Sad people. Angry people.

I just changed the ability to post on the blog. No more anonymous posts. Some pathetic jackass posted nasty things about my kids and made a bunch of weird claims about how I dump on teachers (huh?) and that I need to follow the law of a certain unnamed TV personality.

Ah, the psychos ruin it for everyone.

Elvis, Jesus, and Sirius.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

My personal religious beliefs have me celebrating the birth of Jesus today. I think Jesus' most lasting gift (and by his own account, this is the case) was the Holy Spirit. And my goal for 2005 is to be more in touch with that.

The more I read the gospels, the more I think John wrote a Federalist Paper. It's so different than Matthew, Luke, and Mark... and my recent reading of the Gospel of Thomas... well... it has me thinking.

So: Sattelite radio. Sirius sattelite radio. Wowza. I got it for Maggie so she could hear NPR more clearly, but we've been listening to Elvis Radio. I've heard more "new" Elvis in an hour than I heard in the last decade.

Well: rock on, everyone.

Dancing and singing: Signs of Evil?

My oldest son is a lot like I was, only better. Or rather, he's smarter, better looking, and funnier than me. But he's also MORE energetic than I was, if that's possible. What's really interesting about him is that he behaves in ways that my parents referred to as "evil" when they applied to me. In fact, one of the side benefits of raising three children is that I realize, quite frequently, that the things my parents deemed "evil" (yes, that's the word they used. Ick.) are basically normal kid behavior.

An example, w/o exaggeration: My kids, especially my oldest, don't let my wife and I talk. Whenever we try and talk about something, he starts interrupting, singing, jumping, dancing, rolling, flipping, rapping, whatever. While this is somewhat annoying at times (although he's a fine singer, jumper, dancer, etc.), it's also normal kid behavior, albeit normal for a high-energy kid.

My parents' definition of the above was "He doesn't want us to communicate so can destroy the marriage."

Show me a kid who WANT their parent's marriage to dissolve, and I'll show you kid who has been heavily bribed.

Hell hath every fury.

It's important to remember that, in certain cases, being utterly selfish is a requirement. Unless we protect those things which keep us whole, everything is lost.

Barricades, baby. Barricades.

Ah, Church. You crazy thing.

I love Church. I'm a Holy Spirit freak. It's true. I'll admit that.

And there's SO much good in it. Today the parish loaded a huge truck with presents for poor parents in other counties. The amount of donated toys was just amazing. So that's good.

I just wish there was room for discussion... to bring the fact that the Christian Gospels were partially a result of politics... and that, like the Federalist Papers, people were writing to prove a point. I think everyone should read a bit of Elaine Pagels. She brings a discussion to the table that is wholly respectful... which makes it wonderful reading.

Off to my Aunt and Uncle's house.... cheerio.

The morning after.

One thing I love about having given up alcohol is that I can wake up early the day after a big party (we had a whole bunch of people over for a neighborhood party/Maggie's 38th birthday bash) and not be a big cranky bastard.

Just another series in small blessings.

Two children are awake, and so far, both seem not to be about to throw up. One more to go.

G5 + iSight --> iBook = BABY MONITOR???

Well, I spoke to soon. My daughter has thrown up again , but this time she didn't make it out of bed. Laundry time. Having tried to go to sleep a couple of times, only to have my daughter get sick... I've decided to continue cleaning the basement....

Being unable to find the baby monitor, I hooked up my various machines, am an now monitoring Isabel via the Mac network.

Crazy.

Are trolls real?

It's 3:16am. My daughter just called me into her room and asked: "Are trolls real?" I told her that they were not. She said "I feel nauseous." And then she ran to the bathroom and threw up mightily.

She feels better now.

I need to see a shrink.

My anxiety levels haven't been this high since the 80's. I don't know if it's my job, the fact that receivables are a little out of control, or that I've been sick and threw out my back... but I'm experiencing that same low-grade level of panic I had until I was 21.

After 14 years without it, it's a real drag to have it back.

ParTAY!

I overdid it at a client's party last night. FOUR club sodas. Four! I got K-RAZY!

Actually, it was nice to be off the cane, on my feet, and with all the folks I used to work with. I forgot how many people I liked at that company.

Still, it's always strange to be a non-drinking dude at a party with an open bar.

The Non-Disney Diet.

So I gained many pounds in Disney World. I was up to 182. I also threw out my back.

Without ANY excercise, by simply lying prone on the ground, and NOT being at Disney, I've lost three pounds.

That says something.

