Something Familiar

The Dreaded Question

2007-04-10T14:58:00.000-07:00

Monkey Boy and two of his eight year old friends are in the back seat of a neighbors car riding home from school. Neighbor overhears this coversation while driving.

FRIEND 1: I really wanted to see that movie, but my big sister says there's too much sex in it.

MONKEY BOY: What is sex?

FRIEND 2: You don't wanna know.

MONKEY BOY: No really, I do.

FRIEND 2: I'm not gonna tell you.

[At this point, our neighbor is pretty sure Friend 2 has absolutely no clue what sex is either.]

MONKEY BOY (to Friend 1): Do you know?

FRIEND 1: I'm not sure.

MONKEY BOY (to Neighbor): What is sex?

Now at this point, neighbor has limited options:

1) She could pretend she didn't hear them and just drive home like a bat out of hell where the boys will quickly descend on the Playstation and forget about their question.

2) She can play dumb and go with "I don't know either" but she feels the boys will see right through her.

3) She could offer a real explanation -- after all, she's already had "the talk" with her older daughter -- but realizes that it may not be appropriate to educate someone else's son on the birds and the bees.

She goes with option 4 -- a quick, dismissive explanation that when men and women do lots of kissing in a movie, it's sometimes not appropriate for young boys.

The boys accept this and she's home free.

That is, until Monkey Boy sees me and MLB smooch the next time and he accuses us of having sex.

I can just see it coming.

Most amazing TV commercial

2007-01-08T08:03:00.000-08:00

Get ready to be astounded by the following Honda commercial. Before you watch, read on...

There are no computer graphics or digital tricks in the film. Everything you see really happened in real time exactly as you see it. The film took 606 takes. On the first 605 takes, something, usually very minor, didn't work.

They would then have to set the whole thing up again. The crew spent weeks shooting night and day. By the time it was over, they were ready to change professions. The film cost six million dollars and took three months to complete including full engineering of the sequence.

In addition, it's two minutes long so every time Honda airs the film on British television, they're shelling out enough dough to keep any one of us in clover for a lifetime. However, it is fast becoming the most downloaded advertisement in Internet history. Honda executives figure the ad will soon pay for itself simply in "free viewings" (Honda isn't paying a dime to have you watch this commercial!). When the ad was pitched to senior executives, they signed off on it immediately without any hesitation - including the costs.

There are six and only six hand-made Accords in the world. To the horror of Honda engineers, the filmmakers disassembled two of them to make the film.

Everything you see in the film (aside from the walls, floor, ramp, and complete Honda Accord) are parts from those two cars. The voiceover is
Garrison Keillor. When the ad was shown to Honda executives, they liked it and commented on how amazing computer graphics have become.

Oh and about those funky windshield wipers. On the new Accords, the windshield wipers have water sensors and are designed to start doing their thing automatically as soon as they become wet. It looks a bit weird in the commercial.

Here's the link:
http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/honda.php

It's worth the two minutes to watch.

A Super Guy

2007-01-03T06:27:00.000-08:00

Turns out the superhero I'm most like is none other than the superest dude of them all. I was surprised by the results -- especially because I answered the "likes to wear a cape" question in the negative. Go figure.

Your results:
You are Superman

Superman		90%
Spider-Man		70%
The Flash		70%
Iron Man		65%
Robin		55%
Green Lantern		55%
Catwoman		55%
Supergirl		50%
Wonder Woman		40%
Batman		30%
Hulk		30%

You are mild-mannered, good,
strong and you love to help others.

Click here to take the Superhero Personality Test

Festivus For The Rest Of Us

2006-12-22T06:50:00.000-08:00

A classic!

Best Laid Plans -- One Year Later

2006-12-20T20:11:00.000-08:00

Last year during Holidailies, I wrote about the night of Hanukah on which we gave Monkey Boy and Peanut some money, and then presented them with a bunch of options where they could donate that money online.

They both ended up donating to an “Adopt a Manatee” program and all was good. They felt good about doing something for another living creature, and MLB and I felt like we had scored one in the category of instilling an appreciation for charity.

Fast forward to this year –

The other night after lighting the Hanukah candles, we presented the kids with some cash and a bunch of printouts (including from “Adopt a Manatee”) with options for this year. What would it be? Sponsoring a “Save the Whales” program? Buying a bunch of chickens for a village in some third world country? Red Cross?

We were surprised by the response: “Do we have to give the money away this year?”

We explained that while we’re by no means rich, they have many things and take for granted things that many people around the world do without. A safe, secure home. Clothes. Food on the table. Toys.

After a bit of reluctance, they finally came around. We had visited the Florida Aquarium last year and the kids decided to donate their money to the aquarium to sponsor the care of marine life. OK, that was on par with last year. Mission accomplished.

An hour or two later as Peanut was preparing for bed, she lamented to me that she didn’t want to give the money away. She’s five so the lesson may be a little tough to get through to her.

I gently explained that she and her brother have so many things. They still had toys they received as presents on their birthdays this summer that still hadn’t been opened. Some children are homeless, hungry – not knowing when or where their next meal will come from. To them, the holidays are no different than any other day because they won’t light menorahs or decorate Christmas trees. They won’t receive presents. Some are so poor that when they get sick, they can't even afford to go to the doctor or to get medicine.

She seemed to contemplate this -- grasping the full meaning of my words.

Then she turned to me with a serious expression and asked:

"I still have toys from my birthday that I haven't opened??"

Guess we'll have to try again next year.

TIME Magazine's Person of the Year

2006-12-16T20:38:00.000-08:00

In a surprise move, TIME magazine named all of US as its "Person of the Year". Why? This was a year in which the individual came front and center. With the incredible rise of user-generated content on the computer, this year more than any before now demonstrated individuals becoming publishers, broadcasters and filmmakers. Not to mention the growth of social networking sites like MySpace where people created pages dedicated to themselves. Now anyone who knows your screen name can locate you on MySpace and find out about your favorite songs, TV shows, movies, hobbies. They can view your pictures and videos. And if they like, you can become virtual "friend" on the platform, where you agree to link to each other's pages.

Apparently this only the 4th time in TIME's history in which it shyed away from naming an actual person as "Person of the Year." In 1966, the 25-and-under generation was cited; in 1975, American women were named; and in 1982, the computer was chosen.

Congratulations on being selected!

Chinese Food on Christmas

2006-12-15T19:01:00.000-08:00

This is an instant classic. An original song by a Jewish boy lamenting that he has nowhere to go on Christmas. It's so true and very well done! A must-listen for any Jew who has spent Christmas at the movies.

Santa Laughed At Me

2006-12-14T19:55:00.000-08:00

My town does this nice thing where you can submit a form in early December with your phone number and some information about your kids and on a given date, someone calls the house and talks to your kids as Santa. We did it two years ago and it was a huge hit with Monkey Boy (now 8) and Peanut (now 5). We didn’t do it last year because we were out of town the day they were making the calls.

Which brings us to last night. The call came in and my wife, expecting the call from Santa, told Peanut to answer the phone. Now we don’t know what the Santa on the phone said but his voice must be deep like Tom, my brother in law’s.

Peanut listened intently into the phone but didn’t say anything.

MLB: Who is it, Sweetie?
Peanut: It’s Uncle Tom.

Monkey Boy pops up to the phone and says “Can I say Hi?”

Peanut listens a moment longer and then hands the phone to Monkey. He says "Hello?" and listens and reports back "It's not Uncle Tom. It's Santa Claus."

Peanut shys away from the phone, feeling embarrassed about confusing Santa for Uncle Tom, and says to MLB in her sad, little girl voice "Santa laughed at me!"

As Monkey chatters away with Santa listing the 500 things he wants for Christmas, MLB tries to solicit more information about the laughing.

Then it dawns on her:

MLB: When he laughed, did he sound like "HO HO HO?"
Peanut: Yes.
MLB: Santa wasn't laughing. He's just JOLLY. Santa laughs that way with everyone!

As Monkey finishes with the list he's been preparing since last Christmas, Peanut finally agrees to get back on the phone and manages to tell Santa one thing she'd like for Christmas -- a Barbie fashion showcase.

Poor little Peanut, thinking Santa was laughing at her. He better come through with that Barbie Fashion Showcase.

I'm pretty sure he will.

Matt Damon Does Matthew McConaughey

2006-12-13T20:38:00.000-08:00

Saw this video clip and it made me laugh. Wouldn' have imagined Matt Damon and Matthew McConaughey were buds but Damon does a great impersonation of his friend.

The Santa Question

2006-12-12T20:36:00.000-08:00

CAUTION: Don’t read this if you don’t know what question I’m referring to.

Monkey Boy is 8 years old. Last year, one of his friends told him the secret about Santa. We were fascinated by his reaction.

Disbelief? No.

Sadness? Not that we could see.

Anger? No sign of it.

Instead, he told us that his friends had told him that Santa was really your parents. But he didn’t want us to confirm whether this was true or not. He simply wanted us to know what his friend had told him. We think he knows the truth. He just wasn’t ready to acknowledge it out loud.

Which brings us to this year. And we haven’t the slightest idea where he is on this subject. We’re watching him carefully for clues about his current state of mind. Is he ready to come clean about knowing? Does he want some sort of confirmation from us? We watch him and wait.

I think he’ll enjoy being in on the secret and keeping up appearances for Peanut who is only five. We’ll see.

Easy To Follow Instructions

2006-12-11T18:53:00.000-08:00

We bought ourselves one of those portable basketball systems for the driveway. It’s a basketball pole and hoop on a stand that can be wheeled around on the driveway if you want to change its location. Monkey Boy had a gift certificate to Modell’s and he picked it. “Great idea” we thought. Maybe we’ll all get some exercise.

Little did I suspect that the exercising portion of the basketball system would begin just trying to get it out of my SUV. The thing weighed a ton. And once I got it into the garage, I knew I would have to park my car outdoors for the week until I got it all together because there wasn’t any way I was going to move that thing again.

Between the lethal wide plastic bands that encircle the box (next time I’ll know to wear protective eyewear when I snip them off).to the poles and pieces. I realized that this was a gift that would give us much more than practice on our layups.

We laid all of the screws, parts and pieces on a tarp on the driveway. The box came with an inventory. There were easily 1000 pieces (OK, maybe 100 but it felt like way more).

Next we skimmed the instruction booklet. All 500 pages of it. In FRENCH. OK, I'm exaggerating again but it certainly felt like both 500 pages and French.

5 hours and 8 bleeding cuts on my hands later (yes, 8 is real. Peanut actually counted them), we finally got it assembled. Now I'm off to fill it with 400 pounds of sand (again, no exaggeration).

Wish me luck.

Sleeper Cell

2006-12-10T20:14:00.000-08:00

Very compelling television. Worth watching if you get a chance.

The Departed

2006-12-09T22:00:00.000-08:00

Finally caught The Departed tonight.

I'm late to the party but definitely have to say it's the best Scorsese movie in a long time. He switched over to high brow fare to try to get some respect from Hollywood but didn't get any. It's wonderfully ironic that he goes back to the territory of cops and organized crime that he does so well (e.g., Goodfellas) and produces something that is worthy of a lot of respect.

The movie is tight and great performances abound. DeCaprio, Damon and especially Nicholson shine. Even Mark Walberg and Alec Baldwin give nifty peformances.

Definitely worth a shot if you can catch it.

Chad Vader

2006-12-08T12:14:00.000-08:00

Not sure if you've seen this or not but its a very fun concept. Chad Vader is a series of shorts on YouTube about Chad, Darth Vader's brother, who is the day shift manager at a grocery store.

He gets no respect from his employees, keeps calling his boss Randy, "Emperor" and hits on the check-out girl.

Fun stuff. Check it out:

Of course, given LucasFilm's vigorous stance on litigation, my guess is it will get challenged as copyright infringement. From where I'm standing, it feels a lot like parody but who knows how a court would decide.

In any case, it's worth a look before it gets taken down.

And to the creators, May the force be with you.

Yo, Rocky!

2006-12-07T19:20:00.000-08:00

Today I caught the trailer for the new “Rocky Balboa” movie. I’ve pasted it below in case you missed it.

Now before you start scoffing and running off at the mouth about how Stallone’s career must’ve been so over that the only acting job he could get was to go back to a character he created in the 70s, I want to remind you that the original “Rocky” won the Academy Award for Best Picture. That’s right, Best Picture. It belongs to an elite club that counts among its members “The Godfather,” “The Godfather, Part 2,” “Gone With The Wind,” “Unforgiven” and “Crash”. Not bad company.

