Webcomics

Something simple for everyone today. I would like to point you in the direction of some of my favorite webcomics. Some of these artists and writers are extremely talented, and clearly started their work due to the fun of it ... and the hope of making a career out of it. With that I present to you ---

Weesh. By Dan Hess
http://weeshcomic.com/

This artist originally did a comic called Angel Moxie, but then moved on to this very imaginative strip called Weesh. I quote from the website as to the plot behind the strip:

The Merle kids, upon moving into their new home, discovered a magical wish-granting rodent-like character, visible only to children, already living there. Fueled by licorice, Weesh grants whatever wish comes to the kids' minds. Tate, the middle brother, is a font of bizarre wishes, often steeped in science fiction lore. Olivia, the youngest sister, leans towards flights of fancy and everything pretty and innocent. Last, but not least, Zoey, the eldest daughter, wants everyone to just leave her alone.

I wouldn't know how else to describe the strip. It is clever, funny, and very well drawn.

Count Your Sheep by Adrian Ramos (aka Adis)
http://countyoursheep.keenspot.com/

I have talked up this strip before, but it bears repeating. Adis has come up with a great premise. How many people have heard of the idea of counting sheep to fall asleep? Well, in this case, Katie has her own imaginary sheep, named Ship. When she counts him, she falls asleep. However, Ship was her mother's friend before he was Katie's, so Ship is like part of the family. Adis does a great job of seeing the world alternately through the eyes of a bright little girl and those of an insecure widowed mom. It is never mean-spirited, and usually very insightful. Give it a try.

Girl Genius by Phil and Kaja Foglio
http://www.girlgeniusonline.com/index.php

This is truly one of the most beautifully drawn and enjoyable webcomics I have found. The Foglios have created a world beyond belief. I am going to quote the backstory here, but understand that the comic is geared towards teens and up. It is not vulgar, but they warn that characters may die, may be in partial stages of undress, or utter a d**n from time to time. I have found it to be ingenious and brilliantly written and drawn.

The setting: In a time when the Industrial Revolution escalated into a full-on war, rival mad scientists, (“Sparks” to be polite), are the ruling powers in most of Europe. Keeping them all in line is Baron Wulfenbach, a particularly powerful and cranky Spark who, when someone starts causing trouble, simply steps in and makes them stop. His captial is the gigantic airship fortress Castle Wulfenbach.

The main character: Agatha Clay was a student at Transylvania Polygnositc University, who had truly rotten luck until she was revealed as a Spark. (Some might argue that this, also, was rotten luck.) She has also recently discovered that she is the last of the famous Heterodyne family—beloved heroes who disappeared under mysterious circumstances many years ago. Folk legend claims that they will someday return, but so far they haven’t managed it.

It's very difficult to tell whether this is an alternate earth, a different time, or what. But it is plainly ingenious, and who really cares where or when it takes place?

Finally, one of my long time favorites:

Real Life by Greg Dean
http://www.reallifecomics.com/

Greg Dean, who is back in Northern California after a short stint in Texas, is a wonderful comic artist. No, he isn't a Rembrandt. Who cares? It's a comic! And it is drawn that way, but with such expressiveness and great details that you are amazed at what he can do. But it isn't the art that sells this comic. Greg really does see things in his own, slightly twisted, Pepsi-overloaded way. He may drop a bad word from time to time, but the comic is loosely based on his life and his view of the world. Granted, I don't think that Greg has really teleported to his friend Dave's space station. But the Shirt Ninja can do so many things that one never knows!

Greg includes computer and video game references, but they don't rule the strip. Instead, he tackles anything that captures his interest or his ire, and also explores the relationship with his wife, Liz. Actually, I'm not sure if they have the kind of conversations he includes in the strip, but it sure wouldn't surprise me! One can start reading at the current strip, but it is fun to go back to the beginning and see how his art and characterizations have evolved over the years. Greg is truly talented, and I hope he continues to draw Real Life for years to come.


Well, those are my reviews. I hope you enjoy the webcomics I have listed here. And to the artists and writers who draw these strips: Thank you. Your work brightens up my day.

It's Wednesday - Where Are My Rants?

Yeah, I've taken some time away from rants. Today's the day.

Health Care: Let me repeat...I am not political. However, I noticed that the United States is ranked either #1 or #2 in Gross Domestic Product (depending on the survey and whether the European Union is counted as a single entity) and yet, according to the World Health Organization's survey in 2000, the U.S. ranked 37th in the world in terms of health systems. It is behind Morocco, for crying out loud! All I'm saying is this: it is a crime that in one of the richest countries in the world, that spends more per capita on health care than any other country, that every person isn't covered for health care from cradle to grave. It's an embarrassment. Even Canada and the U.K. are ranked higher. The number one system? Wait for it... Yes, it's that nationalized health care system in France! I'm just pointing out some facts, folks.

Football (Soccer to Americans): Two things here. France won its match today 1-0 over the Faroe Islands. The Faroe Islands! One to zero??? How can France barely squeak by the Faroe Islands in World Cup qualifying? Oh...this doesn't bode well for 2010 in South Africa.
Another thing: what imbecile in the headquarters of U.S. Soccer gave the broadcasting rights for today's match of U.S. v. Mexico solely to TeleMundo? Hello? ESPN? Hello? (Dimwits...)

Cash For Clunkers: Nice idea. I also like how one commentator compared it to a gold rush during the first week. People went through the $1 billion dollars allotted for the program in a hurry, and once another $2 billion was shifted to the program, the sales died down. Is it because it wasn't as close to ending as feared, or is it because there are no more cars on the lots?

Volkswagen (and other car dealers): Went online last week to get a quote on a Volkswagen Jetta TDI diesel. I specifically noted in the request that the dealer should contact me by email, not by phone. What happened? You guessed it. A phone call from the internet sales manager asking me what I was interested in, even though I put it all down on the request. Would I accept automatic instead of manual? No. That's why I put manual in the request. Would I like to come down and test drive the automatic, just to see if I like it? No, I wanted manual. We only have 4 left, because we sold 4 this weekend. We won't get any more until October. And we aren't going below the suggested retail price because it's our most popular model. Then why are you annoying me by continuing to talk to me on the phone?

I must admit, in the past I have had great experiences negotiating sales on the internet. I do the work online, a bit of back and forth with the internet department, get an offer, and voila! I go to the dealership and sign the papers. I was out of Mel Rapton Honda in less than an hour. Roseville VW...work on your internet sales. You did this same thing to my son when he was looking at one of your cars, while Mazda did things right.

Job Cuts: Announced today in the news that Kaiser is cutting 1,200 jobs in Northern California due to lower earnings, even though in the last quarter they quoted a huge gain in profits. Isn't Kaiser supposed to be non-profit? Nonetheless, if you made a big profit, keep people employed. You can afford it. Don't add to the misery. And don't add to your current clients' troubles by making them wait even longer for appointments and to be seen by their physician. Bad press, Kaiser.

Baseball: Don't care.
Football: Surprisingly, don't care.
Basketball: Even more surprisingly, don't care.
Current lot of movies in theaters: Care least of all. GI Joe? For real? Give me a break! Transformers and GI Joe in the same summer. Coming to theaters near you next spring...My Little Pony, The Film! You laugh. It could happen! Stretch Armstrong and the Search for Plastic Man! Ugh. When is someone going to write something decent again?

Television: Current favorites on the air - Psych, House (on break), Doctor Who, Deadliest Catch, Burn Notice, and....my absolute favorite....TOP GEAR!! Man, what a great show. I can watch repeats and never get bored. It is fantastic!

That's all for now. Ranting is complete. I now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

A Public Service Announcement

This is a public service announcement from the RIPADD (Reasonably Intelligent People Against Dimwitted Driving).

Ladies and Gentlemen, have you ever been driving and pulled up next to a young woman stopped at a light and doing her hair and makeup at the same time? Have you ever seen someone trying to text with one hand and drive with the other? Perhaps you have had the misfortune of stopping your car within 100 feet of a young man with music and bass blasting so loud that the windows on your car are vibrating. More common still is the person who feels the need to speed through a red light to try to save 1 minute of time waiting for the next green light.

If so, then perhaps you should join RIPADD. This organization has as its main goal the desire to deputize reasonably intelligent people to report and even ticket stupid drivers. How many times have you wished there was a police officer nearby when you spot a young person paying attention to friends in the backseat instead of the road in front of him? Well, now's your chance. Join RIPADD and aid in the fight to get stupid people off the road. Join the fight to allow good drivers to film bad drivers by using digital video cameras and then submitting the videos to a police agency who will track down and ticket the offender.

No more will we see drivers ignoring motorcyclists, or motorcyclists riding wheelies down the street. With one push of the "record" button, dimwitted drivers will be banished to using other modes of transportation. Join now!

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Okay, so that was a bit gratuitous. Still, my point is there. Too many people see driving as a right rather than a privilege. They drive as though no one else on the road matters, and that their convenience and time is more important than anyone else's time or safety.

Why do I write this today? A former co-worker who recently retired was broadsided by a pickup truck on Sunday. The intersection is a dangerous one, and we still don't know who was at fault. All we do know is that she is in the Intensive Care Unit of the local hospital with life-threatening injuries, and her husband of many years is by her side in a state of incredible grief and agitation. This man was also a former co-worker of mine, and had just finished doing some work for me creating a great patio. This couple are still madly in love after so many years, and he kept telling me and my wife how happy he was to be married to this woman. And now, he is unsure if she will ever speak to him again.