Disney World is the BEST - with bonuses!

For all you who mock Disney World as the epitome of capitalist excess, all I can say is: DUH.

But get beyond that, and you have a REALLY fun place to visit with children. It's clean, beautiful, and has TREMENDOUS art direction... really amazing work.

The biggest bonus is this: Here in New York, I'm a decent looking guy, but nothing amazing. In Disnew World, I AM A SCULPTED ADONIS.

My god, America is fat. I mean REALLY fat. It was upsetting to see SO MANY fat people. Is this the true America?

Anyway, more later. I've only been home for 12 hours, and I'm processing.

Fear of flying. Fear of mice.

So I'm taking the family to Disney World tomorrow. I'm really excited... not as much about the trip, but about PROVIDING the trip. I'm trying to be a Conduit of Pleasant Transportation... instead of irritable and nervous, which I can sometimes be during travel.

I've prayed a lot on this.

I hate to fly. It scares the crap out of me. The last time we flew, we hit some big-ass turbulence. My oldest boy got scared, and I remember just PRETENDING. I acted all calm and reassuring, while inside I was like: "HOLY SHIT!"

Maggie and I went out for dinner tonight to do some last minute itinerary planning. It's a big World, after all.

12 inches of pure love.

Get your mind out of the gutter, people.

After a week-and-a-half long experiment with the inelegant crap that is windows, I am writing this from a 12" iBook, which will last me until the Freescale or G4 PowerBooks come out.

Man. that was a NIGHTMARE. It makes want to go back in time and slap the shit out Apple marketing folks form the 80's, for lettings such a crappy OS like Windows gain the upper hand.

You'd think it mattered.

It sounds good: Athlon 3000+ XP-M, 512MBs of RAM, 15.4" widescreen monitor.

Just one problem: it runs Windows.

I ebayed my PowerBook, thinking I would switch to Windows to gain access to better CRM software. So I got a decent price for it, certainly more than this notebook cost. And I figured I'd learn to like Windows.

The problem is: Windows SUCKS. Forgetting that I've had two bluescreens (I thought those were gone in XP?) that restarted my computer spontaneously.... it's SLOW, it's CLUNKY, it interrupts me all the time, and AAAAAH!

So I'm ebaying the notebook, and buying an iBook until the Freescale/G5 powerbooks come out.

I can't BELIEVE that 95% of the country uses this crappy operating system!

Correction: 4 hours, 17 minutes, 28 seconds.

:-)

That's the official time.

Brother, can you spare a knee?

I finished my first marathon! 4 hours, 20 minutes. Crazily, I did miles 13-26 faster than miles 1-13.

Huh?

Off to the bath. Then ice. Then, another bath. Then, more ice. Then sleep. Then more sleep.

Love ya!

Okay then.

I'm off to meet my friend Lisa. It's race time! I'm a little nervous. Cheers!

Lucky, lucky, me.

I am runner number 3231.

No matter what happens today in the race, I am incredibly fortunate.

How suite it is. (Or, Bowl of Gourds!)

So, I get to the Marriott, check in, and they can't give me a key. The key encoder is broken. But the bellfolks will take me up and let me in right away. He says. Sadly, the bellfolks were overwhelmed by the marathon crowd, combined with an onslaught of speech therapists. They asked me to come back later.

I come back later.

They give me a key. I go upstairs and enter the room. They kind of forgot to clean it. Yucky poo. I go back downstairs. The nice lady says "Whoa. Sorry about that. Let switch you to a hospitality suite."

Zowie! Conference table! SEVEN chairs! Couch! Huge TV!

AND A MASSIVE BOWL OF METAL-PLATED GOURDS!!!!!!!

Nice!

26.2 miles tomorrow. 26.2 miles. Holy smokes.

26.2 miles, redux.

I'm leaving in an hour for Philadelphia, where I'm running in tomorrow's marathon. After missing my first attempt at a marathon (Chicago in October) due to bronchitis... I'm nervous and excited about tomorrow. The scary thing is... I was really trained for Chicago. Less so for Philly. But I'm a-goin'.

That's funny, she doesn't LOOK fluish.

See, as an ex-Hebrew School (assistant) teacher turned Liberal Catholic, I feel guilty even making a reference to a REFERENCE to a joke involving Judaism. That's how little I want to offend people.

Jeez.

Anyway: My wife is sick. And I was on the phone with a friend of mine, and I said: "Listen. I'm going to try really hard, right now, not to speak angrily with my children for the entire day."

