Next Step in the Search and...the Doctor!

Well, I bit the bullet and decided to hire an investigator to find my birth family. Not that I want to meet them. I just want to know where my ancestors hail from.

So far, she has already got confirmation of my last name, and is in the process of tracking the maternal side of the family. The paternal side is going to be virtually impossible.

With that in mind, I received an advertisement that says they will track your ancestry via your dna. And it's under $200. They say that they can go back 1000s of years to trace where you come from. I'm curious though...how do you prove it? How can you tell them, "You got it wrong!" All they have to say is, "Prove it!" You can't! Not unless you have verified documentation saying that instead of coming from Germany you come from Geezbookistan. I still may do it, though. Just for giggles.

Anyway, I'll update this blog with more ancestry info if I get it.

On a side note, I finally watched the Doctor Who episode, "The Waters of Mars". What can I say? Fan-stinkin-tastic. David Tennant really proved what kind of actor he is in this one. The look on his face as he decided that he was the Lord of Time and could do as he pleased was fanatical! Overall...even if you aren't a big Doctor Who fan, catch this episode. Along with "Blink", it may be the best ever.

Finally, three cheers for the Sacramento Kings. Down by 35 points in the 3rd quarter, and they come back and win on the road in Chicago. This is a new attitude Kings team. Anyone who can't get behind this team just doesn't like basketball. They are already nearing the total wins for last season, and we're still in December! Tyreke Evans is a stud, Jon Brockman is a self-sacrificing rebound machine, and the rest of the team is infected with the "team" bug, which makes these guys fun to watch. Coach Westphal...I don't know what you've done, but keep it up. And Sacramento area...get these guys a new arena, will ya? It will keep events coming to Sacramento and will help to eliminate the Cow-town label. Get it done!

Shopping with the Dry Heaves

Nice title, eh? A bit graphic, but the imagery works. Why? Because I hate shopping for anything in December.

Oh, it isn't the crowds, although those are annoying. People with their credit cards in hand, not learning from past mistakes, and going into debt buying items that will be returned most of the time for something that the person really wants.

It isn't the decorations, although those get on the nerves. If I see one more Satan Claus (oh...did I spell that wrong?) waving at me to encourage me to spend my hard-earned money I'm liable to take a baseball bat and see how far a mannequin can fly.

Actually, the worst part is something that my wife and I experienced yesterday: the incessant, repetitive music. Yes, Rudolph sung in reggae style is different, but the song remains the same. (With apologies to Led Zeppelin for stealing the title.) It isn't just that I don't celebrate Christmas, but what about Jewish folks? Do they like to hear these songs over and over again? And to make bad things worse, these stupid songs end up running through the brain like a scratchy recording of cats being tortured! I have to sing "It's a Small World After All" to get the Christmas song out of my head. Not that I like "Small World", but it's preferable. Rather like being hit with a brick so I don't feel the knife in my back.

Don't these stores realize that I'm more likely to linger and spend money if I don't have to run out screaming with my hands over my ears?

The sad thing is that there's nothing I can do about it. Well, there IS one thing. Can you type "A-M-A-Z-O-N-dot-C-O-M"?

Searchin'

I am adopted. What does that mean to anyone? To me, it means that I was fortunate enough to be taken in by someone who cared enough to call me by their name and to raise me as if I were her own, because in her eyes I was her own. My adoptive mother died several years ago, and her ex-husband, my adoptive father, died a number of years before that.

I never knew my birth mother. I never really found out her name or a lot of information about her. Why? California is one of those states where the only information you can obtain is "non-identifying information". So, there are a few things that I know about my birth parents. They weren't married. My father was supposedly adopted as well, so even if I were to find out about him, it would likely lead to a dead end. My mother was 23 when she gave me up for adoption. I know a little about her, but not much. However, my adoptive sister gave me a clue about my origins. Supposedly, she saw my file when she was at the adoption agency with my adoptive parents. (She was in her late teens at the time, so I trust what she says she saw.) She saw the name "Pringle" on the file jacket. I did some research using Ancestry.com and a couple of other sources, and I did find a Baby Boy Pringle born on my birth date in the city of my birth. So, that seems like a positive start.

Now I'm stuck. Even on Ancestry.com, I can't find out anything. What do I do? I'm tempted to hire a private investigation agency to track down the info, and that looks like my best shot.