And like this one, it was a movie that Stallone not only starred in but wrote. While Stallone’s acting range may be limited (“Rhinestone Cowboy”, anyone?), Rocky (like Rambo) is in his DNA. In many ways, he is Rocky. Came from nowhere, took a shot at the title and came home with the belt.

In this movie, a computer program pits Rocky against the current heavyweight champ and determines that if they fought while both were in their prime, Rocky would have won. So of course, Stallone, er, I mean Rocky, gets back in the ring for one last shot at the title.

At least from the trailer, it looks like it has some nice moments of Rocky grappling with the reality that he’s old and past his prime. Who are we to deny Stallone one last shot at glory. I hope he goes down fighting.

The Trouble With Superman, Part 2

2006-12-06T19:50:00.000-08:00

Did anyone catch this video on YouTube? It’s worth a watch.

Go ahead, I’ll wait.

Done?

So if I understand this correctly, Warner Brothers is playing with the numbers on YouTube to make video clips about Superman Returns look like the most popular videos. He's the Man of Steel for goodness, sake. They couldn't let him stand on his own red-boot clad feet?

Superman stands for truth, justice and the American way. If this story is really true, then what does Time Warner stand for?

Happy F&%!@ New Year

2006-12-05T18:15:00.000-08:00

As mentioned in my post the other day entitled "Merry F&%!@ Christmas", To many December brings thoughts of the holidays, gift giving, time spent with loved ones and vacations.

For some in the wonderful world of corporate America, it also brings layoffs. Fortunately I wasn't effected this time (knock wood). But some people I really liked were.

Layoffs are not unique to my company. I know the realities of the business world sometime suck. The end of the year is coming and some great big corporate parent in the sky is putting a lot of pressure on its baby companies to MAKE THE NUMBERS.

The VIPs feel the pressure. October comes and they're still feeling confident. November rolls around and they start checking and double-checking numbers.

But by December, unless it's a slam dunk, they start the holy-mother-of-God-this-is-gonna-be-close process. The night sweats, the movement of as many costs into the next year as possible. Still, it's not gonna be enough. We've either got to pull some extra revenue out of our asses or we're going to have to do some serious cost cutting. And unless someone's waving a secret weapon to bring in the revenue, it's off to the cost cutting board.

Now management knows that to keep their jobs (and get some nifty bonuses), they HAVE to make the numbers. Failure is not an option. So they do what they must to make the numbers. We MUST make the numbers.

Happy F&%!@ New Year to the numbers and to the friends that are being "let go", so long.

The Trouble With Superman

2006-12-04T18:55:00.000-08:00

“Superman Returns” is out on DVD. Generally, it’s the type of movie I’d want to add to my collection.

But reflecting on the film (which I saw while it was in the theaters), I realize that it left me wanting more.

I like superhero films. They generally sport nifty special effects and occasionally hold the power, even if it is just for 90 minutes in a darkened theater, to make you believe.

I also generally like Bryan Singer movies. He’s a smart, talented director and has shown the ability to take subjects that run the risk of being “regular” to the next level without turning them campy.

For me, the problem with this Superman movie was the dude himself – Superman.

Brandon Routh did a fine job in the title role. But that’s just it. It was “fine”. Superman is arguably the greatest of all superheroes. He’s the leader of the Justice League, for gosh sakes. I can’t imagine Brandon Routh’s Superman leading the Junior League, let alone the Justice League.

Kevin Spacey was flashy as Lex Luthor. And I’ll grant you that playing the villain is often the flashier role than the hero.

But people came into the theater loving Superman and left only liking him. There was nothing special about him personally (oh yeah, other than those nifty powers). All we did was watch him. We didn’t connect with him in the way we connect with Tobey Maguire’s Spiderman (especially in Spiderman 2).

I hear they’re working on another Superman film. I hope they help us find a way to connect in the next film.

Maybe then I’ll buy the DVD.

Surprise!

2006-12-03T17:07:00.000-08:00

Close your eyes.

Are they closed? No peeking.

Just another second.

OK. Open them.

SURPRISE!

How ya feeling about that? Some people love surprises.

"Want to know what I'm getting you for your birthday?"
"No, surprise me."

Is that you? Some people like situations like this. Someone has thought enough of them to take some initiative behind their backs and do something that they think you would like. How nice is that?

What's the downside? I guess if you really hate what they got you, you have to flash a happy face, tell them you love it, and figure out whether it's something you need to really keep (because they'll look for it when they're at your house next time or ask you about in the future) or whether you can toss it in a dumpster in the parking lot outside. Them surprising you puts you in the situation of now having to tip toe around them to avoid hurting their feelings.

On the other end of the spectrum, you have those folks who hate surprises. I know people like that. When their birthdays or holidays roll around, they give you a page ripped from a catalog of the thing they'd like you to get them. You get them a gift that you know they truly want and they get the gift. Win-win situation, right? For some, maybe yes. For others, it takes away some of the joy of giving a gift. My grandparents always wrote us checks for our birthdays. Were they around when we bought something with it? Nope. Did they see the look on our faces when we opened it? Nope. They simply sent a check. Worked for them but I can't say those checks made me warm and fuzzy inside.

Of course, there are many people who fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, both on the giving and receiving end. I've had people ask what I think Monkey Boy or Peanut might like for their birthdays. I've had people say "don't get me any clothes for my birthday, I'm planning to lose weight this year".

Different strokes for different folks, as far as I'm concerned. Whatever works for you. I'm just thankful that I've got people in my life for whom I want to remember special occasions with a gift, and visa versa.

Thumbs Up for Happy Feet!

2006-12-02T20:27:00.000-08:00

Any parents of young kids out there have shared the agony of taking your children to see a movie they were dying to see, but is so dreadful you check your watch every five minutes and try to will yourself to sleep just to make the most out of having to sit there for 90 minutes.

I've been there. I feel your pain.

When we first saw the trailer for "Happy Feet" many months ago with a boisterous, in-your-face Robin Williams penguin front and center, I thought for sure this was going to be another wasted 90 minutes.

Tonight we took the kids to see the film, and while I don't know that I could call it life changing or anything (and there are several gaps in logic), I'm happy to report that this was a fun, funny and original movie that had something for adults as well as kids. There was great music and dancing and spectacular CGI. I had to repeatedly remind myself everything we saw on screen was computer generated.

So if the kids are begging for "Flushed Away" (about a rat that gets flushed down the toilet -- enough said), try to convince them to see this one instead.

Merry F&%!@ Christmas

2006-12-01T10:23:00.000-08:00

Ah, December. To many of us, it brings thoughts of the holidays, gift giving, time spent with loved ones and vacations. It's a time for self-reflection and re-dedication to the things that are most important in your life. Sounds pretty good.

Now of course you have to filter everything I say with the knowledge that I am an optimist and a generally positive person, but to me, all of the things in the first paragraph make me all the more optimistic and positive in December.

For some people, though, this is not the case.

Maybe they believe the holidays have fallen victim to crass commercialization. Maybe they're just dissatisfied with their own lives. Whatever the reason, some folks become so nasty and negative in December that I can't help but want to whack them upside the head.

We took the kids to sit on Santa's lap the other day. MLB and the kids got ahead of me on line. When I caught up, I asked the people between us on line if they would let me pass because my wife and kids were up ahead. One guy on line responded in a nasty tone -- "Well, that's your story, at least". To him I responded "Merry F&%!@ Christmas". I didn't really but I should have. Did he think I was jumping the line so I could sit on Santa's lap myself??? Sheesh.

It's people like this guy and the ones who won't let you change lanes in traffic, push past you on the escalator, put down a gift idea you have planned for a friend.

They're all around us.

Let's lighten up, people. It's December.

So Bad It Might Be Good

2006-11-30T16:37:00.000-08:00

A friend just sent me the link to the trailer for "EPIC MOVIE" -- a spoof film from "two of the six writers" of one of those other silly spoof movies. Still, if you look at how all encompassing the trailer is, I wonder how they could possibly fill two hours at this crazy pace. Not sure if I'll actually get to see it in the theaters (we don't get out much without the kids these days) but it piqued my interest enough that I thought it was worth sharing.

Here goes:

You Can't Make This Up

2006-03-01T07:01:00.000-08:00

I'm probably the last person to catch this news story but I must admit I was blown away by the story of Jason McElwan, the autistic high schooler from Athena, NY, who managed the high school basketball team. With 4 minutes left in the last game of the regular season, the coach put Jason into the game where he proceeded to score 20 points -- in 4 minutes. Six three-point shots included.

Here's the link to the CBS News coverage in case you missed it: CBS Evening News video .

I could be in for the full game with nobody on the opposing team in my way and I wonder if I could score 20 points.

You watch the video coverage of the game and it's easy to see that Jason was loved and admired by his classmates. They cheered when the coach decided to let him into the game for a few minutes.

But when this kid caught fire and nailed basket after basket, you can feel the energy in that gym explode. Jason missed his first two shots and the coach, who has an autistic son of his own, just prayed that Jason would get a basket so he would know what that felt like. What happened was pure magic. If it were a movie, it would be so unrealistic a fairytale ending that the audience wouldn't believe it.

The irony of course is that the news reported this morning that Jason and his parents have been flooded with offers from the movie studios to turn his story into a feature film. Maybe with the words "A True Story" flashed all over it, the audience will buy it. For me, I'm not sure what the studios could do to make this more dramatic, or to shoot those 4 minutes in a way that make them any more electric than the live footage in the CBS clip.

Pretty amazing.

Forty

2006-02-28T13:40:00.000-08:00

Sorry I've been so absent from this place. Needed a break after a crazy December and January.

Stopped in today and realized I couldn't let the whole month of February go by without a single post so here goes:

I turned 40 this month.

Yep. Fabulous 40. The big "four oh".

Friends and family who realize this usually follow up birthday wishes with the inevitable, "So, how does it feel?"

My answer?

Pretty freakin' good.

I've got MLB and the kids, a good job, a decent home, good friends, great family. Yes, for a milestone birthday, it came with much less trauma than 30 did.

At 30, I was living in an apartment, finishing graduate school, changing careers. Too much of life was in flux. While life these days feels anything but settled, at least it feels like a life on track. I've accomplished some, have goals to strive for and plans (however loose they may be) for getting there.

The only thing that gets to me about 40 is the fact that I'm now older than all those folks on the show Thirtysomething who I used to think were so old. This year's college freshmen were born the year I graduated college. Sheesh! I'm still a kid.

I was recently told by one of my friends who is right behind me on the trail to 40 that someone published a paper saying that based on the current life expectancies of people, 40 is the new 25. So really, I'm just turning 25.

Can't wait to see what I'll be like at 40.

Bowl Me Over

2006-01-17T06:55:00.000-08:00

I went bowling yesterday for the first time in a long while. When getting our shoes and paying for our games up front, the chiquita at the desk asked for all of our names so she could input them in their system for us. We were 12 people so one less thing standing between us and bowling sounded good.

We get to the lanes and find that the desk in the center has been replaced by a computer screen. Not only did the computer screen already have all of our names, but, we soon learned, the computer automatically KEEPS SCORE!

You go up and bowl, the lane talks to the computer and tells it how many pins you knocked down. Then after your second ball, it tallies your total for the frame. If you get a strike, spare or split, you get a cute little movie on the screen.

Now for all of my friends who believe math is hard (and you know who you are), this is probably a dream come true. No more need to tally scores and compute strikes and spares. Come to think of it, I'm guessing my "math is hard" friends are also probably the least likely to go bowling in the first place so maybe this was never a source of stress for you at all.

Personally, I have fond memories as a child of bowling with my family (my folks were avid bowlers) and learning how to do math by scoring the bowling games. It was a physical activity coupled with some mental stimulation.

Ten plus the next two balls. Ten plus the next ball.

It was a math exercise. And even if I was a crappy bowler as a kid, I was often distracted from this fact by rushing back to the desk after my turn so I could fill in my score with that short little pencil with no eraser.

No such luck for my kids. The computer has taken over.

I'm guessing there's only so many times I can have them count the number of balls in the ball return.

Breaking Away

2006-01-15T20:09:00.000-08:00

At last, I’m on vacation for the next week. Hallelujah!

I say that not so much for the vacation at this moment, but the fact that I’ve finally left the office. Has everyone realized how ridiculous it is to take vacation from work these days?

“I’m gonna need these 30 projects done before you go.” – Of course, if you weren’t going away you’d have 3 months to do them but what if you get hit by a bus or your plane goes down? It’ll take us at least 3 months to find someone to replace you.

