We hardly knew ye

The talking heads are chiding North Korea for having a failed rocket launch last week.  They were supposedly attempting to launch a weather satellite, but we all know it was essentially a missile test.

At any rate, it broke apart 90 seconds after launch and fell into the Yellow Sea.  But the sad irony is, we forgot to look in the mirror before poking fun at NK's misfortune.  We don't currently possess a space vehicle capable of orbital flight at this point.  NASA's budget has been gutted and the Shuttle program mothballed.

We had one last look at a shuttle in flight today, as NASA transported the Discovery to the Smithsonian's original Air & Space Museum.  It did so on the back of its specially modified Boeing 747.  Quite the sight to see as it made a flyover of DC before landing at Dulles.  Farewell, old friend.  Here's to better days...

Why do I believe anyone is interested in my life story? Anyway, here's Chapter One.

The first thing I remember as a rug rat was a train ride from California to Missouri. At age 4, a nap feels like an eternity, a walk to the mailbox seems endless. So this train ride, through the desert, mountains and plains, through night and day, storms and sun, stop and go, stuck squarely in my 4-year-old craw.

By day three, I knew how to tell time, write my name in cursive, compute the square root of 3 and wipe my own butt.

Great-Great Grandma Varty was the one who taught me those things. She sat across the table from me in that creaky passenger car that was, as near as I can remember, the California Zephyr. We had to change trains somewhere in Nebraska or Iowa to finish the trip to Kansas City, but I remember the view out the window. It was spectacular. She kept me hydrated with Cokes and her purse was always stocked with chewing gum. I did not lead the life a dentist would have wanted, especially on that trip.

What I learned from that experience was how big the world was. I had been on an airplane, but they tend to make the world feel small. If you want to really see the world in all its glory, take a train.

I don't remember why I was taking a train to Kansas City with Gramma Varty, but I have a suspicion it was to go stay with my grandparents, who ended up helping me through half or more of my first 20 years.

This is Chapter One of the life of Dave. It gets more interesting - after all, this is my earliest memory. My other early, foggy synapse connection is falling in the yard and cutting my pinky finger wide open on a rose bush, but I'll spare you. There was blood, okay?

I'm drifting off as I type, so I might have to embellish from here. Take a breather, top off your drink and settle in.

Breitling Crosswind Special Limited Edition For Sale

I have a Breitling Crosswind Special Limited Edition for sale. It's in excellent condition, like new. I've worn it 4 times total. Documentation included. It's one of 1000 made, number 973.

It's honestly the most beautiful watch I've ever seen, but I simply don't wear it often enough to keep it. I paid $4,700 for it new, but the St. Louis County Court ascertained a value of $46,000. (No way she's worth that but it cost me $23,000 to keep her)

Facts/figures:

• Limited Edition of 1000 Units (#793)
• Black Dial Version with Date
• Polished Stainless Steel Case
• Polished Stainless Steel Bezel with 18ct Gold Riders
• Chronograph with 18ct Gold Pushers
• Chronometer
• Tachymeter
• Sapphire Crystal
• Stainless Steel and 18ct Gold Bracelet
• Water Resistant to 100m/330f

It's a limited edition watch that any Breitling fan would love. Offered for $10,000. If you're interested, make me an offer, I won't be offended.

As shown below.

Contact me at dmorris01@earthlink.net for details. WHOOPS SOLD LAST WEEK!!!!!!!!!! Thanks for your interest.

Porky McFatfuck is an actual person.

Porky McFatfuck is a real dude.  Here is his picture.  Lots of people know Porky, and, that he's real.  Skeptics should not doubt this fact.

Porky surfs the internet.  I think he's looking at his family website, www.mcfatfuck.com.

Just enough

I don't want to BE Grandpa K. Not exactly. Just enough.

We paid our final respects to Howard Kirkpatrick today and honestly, it was one of my more difficult days. We weren't that close, but we were friends.

Funerals are never easy but this one was especially tough because today, there is one fewer genuinely good people in the world. At a time when we can ill afford to lose even one.

Howard departed on his own terms, free from disease... his only enemy, time. Not many can say that. But more than that, he really did live a loving and unselfish life. Not to sound maudlin or cliche, but he gave more than he took. Taught more than he learned. Loved more than he was loved.