A question I am often asked, though, is if I want to meet my mother if she is still alive. My answer? Not really. She gave me up, and from what the adoption agency says, she had good reason to do so. I'm not searching to try to recover lost family. I would just like to know where I come from. Where is my family originally from? The name Pringle is Scottish. Do I have that ancestry? Can I trace my roots back to the lowland clan of Pringle? How cool would that be? I would just like to know.

California needs to give more information. I know that birth parents want to remain anonymous, and I can respect that. But they need to understand that eventually the adopted person is going to have that longing to know where he or she comes from. It hurts a bit to hear how some people can trace their ancestry back hundreds or even thousands of years, and I can't trace mine beyond me.

So, I search. I dig. And I come up largely empty.

Ms. Pringle. If you ever read this and you know that you gave birth in January of 1964 in Los Angeles County, give me a hand, will you? At least help me to know where I come from.

Just a Quick One

Just adding a quick note so that I don't lose the habit again.

I have decided that YouTube is both a plague on humanity and a curse. Why? Where else could you see something like this? Noooo!!! The cuteness!!! It's...horrible!!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Bmhjf0rKe8&sns=em

The Weather's a Changin'

California weather is bizarre. We have no autumn or spring. We have winter and summer and that's all. Having said that, we have gone from 60 degree plus weather one week down to a predicted sub-freezing night and 45 degree day. That may seem like nothing to those who live in Minnesota, New York, or Alaska, but to me it's incredibly jolting. I don't mind the cold. I don't mind the rain. I don't like the idea of having to hitch a ride to work with my wife because I can't ride my motorcycle in the rain, but that's another matter entirely. Still, I just wish we had four seasons in this state.

I lived in upstate New York for a grand total of 3 months. I arrived in late August of 1982 (don't laugh...I can't help being old) and left in December due to my utter failure to succeed at the university I tried to attend. (I refuse to get into that right now.) But the beauty of seeing the leaves change in waves was remarkable. From the third floor of my residence hall, I could look north and see a line of trees in the midst of a color change. The wave of red, orange, and yellow progressed towards my location each day, until it reached the local trees and moved past us to spread the glory to the rest of the state.

A short time later, most people had left the college to go home for the Thanksgiving break. I was stuck at the college since my home was in California. As I walked along the empty campus, it started to gently snow. I looked about the old buildings mixed with the new classroom halls, and was stunned by the silence and beauty of the snowflakes gently wafting past and coating the earth.

Why do I write this? I don't know. I just recognize that with all of the benefits of living in California (the economy not being one of them), I miss the seasons that I saw for those few months in New York. Sad? Perhaps. More like melancholy. Time for some Jim Croce and a cup of tea.

On another note...happy anniversary to Sam and Tami! Best wishes to you both!!!

Justly Chastised

Never let it be said that I don't take counsel well. I have been justly chastised by a reader for not posting regularly. Guilty as charged. I can't really say why, but it could be due to my back pain, due to how busy I've been, or due to the lack of reasonable content flowing through what I laughingly call my brain. Still, I should be able to write on one topic or another, or at least rant a bit. Without further ado...a long-missing variety of commentary. (And now for something completely different...)

NBA: I had almost given up hope on rooting for the Kings. After a 17 win season last year, I knew that they had hit rock bottom. Still, I didn't have much confidence that things would change. Can you guess how pleasantly surprised I am by this team? Granted, they are only 8-8 for the young season, but that's nearly half of the win total for ALL of last season! On top of that, they are energetic, feisty, defense-oriented, and fun. How great is that? Now let's get them an arena and we'll be in business.

Television: Someone asked me my opinion of the mini-series "V". I couldn't tell you. I didn't like the original and had no interest in the current. You know, remaking shows isn't always the best idea. For example, AMC recently showed their remake of the series "The Prisoner". Granted, the original could be a bit confusing and the concluding episode was rushed and bizarre. But that was nothing compared to AMC's version. What a load of rubbish! It never established a true storyline and the conclusion was lame. It was as if the writers, director, and producer all got together, smoked some pot, took some Ecstasy, and wrote whatever came into their drug-addled minds. Stick with the original. It's more fun.

