The Eve of Christmas Eve

Last night, Sheryl and I sat outside on the front porch of Vino's on Duval in Key West. We had completed a full day of riding scooters and sightseeing, and had an incredible dinner at Mangoes.

As we sat, drinking our wine of the moment, I realized I was a little chilly. So I took a blanket off the chair next to me, and covered my legs - bare from the knees down.

Watching people walk by, overhearing bits and pieces of conversations - in English and other languages - we gazed at the Christmas lights decorating the businesses across the street.

I had a sudden moment of clarity. I was in the perfect place at the perfect time doing the perfect thing with perfect company.

Another blessing.

Conclusions

There are many reasons to count our blessings. I acknowledge my appreciation for things daily.

Lately, I've been working on an experiment using the concepts discussed in "What the Bleep Do We Know?"

And I've found that these concepts can and do work. I also found that it was very difficult to step away from old habits and develop new ones. Oddly enough, I found that by being cold forced me to whine and bitch about being cold, rather than focus on my blessings and experiment.

I've talked about some parts of my experiment, but there was one I did not want to discuss until a couple of days ago.

They say that it takes three weeks to change habits. So, I decided that I wanted to change my drinking habit.

It wasn't easy to accomplish his. I got some hassle, but I persisted. I didn't know what to expect, but I did know that if I was able to achieve my goal, then my sense of will power was strong enough to accomplish anything in life. Yes, somewhat drama-queenish, but something nonetheless I felt I needed to prove to myself.

And I learned some things, too. I learned that I slept better. I learned that I felt better. I felt that I could focus better.

And people who knew me 10+ years ago won't comprehend this, but I learned that I missed drinking wine, and experimenting with wine more than anything.

Over the last year or so, I haven't really enjoyed what rum and other hard liquors have been doing to my body. Of course, I have had a tendency to drink excessively at each sitting as well, but that don't count, right?

So the experiment is over, and I am eager to take these lessons I've learned and find out how they help me become a better person, and what amazing things I can accomplish.

It's all a process. And if we're lucky, we never stop learning and testing ourselves.

Notes on the Experiment

I've only been working on this experiment for a week or so, and I can already say that I feel confident that it will work. There are too many coincidences to make me think otherwise.

There are four items that are part of the experiment:
1) Identify moments in the day that Sheryl and I are grateful for (thus opening ourselves for positive occurrences);
2) Receive a job offer down South (which nearly happened, but I realized that I wanted to stay at my current position a little longer, so I turned down the opportunity);
3) and 4) They still have not occurred, so I will keep them to myself... until they do occur. I am confident they will.

But the gist of the experiment has been to determine whether I could change things in my life by changing the way I think about them.

I have been really fascinated lately by the Quantum Edition of "What the Bleep Do We Know?" There are hours upon hours of bonus information regarding quantum mechanics and quantum physics, and this is what ignited the concept of my experiment.

Daily, I think it's important for me to remember: "I make myself available to the infinite possibilities." By saying, and believing in this, I recognize that there is no limit to my life. There is nothing I can't do (without the proper work being done).

And now I'm excited to see what I can accomplish with this knowledge.

Let's finish Items 3 and 4 first, eh? :)

Life

On the day that I learned that Elizabeth Edwards died, I went with my amazing wife to see the pulmonologist.

18 months ago, a CT scan showed a spot on my lung. My oncologist - as thorough as he is - put me through three more CT scans to ensure everything was alright. And then sent me to the pulmonologist. As long as the pulmonologist said everything was okay, then I was in the clear.

Well, I am in the clear, although he wants one more CT in the spring.

So, how did I celebrate?

I went to the Y, and rode 16 miles on the trainer.

It's good to be alive. How do you celebrate your life?

"Life has no limitations, except the ones you make." - Les Brown

The Daily Dose

As part of my experiment, I have been trying new things: being more positive, being more aware of my surroundings and opportunities, appreciating what I have, and focusing on my desires.

Part of being more positive has included asking Sheryl what the best part of her day was just before she goes to bed. Doing this helps both of us to focus on something positive before going to bed. Maybe it's just a coincidence, but I have been sleeping really well lately...

The other things come and go, but as I work on each aspect of this project, I get a kick out of finding ways to make the best of myself and the opportunities available to me.

This morning, I tried to focus on the experiment while I was working out, but didn't have a lot of time tonight to meditate on it.

Tonight was big, though, met a personal milestone, and helped make someone's day. These are positives that will help along the way.

As I further refine the parameters of the experiment:

Today, I make myself available to all possibilities that will ultimately lead to a positive outcome.

My favorite part of the day was seeing all of the smiles I saw tonight, including hearing my aunt say that she hasn't laughed that hard in a long time. Made me think about all the laughing I did today. Very positive. :)

The experiment...

So I am working towards a moment that will be a great benefit to me. I am trying different things, like eliminating negativity from my life. By doing this, I believe that I can make more positive things more available to me.

There have been some struggles over the last few days, but there has definitely been some positively stranger things happening as well. Today, despite some non-positive occurrences, I found that there were a number of occasions where I was "in the right place at the right time". Or "someone was just looking for me," and there I was. This is an important development towards my goal.

Something else important came to me as well. Three quotes that idealize things I need to keep close during this experiment:

"The ultimate reason for setting goals is to entice you to become the person it takes to achieve them." - Jim Rohn

"Find peace in your heart. It will spread over the world. The effect of it is strong and immediate." - Yoko Ono

"It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the one most responsive to change." - Charles Darwin

These have all come to me since I decided to undergo this experiment. This tells a big tale.

Today, I open myself to all positive opportunities, and recognize the changes within me, and around me, no matter how small or how large, that occur as a result of opening myself up to these positive opportunities.

I'm getting excited to see what happens next!

I'm three days into my experiment, and I'm still in learning mode. Still trying to figure it out. It is good, and it's going to be good... if not GREAT!

Today I open myself to all POSITIVE possibilities.

There's a lot to learn here, and I'm not quite ready to move on yet. Be patient, my pretties...

Today: I open myself up to all possibilities.

I am performing an experiment. I expect that the outcome will be favorable for me, and it will take 45 days to complete.

Each day, I add a piece of the puzzle, ultimately ending up with the desired outcome.

Bear witness to this experiment with me. Let's travel the road together.

Today: I open myself up to all possibilities.

Thanksgiving thoughts - 2010

One of my daily affirmations is "I am gracious, accountable, and focused."

Grace, in my mind, is to be appreciative of what you've got. So in a way, Thanksgiving is every day for me.

I am grateful for things that fall into major subsets - people, situations, and things.

I am grateful for my wife, who swore she'd make me laugh every day, and she keeps her word.
I am grateful for my mother, who is probably my best friend.
I am grateful for my brothers and sister, because no matter what, we know we can count on each other.

I am grateful to be back in touch with many family members that I'd fallen out of touch with.
I am grateful to be alive, and to have a chance every day to make a positive impact on the world around me - especially my wife's world.
I am grateful to understand what it is to be healthy, and to be healthy and happy.

I am grateful for a job that reminds me that I love to work, and I love being a technical writer.
I am grateful for my bikes - Shtiya and Moyo - my strength and my heart.
I am grateful for the wisdom that I earned from the University of Hard Knocks.

