The Pros and Cons of Christmas Birthdays...

JIM

I am a Christmas baby.  That's right, out of 364 other days in the calendar year, I am one of the lucky souls that made my way into this world on December 25th. In my experience this is both a blessing and a curse. Now this may not be true for all people who happen to share their birthday with Christmas, but for me, I can say overall it's been much more a blessing.

It's funny, whenever it comes up for the first time in casual conversation that my birthday is December 25th, I generally get one of  three different reactions. Some people react with something like, "Wow! how cool - you're a Christmas baby?!"  Then there is the second group who look at me sympathetically and say something along the lines of,  "Oh how awful for you, having to get cheated out of birthday presents and parties all your life".  The third group is made up of women, specifically mothers, whom I can just barely detect an underlying tone of contempt: "Oh your poor mother - I'm sure that's one Christmas she'll never forget..."

I love that one. As if it's my fault that my mom suffered through several hours of labor on Christmas Eve and into the following day.  I'm sure it was no picnic for my father either, but I've learned it's NEVER, EVER wise to mention a father's ordeal during delivery (no matter how horrific) in the same context with his wife giving birth. If you said, I know this man who was on his way to the hospital as his wife was in labor and on the way there he was robbed and beaten with a bat. While struggling to get to the hospital he was then hit by a truck, but somehow managed to be there for his wife, who'd been in labor for several hours...  I swear a mother will just ask, "How many hours was the poor thing in labor?".

What always strikes me as a bit strange is when a complete stranger such as a government clerk, pharmacist, loan officer, or any number of soul-less bureaucratic personnel, whom we frequently provide our date of birth, does not react at all when I so matter-of-factly state my date of birth. Come on! You don't have to be all about it. It is somewhat extraordinary though.  Give me something!

I confess, that I do feel a bit special, even privileged having a birthday on Christmas.  And I love the fact that I've never had to work or be in school on my birthday. True, I have never had a real party for my birthday, but anyone who knows me well, also knows that I am not very comfortable with crowds and shy away from any spotlight. So this is a fitting day for me to celebrate with family and in my own manner.  If I choose to stay in sweats all day and start drinking champagne with my breakfast, who's to judge me?  And how many others on their birthday can look forward to having the music of joy, the lights, the candles, the wonder of the season, the amazing aromas coming from the kitchen, the crackling fire.  But most important of all...

I celebrate this special day with all my Christian brothers and sister worldwide as we recognize the special significance of Christmas... The One who gives us the most amazing gift of all.  The One who has brought us back again into a right relationship with God, creator of all there is and all that will be. The One who has given us an eternal destiny where we will one day reign forever with Him. It is about celebrating the birth of our Lord and redeemer, Jesus Christ!

Merry Christmas and God Bless

It's the small things....

There is something to be said for living in the moment.  Enjoying each minute as it comes, seeing the joys of nature and humanity.  No where is this more evident then on my train ride into the city each morning.

A few stops after I get on, a man and his toddler daughter hop on the train.  They take a few moments to get settled; he adjusts his backpack and hers, takes off coats, brushes her hair with his fingers, all the while this little voice saying "dad! dad!".  They settle in to yogurt, juice boxes and the morning paper.  The conductor comes into our car yelling "Tickets! Get your tickets ready!" She squeals in excitement, jumping up and down.   "Dad! Tickets! Tickets!" grabs the ticket from her dad's hand, proudly waving it in front of the conductor.  As this is a monthly ticket, there is no need for the conductor to stop, he normally waves at you and moves on.  However, each morning the conductor bends down, takes the ticket and pretends to put a punch in it.  He has a brief conversation with her (I call her "The Baby") and smiling moves on.  "The Baby" has a way of lighting everyone's mental load.  Throughout the train ride she sings, repeats the same sentence in a sing song voice, discusses topics that only make sense to a 3 year old and occasionally will whimper or whine (Only to be jollied around by her loving dad).  She entertains a trainful of curmudgeony commuters who are half awake and trying to focus themselves for the day's tasks. No one can help but smile and feel there is more right than wrong with the world.