However, that is not to say that all new things based on older ones are bad. I present to you ... Doctor Who. The final 3 episodes starring David Tennant as the Doctor are going to be presented starting in mid-December. Some time in 2010 we will see the newest Doctor. When the BBC brought this series back with Christopher Eccleston, they went with what worked: good stories and good characters. Then, they added modern special effects. The result is a very satisfying show. Do you want an episode that will have you on edge until the end? An episode where, after it is complete, you will exhale loudly after realizing that you were holding your breath? Then check the episode "Blink". Very cool.

Finally, on the subject of television...Top Gear. More! I want more of that!! (Apologies to Jeremy Clarkson.) Watch this show, even if you don't love cars. It's so cool.

Well...not finally. I'm currently watching the history of Monty Python: Almost the Truth. If you are a Python fan, give it a watch. But understand that it is long and there is some bad language.

Books: Cara Black writes a good story. If you love Paris, read here Aimee Leduc mysteries. They are fast-moving and take you right into the not-so-nice sections of Paris.

That's about it for now. I'll try to do this more regularly. Mea culpa.

To Anonymous Posters

I only have a moment, so let me be brief.

I am getting anonymous comments to my blog again. Nothing foul, but anonymous.

I repeat what I have written before: If you don't have the courage to include your name, your comments won't be posted. Period. Even if they are complimentary, they won't be posted.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled surfing.

Not Whining....Well, Maybe...

I realize that my posting has gone splat. Believe me, I'm aware of it. Yes, I've been busy. Yes, I will still be busy over the next couple of weeks. But it isn't just "busy-ness" that has kept me from writing here.

Pain is a funny thing. Not funny "ha ha" but funny "odd". I have dealt with back pain for as long as I can recall. I didn't injure my back, but I deal with the effects of scoliosis. It is particularly annoying when the weather changes. You know the image: some old geezer on the front porch in his rocking chair saying, "It's gonna rain. The rheumatism in my knee is acting up." It may sound funny, but it's true. I really can tell when the weather is going to change by the pain in my back.

In this case, though, it isn't changing weather. My lower back is so bad that I can hardly walk at times. As I stated in my last post, I'm going to a chiropractor for it, but so far no big changes. Where am I going with this post?

For some people, pain acts as a focus. They are able to push it aside and really bear down on whatever they are doing. For others, like me, pain makes focus impossible. Add ADD to that and you have a complete meltdown. I am only writing now because I realize that my blog is getting a bit musty. But I am currently walking like Doctor House. (Where's my cane with the flames on it?) There are some who use a cane for sympathy. I'm not one of those. I don't use a cane and I probably should be! Anyway, I think I was writing about pain. I guess what I'm asking for is a bit more patience with this blog, and asking too that no one abandon it. I will write, and I will be working on my manuscript (after I get a French public talk written that is due at the end of the month...).

Anyone got Vicadin?

Chiropractors, Insurance, and What the Heck?

I started seeing a chiropractor this week. This isn't something new for me. Since I was in 10th grade I have been seen by these doctors at various times. When you have scoliosis, it can be another source of treatment.

My back has grown progressively worse over the years, to the point where, in the last two weeks, I have been in severe pain that has made it difficult to do anything. So, I checked on the Mighty Google (capitalized for emphasis and required respect) and found an office right down the street from my home. This isn't just any chiropractor. They actually have medical doctors on staff and do physical therapy as well as chiropractic.

It seems that every chiropractic office has little quirks. Some go for homeopathic medicine; others go for machines that, when attached to the shoulders, make you shrug involuntarily for many minutes (I'm unsure what that unpleasant machine was supposed to do); to the current office that uses a newfangled version of the rack to stretch out patients while intensely vibrating the fillings out of their mouths.

However, after going through x-rays and a consult, I found out that the recommended treatment procedure would last for about 38 weeks and cost over $4000. Yes, you read that right. I could get it lowered by a bit for paying cash. Okay. It's still out of range. Before you ask, yes, I have insurance. However, it is Kaiser insurance, which doesn't cover chiropractic. So where does that leave me? Well, I can change insurance companies during open enrollment, which might lower my copayment to something in the $1 - 2000 range (I'm waiting to find out the damages on Monday), but I have to change doctors and pharmacies, as well as go visit the new doctor to get my prescriptions transferred over. It's all a pain, but may be necessary to get some non-surgical relief.

I am, fortunately, one of the lucky ones who has insurance available to him through his employer. There are many who don't have that option. Either they can't get insurance because of a pre-existing condition, or they can't afford it, or whatever. So, they don't get preventative care or don't go to the doctor when their problem is in an early stage...instead, they have to go to the emergency room where the cost skyrockets.

