograde. That would never work!

How about Bob's gay? That would be a reason.

Reading tea leaves? Same thing, it's all bullshit. You'd be better off sniffing the person's middle finger. A "breakthrough" can really ruin a day. The tea leaves will only tell you if they backwash.

Although I do love me some chinese fortune cookies.

(yeah thanks Confucius. I already knew that)

A picture says a thousand words...

So FIVE pictures would be, like... um. Well anyway, I was never good at math.

Car air conditioners have changed a lot through the years. Apparently this is the latest incarnation. When we were returning from a night out recently, we stopped for gas in a sort of bad part of town. It proved to be a rich stop for us.

A closer look shows that the guy apparently didn't want anyone to steal his AC. He's installed the newest security and locking system.

We attended the boxing matches last night, and included was a righteous chick fight. These girls turned it on from bell to bell without letting up. Notice the picture is blurry. That's how fast they were moving. That, or the beer I was drinking affected my photography prowess.

Naw, they were moving fast.

Token photo from the dude fight. Nobody really wants to see it anyway, so we'll move on.

For Sale: One slightly used Sprint PocketPC. All documentation, charging base, original box included. It was only driven to church on Sundays. If you'd like to buy it, email me.

For anyone who'd like to follow along...

Here's our baby's website.

It's weird. I have an 18 year old daughter who I adore and have thoroughly enjoyed raising... and until a year or so ago, had decided I was finished with children. Honestly, it only took finding someone like Emily to change my mind. Not that she lobbied to change it, but the idea of being a parent with such an amazing person just blew my mind. Not to be sappy, but we connect on a level I've never reached with another person before.

So we decided it was time.

Now, I am in preparation mode. I'm getting my office remodeled and in order. We're getting the garage and baby's room cleaned out, things put into storage and our lives generally organized. It's really fun! I needed this renewed energy and direction right now. It has motivated me both personally and professionally.

Life is pretty sweet!

No words necessary... we're ecstatic!

Comment-airy

Barry Bombs is one HR away from tying Hank's home-run total. He will then set a new record, I'm sure.

So f-in' what?

Barry Bonds is a cheat. So was Mark McGwire and a litany of other players who "juiced." (or currently juice) This is a non-event, and the more press it gets, the more troubled I get.

I think he should be recognized with a standing ovation when it happens (in the event he really DID set the record honorably and honestly) and that's it. He deserves no more, no less.

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"Aquafina... from some of the finest bathtub spigots in Milwaukee!" (How do you like my new slogan idea?)

It was revealed this week that Pepsi has been selling customers bottled water from "public water sources."

Shocking!

Americans, being the gullible bunch we are, believe water from a plastic bottle is better, cleaner, healthier... than that which is consumed from the tap. Common sense (and countless and constant health department tests) would indicate we're really, really stupid for believing that.

We bitch about $2.67 per gallon gas (my neighborhood price today) but we'll fork over 20 bucks a gallon for Fiji water because it has a fancy-shmancy square bottle and a picture of a mountain on the front.

When I leave the coffee shop this morning, I will go to QT. I will purchase a large bottle of Fiji. I will pour it down the sink and replace it with tap water. I will drink that tap water from the Fiji bottle. I will repeat that process over and over until the bottle wears out. I will look cool, rich and smart.

Which is the real reason Americans buy bottled water.

Want a sip?

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We're selling $20 billion in advanced weaponry to the Saudis?

STFU. You gotta be kidding me.

We never, ever learn. Ever. Stupidest, most forgetful people on Earth. Instead of making major moves to curb dependence on oil, we continue to coddle these backward MFs and dragging our feet on nuclear energy and the research of alternatives.

Nero fiddles while Rome burns.

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It's studio remodel time, so I'm headed to Home Depot to buy a door, a lighting fixture, some paint and all that junk. I'll take photos.

MySpice

For people who can't or won't pay for dating or singles sites, MySpace has been a free alternative for finding some lovin'. You can search by age, sex, location, interests... and then contact that person via private message to see if they're interested. A friend of mine who has a site on MySpace received multiple inquiries, including one couple who wanted to meet her for a threesome. Nice.

Brad Paisley has a song out right now called "Online." It's some funny shit!

I work down at the Pizza Pit
And I drive an old Hyundai
I still live with my mom and dad
I'm 5 foot 3 and overweight
I'm a scifi fanatic
A mild asthmatic
And I've never been to second base

But there's whole 'nother me
That you need to see
Go checkout MySpace
'Cause online I'm out in Hollywood
I'm 6 foot 5 and I look damn good
I drive a Maserati
I'm a black-belt in karate
And I love a good glass of wine
It turns girls on that I'm mysterious
I tell them I don't want nothing serious
'Cause even on a slow day
I could have a three way
Chat with two women at one time
I'm so much cooler online

The average profile on MySpace tells me many of its inhabitants are young people who use the site to satisfy their alter-ego or position themselves in sexual or suggestive terms. Adults tend to gravitate toward places like Blogger and Typepad, although those services have their share of kids, which means deviants will follow.