The 7:11 train is a creatures of habit route.  Most of the people on this train sit in the same seat in the same car.  You can always tell when a "newbie" rides on the 7:11.  They have the audacity to frown and roll their eyes at our "The Baby" while looking to other passengers for confirmation on what a pain it is to have a toddler along for the commute.  We, the people of the first car of the 7:11, stare down this interloper making it painfully obvious that this is a treat, not an endurance.  This is the effect "The Baby" has had on us all.

The end of this tale is the most heart warming. "The Baby" and her dad collect their belongings and get off the train.  Her dad settles her into a stroller, adjusting her hat, mittens and boots.  She waves at certain people and says "hi" in that perfectly perky voice that only the very young or very old can get away with.  She lightens up all of our paths including the two older men, beaten up by time and circumstance, who ask for spare change outside.  Every morning, the father and "The Baby" approach the men.  "The Baby" greets them, waves and exchanges some words of wisdom. Immediately the two men break out in beaming smiles.    Anyone who witnesses this small kindness cannot help but be touched by it.  The simple act of a child and the startling consequence is a lesson in humanity.  It is not what you give, but how you give it.  It's not the wealth of your presents, but the wealth of your presence.

So thank you "The Baby", every morning I am reminded to the beauty of life and the importance of generosity of spirit.

Billy Goat Breakfast - Don't Butt In!!

Living and working in Chicago definitely has its perks.  We have a beautiful lakefront, great sports teams, world-class museums, classy old theaters and opera houses, Wrigley Field, Michigan Ave. and lower Michigan Ave.

Lower Michigan Avenue is mostly comprised of concrete supports, truck delivery docks, parking garage entrances and roll away dumpster ports. But there is a hidden gem that most every Chicagoan and many tourists worldwide know about. I'm talking about the famous Billy Goat Tavern and Grill. The Billy Goat Tavern is not much to look at - it's neon cavern, dark and dank and emits a steamy, rancid greasy plume almost 24/7.

Billy Goat Tavern is known mostly for their burgers. Most popular is the double cheese burger - two thin patties of beef, shrunk well on a hot griddle with onions and a couple squares of American cheese slapped on by one of the friendly Greek fry-cooks, just before adeptly tucking between a kaiser-style bun. Salt, pepper, mustard, ketchup, raw onions, pickles and relish are all on you to determine just the desired ratio for your taste. What many people, both tourists and city denizens alike, have missed out on is the amazing breakfast sandwiches that the Billy Goat has to offer. And the 50 cent coffee is unbeatable!

Think for a moment... it's Friday morning, the city is just coming to life, empty beer bottles and other remnants of the previous late-night's revelry are still evident near the underground, sparsely lit entrance. Think about taking a half an hour just before going to work and having a ham, egg and cheese breakfast sandwiched between the kaiser roll bun. Or bacon, sausage...even salami, bologna or any variation of these. Imagine for a moment raw onions and pickles on the side as a garnish. All this for $5 at 8:00 am in the morning! And imagine sharing this experience with the same circle of very good and trusted friends.

This wouldn't be something you would (or could) do every day, or even every week for that matter. But say you had a standing appointment once a month, let's say the 3rd Friday of each month as a scheduled ritual. Now that's something you could never put a price on. This is something to look forward to... something to savor, this special time with friends, greasy sandwich, coffee and conversation. This is Billy Goat Breakfast (BGB).

Selling a Screenplay? A True Exercise in Patience

I think if a screenwriter takes away nothing else from the experience of having come up with a great idea for a screenplay, writing a kick-ass script and marketing your effort, it is learning to be patient.

When I consider that I wrote Martin Eden... well, what I mean to say is, I adapted the screenplay from Jack London's 1909 novel, back in 2009. Incidentally, I think it's pretty cool that I completed that work exactly one hundred years from the date of its publication. And here we are just weeks away from 2013, and I'm still waiting on some action. When I say action, I suppose I'm referring to something in the form of representation, an option deal  or an outright sale. I guess I can say, in truth, that my screenplay has seen some action when you consider the recognition Martin Eden has received from various screenplay competitions. I must also admit that my efforts in marketing my work have been rather encouraging, when I have had at least a dozen requests from some high-profile executives in the industry for this work.