My statement for this blog is as follows: In one form or another, we all pay for medical care for the uninsured right now. The bills going through Congress are trying to make some changes to the way the insurance industry has to operate, but some people are saying that they shouldn't have to pay for the uninsured. Don't you see? You already do! But wouldn't it be cheaper to allow people to see a General Practitioner on a regular basis to avoid serious problems than to wait until these folks hit the emergency room and are admitted to the hospital, where they HAVE to be treated and where the cost rises through the roof? Who pays for that? Again...we do.

Something has to change. For me, it is something as simple as changing plans in January. For others? Who knows.

I think my back is hurting from stress as well as scoliosis. I'm going to go take a Tylenol, lie down, and keep my eyes focused on a brighter future, where insurance won't be necessary, and "no resident will say, 'I am sick'."

Grizzly

I was asked an interesting question today. I was asked if I haven't written anything because I'm too busy or because I have nothing to write. I had to think about that for a minute. I guess the answer is both.

Things have been very busy lately. Writing parts for meetings and talks is hard enough, but doing it in French is even tougher. Thus, my mind tends to go in that direction. However, I have to say that I really haven't felt much like writing these last few days. I wrote some stuff for my manuscript last week, but then hit the wall. I just got caught up with other things. Add to that the fact that my back has been giving me fits lately, and I just don't have the enthusiasm to write anything. Still, that's not really an excuse, is it?

I called this blog "Time Teaches". In the past, I have included little things that I have learned from experiences, both good and bad. I just wanted to write something short this evening. It is something that I have learned about myself, especially this weekend.

I'm not going into detail, to avoid embarrassing the person or people involved. But I learned that I am more protective of friends than I ever thought. I never really had close friends until recently, and I was never in a position where I was responsible for shepherding others. I have learned that I can be a grizzly bear sometimes when it comes to protecting my own. Is that good or bad? Who knows? But it does mean that there are people out there that I care about very much, and no one, either person or spirit person, had better mess with them on my watch!

That's all. Not much, I know, but I just don't have much to say right now. I'll try to do better next time.

Writing Is Hard

Day two of my "stay home from work and try to get some writing done" experiment. I have to say that I'm a bit disappointed in myself and my attention span.

Now, before you get any ideas (Angela), let me say that I did not spend all of my time on Facebook or the like. Actually, the first day I spent some time learning a new program designed for writers called "Scrivener". I went through the tutorial and then realized that I would have to type in everything I had written so far. (The import function wasn't working as smoothly as I had hoped.) As I typed, I made some minor changes, added a few things, subtracted a few things, etc.

By the end of day two, I have redone everything from my blog, and added a bit more. Tomorrow will be a big test. I'm going to try to write a lot of new material, as well as work on my French public talk.

I have also had a lot on my mind, with my situation at work. I think I'm just going to try to continue to work on myself and not let the "others" get my goat. I can't fix them, and I can't let their childish fits get in the way of my well-being. (Easier said than done.)

That having been said, let me rant a bit.

Sports: Do you ever get the feeling that people spend way too much time berating referees and umpires. Sure, they make mistakes. I'd like to see you call balls and strikes in a baseball game for a bunch of millionaire crybabies in front of tens of thousands of raving fans. Or how about being one of three refs running up and down a court all night trying to watch ten guys moving about at the same time? Frankly, I don't think I could do any of the officiating jobs. Heck, just umpiring Little League bit hard. Give 'em a break, and pay them what they're worth. And if they suck...well, if they get paid a lot, then they can handle the verbal abuse, right?

Nobel Prize: Sheesh...it isn't like Obama nominated himself.

Fox News: I'm not political, but tell me these guys aren't writing the talking points for the Republicans. I dare you.

Peet's Coffee: I didn't order my beverage "extra hot". Do you have to make it molten lava level every stinking time I order coffee? I mean really. I'm sending you guys my tongue graft bills.

Cable Television: It's true. I thought it was just a joke, but it's true. I have about 400 channels and there is NOTHING on worth watching! Nothing!!

California Politics: Don't you think that when the Legislature's approval rating hit 17% that things would change in this state? I mean, if only 17% of voters approve of the job the government is doing, how do the same people keep getting elected? I think it's because voters blame the politicians in everyone else's districts. Surely it can't be their official's fault, can it?