And I wonder... how did he do it? What was his secret? From where does that kind of honest-to-goodness positivity come? Days like this tend to make me introspective. For what will I be remembered? What will they say when I'm gone? I really don't know.

Truth is, Howard didn't know either. He had no idea because he didn't worry about such things. It would have taken too much time and effort. He was just... Grandpa K.

His mojo came naturally. And that's really the secret, isn't it? Either you have it, or you don't. It can't be contrived or forced.

He didn't mean to be anything special. And that's why he was.

And so shall I carry on. Not particularly caring how I will be perceived, but knowing that if I live right and love much, then THAT is what I will have done with my life.

And that will be just enough.

Just arrived...

Maggie Elizabeth Morris, 8 lbs. 10 oz., 21 inches, born at 1:27 pm on Mother's Day, May 9, 2010. Both mom and baby are doing well!

I wasn't as "play-by-play" active on the blog this time as I was with Grayson. So Maggie, I apologize if someday you feel slighted. I love you just as much!

DEFCON 3

It's been a longer, slower labor with Maggie, she's not as driven to come out as Grayson was. Every bit as cute and smart, I'm sure!

We've been at the hospital for fourteen hours now, and just found out we're dilated to seven. I'd say she will officially arrive within an hour, maybe ninety minutes. I'll keep things updated as we get new info!

"I Facebook, therefore I am."

This is not a drill... we are at DEFCON 2

I have started most of my latest posts the same way: "It's been a while since I've posted."

This time, it's true. It's been since January, to be exact, and I'm breaking my blog silence to make an announcement - we're having our baby!

Maggie Elizabeth Morris is on the way tonight. Mommy's water broke at Ada and Angie's house and we had to leave in a rush. Grayson is staying at Mana's and we're checked into the hospital.

Cool fact number one: Maggie will be born in the same room as Grayson.

Cool fact number two: Grayson was born on Emily's birthday, and Maggie will be born on Mother's Day. (Yes. I'm feeling left out.)

Since I've basically stopped blogging regularly, this will be mostly to document our new baby's birth for our family... but if you're still checking in now and then, feel free to read along.

Almost a year...

As a kid, I remember being irritated by clichés. A large part of my life was spent with my Grandparents, so I was subjected to a litany of them. My least favorite was "time flies."

As a kid, time never flies. Ever.

Even after I got out of school, time seemed to crawl. I wandered aimlessly through my twenties, wondering if I would ever see evidence of time "flying." Working in the electronics department at Wal Mart, time most certainly does not fly. Moving from town to town in radio was hard, but still, a year seemed like two.

My thirties, however, were a different story. Weekends started to feel like one day instead of two. Time spent with my daughter was fleeting and before I knew it, I was forty.

In 2004, I started blogging and came to know a fella named Gene Maudlin, alias Old Horsetail Snake. At first our relationship consisted only of blog comments. Then one night, as I struggled through a divorce, he reached out with a phone call and we talked for a couple of very reassuring hours.

Gene was a good man. Unfortunately, he was also in his later years, and had been a smoker most of his life. For him, time definitely flew.

I went to his blog one day and found an announcement that he had passed away. He's been gone now for almost a year... yet I can still pull up his blog. I read several entries from it tonight. For those of us who only knew Gene via the online world, he will never die. In this realm, time stands still.

Weird thing, the Internet. Every modification of every website... every single click of a key... is a snapshot in time. A placekeeper to remind us what was happening in that tiny sliver of a moment.

Good night, Gene. Your blog buddy misses you. Thanks for making it possible, via your blog, for us to still visit now and then...

Takes me home...

No matter where I end up in the world, there will be one place I call home. It's ten miles from any town, down a long, dusty gravel road. Hours would go by without a single car. If you wanted a place to hide out and never be found, this was the place.

Living there was a love/hate thing. Kids don't care much for isolation, it interferes with a social agenda. On the other hand, it would be utopia for an astronomer, you could see every star in the heavens, and, except for a buzzing bee or summer breeze, the silence was stark. On any given evening you could sit on the porch and listen to the neighbor, about a mile through the woods, playing his harmonica.

I lived there with my Grandparents, who deserve a ton of credit for who I am today. In that quiet and remote place, we spent plenty of time talking. I learned how to cook, chop wood, weed a half-acre garden, and about a thousand idioms that make me seem older than I am. I also learned to appreciate the little things.

