Whole Foods market, Union Square, NYC.

Or what, exactly?

Love to all. Even you, whoever patrols the floor.

Will. Not. Throw. Through. Wall.

When you're experiencing small-business panic at 3:30 in the morning and decide to do some of the common computer maintenance you sometimes forget to do, this is the LAST thing you want to see when you're troubleshooting software.

The tech support site needs, um, tech support.

Love to all.

Brother.

Hey.

Haven't talked to you in, Jesus, three-and-half years now. I gotta admit, bro', you totally caught me by surprise when you went along with Dad's craziness. Especially after we talked about what he did with our Uncle, and our Grandmother. Shit, dude. He didn't talk to THEM for 15, 18 years apiece. The same thing over two generations.

And now, of course, it's three.

What bothers me most, though, is that you know that I think he's a good person with problems, not a bad person overall. But you still made the decisions you did. Other people have explained to me why, but their reasoning seems so sad and small and petty. What a waste of time and potential joy. Anyway.

If I could saying anything to you today, brother, I'd just say:

Happy 40th birthday.

Love to all. Even you, Josh.

Everything is porn.

I spend a couple of hours this afternoon hanging these really cool and sparkly light globes on one of the trees in the front yard. Maggie peaked out at them after it got dark. Our two youngest kids were in the room with us.

M: Those sparkly balls look really amazing.
R: There are more in the bedroom.
M: Really?
R: Yup. Two. I think you should check them out. Extensively.
M: {that "Rich, you are SO thirteen" look.}

To me, everything has porn potential. It's just the way it is.

Love to all. Even you, the neighbor with the tech issues.

Run run run run run run run run run run

Maggie emailed me our schedule for the weekend. It was a fairly extensive email. I've got 17 minutes until Go Time. Sometimes, I feel like I go to work to relax.

Now, I'm NOT complaining at all. I'm actually more psyched about life than I've been in some time... and I was never particularly down on it.

RIGHT NOW: my ten year old is holding two plastic lightsabers and waiting for me to beat the crap out of him. I'm cutting this post short.

Love to all. Even you, the stupid friends-of-my-employee who ruined her bowling party.

Hell, yes.

Today, things went right and wrong and I'm COMPLETELY psyched about it.

I took my new salesperson to the WRONG building, even though it was the only address on their website. Then, I took my new salesperson to the RIGHT building for our next appointment. I was nervous about looking like an idiot in front of her. Just before the client came in we had this conversation:

Her: What are you going to say?
Me: I have no idea.
Her: You don't know what you're going to talk about?
Me: Not the slightest.

Then the client came in, and we had a really great conversation. On the way out, I asked how I did, and she said: "You were amazing."

So that felt good.

But what was even better was that when we were on the way back to the office she said to me: "You're kind of a happy person in general, aren't you?" And I thought about it for a minute, really thought about it, and said:

"Yeah. I really am."

Love to all. Even you, the discredited police officer with the serious jealousy issues.

The day turns weird.

New employee started today. It seems that she might completely rock in a totally new way. I think that one of my people was a tad nervous about the new hire, even though they are doing completely different things. And when this person gets nervous, she gets a little needy. Normally, that's not a problem. Today, though, I was really focused on getting the new hire up to speed. I was really explicit about this, too.

Gotta work on those management skills, I guess.

Came home early to go the dermatologist to see if there was anything to treat my AssFace. Hee. I realize that makes no sense, but I just felt like writing that. Anyway. I came home early to see the dermatologist about getting a Narrowband UV Lamp for my house. Since UV is the only thing that really truly works for this crap, I tend towards tanning salons (which have a lot of the wrong kind of light). But I'm definitely getting too old to bake myself that way, so I'm going the medical route. Turns out, I have to do their onsite UV treatment for like two months before my insurance will cover an at-home thing. Bummer, bummer drag. Especially because the doc is near my house, and I work in Manhattan.

Anyway. Left the Doc's, went to my car, and the car alarm went off. Couldn't figure it out. I thought maybe the battery had died, and reset the alarm state. (There's precedent for this.) Called Maggie, who came with jumpers. (Bless her heart, because she had a friend over.) But they didn't help. The alarm just kept blaring, resetting, blaring, resetting etc. The kill switch was useless.

THEN, just before we left the car to call a tow truck, I noticed that the wires to the alarm's killswitch had been disconnected. I didn't have strippers, nor did I think the length of wire remaining would allow me to reconnect 'em, so I left. We'll get the car tomorrow.