Now, this might now sound like a big deal, but I've got three kids going non-stop, and they all of the energy that I HAD when I was younger, and they're smarter than me, and they get cranky and fight with each other towards bedtime, and... well... it's very hard not to be snippy.

I prayed what I always pray: "Thy will not mine." And I tried not to be a jackass.

And I made it. Barely. My daughter started yelling for me for the second time after I had just gotten her brother to sleep, and she was yelling for me just to tell me, AGAIN, not to shut her door. Which I hadn't, didn't, and wasn't going to.

So here I am. It's 9:55pm, and everyone's asleep. I'm going to go get the puppy, bring her for a short walk, then make popcorn and watch bad TV until 11pm. I've been up since 4:30, and I'm really tired. I know that I'm really tired because I had an episode last night, where I got up and was all crazy during the middle of the night, with utterly no recollection of it this morning. This happened a lot when I used to drink, and it was proven to be a weird brain thing ("night terrors") when I went to a sleep clinic in the 90's, but it happens a lot less now that I've given up alcohol entirely. Only when I'm really tired.

That, and my right eyelid is, like, VIBRATING.

Catholics for birth control!

Look. I can see both sides of the abortion issue. Personally, I'm completely pro choice. And I truly believe that this is the right way to be. But I can see WHY people fee the other way.

(Unlike, say, being Anti-Gay. What the hell is THAT about? Senseless.)

Now, here's what makes me crazy. If you're pro life, why the hell aren't you pro BIRTH CONTROL? And don't give me that temp-taking, rhythm method bullshit. If you believe in ONE way of dodging a pregnancy, why not believe in the RELIABLE one's? You think that God get's mad about condoms, but approves of avoidance. You think God CARES about that?

That's all.

Pass it on.

What you're good at, share with others. And if you need help with something, ask.

Well, down the hatch.

So Bush won. Did you hear? He won fair and square, and he won a majority, not a plurality.

I think the reason comes down to this. Consider this Kerry argument, paraphrased: "I voted to give the President authority to go to war in Iraq, thinking he would do so only as a last resort. Instead, he went to war without evidence, without reason, and without international support."

This is WAY to complicated for the general American public. They need to hear things like "You can run, but you can't hide."

Maybe if Kerry said: "We gave Bush the right to bear arms, and just started shooting," then people would have gotten it.

Oh, well. Time to get more active in politics, me.

"Vote. For God's sake, vote."

An Army Ranger on two-week leave from Iraq said those words to me on Metro North today. In his pocket, he had a sheath of counterfeit Iraqi money (Saddam-style money, not the new stuff.) He kept it as a momento... even peeled off a bill and handed it to the woman sitting next to me on the train.

He said to me: "Two of my friends from college have been killed."

He said to me: "I don't even have a platoon. They deployed me with no assignment."

He said to me: "Vote. For God's sake, vote."

Luke 18:9-14

Jesus loves a sinner, my friends.

It's all we can do to find a few people who have opinions we trust, and then do our best to listen to advice well given. I'm fortunate to have a few people in my life who are a little farther along than I am, and who are wiling to tell me where they think I'm going wrong. And right.

The car in front of us had a big sign in the windshield: "Kerry approves of killing babies." I mean: even if you're anti-choice, what a stupid, stupid way to try and make your point. I'd posit that the only candidate out there who is actively killing people (men, women and children alike) is our President, with his stupid and personal war.

So, seeing this sign, especially parked in front of church, and especially when Jesus himself preached love for those with whom you disagree... welll... It took everything I had not to slash his tires, and affix the extra Kerry/Edwards bumper stickers I have in the van to his front windshield.

You see, I'm a sinner, too. But I'm working on it.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Man. Since I got sick a few weeks ago, I've really slipped off the beam. I haven't been running (much), I've been slacking a bit on church, not attending to my own sprititual condition, and my work vibe has been off. I've also haven't been writing much on this here blog.

What's up?

Since most of my negative behavior is generated by fear, I have to figure out exactly what it is that's at work, here.

Love, lice, and small claims court.

What a couple of weeks!

As happens to most families, one of my kids got lice. We've spend the last few days combing, combing, combing. All the boys in my family also got #2 haircuts, just to be totally certain. We look awesome.

I spent four hours in small claims court tonight. Insanity. But honor won in the end.

Dick Cheney hates you.

Man. Cheney just RADIATED evil the entire time he spoke about Iraq. What a scumbag. If you're American, and reading this, I have news: Dick Cheney hates you.