“I just want you to look at this” – It’s something you had nothing to do with but just in case I decide I might have wanted you to look at it while you were away.

“Where are we with everything you’ve touched for the last year?” – code for I don’t want to be caught without an answer on something while you’re away.

Or better yet – “Write me a status memo on every project you’ve touched in the last year.”
OK, sure. I’ll get right on that. Ah, hell, maybe it’s just easier if I don’t go.

As good as I think I am at what I do, I am a firm believer that nobody is indispensable. Beside for the fact that you’ll have my cell number and I have my Blackberry wherever I go so if need be, you can always find me.

Then why, oh why, must it always be so freakin’ hellish getting out of the office before vacation?

No matter how much planning goes into it, it is always this way. I’m always so stressed by the time I leave the office that the first two days of vacation are always spent just recovering from the last day at work.

And let’s talk about when you get back…

Many of the items you were working on were courteously held in check until you returned because you’re the best guy to do it (code for “I’ve got enough of my own work to do, thank you.”)

Now in all honesty, I must admit that my colleagues where I work are a better-than-the-average-bear group. They enjoy their vacations as much as I do. So when I'm out, they do everything they can NOT to have to interrupt me. They know I'll do the same for them so it works out for both of us.

We also generally share assignments (e.g., no one person is an island) expressly for the reason that we CAN step in for one another.

When assignments are courteously held until my return, it's usually the case of my clients deciding that they'd rather wait a week until I return than to brief someone new on the subject from scratch.

I just wish it wasn't so freakin' hellish to leave. I swear. By the time I drag my sorry ass onto the train to head home, all I want is to drink heavily and veg out to some music on my new iPod.

The music is on. The drinking will come later.

So for right now, my trusty laptop and blog will have to serve me to blow off some steam.

The Mouths Of Babes

2006-01-10T19:03:00.000-08:00

MLB was readying Monkey Boy and Peanut for their swim classes the other day when Peanut happened to mention that if she gets thirsty during swim class, she just drinks from the pool.

Somewhat dismayed, MLB tried to explain to Peanut (who is only 4) that although the pool has chlorine in it, it might not be very clean.

Peanut was unfazed.

To try to make her point, MLB went on to explain that it is quite possible that some of the little kids who take lessons here might actually pee in the pool.

"It's OK," replied Peanut.

MLB and Monkey Boy looked at each other dumbfounded.

Monkey decided to take a shot.

"You know, some of those kids probably fart in the pool."

Peanut blinks calmly. Monkey Boy persists. Maybe she didn't hear him.

"It's fart water. You're drinking fart water."

At this point, Peanut shrugs and simply responds, "I don't mind."

While mildly gross, and no doubt constituting one of those stories Peanut will hate us telling her dates when she grows up, I'm thinking we ought to get this young lady an application to compete on Fear Factor.

Those wimps have nothing on my little girl.

When Worlds Collide, Part Deux

2006-01-07T10:12:00.000-08:00

Sorry about the clipped ending to the last blog. Apparently there are limitations to the size of fields when you’re entering them from a Blackberry.

Anyway, where was I? Right. The two trade shows.

OK, so you have the Consumer Electronics Show with 140,000 geeks in Vegas during the same week as the Adult Entertainment Expo.

I wish I had a camera here with me. But having none, I shot some footage with my mental camera. So if you’ll dim the lights, I’ll roll the film.

Picture, if you will, the scene caused when the impossibly, inhumanly (bordering on absurd) buxom porn star strolls down the convention center thoroughfare. CES attendees stop, gawk, lower their cell phones and blackberries and part to make way.

Or the moment when the bald, handlebar-mustached and ridiculously tattooed “producer” of quality adult films excuses himself to get past the gearheads riding the exhibition hall escalator.

On this beautiful, mid-60s day in Vegas, dozens of techies sit on benches and grass dining on salads and sandwiches. In their midst, nonchalantly sits a large white man with dreadlocks (I didn’t know white people could grow dreadlocks?!) and more piercings on his face than you’d think could be possible. (How do you keep food and drink in your mouth when you’ve got multiple holes in your cheeks?) Beside him stands two platinum blondes who keep adjusting their skirts because, let’s face it, there isn’t much skirt there. One has to imagine that’s why they’re standing and not sitting with him.

OK, last one.

As I’m standing in the very long taxi line with Consumer Electronics fans from many nations, I notice up ahead in line two young boys, probably 12-13 and their dads, arms full of “fan materials” collected at the Adult Entertainment Expo. All four have spiked hair and tight t-shirts. They laugh, clearly having enjoyed a day of wholesome father-son bonding.

You can turn the lights back up now.

Just a few thoughts about the Consumer Electronics Show:

Do you remember as a kid going to Disney World and riding the “Carousel of Progress”? As the show progresses, you watch the same family go from turn of the century (and I don’t mean 2000) up through modern day and then into the future. You watch grandma play virtual reality video games with her grandson. Mom cook a Christmas dinner with a voice-recognition oven. The kids calling from somewhere far away on their video phone.

The CES is the last scene of Carousel of Progress. From computers to phones to portables to cameras to cars to anything else you can think of, the latest, best, fastest, most amazing of their kinds are on display. It’s a little bit of H.G. Wells, Ray Bradbury and Star Wars rolled into one.

Our first video game as kids was Pong, by Telstar. How cool was it that each player could move his white vertical line up and down to hit the little white “ball” back and forth. And we thought video games had really quantum leaped when we got an Atari. I mean, Asteroids, Space Invaders, Pac Man. Loved ‘em. They were the coolest thing and kept us busy for hours.

Today I saw a demo of Playstation 3.

I’m not a big video gamer anymore. Monkey Boy got a Gamecube this year so I’ve played a few of his games and thought they were pretty impressive.

But I am not exaggerating when I tell you that the Playstation 3 demo at the Sony booth had hundreds (yes, hundreds) of grown adults standing there with their mouths open. We turned to each other as if to say, “are my eyes really seeing what I’m seeing?” OK, we were watching the next generation of gaming on a 70 inch high definition plasma TV, but still.

I defy anyone to see this and not be blown away.

If you’re one of those folks who get scared by technology, this show isn’t for you. The future is coming faster than we think. So if that concept stresses you out, you can go ride the Dumbo ride.

Me? If Playstation 3 is a glimpse of what’s to come, I’m getting back on the Carousel of Progress.

When Worlds Collide

2006-01-05T19:31:00.000-08:00

So I'm in Las Vegas attending some meetings Ford work at the Consumer Electronics Show. 140,000 of the world's biggest techies, gearheads and geeks in one place. Pocket protectors abound.

In keeping with the theme of CES, I'm writing this on my Blackberry so please excuse any typos.

Maybe I'm the last person to know this but I discovered that each year during the geek convention, the Adult Entertainment Expo is held.

More to come.

The Goldens

2006-01-04T12:17:00.000-08:00

Conventional wisdom says the world is divided into Leaders and Followers.

It’s also commonly said that any group can’t exist with only Leaders (too much fighting over jurisdiction) or with only Followers (nobody to lead the way).

I think there’s a third group that falls somewhere between the Leaders and Followers. And these people are pure gold.

The Goldens are a group who are happy to lead but are equally happy to follow if an acceptable Leader steps up.

I guess you could distinguish a Golden from a Leader in that some Leaders are only happy if they’re leading. It’s kind of like driving. Some people must drive the car because they hate the lack of control when they’re a passenger. These types of Leaders are NOT Goldens.

On the other hand, you can distinguish a Golden from a Follower because no matter how a group might be flailing about in the breeze, a Follower will not step up to lead. The Follower might notice the disorganization. Might even be able to recognize the need for leadership. However, a true Follower will not lead.

I’m involved in a bunch of groups/organizations from Boards, professional committees, civic and political committees, interest groups, committees for activities my kids are involved in, etc.

I constantly watch the dynamics in these groups and it’s gotten so that now I can pretty quickly determine who in the group falls into which category.

The most successful of the groups I’m involved with are comprised exclusively of Leaders and Goldens. Better to have Goldens than Followers because you can lop of areas of responsibility and delegate them to a Golden and THEY WILL GET DONE. Not so with a Follower. In the Follower’s case, unless we’re talking a single discrete task, it will usually require a bunch of reminding, prodding, etc. of the Follower to make sure the task gets done.

What constantly amazes me though is that you can have someone who is the most base Follower you can imagine in one context, and then find that the same Follower is a Leader in another setting. I don’t get it.

I mean, you can’t lead unless you’re willing to take on the responsibility of making sure something happens.

Followers don’t do this. They can sit around all day until there’s someone to follow.

But when someone you know is a Leader joins your group and then just sits around, or worse, allows deadlines to be missed or tasks not be accomplished, I just find it shocking. I mean, how can their “Leader” side let things fall to pot?

I’ll take a Golden over a Follower any day. Goldens have enough Leader in them that when they’re assigned a task, you just know it’s going to get done. It’s almost like doing it yourself.

If you’re part of a group, aspire to be a Golden.

They’re pure--, well, you know.

A Dirty Secret

2006-01-03T21:16:00.000-08:00

I am the leader of a local chapter of what I have come to learn is viewed in many circles as a disgusting, despicable organization. Just plain evil.

The organization used to be chartered by the high school PTA. It was dropped several years ago without notice.

People who find out I’m involved suggest we change the organization’s name so that it’s not recognized as a local chapter of the larger organization.

I should feel dirty, cheap, even ashamed.

Skinheads? KKK? The Taliban?

Nope, nope and nope.

I’m the Cubmaster of Monkey Boy’s Cub Scout Pack.

There, I said it.

I bet the FBI has been alerted and I’m no doubt under double secret investigation in 14 states.

Look, I’m a very liberal person. Somehow, in some way, I’ve come to learn to be respectful and tolerant of people with differing views than my own. Could have been due to my East Coast college education. Could have been genetics. In either case, I know that there are times that my opinions and perspectives may be very different than this country’s majority (heck, I learned that when I thought it was a sure thing that Dubya would not be re-elected). I still get to live here even though I didn’t vote for the guy.

To hear some people talk about the Cub Scouts, you’d think it was the Taliban farm team.

Yes, I know that Scouting’s main establishing organization is the church (one of several I believe). I also know that Scouting has taken some intolerant views with respect to sexual persuasion. I think the views are narrow minded and probably driven by ignorance and arrogance.

There are plenty of gay men with sons who are model fathers to their kids, model citizens and great role models. There are also plenty of straight men who are deadbeat Dads and criminals.

But when I learned tonight that someone in my community suggested that we change the name of our pack from Cub Scouts to the Outdoor Club, I wonder if we’ve gone too far.

As a national fundraiser, Cub Scouts sell popcorn. It is to Boy Scouts what cookies are to Girl Scouts. I’ve heard people refer to the product these kids sell as homophobic popcorn.

As far as I can tell, popcorn has no views on sexuality. And frankly neither do the Dads involved in our pack. We couldn’t care less.

Scouting is a fun, rewarding program that teaches boys a ton of different skills, offers leadership opportunities, provides a mechanism through which a 7 year old like Monkey Boy and his friends can perform service projects for the community.

Let’s not destroy or dismiss the organization simply because it hasn’t arrived in the 21st century yet. Heck, I read that some state like Louisiana still has a law on its books that makes it illegal to tie your alligator to a fire plug.

I can’t imagine the local cops issue many summonses for violating the law these days. The law just hasn’t caught up with the times.

I think in time, Scouting will catch up and allow any male without a prison record to be a scout leader. It’s bound to happen. It just may take some more time.

Frankly, I don’t care if you tie your alligator to the hydrant. As long as it doesn’t hurt me or mine, he can stay there all day.

He can even be a scout leader.

A Man Of Leisure

2006-01-02T10:30:00.000-08:00

Today I’m doing something I’ve never done before.

We’ll I’m sure I did it when I was a kid, probably lots in college, maybe some when we were first married. But it’s been so long that neither MLB nor I could remember the last time. So it feels like we’ve never done it before. Know what it is?

Nothing.

Yes, that’s right. Today we’re doing NOTHING!

We slept until 8:15 – a freakin’ record in our house where we’re usually lucky just to reach 7am before one of the kids or the dog needs attention.

And you know what? I’ve scheduled a nap in for this afternoon.

Yep, got that penciled in at about 2:00 right after my 1:00 appointment to do nada, and before my 3:00 reservation to do zippo. I take my nothingness very seriously.

The kids asked if they could stay in their sweats all day. Our answer? You betcha.