People, please think when you're in a car. You are responsible for a machine that can kill in an instant. Drive as though you recognize it. Treat driving as the great responsibility that it is. Realize that being one minute later to an appointment isn't worth running a red light. And understand that a momentary lapse in judgment, caution, or attention can ruin any number of lives, including your own.

Janis and Tony...my thoughts are with you both.

French Bred - Ch 2 (continued)

As we left the future mama-mia-in-law's house, I couldn't help but ponder over what a complete disaster I had incited. Josy assured me that everything was fine, but I wasn't buying that. All I could see was a somewhat over-imagined face of Yolanda baring her fangs at me and daring me to marry her daughter.

I'm going to throw in a spoiler at this time. Since the first meal, I have come to appreciate my mother-in-law very much. Yes, she has some issues that make her difficult to deal with at times. I can point to the hearing aid that she doesn't use often enough, her ever-shortening short-term memory, and her aggressive and stubborn Sicilian nature. Still, she is a lovely woman who cares very deeply about her children and loves Jehovah very much. We now have a very warm relationship, and sometimes when her kids are all gathered together having a typically Italian, hand-waving and gesturing discussion, she will look over at me and I will look at her, and she will have this smile on her face and a gleam in her eye that says, "Yes...those are my children!" Experiences like those I will treasure forever.

We arrived back at my brother-in-law's apartment, where soon Josy would be abandoning me for the night. I was exhausted, but I have never been good at staying in strange homes. I usually hit panic mode and all sanity goes out the window. Fortunately, I was exhausted enough to collapse on the small bed they had prepared for me, and fell asleep.

The next morning, I arose later than my in-laws-to-be. They were at the table having coffee and wished me a kind Bon jour. I wasn't feeling very bon. I was quickly beginning to understand the meaning of the words "jet lag". They offered me some cafe', which I gratefully accepted. They placed what appeared to be a cereal bowl in front of me. Did I get my translation wrong? Doesn't cafe' mean "coffee"? It couldn't mean cereal, could it? No, this was to be my coffee cup. Christine poured coffee into the bowl for me. I realized that she and Joseph were drinking out of similarly shaped cups. I wondered to myself, isn't their coffee espresso? Are they really drinking a full bowl of espresso to start the day? Are they not planning to sleep for another day or two? In reality, the bowl wasn't filled to the rim with coffee, but I was glad to have it nonetheless. In fact, with the shape of the coffee receptacle I was using, sticking my tired face directly into the coffee was a real possibility!

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This ends chapter 2, and my story for now. I'm going to go back to my regular ranting-type blog for the time being and await any kind of commentary or criticism on my writing. As I said before, these chapters are sort of an assessment for me. If people think I can do this professionally, I will have to sit down and give it my best shot. If not, then I won't waste my time.

Please feel free to comment on these chapters. Let me know what you liked and what you didn't. Also, let me know whether you would buy a book like this if you saw it at Borders. In future weeks, I may throw in a couple of anecdotes that I would include with the book. These may or may not include: trying to buy bagged ice in Paris, pavement grenades, and a variety of ways that I have misused the French language and come close to being killed for doing so.

Thanks for reading.

French Bred - Ch 2 (continued)

As Josy chattered away with her brother and sister-in-law in French (with me understanding nothing), Yolanda was working away in her tiny kitchen. I felt sorry for Josy, and would feel sorrier for her as the weeks went by, because due to my language limitations, she had to translate for anyone and everyone who wanted to talk to me. She also had to translate the other way if I had something to say. So much for everyone speaking English. A universal language? HA! She would eventually tire of acting as the go-between, but she kept at it for my sake.

After a relatively short amount of time, we all gathered around the dining room table for lunch/dinner. I say lunch/dinner because for me it had kind of blended together into a mish-mash of "I have no idea what time it is, what day it is, or where my brain was left." As we all sat down, La Mama brought in heaping bowls of pasta. I was relieved beyond words. At this point in my life, my taste buds were only accepting applications from pizza, burgers, and the like. All offers from any other variety of flavors or textures were refused on sight, and told to try the mouth down the road. But here before me was glorious spaghetti with tomato sauce! I could deal with this, and the amount was just right for a hungry American man. I dug in, and after finishing the bowl I was content. I had made it through my first meal at Maison de Mama. Or had I?

Into the room came a large frying pan with a future-mother-in-law attached to the handle. Within the confines of the pan were sizzling slabs of meat. Chops? After the pasta? I assured Josy that there was no way that I could eat anything after the large bowl of spaghetti that I had put away. Josy understood my situation and tried to explain it to her mother.

Imagine, if you will, that you have just been told that your future son-in-law is an alien from the far reaches of the galaxy who has come to enslave the women of earth and to turn the men into some form of putty which will be used to grout alien bathrooms. That is close to the reaction that swept across Yolanda's face. I didn't need Josy to translate for me at this point. I could easily tell that Yolanda was stunned by my lack of manners and ability to eat a proper amount of food. What kind of man was her daughter marrying? Clearly I was indeed an alien species with only one third of the stomach space of a normal human.

Still, Josy managed to convince her mother that I was full, and everyone else went at their slabs of meat. I had dodged the bullet. Or had I? Oh, no. La Mama wasn't done yet. Somehow, her kitchen was a transdimensional portal from which more food could come out of a space which logically couldn't contain such amounts. Here, from the walking food dispenser, was a huge bowl of salad and a platter of cheese. If I had let my jaw drop the way I felt that it would, it was certain that Yolanda would have shoved a wedge of Camembert into the gaping cave. Instead, I just stared incredulously and had to somehow convince my future mother-in-law that no space had been created in my stomach since the last refusal of food. There was just no way! Again, she glared at me. If she had still been in Sicily, she probably would have snapped her fingers and a member of the famiglia would have taken me for a ride somewhere, and my wife-to-be would have quickly become a widow-to-be. Since we were in France, however, all she could do was drill a hole through my face with her laser-beam eyes and make me feel as though I had dishonored every Italian woman who had ever lived. Believe me...I felt it.

French Bred - Ch 2

Maison de Mama

We arrived in the suburb of Le Pre St. Gervais and the apartment building of Josy's mother, Yolanda. Josy pushed the button to buzz her mother's apartment, and a slightly distorted "oui?" came out of the old speaker on the wall. "C'est nous," was my future wife's response; "It's us". Even with my limited French, I understood that. Did Yolanda just have so few visitors that she knew who nous were? Or was she just in expectation of our arrival? In any case, we trudged up a couple of flights of stairs to her apartment and there she was: La Mama.

If you ever had in mind a very general picture of what a Sicilian grandmother looked like, it would probably come very close to Yolanda. She was not thin by any stretch of the imagination, and she had wavy grey hair and glasses. Not short, but not tall. She greeted her children with a firm kiss on each cheek and greeted her grandson with an over-exuberant bear hug, which he desperately tried to escape. Then it was my turn.

At the time, I wore glasses and not contact lenses, and was still unaccustomed to the French habit of kissing on the cheek. Oh, I understood the fact that it was a custom in France. What I didn't understand was that there didn't seem to be a precise number of times one moved from cheek to cheek. In the short time I had been in France, I had seen two, three, and four motions from one side of the face to the other. How did you know how many? How did you know when to stop? Did you just keep going until you needed Chapstick? I stepped into the batter's box and waited for the pitch. Here it came, low and to the right. I did the wrong thing...I tried to anticipate where the pitch was going to wind up. In doing so, my glasses clanked against Yolanda's glasses on each swing of the face. I also tried to anticipate the number of kisses, and guessed one too many. Nice start there Mr. American Man Who's Stealing My Daughter Away to a Foreign Country. Here's a tip for first-timers: move forward gently and in a limited way. Then, let the native move his or her face to each side and just make the kissing sound in the air. When the native stops, you stop. Easy, right? No counting. No eyeglass on eyeglass battle. No wetness on the cheeks. It works! However, I didn't find that out until later, and started to mentally kick myself around the room for my first major faux pas. Still, Yolanda didn't seem to mind, and shuffled everyone into the small living room / dining room combination.

French Bred - Chapter 1 (continued)

I felt a bit better knowing that my fiancee was nervous. We could have a contest; the most nervous one gets a prize. I was soon to discover that I would win hands down. Unbeknownst to me, Josy had also brought her brother and sister-in-law to the airport. Oh goody. Let me describe them for a moment, not giving too many details, as that would upset my wife.

My brother-in-law is of strong Sicilian stock, built lower to the ground but looking as though he could stare down a diesel truck that was threatening to run him over. But he is also one of the silliest guys you will ever meet, who has the incredible knack of turning into a child alongside his nephew and getting the boy to laugh himself into exhaustion. My sister-in-law is French through-and-through. She is a lovely lady who can be silly herself, but mostly rolls her eyes and laughs at the antics of her husband. She is also a Nutella addict, but that's a story for another day.

There, standing before me, was a good chunk of my new family-to-be. My fiancee, my future stepson, my future brother- and sister-in-law. A handsome group, to say the least. And here I was, a geeky looking American daring to join the famiglia. At that point I was also informed that we would be going to have dinner with the matriarch of the family, my mama-in-law to be. No worries, right?

We headed out to the airport parking lot and loaded my suitcases into my sister-in-law's car. Josy had also brought her car, because SUVs are not common in France. The cars are tiny, so if you have five people plus luggage, you generally need two cars. The in-laws were in the lead vehicle, and Josy, her son, and I were in a little Fiat Uno following behind. As we drove down the highway, I was amazed at the sheer mass of graffiti that appeared on every sound wall and seemingly on every building we passed. I thought that this idiotic societal plague was only to be found in the good old U.S. of A. I was wrong. It was everywhere, and even the French knew some American vulgarities. It's pitiful to see this waste of paint all over the place. It's bad enough that people are stupid enough to join gangs, but do they have to spread their waste all over?