Couldn't you feel it? He just HATES you. And you. And you, too.

BIB Number: 26277

Pride. Arrogance. Shame. It's the same thing, from a generatiive standpoint.

I've been training for the Chicago Marathon for about six months. It's been amazing. I've never focused on something so physically taxing for so long, and it's made such a difference in my life. As a person who's often too focused on the RIGHT NOW, a slow-building schedule of increased mileage was antithetical to my personality. And it was exactly what I needed.

Sadly, I got whomped with a serious case of bronchitis, which triggered a really gross asthmatic reaction.

I've been out of training for almost two weeks. I'm still out out of work. And it doesn't look lilke I'll be able to run 2 miles until next week at least, let alone 26.2. If I was advising anyone else, I'd tell them that running the race would be a grave disservice to work and family.

Part of me thinks I should do it anyway, but that's pride. And arrogance.
Part of me feels like I'm wimping out: but that's just shame.

Theree's always next year. And the year after that.

This is killing me.

Why can't Kerry say this:

"Yes, I voted for the authority to go to war. It's like this: All because I support the right to bear arms, that doesn't mean people should go shoot people. We authorized the president to go to war, and he dropped everything and invaded."

Why can't Kerry say this: "Our President has three major character defects: Cheney, Rumsfeld, and Ashcroft."

Why can't Kerry say this: "Look, Bush is the kind of guy you'd want to have a beer with, but he's certainly not the brightest bulb in the lighting store."

This is killing me to watch.

Cascading sickness.

Like offset-but-interconnected sine waves, my family is passing various bacterial and viral ailments in a pattern of timing that is make all of us sick and irritable.

That is all.

20.15

Well, I just ran a 20.15 mile training run. It's the farthest I've ever run. I can say without any reservation that I ran through the worst knee pain I've ever experienced. Yowch.

The next three weeks are windwown weeks, so I don't have to run this distance until Chicago. Phew!

A 175 pound gorrilla.

I think I'm going to buy a full-on gorilla suit for a halloween costume, and use it for the rest of my life. I can be a different kind of gorilla every year.

The American Dream is right here.

I mean it. It's right here. In my yard.

The last two hours: two 11 year olds come over to skateboard at our house... they join my 8-year-old, who is quite good for his age, probably due to living in close proximity to the older boys. My kindergarterner-daughter, fresh off her first week of school, is visited by a neighbor. They take turns pushing my youngest boy around the driveway in a red, plastic car.

I try and skate, too. I'm not very good, but it beats sitting there and supervising. Thank God for pads.

Earlier in the day, I coached my first soccer game. I ran a team of 5 year olds around for an hour. It was completely hilarious. My older son's soccer practice (at which I assisted) was a little more serious... but still quite fun.

This is the American Dream. MY American Dream. Being of a state of mind and physical condition to actively participate in my childrens' lives in a way that, usually, brings them joy and security.

We're so fortunate.

So.

I should be in bed. Sleeping. I have to get up at 5:15am, as usual... and I've done my run for the night. I'm starting to worry that my knees are going to give out before I actually make it to Chicago.

I'm having these brief flashes of: Why the hell weren't you this healthy when you were 24? The answer, I guess, is because I didn't have to be. Playing rock and roll, smoking too many cigarettes, maintaining a diet of exlusively Doritos and Coke... this was totally doable, back then.

Nowadays, I have to eat right just to keep up with the nuances of my oldest son's conversations.

Love you all. 'Night.

Disney and iChat have nothing for me.

After 10 minutes of holding on the phone for Disney Reservations attempting to correct a accidental overpurchase by my beloved, I decided to pop in iChat to see who was around.

Nobody.

For the first time ever, my buddy list is completely and totally greyed out.

My God. My God.

Happily irritated.

Ah, life. You fickle bastard.

Being home alone was making me crazy. Now that I've joined up with my family in the Hamptons, all is well. I've been properly and pleasantly irritated by the total madness which is Parenting Three Children. I'm exhausted at 7:14, pm. That's good, though: tomorrow is a 20 mile run. Yaaaa!

Love you all.

Solo is so strange.

I hate when the house is empty. I hate it.

Ugh.

Let the future begin!

So, I quit one of my jobs today. Or rather, I gave notice over a month ago, but today was my last day.

Now, I'm 100% entrepeneur. Ready to make it with the big boys. Or at least the small ones. Whatever works.

I was at this gig for 14 months. It was odd... nobody really said goodbye. My immediate boss (who's kind of a friend of mine, too) said "I'm pretending it's not your last day, and don't take that as a reflection of how important your service has been."