That's all for now. I'm tired. Sleepy night night time. (See? My writing ability is shot. Start again tomorrow.)

Days Away

I have decided to take a few days away from work. It isn't because I'm going anywhere in particular, but because I'm trying to avoid blowing a gasket and making a bad choice. I've been so frustrated and angry at work lately that I've been tempted to quit and find another job. But I can't afford that, so I have to calm down.

All last week I tried to put on a new face. I tried to be helpful, humble, and polite to all I dealt with. It wasn't easy, especially when certain people went out of their way to be annoying. But I thought I was succeeding pretty well. Until, on the last day of the workweek, it happened. I was trying to get everything done so that I could take a few days off. I was working hard, juggling a couple of projects along with an extra test file run for the sake of the people who were annoying me most. To make a long story short, one of the people I had been "warring" with over the last couple of weeks attacked me sarcastically to a vendor. The reasons are unimportant, but I was busy with something for her department and figured she could work with the vendor on a schedule for her department. But no. She slammed me. I held my tongue, informed my supervisor, and got absolutely no understanding from him. Frustrating doesn't begin to describe the feelings.

Anyway, I have no idea what will happen next. It isn't going well.

So, I decided to stay home for a few days, try to work on a manuscript and a public talk, and come to grips with life.

Maybe I can finish and sell this stupid manuscript and quit my job! HA! And maybe I'll win American Idol, So You Think You Can Dance, and Iron Chef in the same month! That is, if I could sing, dance, or cook.

I need a sedative. (Or is it a "sedagive"?)

Rude Awakenings

Today was not a good day. I just got a rude awakening, having someone explain to me that the person I want to be is nowhere near the person I show myself to be. Confusing? It can be.

I like to make people laugh. I have always tried to do so with a quick wit, biting humor, and a false front. This false front has caused people to give me the nickname "Oscar", as in "the Grouch". I relished the nickname, as the people who know me understand that it is just an act and it gives them a laugh. At least, so I thought.

After a talk with a manager at my workplace, I have come to the realization that it has become more than an act. It has become me. A grouchy, uncooperative person who thinks he knows best and scares off people rather than attracting them. Yes, I'm a relatively private person who likes his "alone time". But I never wanted to be someone that people purposely avoid, dislike, and think of as a roadblock rather than a problem-solver. But that's what I seem to have become.

The manager told me that I cannot fix things overnight. It is a process that will take giving people confidence one phone call, one office visit, one email at a time. He's right at that. But there's another aspect of this. I didn't know. I didn't know, because no one bothered to tell me face to face. Apparently, they spoke behind my back and never had the courage to face me. I'm not a scary person...or maybe I am. But I have always tried to be upfront with people and let them know if something is wrong. That way, we can fix it. That isn't what happened here. The tension reached a breaking point and I had to pin down this manager in his cubicle and ask him what I was doing wrong. I'm grateful that he had the courage to tell me.

What does this mean? It means that it is time to take matters in hand and fix things, one person at a time. I need to practice what I preach. And that is a literal statement.

I like my friends very much. I don't tend to see their flaws, because I know that I have so many of my own. Because of that, I see the positive far more often than I see the negative. But do I say this? Do I let others know that I appreciate them?

I've been told by those in my congregation that they like how I do things. I've been told that I am approachable. And yet...I'm not. Not at work. Not as much as I should be with my friends.

That needs to change. I'm not sure how yet. I'm not sure if I'm in time, or if it's too late to repair the relationships at work that I have damaged. But in order to preserve what's left of myself, I need to try. I need to look to the Great Exemplar to see how I should act. And I need to apply it.

To those who read this who see the negative in me: I'm sorry. Truly. Be patient with me. I'm a work in progress.

A Quick Thank You

I don't have a lot to say today, except I did want to say the following:

To those who have been reading my blog, who read my manuscript excerpts, and who left constructive comments --- Thank you.

Some people write blogs just to amuse themselves. In fact, I think most people do, because we always wonder if anyone is actually reading them. When someone stops to comment, it can be very rewarding, indeed.

When I decided to write some pieces of "French Bred" (no pun intended on the "pieces" expression), I hoped that maybe someone would get a smile out of it. Aside from some comments over some grammatical errors or a case of redundancy, I also received some very positive words from some folks. In fact, a coworker who was on leave of absence read the excerpts and felt the desire to let me know that she liked what I wrote. I was a bit flustered, and for once in my life didn't know what to say.