As we moved towards Paris itself, I was mesmerized by the architecture of some of the buildings. However, I was a bit dismayed by the fact that there were so many boxy, uninteresting buildings as well. I guess I had the image in my mind that all of the architecture was going to be like the stuff you see in the travel programs. In reality, Paris is a big city like any other big city. People go to work in office buildings, in shops, and in factories. And, like most big cities, some people don't have work, and you find them begging on the streets and in the Metro stations. More on that later, as well.

When driving in Paris, one finds an interesting mix of old and new. There are some very new streets that are straight and relatively wide. But you also find many streets that were obviously built long after the buildings came to be. They may be narrow, or one-way streets, that weave between the buildings as though they were designed by a drunken planner who had one too many at lunchtime. It's clear that they were originally for pedestrians or horses, and that traffic signals and signs weren't necessary during the era when the buildings were erected. These small streets certainly make for some interesting parking maneuvers. You see double- and triple-parking, as well as cars that are parallel parked with no space in between. One can only imagine a driver trapped in this manner coming out to his car, getting in, and ever so gently shoving the cars in front and behind him with whatever meager horsepower his little Peugeot can muster. It's no wonder that so many cars are scratched and dented. Personally, if I opened a business in Paris, I think I would open an express side mirror replacement shop. Seriously. The streets are so narrow that if you don't remember to fold your mirror in when you park, you will come back and have only a stump remaining where your mirror used to be. Imagine keeping a stock of mirrors on hand for a variety of cars and models. "Repairs done while you wait! Mirrors replaced in 30 minutes or less, guaranteed!"

I also discovered that honking your horn is not allowed in Paris unless you have good cause to do so. You cannot just honk for the sake of it. It has to be an emergency, although to Parisians a traffic jam, or bouchon as the French call them, is considered an emergency. What I found out is that my sister-in-law's horn was broken. How did I discover this? You may well ask! Our little two car caravan arrived at a stop light behind another vehicle. The light turned green, and the car in front didn't move. A few seconds passed, and he still didn't move. Was he enjoying a glass of wine or a nice baguette? It didn't matter to my brother-in-law, nor was the lack of a horn a hindrance. I saw Joseph (That's his real name by the way - Joseph - and his sister is Josephine. Imaginative naming, no?) lean out of the window, his entire torso hanging out, and whistle loud enough to shatter windows in the nearby shops! No horn? No problem! Just brace your windshield so it doesn't explode. The guy in the car in front clearly got the message, perhaps when his wine glass broke into a million pieces in his lap. Nonetheless, he moved along and we managed to get through the light before it turned red again. That wouldn't have been a tragedy unless, of course, Joseph got out of the car, ran after the guy, and pulled him out of his vehicle through the exhaust pipe.

So, to set the stage again, I haven't slept in over 24 hours, I'm inching through Paris among some of the most dangerous drivers that have ever stepped on an accelerator and forgotten they had brakes, and am on my way to visit La Mama. A nervous breakdown in waiting if I've ever heard of one.

Please Be Patient...

Just typing a placeholder here. I'm sorry that I haven't continued the story. I haven't been feeling too well this weekend, so I haven't felt up to writing. I'll try to get back to it early this week. Thanks for your patience.

French Bred - Ch 1 (continued)

I guess the customs inspector thought that I looked too poor, too American, or too smart to try to smuggle anything into France, and I was waved through quickly. The passport verification line looked long, but it seemed to be moving quickly. Here I was, holding the first passport I had ever been issued, and was getting excited to think that the first stamp in my first passport would be France! I reached the window, and wouldn't you know, this would be my first encounter with a bored French government worker who knew that his job could never be in jeopardy. He glanced at my passport, looked up at me with half-closed eyes, handed me back my passport and that was that. No stamp, no "welcome to France", no "What is the purpose of your visit, Monsieur Ugly American Who Thinks He Can Dictate To The World?" No. Just a quick flick of the head to show me how to get out.

I wanted to say, "Hey! How about a stamp here? What if the people who check my passport on the way home don't see a stamp and think I snuck into the country?" Then I realized that the people checking my passport on the way out would be a lot like the one who checked it on the way in. So I moved along before I bored the official into a complete state of inertia instead of the partial state he was in at the time.

Welcome to France. Home of the Bored Government Employee. Now Go Home. But First Leave Your Money.

I weaved my way through the mass of tourists and natives to get to the exit. There, waiting for me was my fiance. As tired as I was, my energy level took a huge leap. It had been nearly a year since I had seen her, and she looked lovely; nervous, but lovely.

French Bred - Ch 1 - The Arrival

I don't know who thought that all airline passengers would be under 5 foot 8, but whoever it was should be taken out and shoved into a shoebox. As I boarded Air France for my 12-plus hour flight from San Francisco to Paris, I realized that someone was having a good laugh at my expense. I was flying coach, and seated next to a German man who spoke almost no English. It was close to 3:00 in the afternoon, and I had been up since about 5 in the morning, packing my bags and heading to the second day of a convention at the Cow Palace in Daly City. The convention was to begin at 9:50, and I had to be at the nearby airport by 2:00. Needless to say, by 3 I was exhausted, and was looking forward to sleeping most of the way to Paris. Or not.

The details about the flight are a blur. I know that I was nervous, because I was traveling overseas for the first time and would be greeted by my wife-to-be. I was also nervous because I was going to be spending the next four weeks living with her brother and her sister-in-law. They spoke no English, and I spoke no French. No problems there, right? I was crammed into an airline seat specifically designed for Gary Coleman or Paul Simon. I am 6 feet tall. Trying to sleep in such a seat is like trying to get comfortable being folded in two in a hospital bed. You've seen the cartoons, right? The bed has a little control box and someone pushes the wrong button, causing the bed to fold in such a way that the patient was able to examine his own heels. That's how I felt on the airplane. No way to sleep. No conversation. No desire to remain conscious.

However, despite the constant fear that Air France would go on strike in the middle of my flight and drop me off somewhere near the Bermuda Triangle, we landed safely at Roissy / Charles de Gaulle airport on the outskirts of Paris. As I got off the plane, I wondered how so much pollution could creep in through the air conditioning units of the airport. I didn't know that Paris was so smoggy! Then I realized that what I was experiencing was a wall of cigarette smoke from all of the passengers waiting in the gate area. Instant cancer was a real concern as I carved my way to the baggage claim area.

The first sign that I saw in English woke me up quickly. It said, and I am not making this up, "Unattended baggage will be exploded." There was a little pictogram of a piece of luggage being blown up. Baggage will be exploded. Exploded? Not examined? Not x-rayed? A poor little innocent bag, just sitting there waiting for its owner, would be taken hostage and quickly detonated. What kind of animals were these French?

Well, this wouldn't cause a problem for me. I would just go to the baggage claim area, claim my baggage from the area, and head out to greet the love of my life. So, I waited. And I waited. Everyone else had claimed their bags, but mine had not yet arrived. Minutes passed, and I began to have terrible thoughts. "Oh crud! They've exploded my bag!" I tracked down someone from the airline and asked where my luggage was being held hostage. The employee was actually helpful, and tracked down my bag that was still sitting in the luggage compartment of the airplane. As my heartbeat slowed to something below a rock band drum solo, I took my bag and ventured out into the airport, searching for the customs inspectors, the passport inspectors, and freedom.

As I walked towards the customs inspectors, I noticed quite a number of men dressed in black uniforms, some with dogs, and all with rather scary looking rifles. They looked prepared to attack any piece of luggage that threatened to attack an innocent passenger. They also looked prepared to dispose of any American who dared to eat processed cheese in their presence. I decided that discretion was the better part of not being shot, and quickly moved to the customs line.

French Bred

I have been asked to write about something a bit more "light-hearted" than the drivel I have been spewing for days. I really couldn't think of anything to write. So, I'm going to do something I've dreaded doing. I'm going to post a few of my anecdotes that I am thinking of including in my ever upcoming book effort. Needless to say the following:

All rights reserved 2009, Adam Himmel. Copyright 2009 Adam Himmel. All legal rights 2009, Adam Himmel. Anyone trying to copy or use this material without the express written consent of Adam Himmel (and not Major League Baseball) will be prosecuted and deemed to have very bad taste.

The working title is "French Bred", and will focus on the differences between French and American culture, seen through the eyes of a very fortunate American who married a fantastic French woman. (That ought to get me out of a few problems, eh?) Starting tomorrow, and being posted intermittently, I will try to grind out some anecdotes for the so-called book. If anyone has ideas, I welcome them, as I tend to get writer's canyon (writer's block isn't big enough for me).

Anyway, I will try to start this tomorrow. The first tale will revolve around my first visit to France, which happened to be my first visit to any other country other than Tijuana, Mexico, and the strange things that happened as I realized that France was not just an offshoot of the United States and actually had its own culture and customs. Strange idea, eh? Allow me to set the stage quickly...

I had been a pen-pal of a young French lady since high school. Years went by, and our lives took different paths. However, after a break of nearly 10 years in writing, she got back in touch with me. Our letter writing recommenced, and after a visit by her to the U.S., I did one of the smartest things I have ever done in my life, and proposed to her. Strangely enough, she said "yes", but had to go back to France to get things organized. About one year later, I traveled to Paris to marry her. The French system of laws required that I reside there for 4 weeks before I could marry this Parisienne, and many interesting things happened in that time span. These stories will start with my arrival in Paris, and take the reader through some of the events that led to my hating France and the French, and then to my loving the country and its people.