I didn’t shower until about noon and that’s only because our computer consultant dude is coming by later to replace a doohickey on our computer. So I showered. For Ed. Otherwise, I might have considered joining the kids in their clothes boycott for the day.

Sometimes, the lives of 4 people get completely out of control. In a single day, we could face ballet, soccer, two birthday parties, maybe a playdate, a dinner date with another family, and 3 or 4 more things I’m not thinking about. As much as we try to limit the number of scheduled activities we sign the kids up for, inevitably our downtime is always uptime.

But not today.

OK, I know some wiseguy out there is thinking that I’m doing SOMETHING because I’m writing this. Technically correct. But I don’t count it because I can stop whenever I want. And I can pick it up whenever I want. No timeclock punching for us today.

I worked out a little, watched the end of a movie I’ve been catching in bits and pieces (“Paper Moon” – a classic), did some Blo-pen art with the kids. That’s about it.

I might eventually get motivated to sort my socks later while watching a DVD or something. But that’s only because Santa brought me a bunch of new socks and there are too many now to get the drawer closed.

Hmm, sock sorting. Might have to schedule a second nap.

Auld Lang Syne

2006-01-01T17:54:00.000-08:00

Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne my dear,
For auld lang syne
We’ll take a cup o’kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

What the hell does that mean?

OK, I get that it’s a drinking song (cup o’kindness, anyone?). But considering this is referred to on the web as one of the best known songs in English-speaking countries, I wonder how many people really know what it means.

Obviously, people sing the song, by Robert Burns, to mark the New Year but several references I found on the web admit that most people have no idea what they’re singing and that many can only recall a fraction of the words. My guess is that by midnight, there’s been enough cups o’kindness enjoyed that fellow party goers don’t notice.

It literally translates from the Scottish as “old long since”. Does that clear things up for you? Didn’t think so.

The English version is “old long ago,” “times gone by” or “days gone by”. Now we’re getting somewhere. As we know, people in the U.S., U.K. and English-speaking Canada use it to signify the start of a new year. But did you know:

-- in Taiwan, it’s used as a graduation and a funeral song
-- in Japan, many stores play it to usher customers out when it’s closing time
-- in the U.K., it’s played at the end of the annual Trades Union Congress
-- in Korea, the lyrics of the national anthem were sung to this tune until the current anthem music was written
-- in the Maldives, this WAS the national anthem prior to 1972 – words and music
-- in Portugal, this song is used by boy scouts to mark a farewell
-- the University of Virginia’s fight song, “The Good Old Song” carries this tune.

While the Scottish took the song with them as they emigrated throughout the world, its association with New Year’s Eve is most commonly attributed to bandleader Guy Lombardo who used it on radio and later TV New Year’s Eve shows since 1929 (what a guy!). However, newspaper accounts dating back as early as 1896 describe party goers on both sides of the Atlantic singing it to usher in the new year.

Another interesting bit of trivia – the meter of “Auld Lang Syne” is identical to “America The Beautiful” and the songs can be sung perfectly with their lyrics switched.

I feel much better now. How about you?

Happy New Year!

Resolutions

2005-12-31T15:44:00.000-08:00

It’s usually this time of year that people always make resolutions for the coming year. OK, I waited until the very last possible day. I’ve been busy. Sue me.

People always end up choosing things with good intentions, but it’s usually things they’re not likely to follow through on. More of a wish list -- except people don’t realize that with resolutions, YOU are the fairy god mother who needs to make the wishes come true.

For January and February, people will eat less (all the holiday goodies having been safely ingested before the resolution kicked in), work out more (it’s cold, what else is there to do?), watch less TV (until sweeps kicks in in February) and try to be nicer to their fellow human beings (it’s all that holiday goodwill carrying over). Come March, all bets are off.

What resolutions? Did I say that? Well I didn’t know they’d open a Cinnabon right next to my office. The gym was too full and I was too fat so I didn’t want all those people to see me in my workout clothes. The dog ate my homework. The sun was in my eyes.

Of course there are those with a very high opinion of themselves who don’t think they need resolutions. Resolutions? Not for me. I’m perfect just the way I am.

Oprah’s got a new thing this year where she tells her viewers to ask themselves "What have you done today to make you feel proud." MLB is an avid Oprah watcher so I’m usually up on what’s happening on the show. I think it’s a worthy effort to make people think more about others and less about themselves. Not a bad goal. We’ll always look out for ourselves but it’s less natural to be watching out for others.

Of course, after this intense period of natural catastrophes, I think many of us have done more (at least more than ever before) in 2005 to help others. How many people who never donated time, money, belongings, etc. to anything before, volunteered or donated to Tsunami Relief, Katrina Relief, the American Red Cross, etc. Sad that it takes such public and devastating suffering of others to wake the rest of us up. But at least it did. It would be sadder if we all just read about Katrina in the paper and then turned to the sports section without blinking an eye. I think overall, we reacted responsibly and admirably.

But back to resolutions. Resolutions are SUPPOSED to be about ourselves. It’s a time to conduct a personal inventory and determine what we need more or less of in our lives. What could we be doing better? It’s a time to be selfish. It’s all about you. If one of the things you think you could be doing more of is helping others, then that’s fine. But you choose that as a resolution because it’s something you think YOU should be doing.

Of course, I could say I’m making a resolution to be less selfish so in that case, I shouldn’t make any resolutions. We have a way of talking ourselves out of anything.

So without further ado, here are my own resolutions:

-- Spend more time with MLB and the kids.

-- Try to play when the kids ask me to play with them. Such requests are often met with a "later" or "tomorrow" response. Before long, they’ll stop asking and I’ll be the one begging them to play.

-- Make sure the people (family and friends) that I love and appreciate, know it. I’m going to try to call, email and get together more.

-- Keep up with my workout routine. For the first time in a decade, I feel fit and have lots of energy. It’s not easy to keep up but I really want to.

-- Write at least one, and hopefully two, more scripts

That’s all I can think of right now. It’s a good start.

Happy New Year to everyone who has stopped by to read this. I hope 2006 brings you everything you want.

Spectacular

2005-12-30T19:03:00.000-08:00

Today’s Hanukah gift to the kids was tickets to see the Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular. We went tonight. The kids liked the fact that they opened envelopes with the tickets and we said “Go get dressed, we leave in an hour.”

At some point while Peanut was dressing, she asked me “What does spectacular mean?”. I told her that it meant fantastic, super special, big and flashy.

Well the show was all that. The Rockettes were impressive – just the amount of work it takes to get 36 women to move in unison like that. The stage is huge, the musical numbers expansive, the amount of movement and action overwhelming at times. Spectacular? Probably but I wanted to make sure.

I came home and looked the word up. It means “Of the nature of a spectacle; impressive or sensational.” OK, I guess it WAS spectacular. And while I thought it was fun to watch the kids enjoy the show and shout out things they found particularly engaging during the performance, I wasn’t sure it was something I’d ever need to do again. MLB felt the same way.

The more I thought about this, the more I realized how similar tonight’s experience is frequently to movie-going. I love movies. Popcorn “spectaculars” to quiet dramas to quirky independents. And even though I didn’t develop an appreciation for the “oldies” until after marrying MLB, I now count some of them among my favorites too.

However, there’s so much “spectacular” work being done these days but at the end of the day, they have very little resonance. Two vastly different films I saw recently illustrate the point.

I caught “Fantastic Four” on DVD last week and while I enjoyed the “spectacle”, I was sadly disappointed by the film. I loved FF as a kid. I always hoped that as effects got better and better, that they would make a film version worthy of release and admiration. Instead, I felt there was plenty of glitz, but no real heart. We’ve seen in the Spiderman and X-Men films that it’s possible to care about or relate to a character at the same time our jaws are dropping over their super powers. It can be done. It wasn’t here. I heard there’s a sequel in development so I’m hoping that maybe now that they’ve gotten the “origin” story out of the way, they can give our 4 more to engage a viewer than just more things to blow up. A textbook case of spectacular without substance.

On the other end of the spectrum, “Good Night and Good Luck” was not much of a spectacle. In fact, it wasn’t much of anything. On reflection, it probably would’ve made a decent magazine article.

A 2-hour movie? Not so much.
Black and white without much of a soundtrack? Even less so.

I found the story so thin and the pacing so plodding that at times I actually found myself nodding off. At least Fantastic Four had spectacle.

So where I’m netting out here is that spectacle can be pure, unadulterated fun. Like I said, I’m open to all kind of movies. I don’t need every one to deliver a message or change my life. Sometimes, you just want a fun ride. The Radio City thing falls in that category. FF probably does too.

But a person can’t live on spectacle alone. And if everything was only spectacle, we’d tire of films very quickly. We need more to stimulate us than a big explosion or 72 legs kicking in unison.

I happy the kids enjoyed tonight’s spectacular. But I also know that they’ve been engaged (in the way that makes them want to watch something over and over) by films that offer more than just spectacle.

Hopefully we as parents, and Hollywood as the supplier of such content, will provide more substantial “meals” that we can share with our kids to balance out the helpings of spectacle. We’ve always heard that everything in moderation is the way to happiness. Maybe the saying is right?

Buying A Ticket

2005-12-29T20:47:00.000-08:00

An aged rabbi goes to temple and prays to God. “I’ve been your humble servant my entire life. Please let me win the lottery.” The next day, he comes back and says “God, I didn’t win. I gave my life to you. Please let me win the lottery.” He comes back again the next day and says “Lord, why? Why won’t you let me win the lottery?” There is a bolt of lightning and a white light. When the smoke clears, a booming voice says “Rabbi, meet me half way here. At least buy a ticket.”

I’ve bought a lottery ticket or two over the years (especially when that Mega Millions goes through the roof) and while I don’t have any expectation of divine intervention to help me win, I still buy it with the mindset that I’ve got just as much chance of winning as anyone else. Why can’t it be me this time?

Yes, ladies and gents. I’m an optimist.

Prepare for the worst but hope for the best. In the lottery example, clearly the odds are against me. But my point is that some people will look at those odds and never bother buying a ticket because, they’ll reason, they’ll never win. Clearly, like the rabbi, they WILL never win unless they take the chance.

I live my life by that principle. Try new things, take chances, swim upstream. While it may be hard work and the odds may be against success, there’s absolutely no chance of success by not even trying.

I’m not sure what makes someone an optimist. Genetics? I doubt it. When I accuse my mother of being a pessimist, she responds “I’m not a pessimist, I’m a realist. And in real life, everything goes wrong.” Clearly, Mom doesn’t play on the optimist team.

I think my Dad was more of a fatalist. He believed that everything happened for a reason. Didn’t get that job you were hoping for? That’s because there’s a better job out there that you’re meant to get. I’m not sure I buy that approach either because it presupposes that your future has already been decided. If that’s the case, no matter what you do, you can’t change your fate. I think you can.

To a certain extent, I believe in self-fulfilling prophecies. If you say you can’t than you can’t. If you say you can, and convince yourself of that fact, then sometimes you can will yourself to actually accomplishing what you set out to do.

Maybe I missed my calling as a high school football coach? Or a motivational speaker? In either case, I’m sure I would’ve been good at it.

Half Full

2005-12-28T20:29:00.000-08:00

2005 came in like a lion, kicking our asses starting on New Year’s Day.

It was the year for things to break, plans to be foiled, loved ones to be lost, and promises to remain unfulfilled. If there was a chance for something to go our way or not, in 2005, the smart money was against us. Being the optimist I am, I kept betting on us.

So here I am at the end of December and the year is still kicking my ass. We undertook a major deal at work that someone in their infinite wisdom determined must be closed by year end.

You don’t need to ask if it has closed yet, do you?

The project started off interesting. I worked with people I didn’t usually interface with, dealt with new subject matters and had an opportunity to raise my profile within the company. Not bad things. But it’s December 28th for God’s sake.

Everyone else has gone away for the holidays. Skiing, the Caribbean, Europe. Some even further. On Tuesday, January 3rd, they’ll all return to work relaxed, rested and ready to take on 2006.

Me? Not so much.

I took last week off for vacation (it was my year to mind the fort between Christmas and New Years so I planned for the week before Christmas). I have 17 vacation days left and they only let you carry over 10. When I planned to take the week, I figured that the deal would HAVE to be done by December 19th. Shoulda known better.

Instead, I was called, emailed, faxed, conferenced, messengered, carrier pigeoned and smoke signaled. Any way they could, they reached me. Let’s just say that when I went in to talk to my boss about vacation time, she told me without asking that she made arrangements with HR to have them carry over all 17 of my days since I worked every single day of my vacation. Hmmm, 17 extra days of vacation. 2006 is starting to look better already.