I am lousy at accepting praise or even positive reviews. I have never had high self-esteem and have always had issues with accepting complements. So let me just say that even if I hem and haw and don't seem to say much when you give your opinions on my writing, that I truly appreciate every well-thought-out correction, expression of like or dislike, and every complement I receive. I just rarely know how to accept it.

To all who have read: Thanks. Please continue to express yourselves, and turn others toward this blog if you will. I give my word that by the end of this year, I will have taken firm steps toward finishing the manuscript.

It's a Day that Ends In "Y"! Rant Time!

Why do I call this a rant? Usually, it's just miscellaneous thoughts that pop into my somewhat confused and unfocused brain. Still, rant is as good a name as any, I suppose.

Weekend football: Is it so wrong of me that I'm happy that the San Francisco 49ers are 3-1 (and should have been 4-0) while the Dallas Cowboys are 2-2? Probably not. Before the season started, I told a friend that the Niners would finish with at least 9 wins, and the Cowboys would not make the playoffs. Looking good! Still, I never sit down and just watch football anymore. I usually don't have the time. I heard it said during the week, though, that football is such a violent and damaging sport that it should probably be banned. I guess we could ask ourselves if it isn't a bit like the chariot races in ancient Rome, or the Gladiatorial Games. With the lifelong injuries that some of these guys suffer, maybe we should question if it's appropriate to enjoy these events. Sure, there is some spectacular athleticism shown in these games. However, how many stories are we hearing lately where some ex-football player has brain damage, can hardly walk, or dies young because of the injuries sustained playing football? Is it a guilty pleasure watching this sport, or should we just avoid it if we are opposed to violence. Maybe that's why I don't watch it anymore. But then, I shouldn't be cheering on a team, either.

Basketball Preseason: I would be more enthusiastic about this season if the Kings hadn't won a whole 17 games last year. I have doubts that they will do much better this year. Plus, with the bad economy and the threat of the Kings moving elsewhere, it's tough to get excited. But I would love to see a game this year. Just wish I could afford it.

Go Away Jon and Kate Plus 8! I am so sick of reading news reports about these two losers. The only reason they are famous is because they popped out babies and their relationship is dysfunctional. I have an idea. Let Jon go and marry the Octomom. Now THAT'S quality television. NOT.

House: The season opener of House was alright. I decided to withhold judgement until episode 2 of the season. Can it be? Are they getting rid of the final two substitute doctor / assistants? YAY! I particularly didn't like "13". Still, it will be interesting to see how they merge a kinder(?) Doctor House into the premise of the program. The show was based upon his pill-popping, anti-social, throw a solution at the problem and see if it works type doctor. I'll see episode three, with Darth Vader voice James Earl Jones as the guest star. "House. I am your father, House."

Psych: USA Network. Friday nights. 10 pm. Watch it. Or else face my sarcastic wrath!

Eureka: How can a season be like 6 episodes?? You get me hooked in again and the season finale is after 6 episodes? Curse you SyFy! (SciFi?)

Motorcyclists sans Armor: When the vast majority of riders have no armor other than a helmet, you want to just slap them. Idiots.

Old and New Friends: This weekend brought back some old friends who moved across country. They came for a short visit, and I realized how much I missed having them around. On top of that, they brought with them a couple from France for the time they would be here. I am not going to post names here, but they are two of the kindest, funniest, and most enjoyable people I have met in a long time. I'm so glad to have met them and been able to spend some time with them. But I'm still ticked that my long-time friend speaks French so much better than I do! (Yes, I'm jealous, okay?)

That's it for now. I need to go have some lunch and figure out how to get myself in gear to write my manuscript. Crikey, I'm lazy!

Adult Beverages

Last night, I enjoyed a very nice meal out with friends. As part of this meal, I discovered a few things about various beverages of an adult nature.

1) Gin tastes funny. One friend ordered a gin martini made with cucumber. I could taste the cucumber, which in my opinion does not belong in any kind of beverage, and I could also taste the gin - which also does not belong in any beverage. Gin just has a funny, slightly nasty tang to it that makes it clear to me why people add tonic water to it: tonic water is more nasty than gin so it makes the gin taste acceptable. No gin beverages for me. Ever.