Got home, the ceiling is leaking. The feed from one of the loos is faulty.

Then the diswasher detergent dispenser broke.

Then Maggie went to bed sick.

Then my daughter gave me attitude for like, three hours.

Then I wrote this.

Love to all. Even you, the vigorously smoking nurse standing just outside the doctor's office.

Bookend productivity.

Why is it that I can get so much more done between 6:30 and 9am... and then between 5:30 and 8pm... than during any other parts of the day?

I don't get it.

Love to all. Even you, the guy who thinks covering his mouth somehow makes his cellphone call inaudible.

Serenity can wait.

In AA, we talk about serenity a lot. There's the serenity prayer, which is said after most meetings... there's lots of discussion about meditation (which is part of the 11th step)... and you'll often hear comments form folks about getting serenity, having their serenity blown, etc.

Well. I'm not ready for serenity just yet.

My sponsor fired me. Nicely. He thinks that our lives had become a bit too intertwined for him to be able to give me good advice. I agree. He's a good guy and I love him, but I was starting to find his behavior and advice a bit hypocritical and not in my best interest.

This had been coming for about six months, I think.

My ex-sponsor recommended a replacement. It was a terrible recommendation. He suggested this guy (who I know and like) because the guy has been sober for a while, and was looking for a sponsee. That's fine, but the guy also has terrible marital troubles, and the one thing I'm looking for in a sponsor is someone who has found a way to make marriage work.

And work well.

I have a new sponsor already. Someone I'd been thinking about asking for while. A guy I thought of as my backup sponsor anyway. So that's good. He's a different kind of AA person. Less of a fundamentalist and more of a balance-is-everything kind of guy.

Which is where I need to be, I think. I'm not going to hit a meeting day, seven days a week. I think if I hit four or so, I'm in fine shape. I think that AA needs to be an important part of my life.. a CRITICAL part of my life, but it the operative word here is, of course, "part."

I started back at my old home group this morning. I hadn't been there in about three months. It was scary and nervewracking and utterly delightful. The other meetings I've gone to have been fine, mostly, but home is where the heart is... and for me, that's The Breakfast Club. 7:30am. Manhattan.

Serenity can wait. I'll take stability.

Love to all. Even you, the angry young man worried about his "stalker."

Whoops!

I was thinking it was my template modifications that stopped me from switching to the Blogger beta, but I was wrong. Now I have to re-edit my template.

Poop.

Love to all. Even you, the guy in BJ's wholesale who was saying "No, that's STUPID." to his wife/companion/other over and over again.

Everything.

This is pretty much my whole life, right here.

Love to all.

My first "win."

So, my awsome neighbor's parents have a charity race every year. It's a 3.5 mile run through parts of Westchester County, NY. You bring canned food, you run the race, you go home, you make pies. This is the first year I ran. There were about 20 people running. Usually there are more, but I think weather inhibited quite a few.

When I finished the race, there wasn't anybody outside to meet me. It was freezing cold and raining, so this is understandable. So I went inside the hosts' house and yelled "HEY! Anybody home?" They were like "What? You're done?" About four or five minutes later, the next runner arrived.

The funny thing was, I actually hurt my calf AND had to stop and ask for directions. I'm feel very validated about being an actual runner vs. someone going for a run.

So now I'm home, and I have an enormous chocolate turkey to give the kids. They're very happy I won.

Rock it.

Love to all. Even you, the guy who tried to tell me that being a marathoner was a disadvantage.

True art.

My five-year-old ran into kitchen and said: "Dad! Dad! Come look what I made!"

I went and looked.

He smiled: "I made an ENVELOPE!"

Love to all. Even you, the sad-eyed woman resignedly chatting up her Mom.

Subtle.

I'm slowing down on my AA meetings. Calling AA people less than normal. Instead of giong to 7:30am meetings, I'm getting to work by 6:30 and doing database work and data entry and generally fretting about the impending merger.

I have to regain balance.

At work, I am stressed to the max and acting stupid-silly at the same time. One of the people who works for the landlord saw me in the hallway and said I looked "furious." These are all bad signs.

When I look furious but don't know it... that's a bad sign.

Maggie just called. We have a babysitter tonight, and I'm going to her home group with her. I guess, even though that's the opposite of what I want to do, that's exactly what I need right now.