Speaking of looking better, being the glass half full guy that I am (and needing something positive to keep me going until this deal closes), I figured I would try to find some good things about 2005. Here goes:

- My family is happy and healthy
- I’m more than gainfully employed in a stimulating job
- We have made some new friends
- Monkey Boy learned to ride his bike, play the piano, shoot a basketball
- Peanut is learning to swim, to dance and to read
- I’ve lost weight and kept it off
- MLB has gotten more involved with PTA work and she’s enjoying it
- We took some nice vacations, long weekends and day trips
- Although certain things broke, the repairs we were “forced” to make make the house look better and or more comfortable to live in
- While some doors closed, others opened
- Our expectations were lowered so much by 2005 that I just know 2006 is gonna rock – even if it is helped along by comparison.

With all that to be thankful for, I’ll quit bitching about 2005.

I’ll stop being a baby, shut up and finish my damn deal. And when I’m all done?

I’m gonna quench my thirst with this here half glass of water.

The Power Of Yes

2005-12-27T19:24:00.000-08:00

Last night for Hanukah, we gave the kids books. In past years, we’ve given solely books, figuring that they get so many toys for Christmas, books are an easy thing to buy 8 of, and it freshens up the old bookshelves in just over a week.

Besides, after our first night of the donations (described in my “Best Laid Plans” blog), MLB and I needed a safe evening.

Tonight however, we decided to walk on the wild side again. Thanks to MLB’s creative gift-giving prowess (see “Mary Christmas” blog), she came up with an idea that cost us nothing (except patience) and the kids had a ball.

After lighting the candles and blessing them, we handed each kid an envelope. Of course Monkey Boy’s first reaction was “Are you making us give away money again?”

After assuring him we weren’t (to which he responded he would be OK with adopting more manatees – I think he secretly still aspires to having his name engraved in a plaque on Floyd’s tank), he opened his envelope to reveal Mom and Dad Coupons.

It was a booklet of 5 homemade coupons – 2 redeemable for an extra dessert, 2 redeemable for an extra bedtime story, and 1 redeemable for an extra 15 minutes of television. Monkey Boy read them aloud for Peanut who wasn’t sure she understood the concept.

Since we had just finished dinner and dessert, Monkey immediately ripped out a coupon for extra dessert and helped himself to an extra piece of cake. Clearly, HE understood the concept.

Peanut thought about redeeming one of hers for an extra slice of pumpkin pie (monkey see, monkey do – she’ll usually do what her brother does). But she was really quite full from dinner and the slice she already ate so we talked her out of it.

We hung out for a while after dinner. I played Digimon Rumble on the GameCube with Monkey Boy while MLB played Barbie Fashion Show with Peanut on the computer. Two Christmas presents the kids were dying to play with.

After play time, Peanut was digested enough to start thinking about pumpkin pie again. She forked over one of her dessert coupons and indulged. If Peanut was not getting the concept initially, she was now with the program.

When we herded the kids to bed, instead of protesting and beginning their usual stall tactics, Monkey and Peanut both whipped out their 15 minute TV coupons. They were feeling the power.

After 15 minutes of tube time, we finally got them into bed. Just as I tuck Monkey Boy in, he holds one finger in the air.

“May I get out of bed for a minute?” he asks.

While I was ready for bed myself, I knew what was coming. And he knew I couldn’t say no.

I nodded and he leapt from his bed to his desk where his coupon book lay. He forked over one of his book coupons and away we went into a bedtime story. In the other room, I heard MLB laugh as Peanut pulled the same routine.

After our books, as I tucked Monkey into bed once more, he said “I love these coupons. You guys have to do what the coupon says!”

I’m not sure what lesson was taught tonight. I’m not sure there was one.

One thing’s for sure, now that they’ve had a taste of the power these coupons give them, I’m thinking we go for TWO nights of coupons next year.

Best Laid Plans

2005-12-26T20:56:00.000-08:00

So back in my blog entry entitled “More or Less”, I explained how we were going to experiment with the kids this year and try to have them make a donation somewhere instead of receiving a gift themselves.

Last night was Christmas and the first night of Hanukah. Given that they woke up to a living room stacked with more gifts than “Toys For Tots” collects for the season, we decided that anything we’d give them for Hanukah last night would just become “one more” so we laid our donation plan on them.

After lighting the candles and saying the blessing, we explained how this would work. We gave each kid $25 in cash. Then MLB presented printouts from various charitable donation sites she found that she thought might spark the gift-giving desires within our kids.

There was a site where you could donate money toward educational toys for underprivileged villages in underdeveloped countries. Another where you could donate musical instruments to schools in similar underdeveloped countries. Another would let you buy a family a cow so it (the family) could use it (the cow) for farming and for milking. Still another offered the same gig but let you choose other sorts of livestock and farming/breeding animals.

The one that sparked Monkey Boy’s imagination was an “Adopt-A-Manatee” site (www.savethemanatee.org). He’s a nature and animal lover and all it took was one photo of these gentle, beautiful giants to make him thrust his $25 cash back across the table at us. It was a beautiful moment.

After a little hesitation, Peanut went for the Musical Instruments. She returned her cash and we were cooking with gas.

This morning, Monkey Boy reiterated over breakfast how cool he thought that it was that he was going to adopt a manatee. He wanted to know if he could pick his manatee? Where did it live? Could we visit it? Etc.

So MLB took Monkey upstairs and they went online to try to make his donation and find out more.

Sure enough, they gave lots of photos of manatees and you were able to pick the one you adopted. Monkey picked a big guy named Floyd. Next, he learned that for his $25, he not only would help feed and maintain Floyd, but he’d also get:

-- A photo of his manatee
-- The manatee's biography
-- An adoption certificate
-- A membership handbook
-- Four newsletters throughout the year with updated reports on his adoptee

About this moment, MLB and I exchange a look wondering just how much of this $25 is actually going to find its way to Floyd. He’s a damn big animal. I’m sure he could eat at least $25 of fish and vegetables per day. Nevertheless, in for a penny, in for a pound. So we pushed on.

But then this donation thing took a turn we weren’t expecting.

All of a sudden, Peanut asks: "If Monkey Boy gets all that stuff, what do I get for my donation?" Not a bad question given the context.

After checking out the Musical Instruments site and finding all you get is a receipt for your taxes, we explained that the whole idea wasn’t to GET something for the donation. It was supposed to be about doing something for someone or something else and not yourself. It was to drive home the idea that there were other people and things in the world less fortunate than we were and it’s a good idea, during this time of year when we’re getting so much, to remember these other people and do something, however small, to make the world better for others.

Peanut nodded. I think we almost had her convinced.

That is, until Monkey Boy asked if they were going to engrave his name on a plaque on the tank where Floyd lives.

We explained to Monkey that you’d have to give much more than $25 for them to do something like that. He accepted this answer.

But Peanut decided to drop her plan to donate musical instruments and adopted a manatee named Lily instead.

Just in case.

Happy Festivus!

2005-12-25T18:21:00.000-08:00

Today was quite festive in our house. Christmas and the first night of Hanukah on the same night. How often does that happen?

Since I'm serious suffering from food coma, I thought I might just share a few images of the day.

First up are the menorahs on the traditional Christmas table cloth.

Next is our prized collection of "Santa Claus is Coming To Town" ornaments. These haven't made it onto the tree because the kids have too much fun playing with them.

We're one of those couples who buy ornaments wherever we travel so our tree becomes a travelogue for us.

Our tree fell over earlier this year and we lost some of our dearest, most treasured ornaments.

Of the ones that survived, this is one of my favs since it reminds me of the trip MLB and I took to the Grand Canyon before the kids. We rode the mules down to the bottom of the Canyon and stayed at the Phantom Ranch. I don't think they do the mules these days so we're glad we got to do it when we did.

This chile pepper star is from our trip to San Diego a few years back. A really fun trip and a wonderful city to visit. We were wandering the shops in Old Town one night and spied this ornament. It captured the flavor (pun intended) for us.

Last but not least, here's our happy family in front of the tree.

Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukah to all!

Mary Christmas

2005-12-24T18:10:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned in previous posts, today is MLB’s birthday. Yes, that’s right. Christmas Eve.

“That sucks!”

“What a gyp?!”

Those are usually the kind of responses MLB gets when she tells people when her birthday is.

Most people reason that when your birthday is on the eve of the biggest gift-giving day of the year, odds are people will just give you a COMBO gift – “It’s a Birthday/Christmas present.” So when everyone else collects two gifts for the two occasions, the birthday girl only gets one.

That might be the case in some families, but not in MLB’s. They’ve always been very strict about NOT combining the two holidays. In fact, the 24th is EXCLUSIVELY MLB’s birthday until evening when they go to Christmas Eve mass. Cards and presents are given, Happy Birthday is sung, cake is eaten. It’s just like her birthday is on some random day.

But what I’ve come to learn over time is that MLB IS Christmas Eve. She so takes the season and the holiday to heart that I jokingly call her “Mary Christmas” this time of year. From ornaments, to wrap, to cards, to trees, to baking. This holiday is so much a part of who she is, I’d swear she was a long lost elf if not for the fact that she’s 5 foot 9.

While she may not have a little North Pole workshop for making gifts, she does have an extraordinary knack for finding the perfect gift for each person.

Some people sweat this time of year mercilessly. What do I get for my mother? What do I get for the kids? What do I get for the person who has everything? It’s torture for them. They dread it.

Not so for MLB. She’s so incredibly gifted (pun intended) at gift-giving, I keep telling her that she should write a book on the subject. I’ve seen “gift suggestion” books in the Barnes & Noble but none of them offer the creativity that comes so naturally to MLB.

Here’s just an example: I’m a huge movie buff. One year for Hanukah, MLB got me eight t-shirts from different film festivals around the world. She planned this for a year, calling each festival around the time it occurred and ordering over the phone. Sundance, Berlin, Hamptons, Nantucket. To get the Cannes Film Festival shirt, she tracked down by phone some guy in a tent on a beach in France. Only problem, he didn’t take credit cards. After explaining this project she was working on for me, she convinced this guy to ship her the t-shirt from France with an invoice and she would (and did) later send him payment.

She knows better than anyone the pleasure of catching someone by surprise with a gift. It’s exactly what they wanted even though they didn’t consciously know they wanted it. If there isn’t a little Santa’s magic at work there, I don’t know what it is.

In any case, because MLB is this way, we all try just a little harder to come up with something special for her when this time of year rolls around.

Happy Birthday, MLB. Hope you liked your birthday present AND what Santa leaves for you by the tree.

A Good Person

2005-12-23T19:45:00.000-08:00

Today is my Dad’s birthday. He would’ve been 72. Dad’s been gone almost 16 years already. Cancer.

So on this day, I thought it appropriate to remember him here. There are lots of great, funny stories I can tell. We laughed a lot together.

Looking back, I think I classify my relationship with my Dad in three phases.
First was purely as THE TEACHER. This period ran from birth until I was 14. Dad was a teacher and he taught me lots of things throughout my life. While lots of life lessons were taught, I also fondly recall him teaching me to ride my bike, to play tennis, and to play the basketball game HORSE out on the driveway.

Second stage was as ONE OF THE GUYS. I have two brothers, one older, one younger. During the summer of 1980, the four “men” of the family traveled cross country and back by car for 7 weeks. Mom’s job only let her take 2 weeks of vacation so she flew out and met us mid-trip for that period. During that trip, a father and his 3 pubescent boys became FRIENDS. I’m not saying we didn’t have a good relationship with him during THE TEACHER years, it’s just that we had never spent 24/7 with each other for that long ever before (or ever since). It was an adventure – and rather than feeling he needed to “mature” us during that trip, Dad allowed himself (and us) to just be guys. There were baseball games, whitewater rafting trips and fart jokes. We talked, sang, argued and laughed. It was an amazing time and it changed our relationship with my Dad forever.

The third stage was as a PEER. Unfortunately, just as we were getting started with this stage, Dad’s illness went into overdrive. I graduated college and for the first time in my life, had a full time job, responsibilities. My conversations with Dad were changing. We were exploring and feeling out the new phase of our relationship as two adults. We talked about life, about the future (mostly mine). It was an exciting time for me and this new phase promised to be very rich. Dad’s death unfortunately cut this phase short and I often wonder today if he were still around how he would react to things, situations and people in my life.