2) Herbs do not belong in martinis. Another friend ordered a martini that included mulled thyme. Thyme is good in so many different foods. I just don't like to see it floating in a chilled beverage.

3) Too many fruity things in an alcoholic beverage disqualifies it from being an alcoholic beverage. That goes for flavored booze as well. I heard one person describe a chocolate martini as a candy bar with a kick. No thanks.

4) Grey Goose makes a great martini! For myself, I decided to order a classic. A vodka martini made with Grey Goose vodka. It's powerful, for sure, but it also has a combination of flavors that is very appealing to me. It is clean and classy.

4b) I agree with Alton Brown of the show Good Eats: James Bond drinks a wimpy martini. Anyone who orders "shaken, not stirred" is ordering a beverage where the ice breaks and melts quickly in the martini, thus diluting it severely. If Bond was a real affectionado of martinis, he would want it pure, not watered down. Shame on you James.

5) Scotch is an acquired taste, and if you have not acquired that taste, scotch smells and tastes disgusting. I don't want to have to work hard to acquire the taste for something that is that expensive. In reality, I don't think I could acquire it even if I wanted to. I can't get past the smell of it!

So a new question is: Why did I write an entry about booze? The reason? I needed to write SOMETHING, because I haven't written in a long time. So, any comments should focus on what is good or bad in adult beverages. I will preface this by saying that you will not change my mind, so just speak your mind as expressing why you like or don't like something.

Writer's Block and Focus Issues

As some of you may know, I have hit a wall. Not a literal wall, although I sometimes wish it were so, but a figurative wall. It is a wall of my own making. It is a barrier as imposing as a mountain. It is, as you have guessed, writer's block.

The terrible thing about writer's block is that it should be easy to get past. One should be able to look at the computer, say, "Oh...this must be what writer's block feels like. I'd better get back to work!", and move along one's merry way, typing like an entire tome was going to pour out onto the page. Sadly, this is not the case.

Combine said block with the fact that I have attention deficit, and you see a horrible problem. In order to write, I have to be organized. In order to be organized, I have to be self-motivated. In order to be self-motivated, I have to have confidence. When I fail to be self-motivated, I feel guilty and dislike myself. Say goodbye to confidence.

What is the solution? Writing classes will tell you that brainstorming can help. That's where you sit at the computer and just start typing whatever pops into your head, no matter how nonsensical. It just involves letting the ideas flow from your mind and through your fingers. After the exercise is over, then you can either scan the document to see if there's anything you can use, file it away for future use, or delete it as a load of rubbish. But supposedly, it's like putting a crack in the dam. Once it's there, it's just a matter of time before the wall crumbles and the ideas pour out in a torrent.

Right.

And I'm Walt Whitman.

Still, it's kind of what I'm doing right now. I'm brainstorming. Just writing whatever pops into my head. Sort of. It's actually a rant with purpose.

I'll do better tomorrow. I promise.

Hugbees! Skittles! Wombats! (There goes that derailed train of thought again.)

Help a Webartist

Sorry I've been out of commission for a week. I've hit writer's block extraordinaire. However, I wanted to write this quick plea for assistance.

There is a webcomic that I have praised for awhile. It is called "Count Your Sheep" and is written by Adrian Ramos. It is a good-natured and clever strip that deserves attention.

Adrian has entered a new comic in a contest. It appears that this contest could really help his attempt to do this work full-time. The story is called "My T-Shirt Fairy Tale". Don't let the title fool you. It's pretty clever and merits a look.

So here is my request. Please go to:

www.zudacomics.com/node/1485

Register, read, and vote for "My T-Shirt Fairy Tale". Then, if you send Adrian your email address to: tshirtfairytale_fans@ymail.com, he will send you a little zip file of gifties, including an electronic version of a children's book he wrote.

His regular comic can be found at: countyoursheep.keenspot.com

I don't know Adrian personally, but I really like the heart behind his work. Please give him your vote. It won't cost you anything except a few minutes of your time, and a smile after reading his work.

Be back with my regular blog very soon.