Funny, when I first completed this screenplay and I felt it was ready for the eyes of Hollywood producers, I was convinced, as I'm sure are many first-time script writers, that once I cast my script out to the ocean of hungry Hollywood sharks, they would all be clambering over each other for obtaining the rights. It is a great fantasy, imagining that your work is in such high demand as to inspire ruthless bidding wars among the film industry elite. A screenwriter will quickly learn that this notion of immediate success and recognition couldn't be further from the truth. The reality is, even having written an amazing and inspired work, it could take years to get an option deal. The reality, is you might never get an offer.

I have learned to be patient, to wait...to keep trying. I have relaxed on the notion that Hollywood will be breaking down my door. I have come to the realization that I may never see a dime for my efforts. But we keep on trying don't we? We continue to come up with creative ideas to get our work out there. We continue to cast our nets. We sift through all those emails related to pitching and selling your script in the hopes of discovering that one magic door to riches and fame. And we all know that most of these companies have little success rate, given the mounds of desperate clients, all convinced that they've just penned the next Hollywood blockbuster. We know they too are in the business of making a buck. So we learn to wait... we console ourselves with the idea that we only need one person who is crazy about our script idea, who also has the means to get our project developed and made.

I know that Jack London's works are very popular in European markets. This will be my next focus. So you people in the UK, Germany and Russia who are reading this blog, look out 'cause here we come!

One good blog deserves another!

Well Happy Birthday to us!  This brings to mind something I've been trying to put into words and just haven't been able to get write..(Get it?).  Leave it to my fellow cohort, Jim, to create a path for me to do it! (I think I might have to nickname him bushwacker as he seems to start me on most of my good/enriching paths)

I've been thinking about presents.  Those delightfully bright packages with beautiful ribbons and funny cards attached.  Thoughtful presents given to you by people who know you well, "walgreens" presents for people who want to mark an occasion they had forgotten until the moment they saw you, and obligation presents -the ones you really don't want to accept but do so now both you and the giver share in the gift of resentment....  I think back to all the presents I have received over my life and for some reason it hit me hard...the best presents I have ever received is the present of friendship.  I am proud to say that I have the most unique and varied gifts in this respect.  I have people that even I have a hard time being around for any length of time, people who make me laugh so hard I almost pee, people who make me cry (in a good way), people who nurture me (thank goodness as  there are some who suck the nurture right out of me!).  I am very grateful for all these gifts of friendship.  Opening my heart like the revolving door at the train station has brought me some amazing insight and knowledge that I would never have received had I kept to my own kind (whatever that is!).

So, on this, the birthday of our "baby", I want to express my gratitude for all the good friendships I've been fortunate to have and most especially for my cohort in practical jokes, solving the worlds problems and train wine - my fellow contributor Jim.  Jim has given me a unique perspective that I was lucky enough to pay attention to.  His writing skills, pursuit of his dreams and infinite love for his family have been an example that I can truly say changed this here Zep's life.  So here's to you Jim, me and the Whine Press!!

Happy Birthday Blog!

It has been a year ago that I published my first blog post to the Whine Press. I just felt as though I needed to somehow acknowledge the one year birthday (anniversary?) of this blog. The Whine Press was actually created last summer, but it sat latent for some months as Zep, the blogs other regular contributor, and I decided what it was going to be. Like so many with the intention of starting a blog, we weren't sure exactly what our focus was going to be. It seems after an entire year, that this still seems to be the case.

One thing I can say is that we've been rather consistent in providing fresh content, albeit a rather disjointed and unconnected smattering of topics, personal observations and  life experiences, we do bring it. Still, I feel our content is pretty timely and real, for the most part. Like life itself, much of it is fun, some of it is a little sad, there are some shameful and embarrassing moments. A little bitterness is felt at times (hence the "whine"). You will find some spiritual reflection, family situations and tender moments. Over the past year you will also find a good number of "aha !" and "why?" moments woven throughout.