Stick with me and please give feedback. For the longest time I have been told that I have the makings of a writer. I never believed it, and never really gave it a try. Maybe this is a way to find out if I do.

Have fun with me, and let's see where this takes us...

Allons-y!!!

An Open Letter to Calif. Service Union

Okay, I try to avoid delving into political matters, but this one has me completely confused. According to the Sacramento Bee, dated July 27, 2009, "members of California's largest state employee union have been voting on whether to give their leaders permission to call a strike." In addition, the Bee notes that "Government officials say that a walk-out...would violate labor agreements and that the state would punish anyone who strikes."

Here is where some common sense is needed. First of all, does anyone remember when the air traffic controllers went on strike during the Reagan presidency? It was deemed to be an illegal strike. What did Reagan do? He fired all of the striking employees. Does the SEIU think that the California legislature and the Governor wouldn't just jump at the chance to reduce the state labor force by legally canning the strikers? Just think of the money they would save!

Yes, it stinks being put on furlough and losing 20% of your pay. I mean it really stinks. Tell that to the thousands upon thousands who have completely lost their jobs, are living on a pittance of unemployment, and can't find new jobs. Do you honestly think there wouldn't be a line to apply for a State job even at a 20% lower rate of pay?

Eventually, one would expect that the economy would turn around (unless this system of things ends before that happens...), and then the State will probably do its normal idiotic routine of throwing money around on pet projects like there's no end to the funds. But until then, understand that your union leaders aren't really doing you a favor. If an illegal work stoppage takes place and you lose your job, will you really be happier and doing better financially? Ask the fired Air Traffic Controllers.

Until things turn around, tighten your belts, live within your means, and hope that the economy turns around for you. You'll be doing the same thing that the majority of Californians are doing right now.

When Will They Get The Picture?

Well, Californians are up in arms again. Once again, the Legislature and the Governor let them down, and passed a budget that cuts and cuts from the needy and does nothing to address the underlying problems.

In the United States Congress, legislators are arguing about health care, and every time someone suggests a fix, it gets shot down by people who are in the pockets of the insurance industry.

Wars and threats of wars are everywhere. The swine flu is predicted to hit a huge section of the population this autumn. It all seems to be spiraling downward. I mean really...even the SciFi channel changed its name to SyFy! (That has to be in the book of Revelation somewhere!)

And yet, when someone suggests to them that human governments have failed, they get offended and even angry. Why? I'm sure that the last time they read the newspaper (if they read newspapers any more) or their news website or Fox News or whatever, they probably were ranting about the elected officials who don't know what they're doing, or about some other country that is threatening their country, or so on.

How about a little honesty? How about admitting, just once, that human beings have proven incapable of ruling themselves? Wouldn't that kind of candor be refreshing?

Yeah...it would be. But that's okay. Over six million people know it, along with millions of others who are studying the Bible with them. There is hope.

Although the person who named the SciFi channel SyFy should be dragged through the brambles by his shoelaces. I'm just saying...

Another Round of Short Bursts

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to another installment of "Short Bursts From a Tired and Twisted Mind". Please note: all commentary is designed to be apolitical, although certain common sense questions may be posed. I bear no responsibility for any insanity that runs through my brain.

Health Care: Doesn't it seem illogical for a rich country like the U.S. to have so many people uninsured and underinsured? It also seems illogical that people go hungry or homeless in a rich country, but that's another topic for another day. Granted, health care costs money. But how do these huge insurance HMOs have so much money to spend on commercials and lobbying if they're just doing things for the patients? Just asking...

Starbucks: Why is everyone so surprised that Starbucks closed a bunch of stores? I mean, I can walk out my door and down the street about 3 blocks, and there's a Starbucks. Then, about 1/2 mile away there's another. And another 1/2 mile away there's a Starbucks in a Safeway supermarket. Overkill, you think? Or maybe overcaff. (Someone pick me up a skinny vanilla latte', will you?)

Basketball: Why do I care anything about basketball in the offseason? Am I that desperate for the Kings to have a good season that I'll grasp for any straws in the news that might encourage me? ... umm ... yes, I am.

Electronics: I love my iPhone. I do. And I really love my new MacBook Pro. I do. But I'm not in the tank for Apple. I'm not. Really. I'm not. ---- I AM!!! OK??? I AM in the tank for Apple! (There...I feel better now. Don't you?)

Food: I had dinner at La Provence last night for my anniversary. I positively love the food there, as well as the ambiance. Anyone who can eat at that restaurant and not say that it was great loses many, many points on my scorecard. I don't really keep a scorecard, but if I did, they would lose points.

Sacramento Valley: Tell me again why I live here. Is it the climate? Yeah...110 in the summer is just peachy. The economy? Hey, California Legislature and Arnie...get a clue, bozos! The roads? Ask the suspension on my car. Come to think of it, I haven't the vaguest idea of why I live here, except that now that I bought a house, I'm stuck here. (Good thinking there, buddy boy.)

French language: I hate verb conjugations!!! I do!!! Can't I just speak it like Tarzan speaks English?? They'll understand. "Me go there...eat good food...go store later...then go sleep. Ugh. Watch for elephant droppings." I stink at this language. My brain only works in English, and even then I couldn't define a participle to save my life.

That's it for now. Be sure to tip your waiter. I'm here till Tuesday. Try the veal. If you had any adult beverages, don't drive home...call a cab. Goodnight everybody!!!

Television Tastes

I hate most reality shows. I really do. Things like American Idol, America's Got Talent, So You Think You Can Dance, America's Really Annoying (I made that last one up, but I think it would be a hit, don't you?) are all knock-offs of the same basic idea: if I can get in front of a camera and not make a complete and total idiot of myself, I can be famous! And people watch. I mean really, what's the point of "I Survived a Japanese Game Show!"? It feels like these shows are just dumbing down the viewing audience.

A while ago, I ranted about the cancellation of a smart and clever show: Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip. If you haven't watched it, rent (or buy) the DVDs. It's another Aaron Sorkin show, and it was brilliant. The problem was, in my opinion, that it was just too smart for the room. People wanted mindless drivel over something that involved some thought. "Oh good! Simon Cowell is insulting another bad singer! Let's record that so we can watch it again!"

So what's on my DVR these days? Mindless drivel? Sure...at times. But shows like that are akin to dessert. It's okay once in a while, but you can't survive on it. The shows on my list right now are:

Doctor Who - Always clever, always smart, always fun.
Psych - Again, clever and smart with references you have to listen for, while still being hilarious.
Top Gear - BBC's car show, with three hosts who look like they absolutely have a blast working and playing together. It's silly at times, but they show some awesome cars and I can watch the show over and over again and long for more.
Burn Notice - This is more my son's thing, but I have to admit that the writing is pretty smart.
Deadliest Catch - Very guilty pleasure. I'm not sure why I'm addicted to this show, but I am. It's the same basic thing every week - catch crab - but the sheer effort of doing the job just boggles my mind.
Mythbusters - Another guilty pleasure. I don't watch it every week, but it's always fun.
Fort Boyard - Not on very often, and only on the French channel TV5, but I get into this show! It involves a group of athletes or celebrities completing challenges to win money for their chosen charity. It isn't mindless, but it involves brains, athleticism, and overcoming fears.

Anyway, that's what I watch. I will also catch Poirot or Miss Marple whenever it is on, and will throw on BBC America News to find out what is really going on in the world, but that's about it. It amazes me that I can scan the million channels on my digital cable box and find absolutely nothing worth watching. Here's hoping that Aaron Sorkin comes back to television and that people kick-start their brains into watching something that doesn't involve bad singing, vampires, or sex and violence. Fat chance.

A Salute to the Wife

Yeah, I know the title is a bit corny, and this isn't going to be a long post. But I just want to give a shout to my wife of 14 years. When she married me and moved to this country with her then 6-year old son, a lot of things could have gone wrong. She was an independent woman who had her own life in France and her whole family within Metro distance. Still, she decided to marry this guy with numerous idiosyncrasies, anxieties, and other issues and do her best to make a life with him.

I'm very pleased to say that after 14 years, our life (IMHO) is a very happy one. She is everything I could have dreamed of and more. We now have a house of our own, a step-son turned adopted son who is about to turn 21, and goals that we share and work towards as a team. In addition, she is beyond doubt my best friend, who I rely on and who I enjoy spending time with more than anyone else.

To my wife...you are absolutely the best. I truly look forward to every day with you, and that means to eternity.

Sappy stuff over. Future posts will return to their sarcastic normal selves.

Hesitation

I really wish that I was an organized person. As I sit here looking at my desk in my home office, I see scattered papers and miscellaneous flotsam and jetsam that has no business being on a desk. That isn't the worst of it, though. The worst is my habit of procrastinating. Not just any kind of procrastination. It's the kind where I physically cannot force myself to do what I need to. For example, if I have an assignment to give a talk, I have the worst time just sitting down and writing. Unless I have an idea in mind, I waffle and waver and refuse to get going. It's very frustrating.

I was at a convention over the weekend. It isn't the type where people wear funny hats and talk about new forms of orthodontia. Actually, it was a religious gathering where we are taught from the Bible. Now, I find the topics entirely interesting, but then my ADD kicks in and I have the worst time focusing. Still, I got most of the info out of the weekend. But hiding at the back of my mind the whole time was the fact that I brought my laptop to the hotel to work on my assignment for the following Saturday, and never worked on it. Was I tired? Yes, but not to the point where I couldn't do the work. Was I lazy? Yes, but not to the point where I was immovable. Instead, I just dreaded doing the writing.