Love to all. Even you, the guy to my right who keeps watching the movie playing on my screen.

NYC Marathon ->2007<-

I just qualified for the 2007 NYC marathon with my 9th race of the year: the "Race to Deliver" in NYC's Central Park.

Pace: 6:55
Gender Place: 286 out of 2424
Total Place: 312 out of 5093
Age Place: 127 out of 932

My shin splints were killing me the whole time, but fortunately it was only a 4 mile race. I'm pretty psyched to have done under 7 minutes under those conditions.

Anyway. I'm going to make chocolate chip cookies with my two youngest, then start cooking dinner: daddy's special tacos for everyone!

Love to all. Even you, the dude who accidentally spit on the nice and speedy lady behind me.

Bush to women: fuck off and die.

Always the optimist, I thougth that the elections might have sent President Bush a signal that he might want to moderate his insanely divisive stances a wee bit.

Oops.

Instead, President Bush appointed an ANTI-CONTRACEPTION ACTIVIST to oversee Federal reproductive / family planning services. We're not just talking anti-abortion-rights, we're talking anti-contraception. Anti-birth control.

Holy shit.

It's more than an insult. This guy's policies will kill some women, and ruin the lives of countless others. From my perspective, putting this person in charge is nothing short of crimial collusion.

Add it to Bush's ever-growing list of crimes.

Love to all. Even you, whoever answers the phone at (866) 435-7292.

Luckiest. Boss. Ever.

How cool is it that my staff likes to videoconference, even though we're only separated by about 6 feet? Very.

Love to all. Even you, the lady in the SUV who forgot to share the road with runners.

Stupid blogger image posting.

Grrr.

Love to all.

Sage advice that I’ve always ignored.

“You can’t be friends with your employees,” I’ve been told. And that may be true.

There’s a clearly structural reason for this: the employee is inherently unable to be truly an “equal” friend, because their livelihood depends on their boss being happy with their contribution to the firm. That contribution consists of work ethic, work quality, and demeanor.

Had a weird thing today where my friend/employee actually pissed me off, because she wasn’t listening to me when I tried to show her something on the computer. Her reason: she didn’t know I was serious because I joke around so much. Fair enough. But what that means, from a functional perspective, is that I shouldn’t joke around nearly as much, or at least in the way that I normally do.

Her other reason: she thought she could do what I was going to show her better than I could. I tried to explain that even if this was true, it doesn't matter.

Am I an idiot? Should I try to be less me at work?

Because what frustrated me more, though, is the same thing that I’ve run into throughout my thirteen years as an exceedingly minor corporate magnate: my silliness detracts from my ability to lay down the law. Or at least get folks to listen to me. I kept trying to convince this person that I was serious, and they kept insisting I was joking. It’s pretty clear to me that I was being fucked with (in what I believe to be nice-intentioned way), but it annoyed the shit out of me.

It’s a difficult thing, bouncing back and forth between friendly camaraderie and “hold on, I’m your boss.”

Hell, maybe it’s impossible. I’m going to think this over a bit. Especially since I have three employees now, and that should increase to five over the next year.

Love to all. Even you, the guy reading the “Nelson DeMille” book who keeps, um, adjusting himself.

The End.

I sometimes feel like I'm trying to create a Short Story Life.

Instead of a somewhat linear, start-to-finish kind of thing, I'm creating a compilation of essays. Family I. Company II. True Love I. Settling Down I. Drunken Decade II: Return of the Blackouts. True Love II. Adventures in Misguided Friendships. Etc.

I divide my life into separate phases, and once one a phase is over, I don't reconnect with it too much. With rare exception, I don't talk to any childhood friends. I don't talk to my "college buddies." I'm not in touch with my old bandmates. You see the pattern, here. The only exception seems to be ex-employees. There's two that I consider friends, and they'll get in touch with me if I don't get in touch with them.

Living a life as a coherent novel feels scary and overwhelming. It might be because I don't want to be able to trace my life back to childhood that I've created these phases. Or, I could be just like everyone else and just have a fucked up brain. I don't know.

There are a few people in my life, outside of my family, who I have come to love. I'm going to try, this time, not to cut them loose. I might not be ready to live my life as a novel, but maybe I can extend this phase to a novella.

How's that for beating a metaphor until it's dead?

Love to all. Even you, the dude in corduroy who's should really wipe his nose.