While I’ve always enjoyed writing, which was encouraged by both my parents since I was little, I attribute Dad with turning me on to reading more mature books. While I read lots as a younger kid, I wasn’t reading many non-school mandated books as a young adult. Dad was a voracious reader. He had a book with him wherever he went. In the evenings when he was home, we’d often find him in the living room sipping a scotch and pouring through his latest novel. Dad even took a year’s sabbatical from teaching to try his hand at writing a novel.

When I was in 7th grade I think, Dad handed me “The Dead Zone” by Stephen King.

“Read it”, he said, “I think you’ll like it.”

Dubious, I took it anyway and gave it a shot. It changed what I thought about books. To this day I’ve read virtually everything King has written. I found lots of other favorite authors along the way as well.

When Dad died, we found he had been in the middle of Stephen King’s “The Dark Half”. The bookmark was still in the book. I took that one and read it but always left the bookmark in Dad’s spot. It wasn’t until years later during one of my many moves that I realized the bookmark must’ve fallen out. While not all of King’s novels are great, I still read them all. For me and Dad.

So I hope that anyone out there reading will join me in wishing Dad a happy birthday today. I know he knows we’re thinking of him.

Dad was truly a good person. That’s why we had those words inscribed on his headstone.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

Bob The Builder

2005-12-22T19:16:00.000-08:00

I’ve never been a Bob. Always Rob, Robert (when Mom gets mad at me) or Robbie (from those who knew me as a kid). Maybe that’s why I don’t share Bob’s famous building skills.

Admission #173 – I’m not handy.

There, I said it. I’m just not. On most things, MLB is way handier than I am.

Of course, she’ll read this and say “That’s not true, dear. You’re handy.” I love her for saying stuff like that to bolster my wounded male ego but I know it’s not true. I think she also says it because if she doesn’t, I’ll quit trying.

It’s a few days before Christmas. Why the rant about handiness?

As I type, I have two bloody fingers wrapped in bandaids, a big splinter in my left palm and a gash in my right wrist that I didn’t even notice until 5 minutes ago.

How’d I get the injuries? Putting an addition on the house? Building a sleigh for Santa? Nope. I mounted some framed pictures on the wall and hung some pre-fab shelves from IKEA.

Lame, I know.

My Big Brother is handy. He’s so handy he gets tagged hanging all the stuff my Mom ever wants hung in her house. (Hey, maybe there’s some upside to this non-handiness.)

My Brother-in-Law is Mr. Handy. He’s a contractor and has a work truck loaded with more tools than the local Sears. Whenever I get in a jam (usually at 10pm on a Sunday night), I call him to talk me through shutting off the gas line or doing something else to save the family from Rob-inflicted peril.

I have no excuse. So I’ll blame my parents.

My Dad wasn’t especially handy. At least not that I recall. He was pretty good with car maintenance (another gene passed along only to Big Bro). But overall, handiness wasn’t a trait prized, valued, nurtured in my family. Maybe it’s the Jewish thing again but school and studying were the major priorities in our house (both my folks were teachers at some point in their careers).

Biology? Get to work.

Metal shop? Must you?

I think the theory was always that if you study really hard and become successful, you’ll always have the dough to PAY someone to do the things you can’t do yourself. I frequently tell MLB that I’d rather pay someone to DO a house project rather than paying them to DO IT OVER after I’ve tried and failed.

There’s always the odd chance that I’ll get it right and we’ll save both time and money.

But really, let’s be honest. How frequently does that happen?

Trainspotting

2005-12-21T18:03:00.000-08:00

If you ever find yourself in the New York area during the holiday season, you must (MUST I SAY) check out the New York Botanical Garden Holiday Train Show.

Trains, you say? Yes, I say.

I'm not train buff or fan myself but trains are just a way to get people to the Botanical Gardens. The show is a spectacular display of New York City landmarks created ENTIRELY from plant materials.

The Statue of Liberty with her gown made of corn husks.

The majestic Brooklyn Bridge made of branches, vines and twigs.

When you look at these lovely recreations and actually SEE what you're looking at (acorns, flowers, orange slices) you'll see it really is a creative masterpiece.

I led Monkey Boy's Cub Scout Pack through a tour there last Sunday and even 7 year olds found it cool.

If you get a chance to see it, don't miss it.

Not A Day Over

2005-12-20T18:01:00.000-08:00

[Experiencing technical problems]

A Star is Born

2005-12-19T20:20:00.000-08:00

Last night was Monkey Boy's first piano recital.

When you've only been taking lessons for four months, "recital" is a bit of an overstatement. Monkey Boy's performance was to consist of that modern classic masterpiece "Cuckoo" -- sixty seconds of harmonious bliss. It also holds the distinction of being the first piece Monkey Boy learned where his left hand is doing something different than his right hand.

Not so easy.

And while Monkey practiced dutifully with MLB every night after dinner for weeks, he always stumbled at this one part.

Over and over.
Once more from the top.
Now just the left hand.
Then just the right hand.
Now together.

We were all hearing Cuckoo in our sleep leading up to the big day.

Saturday was a rehearsal at the church where the recital was to be held. In the car on the way over there, Monkey Boy (who was nursing a 102 degree fever) was psyched. Even if his body was under duress, he assured me he was ready, able and mentally prepared for the challenge before him.

But when we got into the room, all of his confidence turned to nervous energy. Other kids and parents started to arrive and Monkey Boy realized we weren't in the living room any more, Toto.

Being one of the youngest and newest students, Monkey Boy was called up to play first. He nervously sat. Then he was asked to stand again and bow the way the teacher had just told them all.

Finally, he sat back down and began to play --

THE WRONG NOTES

He started with his hands in the wrong position so what came out was just plain wrong. He and everyone else in the room knew it. (Did I mention the poor kid had a fever?)

The teacher stopped him from playing, helped his hands find the right starting notes, and he began again. At this point his confidence was shot. He played tentatively, softly, and darn it -- got stuck in that same rough spot he always gets stuck on.

It was not a stellar moment.

In the car going home, I reminded him this was his first recital, he had a fever, the sun was in his eyes, etc.

Cut to the next day.

We made him take a nice long nap in the afternoon. For those of you who aren't familiar, 7 year old boys don't nap, so the fact that he willingly took a nap should give you an idea of how crummy he was feeling.

After his nap, we fed him dinner, he took a nice hot shower, put on his "fancy" clothes including a nifty gray clip-on tie. He looked like a million bucks.

In the car over there, we reminded him how hard he worked and we told him how proud we were that he had come this far. He was quiet, pensive.

We go into the church and some violinists were warming up (this teacher has both piano and violin students perform at this recital together). Monkey Boy and Peanut sat and watched quietly. The room began to fill.

Finally, the teacher welcomed everyone and announce the first performer. A young boy who wasn't at rehearsal the day before. Suddenly Monkey Boy looked at me with a panicked expression. "I have to pee!"

I grabbed his hand and led him to the back of the church. We saw a young boy (older than Monkey) standing in the hall outside a "single serve" bathroom.

"Is this the only bathroom?" I ask.
"I think so" says the other boy.

From inside the hall, we hear the first performer begin to play. Monkey Boy's stress is visible on his face.

A woman comes out of the restroom. I explain to the older boy that Monkey Boy will "go on" before him and ask if Monkey can use the john first. The older boy senses Monkey's tension and agrees.

Monkey Boy does his business, washes his hands. He comes out and smiles at me.

Cue the Rocky music.

He grabs my hand and I lead him back into the auditorium. No sooner do we sit down than the teacher calls his name as the next peformer.

He rushes up to the piano and sits down. Just like the day before, the teacher makes him get back up and take a bow. He does and sits again. The teacher tells the room that Monkey will play that modern classic masterpiece "Cuckoo". Then he turns to Monkey Boy and nods for him to begin.

Monkey Boy does -- and plays every freakin' note PERFECTLY!

It was smooth, clear, forceful. Sixty seconds of absolute bliss.

When the piece was over MLB and I restarted breathing. Monkey Boy stood, smiled radiantly, bowed once more and took his seat again. Peanut gave him a huge hug and a kiss. As did we.

His feet didn't touch the ground the rest of the evening.

As we're leaving the church later, he tells us he wasn't even afraid. He pretended he was playing for us in the living room.

And now that he had done this, he was thinking that maybe he would try out for a play at school.

Oh yes, my friends. Yesterday, a star was born.

Shoes for Boys

2005-12-18T06:11:00.000-08:00

As a general matter, I dislike shoes.

We don’t wear shoes in the house. Whenever I’m home, I’m either barefoot or have a pair of slippers on (mainly in the winter when the floors get chilly).

Shoe buying is the most boring kind of shopping I know, and it usually involves pain. With the exception of slippers, most shoes I ever recall buying hurt when first purchased. After several wearings and bandaided heals, toes, whatever, usually you can break them in (although I’ve often wondered if they’re really actually breaking in your foot rather than the other way around) so you’re at the point of tolerance.

When I was a kid, I distinctly remember my entire footwear inventory being comprised of the following:

1) Black shoes (for times when I needed to be dressy, e.g., parties, temple, weddings, bar mitzvahs)

2) Sneakers (for anything and everything else)

So simple.

OK, you can probably add to that the seasonal pair of soccer cleats and snow boots. But honesty, that was it.

When I reached into my closet for some footwear yesterday, I was momentarily struck by how much this had changed. I now have:

Slippers
Sneakers
“Boat” sneakers (thinner and more lightweight, used mainly for biking in the morning)
Black casual shoes (older and newer)
Brown casual shoes (older and newer)
Brown loafer-types
Black “dress” shoes (2 pair)
Sandals
“Water” shoes (that stretchy black material)
“Walking” shoes (LL Bean or something)

How did this happen? When did this happen?

When I went downstairs, I found more!

Brown hiking boots
“Duck” shoes (for the really wet weather)
Timberland “work” boots
Old sneakers (for gardening, lawn work)

Again I wonder, how did this happen? Who let all these shoes into the house?

As I ponder this, my guess is that the Invasion of the Shoes (SAVE YOURSELF) was probably led by a search for more comfort.

And I must admit that with the advance of “business casual” in recent years, the shoe world (within the larger, global World Of Rob) has gotten a bit better for men. In honesty and fairness, I must give a shout out to Skechers for making some of the most comfortable “business casual” mens’ shoes I’ve ever worn. Dare I say it? Many of their shoes are actually comfortable from the first moment you try them on.

So if you come by the house and we ask you to take off your shoes when you come in, I hope you’ll understand that the request, as Dr. Freud would likely tell you, is a manifestation of my deep-seeded resentment of shoes.

Oh, and we also prefer to keep the floors clean.

The Quiet Time

2005-12-17T12:01:00.000-08:00

Hold on for a sec.
Could someone please answer the phone?
I can’t now, I’m late for a meeting.
I’ll get that to you this afternoon.
Who’s supposed to be answering my phone?
Sorry, what was that?
Tuesday’s no good, how’s Thursday?
Take a message.
You need it by close of business???

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Do you ever feel like there’s too much life in your life? I like my job and my life in general. There are just times when it starts to overwhelm me.

But you know what I’ve found helps keep me sane these days?

The Quiet Time.

Every morning (at least Monday through Friday), my alarm goes off at 5:30am. I leap out of bed to silence it. MLB usually rolls over and slides right back into REM sleep.

I grab my sneaks and tip-toe downstairs into the den to ride my exercise bike. It’s a brutal routine at times. But do you have any idea how quiet it is at 5:30 in the morning?

As I sit on the sofa lacing my sneakers, I frequently stop just to listen.

Rain falling this morning.
The furnace just kicked on.
I can even make out the swollen stream next to the house rushing by.

And that’s it.

No birds this time of year but I don’t mind them when they’re around. I consider them part of the quiet.

When I hop on my bike, I usually click on the TV. It helps distract me from my task. But when the riding’s over and I get on the floor to stretch, I shut it off again.

And the Quiet Time resumes.

After the exercise, my heavier breathing adds sound to the room. So does my thumping heartbeat.

Another hour or so and I’m back to the cacophony of the city. But that’s cool. My next Quiet Time is just 20 hours away.

Good Riddance

2005-12-16T07:36:00.000-08:00

An end of the year meme I got from a friend. Some of my answers surprised even me.

1. What did you do in 2005 that you'd never done before? We visited Oregon, my first time in the Pacific Northwest. We went camping with our kids.

2. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year? For the first time in forever, I actually did. I lost 25 pounds and have kept it off for 6 months so far. I’ve already made some new ones.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? Two of my sisters-in-law's siblings had their first children.

4. Did anyone close to you die? Unfortunately, yes. MLB lost her father in May. I lost my grandmother in February.

5. What countries did you visit? I didn't visit any other countries this year.

6. What would you like to have in 2006 which you lacked in 2005? A shower that doesn’t leak. More organization in my life. More “down” time to the extent such a thing still exists.