Anyway, I stayed home from work today to recuperate, take care of some "honey-do's", and write the talk. The first draft is done, and I'm sure I'll have to edit and cut and time it out to 30 minutes. I just wish I had finished it a week ago. Don't worry. By the time I have the next assignment, I'll forget the wish I just made and procrastinate again. I'll tell you about it...sometime.

So Tired

Have you ever been really tired? I mean so tired that you feel as though you could fall down where you are and just sleep?

Yeah. Me too. It's been that kind of a month, and things don't appear to be getting any better. Still, like so many others, I'll deal with it. Besides, things could be much worse.

I could be in Iran right now. What a situation. The strange thing is that some people are hollering for the United States to get involved. Yeah, they should get right on that. The U.S. can simply add another front to the battles already being fought. That'll work. Besides, the issue for Iran is internal. It's an election fraud battle. Hmmm...wonder what would have happened if people got that angry back during Bush/Gore?

I could be one of the many, many people who have been laid off. I have so many friends who are going through this. It's heartbreaking. I hope things improve soon. Which leads to...

I could be a California legislator. Don't you feel sorry for them? They are so wrapped up in their party differences that they just won't put the people first. Awwwww.....poor babies.

I could be a school-aged child. Did you ever notice that cuts tend to hit the schools first? It's amazing. Sure, administrators could probably do a better job budgeting their funds, but it doesn't help that legislators think that selling the kids down the river is a budget-cutting option. When they graduate, they'll be as thick and unlearned as the legislators that are running the show and...wait...the legislators are breeding new legislators!!!

No. I think tired is okay.

Soooo lazy

Man, it's hard to believe that I have such a difficult time posting to a blog. It's just that I forget about it, especially since I don't know if anyone is reading it.

Anyway, I'm just going to add a quick update here, and try to do better in the future.

French is still a tough language. I have people tell me that I'm getting good at it, but I don't hear it. Why is that? Is it due to self-dislike, lack of self-confidence, or what? Anyway, I have to keep working at it, because I'm going to have a ton more work in a few months, and it isn't going to be pretty.

Still loving my Ninja 250. It's a blast, and it handles so well. I've gotten used to riding again, and I realize just how much I missed it. My only concern is that it's going to start hitting 100 degrees soon, and even my new highly ventilated jacket is going to feel broiling. Oh well, it's better to be safe. Just a warning to all of you in cars: when bikers split lanes, it isn't always because we just want to get ahead of you. For instance, sometimes when it is hot, you forget that we don't have air conditioning on our bikes, and sitting for 10 minutes waiting to move to the front of a line at a light can cause us to start dehydrating. So please, if you see one of us coming down your line between cars, give us a break. We aren't all doing it to show off.

I heard former governor Jesse Ventura talking on a radio show the other day, and he was saying how many of the problems in the world today can be chalked up to organized religion. I was struck by how much that sounded like a shot across the bow for the destruction of Babylon.

Convention next month in SF. Wish I could go to the one in Paris or North Carolina, but money's tight, as many people are experiencing. Maybe next year.

One more thought: change the NBA lottery! There's no way that the team with the worst record should only have a 25% shot at the top pick. That's ridiculous! Weight it so the team has at least a 40% chance at the top pick, 20 at the number 2 pick, and is guaranteed no worse than #3. The Kings getting the number 4 pick after a 17 win season is ludicrous.


Posted 30 minutes later: One MORE thought! PETA and its members should get a freaking life! Now they are upset at President Obama for killing a fly. A fly!!! It is an insect, known for carrying disease and serving very little purpose. Why don't you people worry more about human beings? A fly....for cryin' out loud. On top of that, they are upset at the fishmongers in Seattle for tossing fish. Dead fish. Not live fish. Dead fish. Fish that are bereft of life. They are pushing up the daisies! (Sorry...having a Monty Python moment there.) Does PETA think that the fish are embarassed being thrown? Perhaps they aren't really dead. They're not QUITE dead. In fact, they're feeling better and think they'll go for a walk! (Whoops. Another Python moment.) I say again...GET A LIFE! GET A CLUE!!! GET A REAL JOB!!!

I'm not saying that animal abuse is acceptable in any way. However, these are flies and dead fish. Flies and dead fish. I can't even wrap my brain around the way these loons think. I'm going to take some Tylenol now and try to get these dorks out of my brain. (Loonies.)

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/31422688/ns/us_news-weird_news/

Why Closed Adoption Records?

Today I decided to try once again to find out who I am.  Let me back up for a moment.  I was adopted as a baby back in 1964.  I never had a huge desire to find my birth parents, but I did feel the need to find out some health information.  Every time you go to the doctor, they ask if there is any family history of heart disease, diabetes, etc., and every time I have to answer, "I don't know...I was adopted."

I understand the desire of a birth parent to remain anonymous.  Back in 1964, it was still unacceptable for an unmarried woman to have a baby.  It was still a stigma.  Today, many woman have babies despite being unmarried.  It's the way times have changed.  I'm not saying that I approve of it, but that's how things are.  But I digress.

I wrote to the adoption agency who handled matters and received a nice letter from the woman who actually handled my adoption!  Of course, she was very limited in the information that she could provide.  I found out precious little about my birth parents.  My "father" had forced his intentions upon my natural mother, and then his father helped him to skip town.  My mother was very young and decided to put me up for adoption.  I'm grateful to her for this decision, not because I think she would have been a bad parent, but because she could have had an illegal abortion!  I think I prefer living, thank you very much.  Anyway, through conversations with my adoptive family, I garnered one precious piece of information.  My sister remembers seeing the file at the adoption agency with the name "Baby Boy Pringle" on it.  Pringle.  That had to be my mother's last name!  So, after a lot of research, I found one piece of information to corroborate my sister's recollection.  In a database of birth records, I found the following:

Last Name:  PRINGLE

First Name:

Middle Name:

Birth Yr, Mo, Day 1964 (and the birth date matches, too!)

Mother's Last Name:  PRINGLE

Sex:  MALE

County of Birth: LOS ANGELES

It all matched.  So I went back farther to see if there were any Pringles who would have been around 17 or 18 at that time.  I could only narrow it down to females born in Los Angeles county in 1945 or 1946.  The chances that a woman would have remained in the same county all her life up to that point were slim.  Still, I found two:  Donna Jo Pringle born in 1945, and Penny Lee Pringle (mother's maiden name Pfeil) born in 1946.  Frankly, I doubt if either one of these are correct.

I even had the adoption agency put a letter and Consent to Contact note in my file to allow my birth mother to reach me if she chose to do so.  She has yet to make contact, and it has been over 10 years since I added that to my file.

What's the point of all of this?  Those of us who are adopted need a little more than our birth place as information.  At the very least, we need medical histories that are as detailed as possible without giving away our birth parents' names or addresses.  It isn't fair that I don't know if my family has a history of cancer, genetic diseases, or even insanity!  (I may be proof of the latter, who knows?)  There are a number of diseases or problems that I might be able to prevent if I knew my family history.  As is, my medical life is a roll of the dice, not knowing what might happen and not knowing if I could do anything to stop a future issue.  I deserve to know these things.  Not just for my own peace of mind, but for that of MY family, who depends on me to provide for them.

If anyone reads this or searches on it and may know anything, please drop me a line.  Even if you don't know anything, just take a moment to think about how beneficial it would be if birth records included medical histories.  It could save a life.

And to birth mother, with the maiden name Pringle...I'd like to know you if you would like to know me.  But even if you want to stay anonymous, a little note to the adoption agency with a medical history for me would be helpful.  

Swine!

So, we're having flashbacks to the swine flu fiasco of 1976.  That was the last time that people panicked so that the government panicked so that they gave inoculations that ended up killing more people than the flu did!

I've been noticing a strange disconnect between this version of the flu and the facts about flu.  In reality, quite a number of people die in the U.S. every year from a variety of flu types.  This version is no different.  The reason it seems different is because a number of people in Mexico have already died from this version, and the current flu vaccine doesn't carry antibodies for this type of flu.  Okay.  So what do we do?  Act like it's SARS version 2 and walk around wearing surgical masks?  Go ahead.

How about this?  If you're sick, stay home from work or school.  Instead of thinking you are brave or saving up your sick pay or PTO or vacation, use the hours and avoid spreading the virus!  I hate it when parents send their kids to school because they "can't afford to miss a day", and they end up contaminating a bunch of other kids.  If our children have so much homework that they can't miss a day, then that's another matter that needs to be addressed by our school boards and governments who think that passing a STAR test or a High School Exit Exam is a good determiner of future success.  (Getting off track.  Sorry.  But I really hate the way schools do things these days!)

Another thing you can do is something quite novel:  wash your hands.  With soap.  And warm water.  For more than 5 seconds.  I can't tell you how often I see someone leave a bathroom without stopping to wash his hands first.  It's disgusting, it spreads disease, and...it's disgusting.  (It's even worse than seeing someone talking on a cell phone while he is using the urinal!  And that's another story to harp on some other time!)

Influenza is a virus.  It can't really be killed easily, but its transmission can be halted.  Just use some common sense, don't panic, and follow basic cleanliness regimes.

And for goodness sake, if you have the flu, STAY HOME!!!  (And stay out of my office!)