On the night before Thanksgiving, I listen to Black Sabbath's "Paranoid" album, and Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon". They remind me of when I first truly listened to those albums - on the day before Thanksgiving, when my grandma came to spend the night, and help my mother with Thanksgiving dinner preparations. When I think of my Grandma Rodgers, I recall how much I love her, and how much I love my Grandma Cummings. Both named Rose, ya know...

So thank you, Thanksgiving, for granting me the memories that remind me that our past is a blueprint to our children's future.

Thank you everyone.

A Rock Lobster Treat

I just spent the last 30 minutes writing a piece that touched my soul regarding John Lennon, and the PBS special "American Masters".

And through a computer glitch, I lost it. It was deleted.

Gone.

Finito.

It must have divine providence.

Thank you, my spiritual guides. I love and miss you.

Get Back Jojo!

People always talk about "If I could go back in time, I wouldn't change a thing...". But what if you really had a chance to go back?

What if the you who you are now, could go back in time? What if you could take someone with you? I mean, I would totally take Sheryl. I think we would have so much fun being as wise as we are after 43 years (44 for me), and seeing how different things would be.

If it wasn't for cancer, I would not be the person I am now. Sheryl and I might not have ever met. BUT... what if we were already married, and what if I could be 35 again, and not have to go through cancer again, but still have the glory of youth and excitement of all the years ahead of me?

Instead of 40 glorious years together, we could have 60, and we could have fewer aches and pains, and blah blah blah...

I love my life. I say it over and over, and I completely believe it. Sometimes though, I gotta admit. I wish I had everything I have, but could have a few less worries, and have the spirit of being young.

Oh well, I guess that's what I get for watching live Weezer videos while nursing a bit of a cold. :(

Red Red Wine...

In the late 60s, Jimi Hendrix recorded an album with the Band of Gypsys. The amazing album has a song on it that Clapton and Winwood recently covered, called "Changes".

The first lyric is "My mind is goin through them changes, I think I'm goin outta my mind..."

And that thought lingers with me as I look back on today's visit to the Cloverleaf Wine Shop in Royal Oak.

But that's not truly the beginning of this story. It really starts a couple of years ago.

I am perpetually trying to improve myself. Tweaking and changing, trying to become a better person. Part of becoming a better person is trying to live long enough to achieve betterdom. One night, I decided to choke down some red wine. After all, it's been lauded as a health enhancer, and I am all for enhancing my health.

A day or two later, I thought I'd choke down red wine again.

And eventually, something crazy happened.

Actually, two somethings crazy happened:

1) I got better results from my doctor.
2) The red wine eventually started tasting pretty okay.

So... on trips to Costco, I started trying different red wines, and actually found one in particular that I liked.

Now we fast forward to a couple of weeks ago. Sheryl and I went to Royal Oak for dinner, and stopped by the Cloverleaf - a small, locally run wine and crafted beer shop.

Scott, an employee there, greeted us, and offered to help us find something or answer any questions. By now, I had grown weary of simply looking for bottles of red wine with cool labels. I wanted to gain a little knowledge, and understand a little more about what the hell I was drinking.

Scott took some time with us, and supplied a few suggestions based on my weak explanation of what I thought I liked in a wine. He explained flavors, grapes, growing locations, costs and the like. Most of which went over my head.

And we walked out of there with five bottles of wine. Most of which were in the price range that I felt comfortable paying for.

As soon as we got home, I popped open a bottle that Scott highly recommended - Tres Picos. Sheryl and I both loved it. In fact, I thought it was the best damn wine I'd ever had...

It turned out that I really enjoyed three of the five bottles, and "merely enjoyed" the other two.

Fast forward again to my visit to the Cloverleaf today.

I walked in and started looking at bottles of wine. I still wasn't sure of what I was looking for, but I knew the general area to look in, to find something I might like. Scott walked by.

"Dude," I said, "you were dead nuts on the Tres Picos. It was the best wine I'd ever tasted."

If you think about this, this is something that everyone wants to hear about their job. This is the ultimate compliment (aside from giving someone a raise...), no?

So Scott and I talked about wine. He made more recommendations, and I started to sort of kinda understand what he was talking about.

"My mind is goin through them changes, I think I'm goin outta my mind..."

Mr. Beer Drinker. Mr. Tequila Taster. Mr. Rum Drinker, Vodka Drinker, Margarita Drinker... talking wine???!!!

Yes, 10 years ago, I would have never seen it coming. 10 years ago, I would have never seen marriage coming, either. 10 years ago, I would have never seen cancer coming.

It's all about growth, I guess. It's all about betterdom. The more you learn about things you don't know, the more learned you become, no?

So here I am, eager to taste the five new bottles of wine that I got earlier today.

Crazy.

Changes.

Wishing Tree

When I sit underneath the wishing tree and look to the sky,
What do I wish, and why do I... why?
I wish for a few things which I will get to,
But before I start asking for things, I keep it real...
I say thank you.
I thank God.
I thank the angels.
I thank those who have inspired me and have passed.
I thank them for that, I thank them for this
I thank them for my brothers and sis.
And I thank and thank and thank.
I thank to be alive.
I thank for my wife.
I thank everyone for everything.

And then I start my wishes:
Please bless so and so and such and such.
Everybody and everyone.
And
Please help Sheryl and I achieve our goals.

I am a fortunate man, who's got an angel for a wife.
I think I know how to love life.
Birthdays are frickin' awesome.

The wishing tree has limbs of steel,
Carrying wishes upon its leaves.

I don't add much weight to its branches.
I just love lying nestled in its umbrella of hope.

How Cycling Made Me A Better Driver...

I pay more attention to spots where cyclists COULD BE.

How Driving Made Me A Better Cyclist...

I pay more attention to spots where cyclists ARE INVISIBLE... and try to BE VISIBLE.

That is all. Carry on.

(Re)Cycle

Yesterday, as I was riding into work, I bunny-hopped the same old massive crack that I bunny-hop every trip into work. The only difference yesterday was that I hopped right onto a rock.

The bike handled funny after that, and not in a take-my-wife-please way. Once I got to work, I saw the wobble. Later on, I saw the snapped spoke.

I was crushed and disappointed. I still have time, but I'm cutting it close to get my 20 rides into work this summer.

I'd just like to add that when you dearly love your bike, and love riding, and can't... you notice everyone else riding. They ride past you, mocking you. And I swear that a few of them flicked boogers at me, too!

Anyhow, it's painfully obvious that I need to take Moyo into the shop this weekend, and I hope like hell that she can be fixed right then and there.

I know, I know... I hear you out there asking: "What about Shtiya? Your strength and mechanical savior?"

I hear ya, brutha.

My beloved Shtiya has been sitting in the basement for about a year now. Neglected and sad, she bravely grew cobwebs and scared away dust bunnies and dirt beasts.

So I took her out to see the light of day. And she was happy.

Both Moyo and Shtiya needed a washing, so I carefully and gingerly wiped them both down. I put Moyo back together, and hung her in the garage to await the trip to the bike shop.