My first post, last October 13th, involved a wedding of a mutual friend that Zep and I both attended as guests. This particular wedding involved a road trip, an overnight stay in the dairy capitol of the nation. In this particular wedding there also happened to be a pig (Moo) in the ceremony, who acted as ring-bearer during the ceremony. After that post we came out of the gate strong and posted regular in the weeks that followed. We lost much of our initial momentum toward the onset of the holiday season, but again found our stride once again during the early months of 2012 and beyond.

I know that thousands of blogs are launched daily and a large percentage of these are not maintained, become neglected and forgotten over time and many fizzle out completely. I feel like a year of loyal commitment and and dedication deserves a little recognition, even it if it is only from me. Thank you Zep for your thoughtful and often amusing contributions - you are also the one who got this off the ground and provided the look and feel of our baby. Now that it has legs...Happy Birthday Whine Press!

This is Really the Most Roundabout Way...

Am I really the only one who has problems navigating through those roundabouts? I'm seeing more and more of these frustrating circuitous road  labyrinths that are designed to improve traffic flow, while presumably eliminating the need for signal lights.

There must have been studies done with convincing data that somehow proves these to be a more efficient means of moving traffic from to any given compass point without the use of stop signs, long waits for light signals to change or any sense of any definitive intersections.

I hate these roundabouts and I would really feel much better about hating them if I knew that I wasn't alone in this. Every time I approach these crazy car-ousels, I immediately experience a mild anxiety and a feeling of dread. I really don't like them. There is a Wisconsin cheese and sausage shop that we love, but it requires exiting from the Interstate and immediately navigating through three of these roundabouts consecutively to get to the destination. Now I must say that the very first time I did this I was completely baffled as to which lane I was to be in - the inside lane or the outer, who had the right of way - it seems everybody has a"Yield" sign. some drivers take a partial spin around the loop before catapulting off to their intended trajectory. Others drive almost completely around the circle to proceed in the opposite direction where they'd originally come. This would have been previously known as a simple U-turn.

Wherever it is people are going when looping through these roundabouts, they seem to do it purposefully and deliberately. I on the other hand feel apprehensive, tentative and rely heavily on my wife as a co-pilot: do I stop...should I let them go...is this the right lane to get over there? Even she acts as though I am severely, mentally challenged. I don't like those things! I must say that it helps having been through the same one a few times as I think it becomes easier when you know exactly where you need to end up. I think that's why most people appear to be very confident and assured while going through the roundabouts...it is familiar to most of  them. These people are so familiar with the course that they race through it like a silver ball in a pinball machine, while at the same time looking at me like I'm a problem, or worse, hazard to be avoided (which I probably am). I don't like them at all.

 I want to see more data on the effectiveness of these stupid things. I find it hard to believe that there are any less accidents since implementing these traffic circles then there were when there was simply a plain old fashioned intersection with traffic signals. Or maybe it is just me. I also feel overwhelmed when ordering from a drive-thru window at a fast food restaurant. Again, for most this is an efficiency, to me it is generally an anxiety-ridden means to getting something I'm not sure I really wanted in the first place.   

Fast Times at Yom Kippur

It's that time of year again, the beginning of Fall and this week also marks the Jewish holiday of Yom Kippur. Last week was the start of the High Holy Days with the holiday of Rosh Hashanah ushering in the New Year (5772) for Jews all over he world. Wednesday, September, 25th at sundown, Yom Kippur begins.

For religiously observant Jews, this is a time for pious reflection, atonement for sins, going to Temple, the blowing of the shofar, and for the most devout...this is a time to fast. As I understand it, this time of fasting is a very subjective and personal matter. Some take it quite seriously, depriving the body of ingesting anything by mouth, including water. Others simply limit their intake, cut out junk food, caffeine and sugar or otherwise modify this 25 hour period to best suite their purpose.

I am not Jewish, so why do I care about all of this? I have established my own reasons and traditions that surround this special time of year. First of all, I am a Christian and somewhat of a self-proclaimed biblical scholar. Being a Bible scholar means that one must have a good grasp of both Old ans New Testament texts. This knowledge must also include many of the ancient Hebrew traditions that are celebrated today. Christianity itself began as an early Jewish sect during the first century. In fact, during that time, to become a Christian, one must first have had to convert to Judaism. I could go on and on... suffice it to say that I hold a very special place in my heart for the customs, traditions and culture of the Jewish people.