Les Moto-crottes

*** This one's for a nagging person to tide her over. You know who I mean, Angela. It will probably be in the manuscript in some form, but I thought I'd throw it in here for fun. ***

As I walked through the outer suburbs of Paris, I learned a very important life lesson: keep glancing down as you walk. Now, one can't do this all of the time, unless one wants to become very close friends with a lamp post or the bottom of a long flight of Metro stairs. However, it is absolutely necessary in the areas that are not exactly Paris, but are suburbs attached to the city. There are land mines present. Not the kind that literally explode and do shrapnel damage. No, these little brown bombs are left behind by four-legged terrorists, and their "free to do as I wish" owners. If you wish to keep your shoes clean, you have to learn a couple of moves that, here in the U.S., might qualify you to join the Cirque de Soleil. It is a move called the "glance and dodge". Here's how the dance goes. As you walk, whether alone or with someone else, you must keep your eyes flashing downward, at least 10 feet ahead of where you expect to be. Upon seeing telltale evidence of sidewalk mines, your mind must, in a flash, determine whether you will dodge left, right, or gauge your steps to deftly walk over the pile without skipping a beat. Failure to do so may result in laughter, illness, mockery, or a new brand of disposable footwear.

This problem doesn't exist in Paris proper. I wasn't sure why. Nor was I sure how. Paris is a busy, crowded metropolis, with more sidewalks than one can count. I imagined an army of men in Ville de Paris green uniforms, pooper-scooper in hand, running down the sidewalks disarming the bombs before they can explode. It was only later that I found out that the City of Paris has an amazing tool for cleaning up the m***de. They are motorcycles equipped with vacuum systems that literally scoop up the poop as the rider travels along. They are affectionately called the moto-crottes, "crotte" being a slang term for, well...you know. I'm unsure how one would add this to a resume' or a job application. "Well, Monsieur Homme, I see that you worked for the City of Paris, but I can't really understand what a maitre des crottes actually does. Can you explain it?"

As for me, I think it's genius. While it would be even better if, instead of the dogs, the masters could be trained to clean up after their pooping poodles, the motorcycles with the vacuums are a brilliant way to keep the streets cleaner. And yet, it was my brother-in-law who gave me a better name for this equipment. He works for the City of Paris, and he knows all the in's and out's of what it takes to keep the streets clean. His name for the motorcycles? Caca-sakis.

You have to love that French sense of humor.

I Feel Old

As the title suggests, I'm feeling old tonight. Oh, not because I'm feeling sickly or run down or my hair is turning particularly grey or falling out (which it is). No, I'm feeling old because of my son.

Tonight, before he went to bed, he decided to point out to me that as of tomorrow, I am now the father of two children who are legally adults in all 50 states, and one who is nearly at that point.

As close as I came to smacking him across the room as he snickered at my attempts to ignore him, I had to admit that he was right. But what does it mean? Isn't age just a number? Of course it is. They say you're only as young as you feel. Right now, I feel old.

As I look back over the years, I realize just how quickly they have flown. It seems only yesterday that this now-adult son of mine was playing pick-up-sticks at his grandmother's dining room table and getting upset because he lost, whining in French because he couldn't speak English. It wasn't so long ago that I married his mother and he looked up at me and immediately started calling me "papa", accepting me as a father rather than a step father.

I think of my other son and can see him sitting on the floor watching cartoons while I tried to catch a quick nap after a 12 hour shift at work. I see myself reading him stories from his Sesame Street books while doing the voices for him and making him laugh.

Now I see two young men, taking their own places in the world. My hair is now salt and pepper, except on the top where it is deserting me quickly (the cowards). My knees are a bit creakier as I climb the stairs. There are lines forming where they were expected, and hair growing where it wasn't. And I ask myself, "How much did I miss? How much of their growing up did I miss because I was lazy or I wasn't prepared for how fast time would go?" I'm sure that I missed far too much, and I know that I would do a lot of it differently if I had to do it all again.

I'm not ready to be a grandfather, nor am I desirous to be one. Oh, it isn't because I don't like children. But I look at the world today, and I think back to how difficult it was to raise children when things were even a bit easier than they are now, and I realize just how tough it will be on the next generation.

I always believed that when considering the future, expect the end of this system of things tomorrow, but prepare in case it isn't. I really hope that paradise is soon and that God allows me to be a part of it. But I know that this system is in bad shape, and raising kids in it is a gargantuan task.

Still, I think back and wish that I would have had the opportunity to raise kids in perfect surroundings, with me being a perfect parent. And I know - it didn't happen that way. I can only hope that as my kids think back on their childhood, they feel that I didn't do such a bad job after all ... for an old man.