Shtiya, on the other hand, got herself some new tires and tubes. I was set to make her shine.

But as I wiped Shtiya down, I noticed her scars and scrapes. The poor girl - like me - had lived hard. I never knew that she had so many scars. It actually saddened me quite a bit. After all... she is in her twilight...

It got me to thinking about some of the amazing times we had together. Like riding through the Alaskan mountains, and over the Rocky Mountains... the rain-soaked trip into Helena, MT via 6,000+ feet.

Ahhh, the beautiful, melancholy memories.

I also found myself wondering how it will be when I bid my final farewells to Shtiya. Sheryl will never demand that I get rid of her. It will be all my decision when it is time.

I'll get a decent ride on Shtiya this season, yet. And I'll try to keep her from getting too old.

But one thing for sure is that I can always say that we had one helluva ride (my first 100 mile ride!).

Sometimes, I get into a mood to write, but I run into a problem:
I don't know what to write about!

There are so many things going on in the lump on my shoulder (which I call a "head"), that I feel there is a logjam. This is different than writer's block, because intuitively, I know that some sort of writing will be produced - unlike with writer's block.

The weather is starting to change, and I am already getting lazy and missing Moyo. This, of course, despite the fact that I'll be riding to work tomorrow, and have a number of rides still left this season. Man, what a great riding season this year!!

I signed up for my first alternative energy class, which starts after Labor day. I am so freaking excited, it is ridiculous. I have always wanted to save the world, and with this knowledge, I might actually be closer to achieving the unbelievable!

We've got plans every weekend from now until October. Birthday parties, bike rides, and lots of hanging out with friends.

My wife is the best thing to ever happen to me. Period. Seriously, I thank the angels every night for allowing me to marry one of their own.

Our 42" splurge of a television quit working 6 weeks after the warranty ran out. NEVER BUY A VIZIO TELEVISION.

I am doing some managerial administrative stuff at work that I've never done before. Although I relish the chance to learn something new, I am also out of my comfort zone. Ick!

Come on, football season!

I am reading a very good book right now - The Last Lion - a biography of Winston Churchill.

Being healthy is killing me. Seriously, why is it not against the law for insurance companies to screw us over? Of course, the argument could be made whether you can put a price on health and knowledge. I now happen to know that despite this stinking Sjogren's, I am healthy. Can you imagine what it's like to know that? To know for a fact that YOU ARE HEALTHY. For the first time since I was diagnosed with Hodgkin's, I am healthy (overlooking the obvious! lol!).

And so, with that, I will sign off for tonight. I wish you all still minds, happy hearts, inward smiles, and warm, lengthy hugs.

Is it technically green?

Today I was talking with a co-worker about going back to school.

It got me to remember that I really love technical writing. I don't know why I am attracted so much to this career - it certainly has not been stable for me. Nonetheless, I love writing about things that I know very little about. It forces me to learn how things go together, and how things work.

Too bad none of it has to do with household repairs!

After many years, I've realized, too, that I like to be a leader, and manage things. As such, I don't think I could pick a better job than the one I currently have. Well, maybe one with some longevity....

I've been vacillating between going back to school for my master's, or for something else.

And I think I chose:

Something else.

Alternative energies anyone?

Once again, it's stuff I know nothing about. It's relatively new, and it is definitely ready to explode (so to speak!).

A couple of decades ago, I loved the Vampire Lestat books by Anne Rice. There were times that I would think about being a vampire. "What would be the coolest thing about being a vampire," I used to ponder. The answer was that I could become an expert at a lot of things - I would live long enough to learn everything. EVERYTHING.

I could spend a lifetime as a marine biologist, a lifetime as a mercenary, a lifetime as a priest, a lifetime as a monk, a lifetime as a geologist. I could have a flipping blast!

I could be a technical writer of vampiric proportions, and sweating my schooling moves would involve no sweat at all.

But here I am... human, living a life as a tech writer.

... About to turn this b!tch green!

Summer Saturdays

During my ride into work this morning, I passed the Madison Heights library. I often pass the library on my way to and from work, but this morning triggered a happy memory from my childhood.

In 1976 and 1977, I was 10-11 years old. Down the road from our house, there was a bus stop... for the library bus to take us to the library.

I really loved taking the library bus. I would go down to the bus stop on a Saturday morning, where it would pick me up, and then we would cruise all around Madison Heights to pick up other people who wanted a ride to the library.

The bus ride was a rush - I always liked exploring different areas of our neighborhood, but the bus took us beyond the places I could ride my bike to. For the bus driver, it was simply a drivin' job. But for me... it was always an adventure!

Eventually, the green and white bus would stop at the library, and I would run inside, and feast on all of the great books there. I remember that they had spongey yellow cushions on the floor, where you could take a book and read. Man, I knew that library like the back of my hand - talk about exploring!

Yup, back in '76 and '77, we lived 4-5 miles from the Madison Heights library. But every Saturday, it could have been 1,000 miles for this 11 year old boy.

Somehow, I always knew when it would be time to get back on the bus for the trip back home. I bet I always had stories for my mom about my great library adventures. 

There is nothing in this world like a morning bike ride.

 

The dew on the grass shimmers like glitter on the fresh lawns as the sun creeps from its sleep.

Houses and trees silhouette themselves on the horizon,

And the day feels brand new.

There are billions of things that can - and will - happen on this day, and new hope raises her skirt for just a quick electric peek into possibilities.

The silent woosh of noiseless air brushes past your ears, and the humid dawn erotically wraps itself around every inch of your senses.

Birds dance from tree to tree and wire to wire.

Squirrels race from yard to yard unworried about cars and trucks

and bicycles.

 

There is nothing in this world like a morning bike ride.

Whether the day ahead promises stress or peace,

Wisdom or stupidity,

Or all of the above.

 

A morning bike ride proves divinity.

Down at the Crossroads...

This past weekend, Sheryl and I went to Eric Clapton's Crossroads Festival in Chicago. Sheryl is a big fan of Chi-town, and I had only been there once, so I was looking forward to her showing me around.

We left around 9am Friday, and headed straight down to the Navy Pier to catch the 2:00 architecture tour boat. Wow! What a rush! Sorry to sound like a geographic moron, but I never knew that a river ran through Chicago! And the views were amazing from the boat, too. Whew!

After dinner at Harry Caray's restaurant, we headed to the "hotel". And wow. Let me just say that the next time I want to find a place in the Chicago suburbs where I feel like I'm paying by the hour, I would definitely go back... not very likely.

But the reason for our visit was Saturday at Toyota Park. The night heralded loud thunderstorms, and the weather outlook for the day was constantly threatening. But the rain never came. The clouds barely came, and it was hotter than hell.

We got to the park shortly after noon, and the music had already started. I was so excited! We kept telling ourselves that it was a marathon, and not a sprint. We used a lot of sunscream, I had bought a floppy expeditionary hat to cover my ears and neck, and we had our sunglasses and ear-to-ear grins.

When we got to our seats, Robert Randolph had just started. Our seats were straight away across from the stage (imagine end zone to end zone at a football stadium), 4th row from the field.