Back to what this time of year means for me. I resolved to fast twice a year, and have done so quite faithfully  for nearly 20 years, as closely as I can reckon. I fast for both spiritual and healthful benefits. I choose the Christian holy week preceding Easter Sunday in the Spring and I use Yom Kippur as the target date for my fast in the Fall. The duration of my fast is about 5 days. I first introduced this ritual with fresh vegetable and fruit juice. Now I can get through these days on water, tea and occasionally vegetable broth.

I will begin tomorrow. Monday the 24th. I will attempt to go through Friday. I've never had much trouble getting through this before, so I don't feel like this time will be any different. It's always a rough go the first couple days, this generally means headaches, weakness, and concentration problems. I always thought that being away from my office, with so many demands and omnipresent food that are a regular part of the day, would be so much easier.

Though I must say that I now have a small group from the office who faithfully join me in this bi-annual regimen. Each with their own personal reasons, goals and slight modifications.  For me it's the same all the time, I begin tentatively, with some doubt as to my tenacity and resolve to keep the course. Mid-week always brings renewed hope and relief of many of the uncomfortable detoxification cleansing-crisis symptoms. And by Friday when I introduce a small healthy meal, I have a whole new appreciation for food, I find my clothes fit a little looser, and I feel renewed energy, sharper mind, smoother skin and deeper faith in my Lord and King.

Yet, there's still something that the Jews have that I don't yet possess. I always wanted my own shofar. If you are unfamiliar with the term, a shofar is an ancient trumpet, fashioned from a ram's horn. I always thought it would be so cool to blow it from my backyard as I usher in my fast times...

Tears Water the Seeds of Hope

There is an amazing couple that I know from the Madison area of Wisconsin. They are amazing to me because they are doing something that has profoundly changed the lives of people. No...saved the lives of people and changed the course of countless others in the impoverished, eastern region of Guatemala. In truth, they are not that amazing, but what The Lord is doing through their surrendered lives to Him is what makes them so. And I'm sure they would agree.  How many lives have been, or will be changed by their selfless efforts, we will never know--at least not on this side of Heaven.  I know Kim and Randy Tews from personally joining them and their volunteer team twice on their life-changing mission efforts in Guatemala. I have been on a good handful of mission trips between the church where I regularly attend, The Orchard Evangelical Free Church and Kim and Randy's, not for profit, Christian organization, Outreach for World Hope (OWH).

Kim just published a book, Tears Water the Seeds of Hope, detailing her and Randy's journey from living the typical American Dream of self-sufficiency, buying a stately home on 4 acres of land in a suburban, sub-rural setting. And all this while working the fast-paced and lucrative careers of successful realtors to the point where carving out time for their two young daughters had become a matter of concern. Like many others who also share this unquenchable drive and need for material success, one of the rewards is the means to be able to take that occasional and well-earned tropical vacation that a life of those who work hard and value such luxuries as Kim and Randy's are entitled and can afford.

It was on one of these vacations to a tropic, sun-drenched, rum-soaked beach destination where Kim's story begins. This is a true story and great testament of how trust, faith and commitment in Christ can transform lives one heart at a time. That is the beauty of ministries such as OWH. Ministries like these don't only change the lives of those people it was intended to help, but anybody who invests some of their time, talent and resources to such endeavors will surely realize blessings of their own, often far from what they had ever imagined. Generally it begins with a change of heart, which directs thought, which often leads to action...and on and on it goes...  Kim and Randy are very different people today since they committed to forming this ministry. The book, Tears Water the Seeds of Hope is about their journey in putting together this organization that continues to grow, changing the course and the lives, not only of the souls in eastern, famine-stricken Guatemala, but also of all those involved in their work.