7. What date from 2005 will remain etched in your memory, and why? May 3rd. It’s the date on which MLB lost her father. In addition to helping her through her grief, we had to tell the kids their grandfather was gone.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Finishing rewrites on my optioned script so I can finally move on to something else.

9. What was your biggest failure? Not doing some essential repairs/organization at home.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? I remained fairly healthy this year (knock wood), except for a few bad colds.

11. What was the best thing you bought? A new bed. It’s amazing how much better we’re sleeping ever since.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? MLB, my kids, my manager, Hurricane Katrina relief workers.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Our government. Our President. My town Supervisor. The people and corporations that used Hurricane Katrina for crime, mischief and/or financial gain.

14. Where did most of your money go? I wish I knew. My guess is taxes, the mortgage, car payments, etc. – general living expenses.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? My script was getting read by agents for some A-list stars and directors. Monkey Boy learned to ride his bike. Peanut started reading. Going to Disney World last February.

16. What song will always remind you of 2005? Everything from Rob Thomas’ Something To Be album.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: Happier or sadder? Thinner or fatter? Richer or poorer? I'm happier because 2005 is over. 2005 was really rough personally and professionally. I’m hopeful for better things in 2006. I’m significantly thinner (shed 25 pounds this year) and feeling more energetic and healthier because I’m working out 5 days a week. I guess richer than last year even though we were hit with a number of significant house expenses this year.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of? Writing. Rewrites on my optioned script were so draining that 2005 is the first year in the past 4 that I didn’t complete a new script. Spending time with MLB and the kids. I fortunately get to spend a good amount of quality time with them but it’s like crack to me. I always want more.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of? Losing my patience. It kills me when I yell at the kids for doing what kids do.

20. How will you be spending Christmas? At my house with MLB, the kids, my Mom and MLB’s Mom and brother. It will be small but magical. Monkey Boy just learned the “secret” of Santa this year but a big part of him still wants to believe. Peanut is completely and blissfully innocent when it comes to Santa. They’re counting down the days.

21. Did you fall in love in 2005? I fall in love with MLB every year. I know it sounds SO corny but I swear on my life it’s true.

22. What was your favorite TV program? Lost and The West Wing. Great writing, great characters. Definitely appointment TV.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year? No, I still hate everyone equally. Just kidding. I don’t think I can say I “hate” anyone.

24. What was the best book you read? State of Fear by Michael Crichton. I only got to read a handful of books this year (assuming you’re talking about the hand of someone on the bomb squad) but this was the best. It wasn’t my favorite of Crichton’s books but you’ve got to give the guy credit for the work he puts into his books. Whether you agree with his theories or not, they never fail to make you think.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery? The Garden State soundtrack.

26. What did you want and get? I wanted to take some fun vacations and I did. Even a weekend away feels like a vacation sometimes.

27. What did you want and not get? A break. Lots of things seemed to break, wear out, get lost, not work out this year. From one thing on New Year’s Day to the next and the next and the next. It was a year of dealing with problem after problem (and some are still not done being dealt with).

28. What was your favorite film of this year? Wedding Crashers was pure unadulterated fun. Revenge of the Sith was a very satisfying ending to the Star Wars saga. I loved watching my kids watch (and later quote) Madagascar. I also think Brokeback Mountain was exceptionally well done.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old did you turn? I turned 39, but at the moment can’t really recall what I did.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? To have my screenplay set up somewhere. Maybe in 2006.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2005? Comfortable. Sweaters, turtlenecks, khakis, jeans and button down shirts.

32. What kept you sane? MLB. She is my rock. And the kids too – they always help me keep things in perspective.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Can’t say I really fancied anyone this year. MLB is a huge Oprah fan and I do admire the things Oprah has done to help others.

34. What political issue stirred you the most? The war in Iraq. I still can’t figure out what the plan is (assuming there even is one). Also, the bungled handling of Katrina victims. What a mess.

35. Whom did you miss? My dad. He’s been gone 15 years but I think of him often when I’m with my kids, knowing how much he would eat them up if he had lived long enough to see them.

36. Who was the best new person you met? The new head of my department on the corporate level. He’s smart, tough but also a very decent human being. Most people lose the “decent” when they get to his level.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2005: Always do your best. It never fails to surprise and impress others. Even if it doesn’t bring external rewards, the internal rewards pay dividends.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: “The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time.”

Big Foot, Loch Ness and the Holocaust

2005-12-15T06:23:00.000-08:00

In a speech yesterday, Iran’s President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad (nice name) made oodles of new friends when he called the Holocaust a “myth”. That follows his statement in October that Israel should be “wiped off the map”. I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m guessing Mahmoud (mind if I call you Mahmoud?) won’t celebrate Hanukah later this month.

In the same breath, this guy asked please, pretty please, won’t the United Nations let us build weapons-grade nuclear material? We won’t use it for actual weapons. We just want to power atomic reactors to make electricity so we can watch Dick Clark drop the bomb, er, ball on Times Square on New Year’s Eve.

Actually, considering this guy also said about the West “we hate your hollow civilization” I’m thinking he’s probably gonna skip Rockin’ New Year’s Eve this year (unless, of course, they have Kelly Clarkson on the show. That girl has spunk!)

In one of the few instances of the Dubya administration saying something I agree with, the White House issued a statement saying that Iran developing nuclear weapons is probably a bad idea. Germany, one of three EU countries which have been leading U.S.-backed nuclear talks to reign in Iran’s proposed nuclear program, called Mahmoud’s statements "shocking and unacceptable."

While some Iranians have expressed the view that Mahmoud might want to take it easy on the “myth” rhetoric and “wiping countries off the map” business given what just happened to their neighbors in Iraq, Iran’s supreme leader Ayatollah Khamenei, stood by his homeboy Mahmoud and called for Palestinian militants to step up their fight to drive Israelis out of Jerusalem. Anyone for a nice peaceful game of dreidel? Anyone?

Just when there was hope that things might settle down in the Middle East, this knucklehead starts mouthing off. I can’t help but feel that when you’ve got a president of a country intentionally making outrageous and inflammatory comments, it’s not going to resolve itself with egg nog and caroling at the Ayatollah’s house on Christmas Eve.

Before you know it, “weapons of mass destruction” will become the most searched term on Google again and Dubya will use it as a way to get his brother into the White House in 2008.

Nothing good will come of this. I know the Holocaust is no myth, but maybe peace and stability in the Middle East is.

Better Late Than Never

2005-12-14T07:34:00.000-08:00

Oh, hi. Sorry, I’m late.

That’s getting to be a bit of a habit for me lately. My whole life I’ve been punctual. If I were meeting you somewhere, I’d be the guy who’d show up 5 minutes early just so I wouldn’t keep you waiting. In school, I’d be the one to get to class early. Get a good seat, catch my breath, gab with my friends, read a magazine. It was a pretty good system.

In the case of meeting someone, I always viewed it as being respectful of the other person. Why should you have to wait for me? If we agree on a time, we’re both adults. We should do what we need to do to be there at the designated time. No sweat, right?

It would piss me off when certain friends were habitually late. Sure, things happen. But when it is a recurring pattern throughout our lives, it’s clear that either (a) you don’t have your act together, or (b) you think your time is more important than mine. To this day, I know that when I’ve arranged to meet certain people at 1:00, I don’t have to bother showing up until 1:10 and even then, I’ll wait for 5 minutes.

Much to my chagrin, somehow over these past few years, it’s been harder and harder for me to get places on time.

The kids are part of it. Inevitably, someone needs to go to the bathroom one more time, drops a glove somewhere, needs help tying a shoe or putting a seatbelt on. After realizing we were constantly rushing the kids out of the house, stressing them and us out, MLB and I decided to try to be proactive about this. We usually factor in an extra 15 minutes whenever we need to leave to get somewhere to allow for these kinds of delays. You’d think that would suffice.

It doesn’t.

And while I think the kids are part of it, I can’t really blame them when I’m by myself and I’m late. There’s always one more thing to do. One more call to make. One more email to send.

As I consider this, I think it’s probably because I try to cram 65-70 minutes into every hour. It’s kind of like convincing yourself that if you fold a map over on itself, you’ll get to your destination sooner. It’s a nice idea but doesn’t really work.

It’s a little disease I have called the inability to say “no”. (More on that another time.) Suffice to say that like many people these days, I’m so overcommitted that things will need to slide from time to time, until there’s a 25th (or 26th or 30th would be really nice) hour added to each day.

So if I’m meeting you, I promise to try not to be late. If I am, please don’t take it as disrespect. Consider it the opposite. I’m letting something else slide while I come meet you.

And I promise not to hold it against you if you show up at 1:15.

Freakiness

2005-12-13T07:29:00.000-08:00

The weather is starting to creep me out.

Years ago we heard all those warnings about global warming. Did it get any warmer? Not that I could tell.

But this past year has been pretty freaky. From devastating tsunamis, to powerful and extended hurricanes to wacky tornado patterns. Not that there are many GOOD tsunamis, hurricanes or tornados. It’s just that they’ve been SO bad this year.

We had two solid weeks of rain in late July. My toes were starting to web.

It was over 70 degrees a few weeks ago in New York. It’s not supposed to be 70 degrees in November.

I recently read Michael Crichton’s book “State of Fear” in which he debunks the “myth” of global warming. Yes, I know the book is fiction, but it’s also chock full of footnotes to various scientific studies and texts. His arguments are compelling. Maybe global warming really is a load of crap.

What isn’t crap is all the extended weather freakiness. I’d blame it on George Bush if I could but I haven’t found a logical link there (yet). It’s gotta be something.

Did we piss Mother Nature off in some way? Maybe it’s pollution? Or all the cell phones? Maybe Mother Nature’s going through menopause?

After several years of mild winters with relatively little snow, the past few years have increased in intensity. We had something like 11 full-scale snow storms last winter. We just had our first storm last Friday and it has me seriously wondering what this winter in the year of weather freakiness has in store for us.

Snow blower? Check.

Shovels? Check.

Salt? Check.

I’m all set.

But just in case I think I’ll power down my cell phone for a while.

More or Less

2005-12-12T06:30:00.000-08:00

Is it possible to have too much?

I’m not talking about money. I guess it’s not possible to have too much money because you can always give that away.

I grew up in a middle class suburb of New York City. We always had enough to eat, our clothes were not holey (although as the second of 3 brothers, I wore my share of hand-me-downs – at least I wasn’t the third one to get them like my little bro was). We had lots of home birthday parties but were more than happy with them. We took family vacations – maybe not to Europe but we had lots of fun trips together. The point is, we didn’t necessarily have the latest this, or the newest that, but we didn’t care.

I look at my kids and their friends and it amazes me how much these kids have today. Playrooms overflowing with toys, shelves bursting with books, more clothes than they can wear out before they grow out of them. These kids go with their families to Vail for ski vacations, rent houses in Italy for a week, etc. The only place I ever flew to on a plane as a kid was Florida because my grandparents lived there. Other than a driving trip to Montreal one year, I never stepped foot outside of the United States until I was in college.

One thing I want to clarify here is that with few exceptions, my kids and their friends don’t really seem to ASK for stuff. It would be one thing if these kids were constantly nagging and begging for the latest, newest, best. But it’s more that parents and family members are just constantly giving.

Every parent wants their children to have things they never had. But are we sending the wrong message? Are we instilling in our kids an appreciation of what they have? How can these kids understand what it’s like not to have when they don’t even need to ask to have things showered upon them?

There are signs of hope. Monkey Boy’s friend recently turned 8 and on his birthday party invitations, asked people to bring a donation to Katrina Relief instead of a present. I’m sure it wasn’t the kid’s idea but I think he was OK with it. Mom and Dad convinced him he didn’t need 15 more board games or PlayStation cartridges. They promised they’d take care of him with a nice present. And you know what, that kid collected more than $750 for Katrina Relief. Not bad for an 8-year-old.

MLB and I are working on this too. We donate to charities. Before the kids were born, we used to volunteer at a soup kitchen periodically. When Monkey Boy and Peanut get a bit older, we’re going to try to start that up again. We work with our kids to donate toys and clothes when they grow out of them. This year, for one of the nights of Hanukah, we’re going to let the kids choose between several different charities to make a donation in lieu of receiving a present.

I’m glad we can afford nice things. I think we’re very fortunate. I just fear what happens to all of these kids when they grow up. Once they’ve been ingrained with an expectation that things will shower upon them, what are the consequences if/when it stops?