After an awesome Robert Randolph set, we decided to look for shade. We found a bit, and consumed a lot of water. Robert Cray played with some special guests, and we wandered around a little, watching Sheryl Crow perform.

It was the first time I'd seen Ms. Crow perform, and I was very impressed. She was a definite highlight... but then, the day was still young.

I had been looking forward to seeing ZZ Top and John Mayer. I had heard that they were great performers, yet had never felt the urge to see either one. ZZ Top played rather early in the day - around 2pm. I was really impressed with them, although I'd probably never go spend money to see them again.

Again, we wandered around, and eventually made our way back to our seats to see John Mayer, and the rest of the performances. I had a feeling that John Mayer was going to be good when I heard his trio was rounded out with Stanley Jordan on drums and Pino Palladino on bass.

And they ROCKED!

What a nice surprise. I think that's what this event was about - to see people perform whom you wouldn't normally see. I think I'm a fan, although I will be careful not to fall for the pop-py crap they've played non-stop on pop radio.

Buddy Guy played some smoking blues with Jonny Lang and Ronnie Wood. Susan Tedeschi and Derek Trucks hosted a mega free-for-all that included the guys from Los Lobos, and Warren from the Allman Brothers. Then another big surprise - Johnny Winter came out to jam. Unfortunately, he played horribly. I was bummed.

Nonetheless, the fireworks were just starting. Easily one of my favorites - Jeff Beck performed flawlessly. He played a bunch of new songs that I had seen him play last week in Detroit. I was hoping he'd play "A Day in the Life" so Sheryl could see/hear it, but unfortunately for me, he chose to play "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" instead. Sorry, I find that one a yawner. But he made up for it, playing "Rollin' and Tumblin", "Dirty Mind", and the Sly Stone song "Higher".

The man of the hour stepped up to the mic and plugged in after Beck. The sun had gone down, and although it was still hot, it was much more bearable.

Eric Clapton played a few songs, then introduced Jeff Beck who came out to play "Shake Your Moneymaker". Another snoozer in my book. But the night got better when Steve Winwood was introduced. Together, Clapton and Winwood played "It's Alright" and "Had to Cry Today" by Blind Faith.

By this time, I started to realize that if we stayed to the very end, we would be totally hosed trying to get out. Toyota Park was sold out, and 27,000 people would be heading to the gates at the same time. While Clapton and Winwood tore through an amazing "Voodoo Child" - the original slow, crushing version - I told Sheryl that I was ready to go whenever she was. We were torn by the parking situation, and Clapton being AMAZING. So as the jumped into "Cocaine", we made a beeline to the exit.

As we inched towards the car, I could hear the intro to "Dear Mr. Fantasy". Ugh!

We were exhausted, though. At 10pm, it had been a long, hot day. We were willing to give up the final hours-worth of performances. Besides... we were already planning to buy the DVD when it's released this fall!

Back at the shack, we choked down some 7-11 nachos and chicken tenders before diving into a deep deep sleep.

We were on the road home by 7am, and back at our house by 2:30. Home sweet home... a perfect coda to sweet home Chicago.

Dumela, Moyo!

Man, I don't know what it is, but this is becoming the best cycling season I've had in years! Although I'm not putting the long miles in that I used to, the miles I have been riding have been extremely enjoyable.

The rides that Sheryl and I are doing together have been great as well.

I wonder if I've just come to accept the pureness of a bike ride - the joy and child-like curiosity of human powered motion.

All I know is my heart - my corazon, my moyo - is full during and after every ride. I feel stronger and stronger, and find a ton of fun in riding the speed limit on 4th Street in Royal Oak (30 mph!).

Thank you, angels and divinities who make my bike rides so great. I feel whole again.

The Anatomy of a Name

 

I decided that it was time to name my "new" bike - which I've had for 2 1/2 years now.

 

You may or may not know, but my "old" bike's name is "Shtiya" - an Inuit phrase meaning "my strength". I chose an Inuit name because that was the bike that took me across Alaska in 2000.  I chose "Shtiya" because she was my strength and my drive when I needed it.

 

So the "new" bike has given me problems to this point - back problems, mechanical problems, etc., so prior to now, I really haven't ridden her long enough to name her.

 

As parents out there know, naming something - a child, perhaps - is hard work! Naming a "thing" versus a "who" is much easier, but still no real walk in the park.

 

I was gonna name the new bike "Ted". I'm not sure the reasoning right now, but it made sense at the time. But it just didn't FEEL right. This bike is more than a TED. And it is certainly a female.

 

So I stared at the bike for a while, and thought about how it made me feel. I thought about how I feel like a kid on her, and how everything feels right when I'm on that bike. I am SUPPOSED to be on that bike!

 

I looked around for some naming ideas, and knew it when I saw it:

 

CORAZON.

 

It means "heart" in Spanish. And the bike makes my heart beat with joy when I'm on her. Not only that, but when we partied after my cancer treatments, we partied with Corazon tequila. Which was fitting on so many levels.

 

I couldn't NOT call the bike Corazon. But... it didn't roll off the tongue as well as I'd like. And after all, what do I call her for short? Cora? Zone? Raz?

 

So I discussed it with some co-workers, and decided that I loved the concept of "corazon", but not the name.

 

This got one of my co-workers to do some research, and found the true new name.

 

"Heart" in Spanish is "Corazon". However, "heart" in Swahili is "Moyo".

 

Anti-climatic? No. Moyo is the perfect name, and when I say her name, it will remind me of my friend Nanky Seoke - an amazing woman I met from Botswana while riding across Montana. Nanky taught me a few words in Swahili, including "dumela!", or hello.

 

Dumela, Moyo. My heart is full.

Class

Sometimes - if you're lucky - you have a chance to do the right thing.

Much has been written and discussed regarding this weeks' near perfect game by the Detroit Tigers' Armando Galarraga. Much has been written and discussed regarding umpire Jim Joyce's blown call. But if you paid attention to the whole story, you will have noticed the undercurrent that flowed through it... class.

The city of Detroit gets no breaks. It's true, the city isn't an easy place to live in. Detroit receives potshots, but also gives potshots. It's a tough city.

But there is something that pops its head up now and again, and it often comes via sports...

Yes, Detroit has class.

Much has been said in past years regarding the Detroit Red Wings, and their captain Steve Yzerman. No one in Detroit would argue that the man oozes class. Current captain Niklas Lidstrom is the same way.

Sports give a city a chance to show its' class. Armando Galarraga and Jim Leyland showed a ton of class when Galarraga's perfect game was stolen from him. Did they whine and bitch and moan like we see so many times today in sports?

No. They were disappointed, yes, but they recognized something that we tend to forget about.

We're human. We make mistakes.

Over the last few years, the city of Detroit has been taking it on the chin. This week, the Detroit Tigers had a chance to do the right thing. They had a chance to take the national limelight and show the city's mettle. And they shone like the sun.

If I ever have the chance to do the right thing, I pray that I can show the class that Galarraga, Leyland, and Jim Joyce did.

If the limelight shines your way, how will you act?

Every Little Memory

8 years ago this weekend, I saw Parliament Funkadelic at the Detroit Electronic Music Festival (DEMF). I went with my brother, and friends, Scott and Michelle. I had just completed my 2nd chemotherapy treatment of 8.