But in my soul, I was a kid from Los Angeles. I needed more social interaction with people my age, and there wasn't much of that. Until I got a set of wheels, I would sit on a glider in the backyard and endure bouts of wanderlust. At night, I'd listen to far-away radio stations to find out what the rest of the world was doing.

My grandfather died one morning cutting wood to heat the house. Less than a year later, I got a job offer in another town and started a decades-long pursuit of a dream. At the time, I was glad to see that place in my rear view mirror.

But from my current perspective, living in a city with crowds, bills, and bullshit, I remember that place fondly. I'm not wired in a way that would allow me to go back, but there's a song that occasionally pops up on my iPod that reminds me of home, and clears out my tear ducts.

Mail doesn't deliver to where my Grandparents are today, but if it did, I might write words like these:

(Love, Always) Letters To Home

You might think there's some big reason
Why I took this time to write.
The cards and letters...
There've been too few of those.
But I just stopped to realize
How long that I've been gone,
And there's a few small things I need to know.

Dear Daddy, do the whippoorwills still echo through the night?
Does the sound of silence squeeze the morning light?
And have you caught the big one in the pond just down the road?

I miss you so.

Well the years keep slipping by me
Like the miles out on the road,
But I don't guess I'll change my way of life.
There's no harm in holdin' memories
So please tell me if you can,
I need to bring those old times into sight.

Dear Mama, can you still find the dipper in the stars?
And do the roads still go for hours without cars?
And does the frost still shine cold mornings
On the grass outside the door?
Just like before...
Tell me more.

I'll be back to see you sometime soon.
Can you still reach out and almost touch the moon?

And do the old songs still ring out
Through the hills for days and days?

Love Always.

Merry Little Christmas

May your blessings be many.

My life

My trip has been so fruitful.
The people I've encountered,
Places I've been and
Things I've seen
Weave a tapestry of
Wild shapes and colors
With ups and downs,
Lights and darks,
Yin and yang,
So utterly unpredictable
That it makes the works of Chagall
Seem tempered.

Seriously?

I can't believe it's been four months since I posted on my beloved blog... it's definitely taken a back seat lately, considering how busy we've been.

We found out we're having another baby! That's great news. I agreed to another child so long as we did it early enough that I wouldn't be attending graduation ceremonies in my 70's. But nothing makes you feel younger than raising kids.

We're moving into a new home December 1, in time to be settled and ready for the baby's arrival in May. We're keeping our villa and leasing it out as an investment property. That will add a level of complication to life, but the option of selling has been removed by a poor housing market. That's OK.

My mom is working on trying to move closer - which would be a real relief. At the current distance, it's hard to get down to visit more often than once or twice a year. If she's closer, we'll be able to hang out more often.

Emily is enjoying her work, for the most part. Grayson is 18 months old now, and his vocabulary is exploding. He repeats what we say, so it's important to be careful! The other morning, I could have sworn he said "god damn."

Down the street is a bank. Well, it used to be a bank, but they've moved to a new facility up the street, so now it's an abandoned bank, complete with a drive-thru. Every time I pass by, I consider buying an old jalopy, putting a rubber skeleton in the driver's seat with a deposit slip in its hand, arm extended out the window, and park it by the drive-up window.

More later. I hope it's not THREE MONTHS this time.

Mmmm, brinner!

On an episode of Scrubs, one of the characters mention that he loves breakfast for dinner... "brinner."

I'm not sure why it's so appealing to have pancakes for dinner, but it has long been a favorite of mine. Maybe it's because breakfast is comfort food, and at the end of a stressful day, it hits the spot. As a kid, I just remember Aunt Jemima and Johnny Carson making it all feel better.

iPhone 3g S, where the S stands for 'screw'

I just pre-purchased my new iPhone 3G S, the third generation version that drops this Friday. It's clear to me that the S stands for 'screw,' which is what they do to customers who aren't yet eligible for a discount upgrade.

But did that stop this "must-have-the-latest-gadget" geek? Uh, no. I ordered the black 32-gig version.

It has video shooting and on-board editing, a 2x faster processor, on-board compass, 4g capability, (when AT&T gets around to upgrading their system, slated for late summer in some markets) voice control, and a slew of other features which make it pretty nifty.