 I just ordered my signed copy and can't wait to read it, maybe savor it, but likely devour it. I know as one of the volunteers on two separate mission trips with Kim and Randy how profound an experience this can be. I know I can relate personally to much of Kim's narrative and proud to say I feel a part of this story. I was first invited to work with OWH by a co-worker and friend of mine, Judah from Madison, who happens to be a friend of the Tews family and has been many times to Guatemala. Judah has in fact lived a short time there and has dedicated much time, muscle, tears and love himself. One of his blessings was meeting his  wife, Jena, who was a volunteer on the last trip where I served. Jena continues to serve the people of Guatemala alongside Judah, now married for almost a year, as of this writing.

I first got my feet wet in volunteer work on two relief trips I made with The Orchard church to New Orleans following Hurricane Katrina. I didn't know anybody, but felt somehow compelled to serve.The experience was so amazing that I committed to doing some type of  short-term volunteer relief/mission work once a year as an opportunity is available. Since then I've been to Juarez, Mexico, twice to Guatemala with the Tews, Judah and teams, and this year my heart led me to the Republic of Haiti.

Short term mission work is definitely a move out of most anybody's comfort zone. It can be quite uncomfortable at times, sometimes scary, unfamiliar and uncertain, but always a lot of fun at the same time as you will be sharing all of these fears and emotions with everybody else on the team. The payoff is always well worth the commitment. Every trip brings new adventure, new hope, new relationships, renewed perspectives, self-evaluation, a re-defining of priorities and those things that are truly of value, new miracles, and always... always a closer relationship to Jesus Christ, in Whom we dedicate it all.

When You're the Only Early Riser in the House, What Do You Do?

Answer: Get used to it because the situation's not likely to change. It can be very frustrating being an early bird in your family when everybody else in the household firmly believes that weekends, holidays and vacations are designated special for those who enjoy to sleep in.

I'm naturally an early riser and for anybody else who shares my predicament, you know how unnerving this can be at times. Weekends aren't so bad as the early quiet hours (and I mean several hours sometimes) provides a time for peaceful solitude. I am devout in my Christian faith, so this is a good devotional time, a time to peacefully soak in the Word of God, and reflect in prayerful meditation. This is also a good time to do some quiet exercising such as stretching, pushups, and core strengthening routines. I've also taken advantage of these early quiet hours, when everybody else is sawing logs, to read a book uninterruptedly. What often happens is I find myself pulled, almost supernaturally, to my laptop. This can often be a regretful choice as it's easy to get caught up in work stuff, Facebook, sensationalized news stories and videos, and worst of all, celebrity nonsense. I couldn't care less about Prince Harry's latest expos`e...but yet we are somehow drawn...

This time can be a real gift if used productively. For example, I'm taking this opportunity at this time to create a blog post. The trick is always to sneak out of the bed as stealth-like as possible, quickly take care of your hygiene needs, make as much coffee as is required to get you through these hours, quietly clean up any remnants of the previous evening's activities. This can often be a challenging proposition as it often requires some degree of thumping and bumping about, which often leads, at least in my case, to swift and grouchy retribution from a too-early awakening of my sweetly-snoozing spouse (kids generally don't care).

Sleeping in on the weekends, I can abide to some extent. It's the time when we're away from home on vacation that really irks me. And all you can do as an early bird is suffer in silence. I fully understand that vacations are for rest, but geez! I want to rise with the birds, get a light breakfast, plan the day's activities and explore new things. Hotel rooms are particularly tricky as you are confined to a smaller space, those iron curtains drawn taught, lest the tiniest ray of morning sunlight breech the crypt-like sanctity of the space. Once expertly navigating through the foreign territory in the pitch dark, executing a modified version of the hygiene regimen and grabbing the essentials: cell phone, camera, room and car keys, I've had the most wonderful adventures, left to my own devices. Hint: skip the mini-coffee maker and lobby coffee. The quest for a good quality cup of real (preferably Fair Trade) coffee is a great way to begin exploring a new area. It's amazing the wildlife you can view, the interesting people you can meet, and the discoveries that can be realized, given this precious time alone.