I didn't feel great, but I didn't want cancer to change the way I lived. Ironic, considering it changed my life more than any one event aside from birth.

3 years ago this weekend, I was in Deer Isle, Maine, getting married to an angel.

I hope I never truly understand why I have been so lucky in life. Lucky to be married to such an amazing woman. Lucky to have survived cancer. Lucky to have such great friends. Lucky simply to be alive.

Yesterday, my angel was by my side when I went to see my oncologist. I like having her come to these appointments with me because:
1) She has a great relationship with my doc;
2) She knows what questions to ask (even though she doesn't always tell me what they mean...);
3) He answers her honestly;
4) She is sometimes a buffer;
5) And it's nice not to always see an oncologist alone.

So yesterday, Dr. Parikh, Sheryl, and I spent a lot of time talking about Sjogren's. This is a good thing. At this point, 8 years out of treatment, I want to blame all of my ails on Sjogren's, and not Hodgkin's - or any other cancer for that matter!

Every thing spurs a memory for me. This Memorial Day weekend spurs those thoughts first and foremost.

As my wonderful wife lies sleeping in bed, I think, too, about blessings. Memories and blessings. I've got a lot of both.

Sheryl, thank you for making my life more meaningful. And I mean that from the bottom of my cold heart, hands, and feet.

Have a great weekend everyone!

When I was a kid, I used to play and play and play until the streetlights came on, or until mom called us in for dinner. I loved playing. I loved being with my friends.

I loved summer nights, and playing all night long.

I was reminded of my childhood this week - I was blessed with the opportunity to ride my bike to work. I was like a damn Cheshire cat! And so I rode to work and back - 13 miles round trip. Afterwards, I worked on the yard - weed-whipping, mowing, etc.

And man, I had stuff to do! But while watering the plants, I realized that I was whupped! In fact, I felt just like I did when I was a kid - I was excited to be playing, yet my body was beat... my legs hurt, and my mom can concur that my knees used to ache like nobody's business!

So, this week, I was a bit depressed that I wore out so easily. It's the stinkin' Sjogren's... the same thing that doesn't let me shed a tear or spit without medication.

I came into the house, grabbed a handful of Motrin, and slugged it down with a dirty vodka martini. An hour later, my knees no longer ached, and I was ready to go to bed.

Tonight, as well as every other night, I love my life.

I just wish I had a little more stamina. Ummm... make that A LOT more stamina!

Our First Time

Well, it was a very busy weekend, and for the first time in four days, Sheryl and I are not spending time with Rey and Amanda, Aaron and Cheryl, Mike and Brenda, Shane and Lori... and John and Katie, Ron and Kathy, and it feels a little odd.

On a weekend when I was proud and honored to stand up in my cousin's wedding,
On a weekend when I introduced Sheryl to the remainder of my aunts and uncles,
On a weekend when I had so much fun...

We had our first time.

Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic" was playing. I was never a big fan of the song until only a few years ago, but here I was, arms around my beautiful, amazing wife, looking deeply into her eyes, and kissing her gently...

For the first time...

We danced.

“A Fan from Ferndale, Michigan got that one!”


Last Sunday, Sheryl and I went to the Tigers game with her brother, sister in law and nephew. After the game, her nephew was able to run the bases, and it was our first chance to ever get onto the field at Comerica Park.

It was exciting for us – probably as exciting as it was for her nephew. The line wound throughout the seating areas, and we had a chance to take a lot of pictures.

As we were filing out of the park, I had Sheryl stand next to the statue of Ernie Harwell, and took her picture. I took another with her and her nephew – and Ernie’s statue.

Little did we know that a few days later, the Detroit legend would lose his battle with cancer.

Everybody in Detroit knows Ernie Harwell. Everybody has an Ernie Harwell story.

And like everybody in the last 50 years who has grown up a baseball fan, I remember Ernie’s iconic voice calling the games of my childhood.

Oh, what a legend the legend became, though! People fell in love with Ernie Harwell because whether he knew it or not, he was with them through thick and thin. Through love and death. Through happiness and sadness. Ernie was always there.

Ernie Harwell went gently into the night. He went with the type of kindness and warmth that you would expect to see in a Buddhist monk. Ernie was a man just like any one of us. But through his legend, he became more than all of us.

People lined up outside of Comerica Park to bid farewell to the icon. The line existed for 15, 16, 17 or so hours. Grown man after grown man cried. People took pictures. Hearts broke.

Baseball is a game. Baseball announcers are just doing a job. But sometimes – and here’s your proof – one man can make a difference in his world. One man can cause tears of love to wash the streets of Detroit. One man is still just a man…

Unless you’re a legend.

The Righteous Brothers sang that “if there’s a rock and roll heaven, well you know they’ve got a hell of a band.” And if there is a field of dreams somewhere in Iowa, those ghosts now have one heckuva announcer.

I never met Ernie Harwell, but I am really sad that he's gone. Rest well, young man. Rest well!

Shuddup and holla!

Just got done watching the film "It Might Get Loud" - a documentary of a guitarist summit. Jimmy Page, The Edge, and Jack White traded stories and riffs.

Wow - freaking amazing!

If you are lucky, there are moments in your life that inspire you. I've been having a lot of those lately, but I haven't yet taken the time to let them sink in. I hope that time will come soon, but it is also very possible that that time has already slipped by.

Nonetheless, this film was an inspiration. Watching these three amazing musicians interact, and come up with their own sparks of creativity made me giddy.

I wanna be like them, yeah, you know I wanna be like them...

Big Bill and the Curtain Girls

My godfather died the other day. We weren't close at all. In fact, I hadn't seen him in approximately 1.3 bazillion years. Until today.

Out of respect for him, and for my cousins, I went to the funeral home. I'm so glad I did.

Once upon a time, my godfather was my uncle. After he and my aunt divorced, he became a ghost.

We have a large family, and a somewhat dysfunctional one at that. The last time that all of us were together was, well, I simply don't remember.

Within the last year, however, we have been seeing more of our family members. And one thing I have come to learn - I really miss my cousins.

It was such a thrill today to spend a little quality time with them. And as I left the funeral home, I felt melancholy.

Many of the cousins grew up together as kids. It was wonderful to have some of those memories come back.

Goodbye, Uncle Bill. You are in a better place. And for a moment in time, you brought some of us together. Thank you for that.

Enough For Me

She said that life was consuming her will to sing like Billie Holiday,
And that the shiny orbs in her kitchen were old friends visiting, aching for a strong cup of coffee.
She put marshmallows in her shoes to keep bad odors away.
I asked her why she ate a tablespoon of honey before each meal,
And she laughed and asked me why I breathed.
Early in the morning, you could see her practicing yoga in the dew-covered grass, as the sun filtered through the trees.
She smiled at you, even if she didn't know you.
She invited all of her friends over for dinner once a month, and gave each dinner a theme.
Often, her visitors were required to wear costumes to the dinner,
And the wine flowed through wee hours.
Now and again, you could see her at the club in town, practicing her horrible DJ skills.
She knew her limits and checked out of the place before 10:00.
As I got to know her, I chose not to look too deeply into her psyche,
For this woman portrayed a life of pure, unadulterated fun.
And she loved deeply.
And that was enough for me.