The difference is, unless you publish your email address on your Blogger site (which I do) there is no vehicle to contact the author. It's not condusive to the meat-market scene or being a predator's playground. I've never received email from someone asking for a threesome... although maybe that's because they saw my profile picture. ;)

Now it's been divulged that MySpace had to delete 29,000 sites from its system because those people were known sexual predators. And those were just the ones who chose to use their real names.

It's too bad, really. MySpace was a great concept. It's just that too many people use it to get laid or prey on kids. Like restaurants or nightclubs, they are defined by their customer base. It is what it is.

Showering is for sissies

We just returned from the annual camp-out and float trip with about 30 friends, and you just don't realize how much of a panty waist you are until you live outside with only a 5x5 tent, jerky and a fishing pole to get you by.

Of course that wasn't our situation. Sure we had jerky, but also KFC chicken tenders, packs of delicious crab meat, wine and cheese, jello shots, a huge portable CD player with sub-woofer, pre-prepared foil packs of roasted chicken with veggies and a rechargeable tent ceiling fan. Shit, tents don't even have ceilings.

Yet despite all of those "not-a-real-camper" comforts, do you know the one thing that made me a real camper last weekend? I didn't shower. In FOUR DAYS. Not even once.

I was in the river a lot, we swam, floated and waded. But I never bathed in the traditional sense, which makes me a f*ckin'-A camper. I didn't even need mosquito repellant.

Here's a photo of my Hummer, packed with the camping supplies of two couples. If you had tried to pull the wrong piece out at the wrong time, there would have been a deadly explosion of camping supplies, vodka and tent material. You may also find pieces of a pink flamingo as well... hey, even on the road your yard needs to look kitchy. If you look closely in the upper left corner, there's a black bag... thank goodness we had space enough for our deluxe queen-size air mattress with 600 thread count sheets.* Camping just isn't the same without the necessities.

A picture of Violet and me. We may or may not have been in a state of insobriety. Notice the messages on the shirts... yeah, we're just that good.

So let me ask you... if you bring pre-cooked food and have access to showers and buffet food, is it really camping? That was the subject of the great debate around the campfire. (which we lit with a bag of lighter-fluid-soaked charcoal briquets) We are most definitely NOT camping purists. Are you?

The quote of the week was courtesy of camper Bill. When told there was extra ice if he needed any for his cooler, his response was "is it still frozen?" Here's your sign.

Disclaimer: the mattress sucks and the sheet thread-count is only like 150... but that stuff doesn't sound funny at all.

You can take the kid out of the hood...

Michael Vick is a jagoff.

He's also the Atlanta Falcon's star quarterback. He's also up dog-shit creek.

Read the story - it'll make you feel like puking, especially if you're a dog lover.

Throw the book at him. Put him in prison, where he belongs... he's a scumbag.

A blog's worth

We're back from our weekend whirlwind trip, and I owe thanks to friends Dave, Trish and their kids... and Russ and Shelly for making it great.

We're back at it for now, but Thursday we leave for our annual camp and float trip on the Huzzah river! We'll be gone Thursday through Sunday. When we return Sunday, it'll take most of the afternoon to check for ticks.

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Lately I've been off and on with blogging, although I don't have an adequate excuse. But today, I was reminded that my blog is an important and worthy spot on the net.

Back in 2005, I lost a dear friend, and wrote about it on these pages. I used what words I could find at the time to fashion something of a tribute/obituary for her... and today as someone was searching the net to find their old friend Adrianne... they learned of her death here. They posted a comment honoring her, a full 2 1/2 years after her passing. (Thanks for visiting, Alex. I'm happy to read your words of remembrance)

I conducted my own search and found that mine is the only outpost on the net which honors her life, or marks her death. Even today, there are people just getting the news... and if my blog serves no larger a purpose, I will be content.

And now, dudes jumping on trampolines!

Ever see The Man Show? It ended every week with "girls jumping on trampolines." I don't need to explain the virtues to you.

I jumped on a trampoline for the first time in 20 years today. More like 30 years. I was a kid in Los Angeles at the time, and the arcade next door to my mom's job had trampolines, and it cost 25 cents to jump for 15 minutes. I probably spent a dollar a day jumping.

Now that I think about it, I was 10 years old, so it's only been 23 years. ;)

And you know what? I wouldn't have gotten on the goddamn thing if I had remembered how much work it was.

We're in Youngstown, Ohio today with my friend Dave Steele. He's feeding us beef. I know that sounds dirty, but it's true... we bought an entire tenderloin at Sam's today and it's sizzling away on the grill right now. Lucky you, I have my camera.

You know you want some.


That's Dave, The Grillmaster. He's a prick and sometimes kind of feminine but he's OK.

Tomorrow, it's on to Dayton, Ohio to spend time with our friends Russ and Shelly. They have a pool. Emily has her bikini. You'll check back tomorrow, won't you?