Nonsense Thoughts

I realized that I haven't added a posting for a little while, so I thought I would write a quick blurb of a variety of thoughts.

1) I stink at learning French. Period. I hate it because I have absolutely no gift or skill at it whatsoever. Frustration talking? Maybe. But I really am not getting the hang of this.

2) The Kings are changing coaches again. I can't see Kenny Natt continuing as coach.
2b) I don't see Beno Udrih remaining as the starting point guard much longer, either.

3) Jay Cutler is a whiner, and the coach of the Broncos is an egotist. (Like I care about the Broncos, Bears, or Cutler...)

4) One of the great internet comic strips out there is Real Life. (www.reallifecomics.com) Greg Dean rocks.

5) Riding a 250cc motorcycle in 40 mph gusting wind is scary. Not fun.

6) Did I mention that my French stinks?

7) Red Dwarf is a funny British series, but very uneven.

8) IMHO, some of the best tv on the air right now includes: Psych, Burn Notice, and House.

Tune in next time for something that makes more sense.

Keep It To Yourself

It seems as though I like to talk about my new motorcycle a lot. So sue me. It's a blast to ride again and it makes me happy.

What I don't like about it is the opinions of others who are convinced that I am going to end up an organ donor. I don't verbally slap people for this, but I sometimes wonder if they don't say these things because they like to be fatalistic rather than the idea that they care about what happens to me. "What, do you want to die?" "Why would you buy a death machine?"

The negative to positive comments run about 5 to 1. I don't mind if people say, "Be careful when riding." I appreciate it when people say, "Nice bike! Are you wearing the proper protective gear?" Those kind of comments express genuine concern. But comments like the "organ donor" statements and such are just for the sake of sounding like they are smarter and wiser than you are. Guess what? I know the dangers. I know the dangers of riding a bicycle on the street. I know the dangers of walking through bad neighborhoods. I know the dangers of letting a dog lick your face! OK! I recognize the dangers, accept the dangers, and take all the appropriate measures to avoid damage. Driving a car is dangerous. Driving like an idiot is incredibly dangerous! Riding is dangerous. Riding like an idiot is often fatal.

If you want to express concern, do so. Do it in a way that acknowledges that I am an adult and not an insane person with a death wish! You want danger? Go on a carnival ride at some county fair. (Not implying that all rides are dangerous, but you do frequently hear of injuries and deaths on these things!) When I ride, I wear a high quality helmet, padded gloves, armored jacket, etc. I keep my head on a swivel and try to be aware of everything going on around me. I assume that other drivers are going to pull out in front of me or not stop when pulling up behind me. I'm sure you do the same thing in a car. But I'll tell you one thing; if I see a car not stopping as it pulls up behind me, I have a chance to get out of the way by scooting out of the way. You can't do that in a car.

For those who care; thank you. I'll ride as carefully as possible.

For those who ask if my wife took out extra life insurance on me; thanks...for nothing.

Bad News Keeps Coming

It's getting scary out there. The economic news gets worse and worse.

I can understand why people are nervous and being cautious with money. However, the people who are panicking are making matters worse, not better. Look at it this way: the economy depends on people investing, spending, and for want of a better expression, living their normal lives. When money is pulled out of the economy, businesses fail.

I am not going out to purposely spend money I don't have. Far from it. However, I'm also not going to stop spending entirely. If there's something I need, and I have the money, I'll buy it. For example, my watch conked out on me last week. I started to go through convulsions not having a watch on my wrist! So, I decided to get a new watch. Did I NEED a new watch? Well, need may be a strong word, but I sure felt like I did. Thus, I looked around and found a nice Pulsar (made by Seiko) for under $100. I love the watch, and I pumped a little bit of cash into the economy.

I didn't go out and buy like a madman. (Except for the Ninja, maybe.) But I bought groceries, I went to Ikea and picked up a few things. (Does anyone else love that crazy place as much as I do? Used to hate it. But that's a blog for another day.) We need to be careful with money...always. It's overextension that got us into this mess. But careful and reasonable isn't the same as panicky and miserly. Don't stuff your mattress. Use the banks for your savings, and make your reasonable everyday purchases. It's confidence that pulls an economy up.

And tell the stupid politicians to quit arguing and get to work, will ya? (Just kidding...none of my business, that's for sure!)

Rainy Days and Mondays

No, I'm not going to sing. (Even though I still am trying to find a talk show that will interview me. My purchase of the Ninja has solved the drought!)

I just found out that my homebuilder, John Laing Homes, has filed for bankruptcy protection. Now, I'm not vindictive. Also, this isn't good news for my home inspections and warranties for the first year of ownership. In fact, I haven't heard from them yet to schedule the walk-through! But I am beginning to be a believer in "What goes around, comes around". They were so jerk-like at times during the negotiation process that I almost feel as though they are getting what they dealt. Still, I don't wish anyone out of work, and there were several very nice people who worked with us on our home purchase. I hope all of them are doing okay.

But to all of you out there who think that just because you're in sales that you have to hard-sell and hard-line your customers...be careful...you never know what you're setting yourself up for! What's the old saying? Be careful as you climb the ladder of success. Don't step on anyone on the way up, because those are the people you'll have to deal with on the way back down. (Or something like that. It's Monday, for cryin' out loud!)

The Bike

It's been a few days that I've actually been able to get on my new motorcycle and ride for a bit, so I thought I'd post some thoughts about the bike.

1. It's a great little bike. Anyone who says that the Ninja 250 is for people who just want to pretend they are racers is out of their mind. It is very comfortable to ride, is responsive on the throttle and in the turns, and feels far more stable than the cruiser bikes I've ridden. Besides, the thing is not designed to do 120 mph.

2. Good equipment is vital. I don't feel invincible with my jacket and helmet, but I feel a bit safer. Knowing that I invested in one of the best helmets on the market and that I have armor in my jacket makes me feel that if I do happen to hit the pavement, I have a better chance to walk away from it. Still, I may invest in some good pants and boots next, just to be careful.

3. The bike is beautiful. It gets looks, that's for sure. Mine is a fantastic blue and just knocks your socks off. It doesn't need stickers or other stuff on it. The clean lines, the color, and the design of the bike is all you need.

4. It begs for a few extras. I would like to get sliders on the side, just to protect the bike if it does fall. I would also like to replace the rear seat with a cowling to make it even cleaner. Also need some kind of security, although if someone wants to steal a small bike, they'll probably do it. LoJack anyone?

Overall, as the engine begins to break in and I get more familiar with the bike, I feel as though I made a great choice, thanks to the wife and son. I really missed riding, and this motorcycle not only gets me back into it, but I don't think I'll be trading up anytime soon. It's juuuust right!

Drought v. Riding

OK...I'm torn. I know we need the rain, and we've been getting a good soaking lately. But I really want to be riding my new motorcycle. I think that makes me a selfish person in a way. Far more people are affected by the water shortage than are affected by my needing to hitch a ride with my wife to work. But still....

Well, I guess I can wait to ride. Our city has announced that they want everyone to cut their water usage by 20%. If that doesn't worry people, it should. Many people let showers and sinks run and run without thinking about how much water they use. Or, they water their lawns until the precious liquid flows down the sidewalks and into the storm drains. It's funny, but when I stop to think of how much water I waste, I think that I do pretty well compared to some in the savings department. But still, I see that fresh water going down the drain and wonder if I can't do more.

Next stop: the local Home Depot / Lowe's for a couple of new showerheads to reduce that water usage. (Along with an egg timer for my son's bathroom to keep him on schedule!)

I guess I can wait to ride. Keep the rain coming.

In House, and On Two Wheels

It seems like I blog less and less month by month. Part of the reason is that no one is actually reading this silly thing. But then, who would want to read something that only gets posted once in a blue moon? (sigh....)

But, here I go again.

We are in our new house - finally - and have turned in the keys to our apartment. The house isn't perfect, but it is our home now and we are enjoying that aspect of life. It is strange not to have people stomping around overhead. It is very odd to be able to pull into a garage, open the car trunk, and walk into the kitchen with groceries and not get drenched while walking up to a second floor apartment and avoiding a hernia. It is unusual to have bulky mail either put into a large mailbox and have a key left in our mailbox to access it, or to have UPS actually drop things off at a secure spot at our home. Packages actually arrive without being crushed into a small apartment mailbox!

Yes, things are better in many ways. Granted, our bills are higher, and our mortgage is much higher, but that is the price one pays for a home. I can deal with it for now.

In addition, my car went splat. The stick shift was starting to struggle again, and then the electrical system pooped out. I had a choice. I could either fix the car - again - or get something else. Strangely enough, it was my wife who suggested that I go ahead and buy a motorcycle. Even though it would cost more than fixing the car (this time), over time it would be less expensive. So, after doing my research, I narrowed things down to 3 bikes, all of which were small enough to be affordable.

Yamaha V-Star 250 - Cruiser bike. Okay, but nothing special.
Honda Rebel 250 - Cruiser bike. Smaller than the Yamaha in terms of seat height. Hasn't changed its style in 20+ years.
Kawasaki Ninja 250R - Sport bike. Me? On a sport bike?

The winner? The Ninja.

Yes, I know. I've heard the comments. "What? Do you WANT to die?" "You're an organ donor, right?" "Why do you want a crotch rocket like that?"