Robin Lee

Every now and again, I see a picture of the alternate life I wish I had - songwriter.

Last night, we went to see a Michigan singer, Robin Lee Berry, and she was the epitome of where my artsy side wants to be.

She mastered her performance - from singing dynamics to chord changes. She was a story teller, and wove charming stories amongst her songs of life - joy, sadness, inspiration, and rejection.

I always wanted to live within a community of story tellers and song writers. The magic and vicarious life, unmarred by the rush rush of business.

The irony is that the magic of that life is still integrated within real life. There is no way to avoid real life.

So the hauntingly lovely life that I see in my minds' eye will always be out of reach. And that's not all bad, because I love the life I have.

Tha Prez

Yesterday, while mowing the lawn, I found myself thinking about presidents.

Former president Clinton recently visited with the Miami Dolphins, and everyone seemed happy and excited. I thought about which president I would like to meet.

The answer was not simple. As I realized, there were many presidents that I’d like to meet. And the reasons are as varied as the men themselves. There is a thread, though, that seemed to link them. I would love to learn more about the man and his ideals.

Because it is my game, I got to set the rules: I could meet each of these great men one on one, and have all the time I want with them.

Without further adios, in order of their terms:

Thomas Jefferson (1801-1809). I’d like to know his take on the country’s development during its early years. I’d also like to know what he would think about things going on today.

Andrew Jackson (1829-1837). Ever since I wrote a first-class report on Old Hickory in elementary school, I have been fascinated by this man. I’d like to know what he thought about the development of the country during his presidency, and I’d also like to ask him his thoughts on the civil war, which happened many years after his death.

Abraham Lincoln (1861-1865). I’d just like to know about his dreams for the American people, and how he dealt with the burdens he carried during the Civil War.

Teddy Roosevelt (1901-1909). Teddy Roosevelt was an explorer and a true American man. I’d just like to talk to him and hear about his experiences.

Franklin Roosevelt (1933-1945). In the realm of great presidents, FDR was certainly high on the list. Bringing the US through a lot of social change brought about by the great depression, and World War 2, I’d be curious to meet the legend, and talk about every possible thing under the sun.

John F. Kennedy (1961-1963). Was he as great as everyone says? I’d like to find out for myself. My grandfather had a picture of JFK in his office, and I was always impressed by the man in that picture. I wonder what he thinks about his death bringing about the death of American innocence.

Barack Obama (2009- ). I really believe that Obama has the interest of the American people in mind as he implements change. I believe that he may not exactly know the best way to get these things done. I want to meet him, talk to him, and find out if I am wrong in my beliefs, or if I am simply being bamboozled. I really don’t think that’s the case, but I would love to have a chance to find out!

As a result of meeting these current and former leaders, I like to think that I would be more patriotic, more understanding of the way this country should be, and perhaps be inspired to do something about it. 

That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

Le Book de Face

Okay, okay, I know my posts are overdue. I blame facebook.

How many of you out there look at the book of faces and find yourself thinking: I don't care about your dog being lost - I don't care about how great shopping was - I just don't care!!??

Well, I do it - a lot - and I don't want people to feel that way about my blog.

So, when there really isn't a lot going on inside my bean of a noggin, I don't post much. I'm sorry, I really am!

So what on my plate these days?

Well, we are eagerly anticipating going to see the Tigers this year - as of now, we're going to see five games. We're also in the middle of the most wonderful time of the year - HOCKEY PLAYOFFS! And... the NFL is having their draft next weekend - and yes, I CAN'T WAIT!!

Sheryl and I are looking at new couches, trying to catch up with friends now that spring has sprung and we've awoken from hibernation, and Sheryl made some killer pulled pork overnight!

We're looking at timeshares, looking at vacation to the Crossroads festival in Chicago, and an extended vacation to the South at the end of the year.

Lots of great, exciting things coming up - especially with the nicer weather! Whoo-hoo!

So hopefully, that's a little more exciting than my dog being lost or Kohl's having a wicked awesome sale.

Maybe I'll try to be a little more relaxed and appreciative of facebook entries...

Hello Moon, Hello Sun, Hello Clouds, Hello Fun

Last two days in Detroit have been gaw-jus! Partly sunny and 80.

So who can guess what I did yesterday and today?

If your answer included "frickin killer bike rides", you, sir (or madam), are correct!

Yesterday's first bike ride of the season turned out to be 10 miles in 42 minutes. Yowza! Felt it today, but not bad enough to stay off the bike!

Today's ride, 11 miles, 47 minutes. Yay!

You could say the rides were perfect. Or boring. Or uneventful. Or just right. Or all of the above.

Nonetheless, I don't ever recall starting a season with back-to-back 10 mile rides. It feels good to feel so healthy - huzzah!!

So now I sit, listening to the birdies singing. Out on the deck with my angel of a wife snoozing next to me. She barbecued some killer Delmonico steaks for din-din tonight. Mmmmm...

Great way to start the season! Must be Hella-Good Friday!!

Dropping the Tre'

300 posts. Right here, right now. Who thought I'd speak my mind so much?

When I started blogging, I felt it was a way to keep my writing chops fresh. I had all sorts of ideas about things I could write about, and at the time, I had the time.

I started blogging in 2005... the same year I met Sheryl. Sheryl likes to credit her Gramps for our meeting. Ironically, Sheryl's grandfather died five years ago today. So milestone blog #300 seems to make sense. As such, I dedicate this one to yet someone else I would have really enjoyed meeting - Sheryl's grandfather.

Before I realized that this was Nr. Drei Hundert, I intended to blog about the HILARIOUS "Fluxus with Tools" event I witnessed yesterday.

A fluxus originator, Alison Knowles, performed with her daughter, Hannah Higgins, who is an art scholar.

Fluxus, as I have mentioned, I find HILARIOUS. I sat through this show grinning like a Cheshire cat, as Alison and Hannah gave us a taste of Fluxus (and salad, and a spaghetti sandwich...). I will never see a show like this again, and I'm so glad I went.

When I got home, I excitedly tried to explain it to Sheryl, laughing throughout... but I was the only one laughing. Sure enough, Fluxus gets lost in translation. Which is exactly what I feel fluxus is about - the viewer's experience.

Robert Fripp in King Crimson believes this - that a concert is about the now - the observer's experience. And every person, every observer, will have a different experience.

Frank Zappa felt similarly, I believe - that music is in the ear of the beholder. Music observed is a singular event.

In some ways, I find that amazing, and mind-blowing that every event I experience is my experience only.

But in some ways, I find that so sad. So lonely.

Millions of people can love the new Lady Gaga song, but why does each person love it? What are they hearing? Surely, they are not hearing the tortured cat that I hear. And although I may (or may not) enjoy an occasional tortured cat, I do not suspect I would enjoy listening to it.

Fluxus helps remind me of my individuality, whether I like it or not. Fluxus also makes me yearn for the ideology of what I envision as the true artist. The burned out artist. The person that Neil Young sings about in "After the Goldrush" - "I was lying in a burned out basement, with the full moon in my eyes..."