So that's cool. But that was about it. Am I being egotistical?

"Thanks for the view!"

So, 11,000 of us were running the Manhattan half-marathon... and there was this guy on the side of the road, feeding his infant boy breakfast.

The boy was fascinated.

He was watching as many people as he could... his eyes pinballing from place to place to place. He was completely taken in by this wave of people, trying to process, exuding a hesitant delight.

I learned the most amazing thing today.

It's simple. REALLY simple. But it's this: I am not capable of successfully dwelling.

My wife likes enjoys turning things over in her mind. She likes the process of seeing things from all angles, savoring a decision before making it.

Not so with me.

My friend/mentor told me that someone once told him "If you think of something for longer than 45 seconds, you're spending too much time on it."

For people like me, this is true. Dwelling=obsession=useless.

Love ya!

She loves me. She loves me not.

She loves me. I know she does. But man... a four-year-old girl in a serious "Mommy only" phase can be a little tough to deal with. But you know, the post-tantrum hug, kiss, and "I love you, Daddy" make it all.. just... I don't know how to say it.

It's like this: When my daughter kisses me, it's like being injected with pure sunlight.

Can you dig it?

My time.... is done.

My oldest child is 8. My aunt says that he's almost exactly like I was. I think this is mostly true... except for the fact that he's clearly better looking and smarter than I am. And that's a good thing.

We're at a transition point now: If I'm chasing him on a straightaway... I can catch him no problem. But when it comes to cornering, I'm completely hosed. And so it begins.

He's goregeous and fast and funny and his sister drives him insane... and he's truly an amazing little man. Wowza.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

I had to fire a client today. The reasons were many and the reasons were logical, but what it basically came down to is this: I refuse to work for a corporate drama queen who bases her self-worth on remaining in crisis. This type of person exists at every level of nearly every organization... but if I can avoid them, I will. Yeesh.

And that's the scoop.

Writers reading writer's writing.

I have a few friends who are authors. And I get people jobs in copywriting. So, like, my least favorite thing is posting a job for a copywriter, or writing about writers reading my writing, because it's very, very, VERY intimidating.

I need less talented people in my life. That would work. Dumb it down, and all.

That's a 180.

Man. It's amazing how can start the day thinking "Man! Fuck all you people!" And end the day thinking: "Man! Fuck all you people!"

Wait. That's not it.

Rather, it's amazing how you can start angry, worried, and spending too much energy on not-very-important crap, and end the day relatively... dare I say... serene. Thank goodness I get good advice from smart people.

A dangerous point for me is when someone is provably incorrect from an ethical and moral standpoint. What I want to do is, in my family's style, brand them as evil and figuratively knock the crap out of them. Instead, though, I took appropriate action, behaved with civility, and it turned out that the big jackass did the right thing.

Now, if only I can resist calling people "Big Jackass."

Oh. My. Goodness.

20 minutes of sleep last night. Literally. I fell asleep at midnight, woke up at 12:20, and that was it for the night. Thanks goodness I'm such a fine example of Clean Living, or I'd be a walking, talking train-wreck today.

Clean Living. You betcha.

zzzzz.

The Deacon brings it on.

The Deacon of my Church, a normally sedate man, gave what I thought was a firebrand-level homily. At least for him. The gist of it was: "We should be especially thankful for having things that are important enough to cause us suffering." I thought that was an amazing concept. After the service, I approached the Deacon and told him so.

He clapped me on the back and said "Ha ha! Okay!"

He's hard of hearing.

Cheney is not a Republican.

Cheney on the news again. Cringe, cringe.

I don't believe that the American public is stupid. I really don't.

But why any Republican in her or her right mind would vote for someone like Dick Cheney is beyond me. The man is arguably criminal, definitively foul-mouthed, clearly unsupportive of everyday people, and operates in a space that is wholly antithetical to good-hearted, intelligent, and well-meaning folks like, say, Bob Dole.

Bush is a non-issue. He doesn't really think enough on his own to be discussed, from a political standpoint. He seems nice enough. I'd have him to my house for dinner.

But Cheney... oh, lordy. this man requires people to sign an oath of allegiance before being allowed into his campaign speeches. What the hell? ICK ICK ICK!

Good luck, Captiva.

Captiva is one of my favorite places in the country. I was last there with my family in February of 2004. Our hopes and prayers are with the folks over there.

Well, here we go.

Down the hatch.