If we give them less, will they love us less? I sincerely doubt it. In fact, they may value the things they have, and the lessons we teach them, more.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Room

2005-12-11T14:12:00.000-08:00

Clean your room. Wash your face. Change your shirt. Think about the countless times you heard this as a kid.

What’s this obsession with cleanliness all about? Don’t panic. I shower daily and tend not to wear clothes more than twice before washing them. I grew up just fine.

Except that now that I’m a parent, suddenly I hear the same words come out of my mouth to my kids. Why? I tell myself that it’s because I want my kids to be clean and healthy. I want them to look presentable. I also know that if they don’t clean up whatever it is, I’m gonna have to do it.

But while all of these are good reasons by themselves, I think there’s a more basic truth at the core of these kinds of commands. Parents make kids do this stuff BECAUSE THEY CAN.

Follow me here. Want to watch TV? Go clean your room first. Want dessert after dinner? Better clear the table and load the dishwasher. Want to go to Timmy’s birthday party? Better go wax the car. OK, Monkey Boy is 7 years old so I’ll have to wait another year or two before I can have him wax the car. Peanut is only 4 so the dishwasher is already pushing it. But you can see where I’m going with this.

As a parent, I have ABSOLUTE POWER. How freakin’ beautiful is that? Don’t worry. I try to be fair. MLB is always there to whip me into shape if I’m not. It’s not overparenting. I’m teaching them valuable lessons in cause and effect. Actions and consequences. Making choices.

And because I can. Bwah-hah-hah.

Festival of Lights

2005-12-10T11:57:00.000-08:00

Hanukah is traditionally known as the “Festival of Lights”. We light our menorah every night for 8 nights, adding one new candle until the big bon fire finale on the last night. My kids, Monkey Boy and Peanut, alternate nights deciding what color candles to put in the menorah. Monkey Boy likes to alternate colors – red, blue, green, white – occasionally really mixing our holidays by using alternating red and green candles. Peanut prefers to pick all the same color on her nights – usually yellows and pinks until “her colors” run out.

It occurred to me last night while driving home from the train station that the name “Festival of Lights” probably more appropriately belongs to Christmas. Drive around the suburbs in December and you’ll see I’m right. Some neighborhoods are so festive they turn night into day. (Good thing we’re not having an energy crisis.)

Don’t get me wrong, I like the lights. Even the house on the corner with the weedy lawn looks festive dressed in glowing multicolors. Though I must admit I’m not a huge fan of the twinkling lights. They make my brain hurt. Some houses have so many patterns twinking in different directions, I’m half positive I’ll come down with Tourette’s Syndrome just watching them.

Yes, lights are as much a part of Christmas as they are Hanukah. I just don’t love putting lights on the tree. Weaving in and out the branches, the sap Crazy Gluing the light strands to your palms, making sure you’ve got equal light distribution top to bottom and left to right. It’s downright stressful. Fortunately, MLB recognized several years ago that I lack the Christmas light gene and has been pretty accommodating. She can do the whole tree in less than an hour with perfect light distribution. I still usually get the task of stringing lights along the post and rail fence that lines the front of our property, but at least that’s in a straight line and only requires the deft turn of a twisty tie every 2-3 feet.

At the moment the fence lights are strung but I can’t get the damn thing to light up. Hope I get a non-freezing day this weekend to go down the fence looking for bad bulbs. In either case, it looks like that darn Christmas light gene deficiency strikes again.

There’s something to be said for the low-tech beauty of eight candles in a menorah. Even I can light a match.

A best of
holidailies exceptional entry.

Numero Uno

2005-12-09T09:33:00.000-08:00

My friend, Nic, recently wrote in her blog about making homemade Chicago-style deep-dish pizza (wish I knew how to embed links but I don’t so you’ll just have to click on the link for Nicolle on the right). Her account was full of photos and totally got me craving pizza (damn you, Nic, for not including the recipe). That craving led to a little deep thinking on the subject.

I’m sure I’m not the first person to reach this conclusion but pizza is, hands down, THE perfect food.

Nutritionally, it’s got your breads, fruits, vegetables and dairy covered. Add some meatballs, pepperoni or, dare I say it, bacon, and you’ve got the meat food group in there as well. And the olive oil is good for your heart. It’s a whole meal in a triangle!

It’s extremely versatile. What other food do you know that can be made with any kind of vegetable (mushrooms, garlic, eggplant, broccoli), any kind of meat (beef, pork, fish, foul, shellfish), and virtually anything else (pasta, corn flakes). Plus, the most amazing combinations seem to work on a pizza. Bacon and onion? Ham and pineapple? Garbage pizza with everything but the kitchen sink? Don’t knock it ‘til you try it. There’s regular pizza, breakfast pizzas (bacon & eggs, corn flakes), dessert pizzas with chocolate and fruit.

Just layer on the sauce, lots of cheese and anything else you can think of. Pizza is even good cold the next morning.

It’s also so convenient. Grab a slice and go. Eat it like a New Yorker by folding the slice in half lengthwise and you don’t even need a plate or a napkin. Utensils? Who needs ‘em. Pizza is downright ingenius.

Best of all, pizza is FREAKIN’ DELICIOUS! Kids, teens, adults, old folks – everyone loves pizza. What’s not to love? I looked it up and Americans eat approximately 100 acres of pizza each day or about 350 slices PER SECOND. That’s a shitload of pizza.

Some other neat facts:

-- On average, each American consumes 23 pounds or 46 slices of pizza each year (I’m way over my share).
-- The most popular topping is pepperoni, accounting for 36% of all pizza orders.
-- Pizza is a $30+ BILLION per year industry.
-- There are approximately 70,000 pizzerias in the U.S. (that’s 17% of all restaurants!)
-- Approximately 3 BILLION pizzas are sold each year in the U.S.

It’s an international hit too! Some favorite worldwide pizza toppings:

-- India: pickled ginger, minced mutton and “paneer” (a form of cottage cheese)
-- Japan: mayonnaise, potato and bacon together; eel and squid
-- Brazil: green peas
-- Russia: “mockba” - a combination of sardines, tuna, mackerel, salmon and onion (Tic tac, anyone?)
-- Pakistan: curry (big surprise)
-- Australia: shrimp and pineapple
-- Costa Rica: coconut (I thought they were just big meatballs!)

And did you ever notice how pizza has this amazing way of always smelling appetizing any time. You could’ve just eaten a 9 course meal at the city’s top restaurant. If you stroll by a pizza place and get a whiff, you know you want some. As full as you are, there’s always room for a slice.

If you’re like me, you’re totally jonesing for a hot slice of heaven by now. I know what I’m having for lunch.

Look, Ma. No Hands!

2005-12-08T06:10:00.000-08:00

There’s something wonderful about the minds of children (and writers) that allow them to take the simplest of subjects and see it in a new light. Most people spend their lives taking things at face value, as presented. But kids tend to pick something up, turn it upside down, try to wear it on their heads, make it talk, etc. I’m constant amazed at the things they come up with.

I’m one of the leaders of Monkey Boy’s Cub Scout den and at a meeting the other night, this phenomenon visited upon us. The other leaders and I were leading a discussion about simple First Aid. Now we’re not talking tourniquets and splints, mind you – these are 7-year-old boys. Before we knew it, they’d be applying tourniquets left and right, losing circulation and limbs. Who wants that kind of liability? No, we were talking about washing and dressing a simple cut.

When one of the other leaders mentions that it’s a good idea to wash your hands before treating your own or anyone else’s injury, Monkey Boy blurts out “What if you don’t have any hands?”

Before you could say “bandaid”, the rest of the boys seized on this idea and the conversation quickly jumped the rails.

“You’d have to do first aid with your feet.”
“You could use your teeth.”
“Or your nose”
“Yeah, but what if you had hooks?”
“On your nose?”
“No, instead of hands”
“Cool, or lobster claws?”
“Yeah!” (The boys start miming lobster claws on each other)
“Or alien hands?”

Now I have no idea what alien hands are, but somewhere between lobster claws and the alien hands, the other fathers and I went from trying to restore order to completely losing it. The entire group, kids and dads, were laughing so hard tears streaked our faces.

I’m not sure they’ll remember the first aid lesson but we sure will. And the amazing minds of children.

Tis The Season

2005-12-07T06:10:00.000-08:00

Something about December. No matter what kind of crummy day I may have had, I inevitably find myself humming Frosty, Rudolph or one of the other songs of the season as I walk through Rockefeller Center on the way to the train station at night. What’s a nice Jewish boy from New York know about Christmas? Plenty. My Lovely Bride (MLB) is Catholic and over our past 13 and a half years of marital bliss (plus extra time while we were courting), I’ve been exposed to more Christmas than you can shake a mistletoe sprig at.

I freakin’ love Christmas. I mean, come on. I grew up thinking we Jews had it made with 8 presents, one per night (although in my family, that evolved to 2-3 big presents, then to 1 really expensive one, then finally to a check delivered weeks into January after we tied Mom and Dad down, thrust the checkbook into their hands and told them we’d skip college and spend the rest of our lives behind the counter at Arby’s unless they ponied up with the cash.) But I digress…

Christmas in MLB’s family is unlike anything you’d believe, but everything you’d dream Christmas could be. It’s family spending quality time together, 24/7 holiday music on the stereo, driving around looking at lights, eating and eating and eating some more, homemade pies…and the PRESENTS. The unbridled generosity is overwhelming. Everyone is so thoughtful and generous in their giving, it starts to creep into your thinking the other 11 months of the year. You start taking notes whenever you hear a family member compliment something or mention that they liked something. By the time November rolls around, we’ve usually got a good list going of things you just know the other person forgot mentioning, but they’re gonna love the fact that you remembered. Isn’t it amazing how one thoughtfully selected gift can mean more than a dozen others? (More on gift giving another day.)

And what I’ve found pretty funny is that while many of my Jewish friends would never have a Christmas tree of their own, they LOVE to get invited over to trim the tree, drink hot cider and egg nog and share in the Christmas tradition. They’re not “allowed” on their own but by coming to my house, it’s not like THEY’RE actually doing it. They’re simply being good friends by coming over and helping US out. Whatever works for them. I’m just happy that the holiday has come into my life and I get to share it.

Guess I should’ve expected that when I married a woman born on Christmas Eve.

HO HO HO.

Thinking in Spanish

2005-12-03T14:48:00.000-08:00

I've come to the conclusion that playing the piano is a lot like learning Spanish. Follow me here.

Me llamo Roberto. Son las once y media. Abre la ventana.

With the exception of some numbers and maybe some dirty words if I think real hard, what you've just read are the sole remnants of 5 years of studying Spanish. Makes you wonder why.

The reason I think is that while I had accumulated a number of words, conjugation of verbs, etc. at the time, I never made the leap to actually thinking in Spanish. Anytime I wanted to say something, I'd have to think about what I wanted to say, and then translate those words into Spanish. What a pain in the ass.

A few years ago, I took a stab at piano lessons. I was already in my 30s but it was before I had kids and it was something I always wanted to learn as a kid but never did because we didn't have a piano and my parents weren't inclined to get one. I did OK with the lessons but it was a very analytical process for me. Which finger? What note? What key is this? I aspired to be like many great pianists who could just sit down at a piano and their fingers would find the keys. It becomes so ingrained in them that it doesn't need to be analytical anymore.

My son, Monkey Boy, just started taking piano lessons this fall and already he's miles ahead of where I was when I quit when he was born. I know they say it's easier for kids to learn anything compared to adults. It amazes me to watch him play, because he hears the song in his head as he plays. When he gets lost during a piece, I realize in many cases he fumbles to find his spot because HE'S NOT LOOKING AT THE MUSIC! Maybe the gift for kids is that they're learning so much at the same time (to read, ride a bike, speak Spanish) that they learn how to "think bike", "think Spanish" and "think piano". There's so much they don't know that when they learn something it's more complete learning because they're not trying to go from a place they're comfortable to a place their not.

In any case, I've found the process fascinating.

Me llamo Roberto and I wish I could play piano like I'm thinking in Spanish.

Why Not?

2005-11-30T09:52:00.000-08:00

Not enough time...

Too much to do at work...

Haven't started my holiday shopping...

The sun's in my eyes...

When my friend Pooks posted that she was doing the Holidailies challenge, I came up with about a dozen more reasons why I shouldn't join in. Crazy, I thought. There's just no way.

And yet, here I am. What the hell?

I've never run out of things to say and I might actually enjoy this. Hope you find something interesting here. Maybe even something familiar.

More to come.