And yet, in a lot of ways, I see Fluxus as a bunch of drunks sitting around throwing out ideas for the next infomercial - "Dude, what if we came up with a vegetable cutter that you slapped... haha! yea, we could call it the slap chop! Haha! Get it? Get it?? Whoo-hoo! Pass the Nighttrain man, don't bogart it!"

Every moment, every sight. Every sound, every touch. It's yours. Take ownership of it. No one can take it away from you.

The scholars and life coaches tell us to live our own lives.

Dude, you can't help it!

One of Them Days

You know, it was just one of them days. I was tired and cranky, trying to stay on the positive side of the fence, but it just didn't work out.

When I was sick, I vowed to myself that every day would be a good day. It was natural, and couldn't be helped, compared to pissing dark-orange Adriamycin, and aching my way through Neupogen shots.

Alas, today was one of those days when those dark days of chemotherapy were forgotten, and the occasional dark day of everyday life crept in. I'm not proud about it. Actually, I'm sad.

The nice part, however, is that I have those horrible memories to keep things in perspective. Tomorrow will be another day, and I can right my wrongs of today.

Something strange happened to me today, too, that makes me aware or celestial order.

I was invited to a Fluxus event at the DIA this Thursday!

I decided to go. I'd like to share the event with my amazing wife, but it might be better that I go alone. When I come home, I can tell her all the cool things about it, and leave the boring things out.

And since I mentioned her, I just gotta say, "man, I love that girl!"

So three cheers for tomorrow - and not just cuz it's St. Patrick's day!

I've got a few of those stories, too... maybe I'll share them soon.

Mediartistry

When I was in my 20s, I wanted to marry music, art, and writing into an exhibition. I didn't (and still don't) know how it would happen, but I knew if it was supposed to happen, it would.

There are items in the DIA that tie a couple of the items together, but not all three. And much of the fluxus movement dabbled in combinations.

In the 90s, there was a big movement towards spoken word, which I embraced as a possible brother.

I am occasionally reminded of this dream, and the catalyst for today's memory is PBS' airing of Leonard Cohen Live at the Isle of Wight, 1970.

Holy crap, Leonard Cohen is talented! He uses words like Dylan, and music like Lou Reed. And he puts me in a place of comfort and imagery every time I hear him.

Oh, to be a weaver of words... carrying a basket of banter... ranting ravings of radical ridiculousness.

God bless those people who enhance our dreams, and who make those dreams more vibrant...

Hail the artist!

Vibrations

I read a great article today. Just the fact that I had a moment to remember to breathe today was awesome, so this article was a breath of fresh air.

I remember my brother telling me that he said affirmations while in the shower each day, and I thought he was a freak. I still do, but he's my brother... I can say that about him! :) Nonetheless, I started to realize the power of affirmations, and tried to dabble in it.

Last July, Sheryl and I went on vacation to (N)Asheville. The Asheville area is very forward thinking and a lovely place to go. It's much like Ann Arbor, but in the mountains. While there, I picked up a free magazine from a spirituality store. Impressed by the concepts contained within, I read the magazine from cover to cover.

One of the articles was a very impressive article regarding affirmations. It was at that point, that I developed a list of my own affirmations, and read them nearly every day.

I really think it works. I feel that I have become a better person, and have attained many mid-level goals on my way to greatness.

And to be honest, my affirmations help me focus on what I'd like to accomplish every day.

So it was with this in mind that I read Yoko Ono's article.

Now I gotta admit, I'm somewhat of a Yoko fan. I loved her book "Grapefruit", and when I went on my "lost vacation" after my cancer treatments, I ended up at an art museum outside of Raleigh, North Carolina that featured an exhibit from none other than Yoko Ono.

I'm not sure why, but the piece that I loved the most at that exhibit was the telephone. A card next to the working telephone said that Yoko was the only person who knew that phone number, so if the phone rang, you could answer it, knowing that it was Yoko calling. I thought that was so cool!!

It was only last year when I realized that Yoko's style of art had a name. As it turns out, Yoko is a part of an artist movement called "Fluxus".

Ironically, I learned this at the Detroit Institute of Arts... one of my favorite places on the planet. My wonderful friend Leonard and I went to the DIA, and I saw a new exhibit, which I was immediately enamored with. And there was a piece on the wall... I said "Hey, man, look at this... reminds me of Yoko Ono's stuff." And sure enough... it WAS Yoko Ono's stuff!

Yes, if not for John Lennon and the Beatles, me and a lot of other people would never had heard of Yoko Ono. Yes, she will forever be linked to the breakup of the Beatles. But be open minded. Look at what she's saying...

Isn't it at least KINDA cool??

Yer Head is Spinnin' (From a Loud Guitar)...

I love weekends. They are a time to recharge the batteries, and kick back and relax.

This weekend, though, hasn't quite been that way. We've been thrown off by little things.

It started Wednesday, and Thursday's 9:30pm departure from work didn't help. And yesterday... well, that was okay. A trip to the casino and the splurge of a buffet was awesome.

But this morning, we were up at our normal crack of dawn - awaiting the craftsman, who is doing some work on our house - moulding, flooring, insulation, and cabinet preservation. I'll tell you what. He was prompt, he was thorough, and he was awesome! Need some work done? We know someone...

We also made a trip to the tax guy. Once again, our taxes were all funked up. I'm not talking James Brown or Rick James or Parliament funk. I'm talking John Holmes and Linda Lovelace funked!

Fortunately, the damage wasn't too bad, but our heads were spinning. Round, round, baby right round... like a record...

And so it was, we came home, watched more TV, and ordered Tigers tickets. We're going to one game each in May, June, July, and August. Should be fun... wanna join us?

So our spinning heads lead us to right now. 10:30pm Saturday night. Sheryl in bed, me awake watching the original 1975 Rollerball. The original funk!

Tomorrow, we get back to it with more work on the house. And Monday starts a stressful week of work.

Wish I had my battery charger with me.

Anxiety Slop

I learned something interesting today.

I received an e-mail from our customer at work ("the government") saying that there were some problems with the book we delivered and they wanted to meet with us to discuss it.

My first thought was that I did something wrong, and it really bummed me out for a little while. I felt that I let my team down, and that they would lose respect for me.

Pretty strange, huh?

As I took myself out of the situation (i.e., went to the shop to ponder my dilemma), I realized how ridiculous those thoughts were.

And where did they come from, anyway?

I realized that they somehow stemmed from childhood, and I need to please people. Somehow.

In this case, however, this meeting is exactly what I expected. My team did the absolute best that we could with the tools that we were given. I have been leading them properly. We just need to get a better understanding of what our customer wants.

This will be a great meeting, and I'm interested to learn how far we are away from what our customer expects from us.

I'm glad I had the presence of mind to think through my initial feelings... those thoughts seriously could have bummed me out for the rest of the day.

What did you learn today?

Green

This morning, I decided to check out some music videos on demand. I thought I'd check out the new Rob Zombie video, and in no time, I found myself...

Jealous.

Yep. Jealous.

I have an awesome life. I am incredibly grateful for the blessings I have. But I gotta admit...