Guess what? Part of the safety concern centers around the rider. It's up to the rider to be attentive to his surroundings and to ride like everyone is going to pull out in front of him or t-bone him. It's up to the rider to obey traffic laws and posted speed limits. Nothing is perfect or perfectly safe, but a rider goes a long way to helping himself by riding safely and wearing high-quality safety gear. That's what I've done. I didn't skimp on the helmet or the armor. In addition, the Ninja has a more comfortable riding position and is more stable than the other bikes. Thus, I am the proud and happy owner of a 2009 Kawasaki Ninja 250R. So sue me.

One more thing: the California legislature acts like a bunch of children, don't they? You wonder why I have no confidence in humans to govern themselves? Just look at California and even the U.S. Congress. Pitiful behavior.

I think I need to go for a ride.

Everything Going Better

Just a quick note to say that Comcast has made everything right.  Of course, I had to escalate matters, but with that done, the construction team was out the next morning and the technician that same afternoon.  We have internet, we have cable, and I have a headache.

More later.

Moved In, But.....

Just a quick note to say that our move to our new house went rather smoothly. We had good weather, good friends, and I have a wife who did an incredible job. Little incompetent me even had the ability to install curtain rods, which has left me in a state of shock to this very moment.

One snag, and it's an annoying one; Comcast stinks.

Let me tell you a little story of incompetence. A couple of weeks before the move, I scheduled an appointment for Comcast to come out to my home on the morning of the move to hook up our internet and cable service. Right on time, the contracted technician came out and started the work. A problem arose. The conduit was blocked with some form of junk, and he could not run the cable to the house. Thus, he had to schedule a "conduit blow" with the Comcast construction team. They said that they would be out that afternoon or the next morning, and then a technician would come out to complete the process.

By 11:30 the next day, we still had no word from Comcast. So, I called their oh-so-helpful "800" number. The lady said that it was scheduled for 6:00 that evening. (Just a bit later than the Saturday afternoon I expected, don't you think?) Anyway, that time came and went. This morning, I called again. They said it could take up to 5 days for a crew to come out, but that they would escalate it and someone would call me. Five days! Thus, if we stick with their schedule, I would hopefully have my internet and cable service by Saturday, the 27th! Only one week later than scheduled originally!

Cable companies say that they are improving their images, making service appointments with smaller windows and striving to provide service that matches the extravagant prices we are paying. Then, something like this happens, and it reminds me just how much I despise Comcast. To make a long story short, this is the epitome of incompetence and customer DISservice.

May they get pimples for the joy that they have taken in causing me grief.

Moving Day

Well, the day is finally within sight.  We are moving on Saturday.  It has been a long and draining process to get into this home, but now it is getting exciting.  As we have been moving in our new, smaller furnishings and our new items, the house has begun to look like a home.  Once we get the rest of our things in, it should feel real.

It's a big jump, moving from an apartment to a house.  And at my age, it's a bit scary.  Still, I hope that I'll be up to the tasks involved in ownership: cleaning, maintenance, etc.  

I feel particularly blessed that we have such good friends who have volunteered to help us, and my wife has been incredible throughout the whole matter.  Here's hoping that Saturday runs smoothly, especially compared to what we've been through so far with this house.

Almost Ready to Move

Here we are at the beginning of December, and I have almost reached my limit on the preparations for moving. We have (read: my wife has) finished the painting and went with colors very different from our original plan. Still, she did a great job, especially considering that it was her first attempt at this kind of painting. (My wife is amazing!)

The big frustration has been trying to find the furniture, ceiling fans, and window treatments that we need to be comfortable. We still...STILL...have not found a living room chair / recliner to complete the living room The wife lovingly wants me to be comfortable, but she also has requirements for size and color of the chair. Thus far we have not found it at a price we can afford. Therefore, the search goes on.

The ceiling fans are done, so we now have light in the rooms. However, we are trying to decide on window treatments, and there is more to it than just, "Let's get THAT one." Blinds or curtains; vertical or horizontal; rings or clips; regular or decaf? It's all insane, not to mention expensive! Sheesh! It's just fabric, for crying out loud! Anyway, hopefully we will have the treatments decided on by the end of the weekend, and maybe the chair as well. Then, we have to buy a bed and get moved.

In addition, my other son is being nagged by his mom (my ex) to get his driver's license. Thus, the only date that we can get him down and schedule the test is...wait for it...the weekend we are moving. sigh....

And...we have the special week for our congregation this week, and are making preparations for our French group to become a congregation. Then we have a two-day assembly the week after we move.

I'm going to cry now.

Or at least go fetal.

Got the Keys

Well, we picked up the keys to the house yesterday, and I realized something: I just spent a honkin' lot of money! Yeah, I know we got a house, and that builds equity (eventually). But still, the way it hit was funny. I was standing in the kitchen with my wife, made my statement, and watched as her eyes got really big. Then she asked me to not say that again. (She's so cute.)

Anyway, now the real insanity begins. Grout sealing, painting, appliance delivery, garage door opener install, ceiling fan install, furniture moving...AAAUUUUGHHH!! I think I just sprained something thinking about it!

I did, however, order new checks, business cards with our new address, and got the gas, electric, garbage, etc., changed over. At least there is SOME progress.

Keep watching this site, as my brain slowly turns to mush.

First time homeowners

I haven't written in awhile...quelle surprise! Things have been insane. I will write more in the future, but for now, just a comment.

After over half a year, my wife and I have completed the purchase of our first home. I never thought that I would buy a home for the first time in my mid-forties, but sometimes things work out that way. We were getting so tired of our apartment; having rude upstairs neighbors who think that imitating an ogre stomping through the brush is a nice way to say "hello" is just a blast.

Still, without our city's affordable purchase program, it never would have happened. So, over the next few weeks, I'm going to be involved in painting, grout sealing, purchasing, installing, and moving a variety of items to get moved in to our new place. I'm nervous. I haven't changed residence in over 15 years. I hadn't changed congregations in 13. Now, I'm in a French congregation and am moving in to a new house. May Jehovah give me strength...I'm going to need it.

More later as we go through the process. I'll try to keep a running update to put my insanity into words.

September - Isn't this supposed to be Fall?

Well, here it is, September 30. It's around 91 degrees outside. I hate California summers. I have lived here all of my life, but for one semester I spent autumn in upstate New York. Mind you, I hated the city I lived in. But autumn there really felt like autumn. There was a crispness in the air and the leaves were turning incredible shades of yellow, orange, and red. Here in California, the pine needles are a lovely shade of brown from the summer heat, and sap from the trees rains down upon my car windshield, making a sticky, opaque mess.

What in the world am I talking about? I don't know. I just hate hot weather and am looking forward to cooler temps.

I just thought I would jot down a few thoughts as of today.

Paralegal: I have finished my paralegal courses. Due to my hard work and focus, I have determined that I don't want to be a paralegal. Not now, anyway. Not until attorneys actually band together and determine that they will use the English language as the basis for all paperwork used in contracts, legal documents, and discussions. No wonder people hate and mistrust lawyers; no one can understand a word they say!

Baseball: Who cares? The A's were destroyed by midseason trades and the Giants had one good player.

Football: Al Davis needs to volunteer to be the poster child for the American Alzheimer's Association. "Please...don't let this happen to your family members. Support the American Alzheimer's Association." Al, sell the team.

Basketball: What's this tingling in my chest? Could it be...I'm excited about this year's Kings team? I see a positive aspect in Ron-Ron's departure? Or is it just that I had one too many bean burritos for lunch?

A personal note: Without going into a lot of detail, we've been in the process of buying a house. We should have closed 2 weeks ago, but for issues faced with the builder. I won't talk about it now, as I don't want anything else to interfere with the deal. Once everything is signed, sealed, and delivered, and we are in the new house, I'll tell you all about it. (Shameless plug for the future...)

Rant Time

Okay. It's time for a rant. My topic today: personal responsibility. In this case, the personal responsibility I mean is taking responsibility when you have done something wrong.

A couple of weeks ago, my wife and I were out and about in our relatively new car. I say relatively because it is 1 1/2 years old, but looks brand new. We get home and I look down near the rear tire and realize that someone has hit our car. Not hard, but hard enough where the other car left paint on our car, the rim was scratched, and the bumper was dented. The dent wasn't bad, but it popped the bumper out of place on one end.

The person that did this had to know that he or she hit my car. Had to! I would like to say that no one is stupid enough that they wouldn't notice, but I'm sure I would be wrong. Anyway, there was no note; no phone number; not even a scribbled "sorry" on a gum wrapper.

I took the car to my repair shop to see if they could pop it back into place. They informed me that they could not do so due to damage to the underside of the bumper. It would have to be replaced at a body shop. I haven't priced it, but you can probably estimate around a grand.

I'm not going to get it repaired right now. I can't afford to blow a thousand dollars on a small thing like this. But where is the person that did it? Where is the personal responsibility for one's actions?

The Bible says that "he who is faithful in little is also faithful in much". If someone is this irresponsible for something like this, would you hire him or her to work for you? Would you trust the person to babysit for you?

Frankly, I'd like to say this as simply and honestly as I can as an open comment to the wrongdoer (yeah...as if he or she reads this...or if he or she CAN read): You, sir or madam, are a coward of the first degree. Your insurance might have covered it, or you could have paid for it, or if you were broke, I might have said to forget the whole matter. But instead, you ran. You left without an apology or taking responsibility. You are a wuss and a weasel.

Am I harsh? Maybe. But forgiveness comes with repentance. This person obviously had no intention of taking responsibility for his or her actions, so it seems there is no repentance.

May a weasel get loose in your shorts.

I'm done now.

How Long Has It Been?

This post is basically a placeholder. Why? Because my brain is about to fall out of my head! Busy, busy, busy.