Worth the upgrade? Depends on your taste and needs. For me, it's an easy decision, but I'd say sales will be less-than brisk unless AT&T decides to change policies post haste.

Signing off...

Today is the day that television technology we've known since the 1939 RCA broadcast from the New York World's Fair becomes obsolete, and is completely replaced by digital television.

The huge bandwidth-hogging, fire-breathing analog transmitters will be turned off for the last time, replaced by lower-powered, more precisely and narrowly tuned ones utilizing a completely different technology and broadcast band. The old band will now be taken over by wireless mobile telephones, etc.

My first memories of television were the commercials. As a toddler, I would mentally drift through the actual shows, but when the commercials came on, I'd sit down and attentively watch. Grayson does the same thing today.

The first big television event I remember watching was the moon landing in July 1969. My grandparents had the volume turned way up and we were all staring, mesmerized. I remember it as if it were yesterday.

I think we've heard so much about this day, we've become desensitized to it. But what if someday, all radios just went "dark"... and only HD and satellite radio remained? Or, if gasoline powered vehicles just disappeared and we had to replace them with electric ones.

Goodbye snowy picture, see you later interference lines. No more rabbit ears with aluminum foil. Even though I've been completely digital for probably 9 or 10 years, it's still a bittersweet day.

Bom bom bom-bom

Saturday May 30, 2009 began a new chapter for Emily and me. I love her with all my heart and can't imagine a more perfect match for my personality and life... or a better mother for my baby boy.


The Conservatory in Old Town St. Charles is a fantastic place for a wedding. It's a little on the expensive side, but they arrange everything for you and Gary makes sure everybody is in their place and knows what to do.

So now the honeymoon is over and we're back to our regular lives. I truly can't imagine anyplace I'd rather be.

RIP Regis Morris, July 1 2002 - May 18 2009

When we discovered Regis had lymphoma, we felt like we might get lucky and have him at least a year. That was three months ago, and today we said goodbye.

It's been a long mourning process, knowing there is no cure for canine lymphoma. We were able, through chemo, to get him almost back to normal during much of his sickness... so we've been fairly lucky. But we knew the day would come when he could no longer endure the battle.

Today was that day. So long my boy, you have been with me through thick and thin. Love you, pal. You were the greatest pup any guy could ever want.

One night, a long time ago...

I'm having a really cool experience and felt like I should record it here.

It's the end of a crazy day, and I'm sitting in the living room. The house is dark, except for the light of my notebook computer. Above me are huge windows which provide a fucking amazing view of gathering storm clouds. Now and then in the distance, lightning flashes across the sky. A half-minute later, a low rumble of thunder and a slight gust of breeze.

It's surreal... and it takes me back.

It was a night in 1978. The light of the computer would have been the glow of the dial on a portable AM radio. The station I was listening to, The Mighty 1090 KAAY-Little Rock, was playing "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac. I remember hearing the rain begin to hit my window and it felt like it was raining everywhere in the world. I felt this unexplainable combination of melancholy and elation.

It felt like the rain washed something away that night. Maybe my childhood, I don't know.

Tonight, my computer is providing the Fleetwood Mac... otherwise it feels eerily similar. I'm not sure what the rain is washing away this time.

What a trip.

... you live in a zoo...

So. Forty-five. Today I am halfway through the period most noted for middle-age crises, the onset of gout and a last-ditch effort to cling to your youth by having a child.

So far I am two for three.

Phrases like "young at heart" and "patriarch of the group" are starting to sting. I still look 40, I guess. But at somewhere near this age, you start aging in bursts. You'll look the same for three years, then age five all at once.

You start worrying that every little pain is a disease. That other people your age are making more money, enjoying more success and are more healthy than you. You begin realizing that your vision isn't QUITE as clear, your thought processes aren't QUITE as fast, and the idea that you will skydive or whitewater raft for a living fades a little further into the din. (Oh, don't worry, the hope is still there.)

A family member sent me an email this morning to excoriate me for forgetting to pay their satellite TV bill this month. The great news is, I can more believably attribute it to forgetfulness. The bad news is, they didn't even wish me "happy birthday." All the better I suppose. I DO hope to someday forget this date.

Here's hoping it blows through like a gentle breeze. As Lucy Larcom said, "Whatever with the past has gone, the best is always yet to come."

Yup. And I'm the luckiest son-of-a-bitch on Earth.