I think I could grow accustomed to a California lifestyle.

The video was shot in a home studio, with crazy paraphernalia covering the walls, floors, etc. I believe that this was Rob Zombie's actual house. And the sun was shining through big glass windows.

And I thought, "Sun? Wha-?"

And it got me thinking to the culture and lifestyle that I think is really cool - artists.

Now, I know that the lifestyle is not even close to how I envision it... Chevy Chase proved that in the movie "Funny Farm".

But I love the idea of having a big home office with big, bright windows that I could open to sunshine, even in the dead of winter. And in this big home office with big, bright windows, I could sit and write amazing stories about amazing people and their amazing journeys.

And I would make amazing money and experience amazing personal growth, and Sheryl and I would have our own amazing journeys that other people would aspire to have...

And maybe even be jealous of. On a cold winter morning.

Dog Days

Okay, so the first couple weeks of August are considered the dog days of summer. Historically, this is because Sirius - the dog star - is prominent in the summer sky. But for me - and I might not be the only one here - I always used to feel like a dog during these days, panting desperately under the hot sun. In my neighborhood, the dog days of summer are evidenced by empty,  post-armageddon streets, and constantly running air conditioners.

Now if August hails dog days of summer, I think that mid-February hails the three dog nights of winter. The term "three dog night" comes from a saying (and I'm paraphrasing here) - The night was so cold, it took three dogs to keep him warm.

Don't mistake the term three dog night for the band, although it is sorta nice to classic pop music our way through the winter - let alone this blog. After all, WWJD (what would Jeremiah do)?

Methinks he'd probably make haste towards someplace warm - which right now, as evidenced by snow in 48 of the 50 United States, is someplace mysterious.

In the meantime, I reckon I'll run the piss out of our furnace, and watch professional bowling on ESPN while trying to figure out what to do on Sundays post-Superbowl.

Happy three dog nights of winter, folks. Keep warm and bring joy to the world!

ANXIETY

Do you - or did you - ever have a friend or family member who always made you feel a little dread every time you saw them?

I realized today that I have one of those people in my life.

The only reason this person is in my life is because I very possibly might not be here if not for him. And I think I love him.

I'm OBVIOUSLY talking about my oncologist.

This morning, I went to see Doc P, and I swear to god, I break into a sweat when he examines me.

The good news is that everything is good - just as we expect them to be!

The bad news is...

Hah! There is no bad news! Huzzah!

This year, I've decided to make an effort to be more gracious. And believe me, I am EXTREMELY grateful that my amazing wife and I are healthy. I pray every night that this can be so we can share many happy healthy years together.

So yes, Doc P, despite the mad love I feel towards you, I am still often deathly afraid to see you. As I told you today (true story!): You are one of my good problems.

My friends, live strong. Live well. And many blessings upon you all.

Marco

When I was a very young boy, I had a friend named Marco. Marco was a cool Italian kid whose parents had surprisingly Irish names - Pat (his mom) and Lucky (his dad).

Now however Lucky Marco's dad was is debatable. My luck isn't.

My luck used to run either hot or cold. Until I met Sheryl. Since that moment, my luck has run about as good as good could get!

And so it is with complete gratitude and humility that I wish my wonderful wife a truly happy birthday.

Call it lucky, call it blessed... whatever. I am the one married to an angel. It says so on her wedding ring (and not "Gai Pan" like we were afraid it said!).

Happy birthday punkin. Thank you for all the good you've brought into my life. I pray that we celebrate many, many more of your special day!!!

I love you!

Faces in the Crowd

It has been quite a strange few days.

Not long before my dad died, he attended his 30 year high school reunion. He had a blast.

Just prior to my 10 year reunion, I had heard that the 10 year was filled with everyone puffing out there chests, and maintaining old cliques. But the 20th, I'd heard, was everyone bemoaning failed marriages and such. But the 30 year was where everyone had come to understand their lot in life, and people got along great.

Nonetheless, I attended our 10 year reunion. And it pretty much sucked.

So I skipped the 20 year (actually, I wasn't invited, but I could have gone if'n I wanted to). And lately, I've been thinking to hell with all that crap. I would be happy not attending another reunion at all.

So along comes Facebook. And I'm still feeling like I don't want to see most of the people I went to school with. However, without really noticing, all sorts of mini reunions have begun to occur.

The other night, I was chatting with someone I hadn't heard from in 25 years. And out of the blue, I get e-mails from people whom I had forgotten I was close to.

And today, I met with a high school friend whom I hadn't really chatted with since our senior year in high school.

It's a mind-blowing world in which we live. For sure.

For now, I'm happy with these mini reunions. I could still give a shit less about seeing everyone. Time changes things, though, and as long as you go into it with open eyes, there's really a lot to see.

I wonder what wonders tomorrow may bring...

One

It's a lazy saturday. I'm getting ready to do my workout. My wife, whose birthday is a week from today, is in the office doing office-work-type-stuff.

I had an interesting day yesterday. I interviewed two people for a job at work, and hired one of them. It was the first time, however, that I had to tell someone that we went with someone else. That was sad. But, we have someone in house who will definitely help. The person originally in that role could not be counted on, and that really sucked.

So for now, I am enjoying the quiet of this lazy saturday. In a few moments, my ADD will kick in, and I will be running around the house like a kid on a sugar buzz. So many things to do, and so little quiet time.

Hmmm... nothing more exciting to say. For now.

What's new?

Alright, so over the weekend, I spent some time transferring some of my vinyl to digital. It is so refreshing to hear some old, old REO Speedwagon (Flying Turkey Trot, anyone?), and some of the crazy stuff I used to listen to in high school.

Sometimes, it makes me nostalgic for the past, and sometimes it makes me wonder what's coming next.

And sometimes, I can hardly think straight because I am working a lot these days.

Music soothes the savage beast. Soothe me, Blue Oyster Cult, soothe me, Paul McCartney, soothe me Debbie Harry...

So what's new with you?

Hello America!

It is 2010, and I read my horoscope for the year. In a nutshell, it said that all my hard work will pay off this year.

I sort of laughed at it initially, but I also sort of know it already.

My life has been weird. I have gone through a lot of crap, but I have also had some of the greatest moments in life.

But the one thing I have always had, was a positive way of looking at life. I have always known that things will work out as they should. And so far, they have.

It's true that I do occasionally get jealous of people who haven't been mauled by the family dog (January 18, 1977), or those who haven't had cancer (2002), but I don't think I can be blamed for that. And you know, overall, I realize that they should be jealous of me.

Survivorship is the ultimate in hard work. On TV, Survivors have to eat rats, worms, and other things just to win a million dollars. Hell yeah, that's tough stuff, but real life survivorship helps you realize that life is so much more than all the drama yo mama can handle.

I have worked very hard my entire life. And it has paid off.

It helps that I am lucky, too. Not multi-million dollar lottery lucky - not yet at least - but extremely fortunate.

I am blessed to have the family and friends that I have. I am lucky to have found someone like my wife. And although the stars may hold my future, I know that hard work will pay off.

So in 2010, as I work hard to see positive results, I wish the best and greatest love and luck to anyone out there reading this. And even those who aren't.