Quick update on HOW busy: improving my French by conducting meetings and WT at French Group; finishing up my paralegal courses (7 weeks to go); househunting/buying; work; work; field service; work; congregation; work...etc., etc., etc.

Random thoughts:

You ever get the feeling that people don't want ANYONE as President? Everyone complains that they don't like either candidate...again. (That's why I support the Kingdom government, folks!)

Artest gone...just a few more to go before the true rebuilding can begin.

I thought I saw the sky the other day...and it wasn't brown!!!

I hate rude upstairs neighbors, and idiots who think that screaming and playing the harmonica outside at 4 am is a good idea. Jerks.

Coffee...gooooood....

Sleepiness...baaaddddd....

Maybe more later...maybe not.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

A big week is coming up for my family.  After 14 years we are changing congregations.  It isn't just a normal kind of change, but a change to a foreign language group.  For us, it's the opportunity to serve where the need is greater in an area close to home.  But that doesn't mean that it isn't stressful.

When my wife and future adopted son moved to this country, my son couldn't speak English.  My wife was fluent in the language, but still she was moving from an area where she spoke, read, and thought in French to a place where very few seemed to understand the language.  I can only imagine how hard it was for her to leave her family and friends and move to the other side of the world to be with me in an English-speaking country.  Yet, she managed it beautifully, and has since become a citizen.  I look back and I feel nothing but love and admiration for her sacrifice, but also for her courage.  It couldn't have been easy.

Now, I'm trying to repay her favor in a small way.  I've never handled change well.  I have lived in the same apartment for around 18 years(!!), have been at the same job for 14 years, and as I wrote earlier, have been in the same congregation for 14 years.  Did I mention that I don't like change?  Yet, here I am, changing everything.  Most of my congregation meetings will be in French.  I'll still be an elder in the congregation, but I'll also be one of the "eldest" members of the group.  (How did 44 become old??)  I'll have to travel a bit farther to get to this congregation, too.  

So how do I feel?  Nervous, that's for sure.  But there's also an excitement in the air.  There's the feeling that I'm doing something good and that for one of the few times in my life I'm actually stretching my comfort zone out and making room for something more.  And through it all, I know that my wonderful wife will be able to help me through it, because she's gone through more than this.

Why am I writing this?  Because it helps.  And because that if there is anyone actually reading this, maybe they will realize that if I can reach out, they can too.  Just because they call it a comfort "zone" doesn't mean that it can't grow to include more area.  

Been a Long Time

Here we go again. I found a few minutes, some energy, a keyboard, and enough wits to add an entry to my blog. Why? I still don't know. One of these days I'm going to have to find a way to get some readers. Anyway, here's an update on what's doin'.

As of May 1, I will be moving full time from an English congregation to a French language congregation. What does that mean? It means that all of my meetings will take place in French, all of my parts will be conducted in French, all of the preaching work will be done in French, and all of my brains will leak out of my ears. (Hey! Leave out those "what brains?" comments!!)

Even though I will miss seeing my friends in Ridgeview as frequently as before, I'll still be living in the same place, so I will be able to continue to visit with them socially. The big challenge will be to improve my language skills so I don't feel so awkward and lost in French. But I take great joy in seeing the zeal and the effort in those who are currently a part of the French group. Many of them are just learning the language and show courage in responding in French despite the struggles. They are wonderful, humble, and fun-loving people who love Jehovah very much, and I am flattered and humbled myself that they have welcomed us so warmly. They just need to realize that I am not fluent. They seem to think I'm a modern Maurice Chevalier! Ah well.

Kings - Dead for the playoffs. There's no big surprise there. There are just too many good teams in the west. But, memo to Geoff Petrie: Get rid of Ron-Ron. Please? He sits out a game, comes back against the Lakers, and has zero assists. Yeah. That's who I want on the court. Lose him. Take the hit on Kenny Thomas' contract and lose him, too. Trade Francisco Garcia while he has value. Not because he isn't good, but because he's not going to get a lot of playing time. Re-sign Beno Udrich (good point guards are hard to find). Then, take that draft pick, and package it with someone and get some experience on the floor to lead these kids.

Raiders and 49ers - A moment of silence, please, for the upcoming season.

A's - They probably won't be as bad as some expect, but there's no way they'll challenge for anything. But aren't you all glad that Barry Zito left for the ...

Giants - The over/under for wins this season is now 20 in my opinion, and I'm taking the under. (P-U!)

Politics - Is anyone else sick of the whining yet? No? How 'bout now?

Television - Is it just me, or is there absolutely NOTHING worth watching on the tube now? I mean seriously. In any given week, there is nothing with intelligence on the air that doesn't involve shooting, knifing, or sex! (Oh how we miss you, Aaron Sorkin. Studio 60, we hardly knew ye.)

DVDs - Just FYI, the word is out that one of my favorite animated series of all time will be coming out on dvd soon. Pick up Freakazoid! in July. You'll laugh so hard that you'll break all your furniture.

I'll try not to stay away so long.

Still Kickin'... Barely

Judging by the complete lack of comments, I know that no one is really missing this blog. (Except Asia...) Still, I feel the compulsion to write a bit today since I have a few minutes.

My paralegal courses are kicking my butt. It isn't that the work is so hard, but there's just so much of it. Add to that my work in my congregation, my move to the French group, and the search for a new residence...I'm beat.

Let's play the topic game today.

Politics: I don't get involved. But it's interesting to see that California is predicting a huge turnout of ... well ... the high 30 percent of registered voters. Isn't that pretty pathetic? An election with more coverage and interest than has been shown in years, and California is expecting the high 30s? It makes me laugh. Or at least snicker.

Real Estate: I'm starting a search for my first house. I've lived in an apartment all of my life and my lease is about to expire, so I'm looking into the idea of buying a home. I'm finding it very disheartening, though. I can't afford typical California prices, and the houses I can afford are in places that are not appealing in terms of safety, traffic, and distance. I know that if you want certain things that you have to pay for them, but this is kind of ridiculous. My monthly housing budget is enough to buy a very nice place in Raleigh, NC, but in northern California I can probably afford an empty washing machine box behind Best Buy. It looks like I may be signing another lease. That bites. I'd love to be able to own my own home, even though it scares me. I'm really tired of the people upstairs making my walls shake with their heavy walking. I want peace and quiet. But I don't have the funds. It's very discouraging.

Super Bowl: Didn't watch it, didn't care. Still don't care.

Kings: Does anyone but me think the Kings would be better trading Artest and Bibby for some future draft picks? I know it doesn't work like that in the NBA, but that's what I would like to see happen.

Paralegal Classes: I'm not sure this is the career for me. I hate offices, but thought I could do some immigration paralegal work. There just doesn't seem to be many jobs out there for that area, and I sure don't want to work for an ambulance chaser.

French: Is there a reason why my wife and family say that I do a good job speaking French and I feel like I'm still sounding like a Parisian Tarzan?

Anyway, that's it for now. I'll try to post more often, but I don't see much free time at any point in the future. Best to anyone who dares to read. If you do, do me a favor and pass on this blog addy to others. I'd really like some feedback from folks.

TTFN

Time Also Flies - When You're Losing Your Mind

A quick post, since my only reader Asia is quickly losing her grip on reality.

It's been an incredibly busy time, which further explains the lack of posts.  Between insane end of the year work in the payroll department, finishing my Associates' degree in Liberal Arts, fending off boredom and frustration in my Paralegal courses, and dealing with numerous other demands on my time, I haven't had any time at all to post anything.  So, I'm going to take a moment to give some more random thoughts.

Pakistan:  If anyone thinks that the governments of this world can make things better in the long run, just look at what's going on.  Someone assassinates Bhutto for whatever reason, and they think that it makes things better for them.  How?  In the end, violence begets violence and that region is already close to exploding.  

Baseball and HGH:  Boy, Roger Clemens is in a spot.  He says he's innocent of the use of human growth hormones.  But if he sues, then he can be deposed, which means that they can ask him any number of questions under oath.  You just know he doesn't want to do that.  But then, Pete Rose opens his big yap and says that these players have brought shame to the game.  Really, Pete?  And your gambling on baseball while you were a manager was ... what?  Good?  Less harmful?  Shut up, Pete.  You still need to learn that prized behavior, humility.  As for the problem itself, there's no way to go back and look for people to punish.  It won't work.  And Selig can't go on a witch hunt without pointing four fingers back at himself, and another finger at the Players' Union.  Just admit it was a problem, that a large number of players did it, start testing for it and punishing users now, and don't let it happen again.  That's your only option that makes sense.

The Primaries:  Boy am I glad that I don't have any part in the political matters in this country.  I have to admit, though; the humor possibilities are endless.

The Spears Family:  Go away.  I beg you.  Just go away and take Lindsay and Paris with you.  (Side note:  the mothers' book on parenting skills just moved from the "how to" section to the "science fiction" section of your local Borders.)

Writers' Strike:  Does anyone really miss network television?  And when are they going to stop calling shows "reality" series?  Do any one of these idiotic shows even remotely resemble reality?  Besides, I don't think the general public deserves good television if they didn't give Studio 60 on Sunset Strip a fair chance.  What a loss.  If you haven't done so, rent it on Netflix or just go buy it.  Quality television at its best.  Aaron Sorkin, on behalf of the viewing public, I apologize.  Please bring us another great series, but this time put it on a cable channel that will appreciate it.  (Just not HBO...I don't subscribe to it.)

That's all for now.  I'll try to check in again soon, if anyone really cares.  And if anyone reads this, please drop me a comment.  I'd love to read your thoughts.