Sometimes, my wife and kids will be pondering the notion of breakfast by the time I'm thinking about lunch and a cold locally-crafted pint. All you can do if you're an early bird is accept that this is the way it will be and stop getting frustrated that everybody else doesn't share the same need to wake with the sun. To me sleeping in is like letting the whole world go on without you. I always feel as though I'm missing out on something. And mostly I'm right.

There is, of course, a flip side to this compulsion to greeting the day at it's dawning. When the rest of my family is ready to settle in for a good movie in the evening, I can quickly leave them for a different kind of solitude...as sleep comes on me quickly in these twilight of my years...   

One bad decision deserves another

Did ya ever notice that when you make a poor choice it often is followed up by a series of bad occurrences?  That upon reflection, if you simply went with your gut instinct things could have been radically different?  One of the tenets of present moment awareness is that it affords you to tap into your inner guidance.  Apparently I tap into it and spit in its face.  Let me tell you about Thursday's commute.

I am quite easily distracted.  Doesn't matter what it is, it'll distract me.  Could be a bug, a piece of paper on the floor, just the sound of the wind whistling through my sometimes vacant head.....On Thursday something minor distracted me and had me leaving the house slightly late. As I ran to the car, I noticed the sky was threatening rain which caused me to run back into the house and grab the first umbrella I saw.  Run back out to the car, started up the Blue Flame and sped through traffic in a panic not wanting to miss my train.  My tires screeched as I pulled into a parking space, grabbed my coffee and heavy backpack (which got caught on the gear shift causing some coffee spillage, argh!) and ran for the train....to find out that it was running 10-15 minutes late.

The first rule of commuting by train is "Get on whatever damn train pulls into the station if trains are running late".  I know this, I feel this, I understand this, I just didn't do this.(Bad decision #1)  When I got to the station, the train that runs before my normal train was in the station.  I chose not to take it as it appeared crowded and also because I apparently had lost my mind.......sky is now really threatening.  10 minutes go by, my normal train pulls into the station.  Hop on, All goes well, (I'm monitoring the skies as we glide along) we pull into the downtown depot.  I need to make a decision on the rest of my commute...Walk as I usually do?  Take a bus? Take a water taxi? What ho!  A bus is waiting for me when I hit the sidewalk.  Bus it is!! (Bad decision #2) I'm all settled in my seat for my 10 minute commute to my office....10 minutes later...I'm still settled in my seat...in traffic.  Sky is really threatening but I don't care cause I'm safe and dry on the bus....in traffic.  We get to the entrance to lower Wacker to find it is blocked off by our vigilant ladies in blue, Chicago cops. (Thank you Chicago for having a city so great people want to film movies here and do it during rush hour commutes) Our bus driver says to the cop "Hey, I need to turn here, I don't have another route".  The cop says "Hey you can't, we told the cta (Chicago Transit Authority)" Bus driver says "I'm the CTA and you didn't tell me NUTHING!". They continue to fight while the rest of us exit the bus (not knowing when the bus would move) (Bad decision #3).  I start to walk.  I get about 10 minutes from the office and the skies make good on their threat.  It as a blistery blowy wind. I open my umbrella and of course it is broken so I have only 1/2 an umbrella. I swear and walk, swear and walk, etc..... Finally get to work, completely soaked.

As I try to dry out EVERYTHING I realize....
A... If I had taken the train that was in the station when I got there I would have missed the rain and been dry
B... If I had walked or taken the water taxi I would have missed the rain and been dry
C... If I had stayed on the bus, I would have arrived at the same time and not gotten wet (a coworker who was on the bus after me said that they opened the entrance ramp about 5 minutes after I left my bus) and been dry.

The moral to the story? Well I guess to go with my gut but I think truly the moral is don't trust MY judgement when the skies threaten rain!

Martin Eden Film Coming Soon!

Well as of this writing, this headline isn’t quite yet true—it’s more of a self-fulfilling prophecy.  It is true that there is an excellent screenplay adaptation of Jack London’s 1909 novel slowly getting some positive attention in Hollywood and New York.  Martin Eden is a great story that mirrors much of London’s own life and times as an uneducated sailor, turned famous writer.  For many years I thought that somebody should’ve made this great novel into a film.  Now that somebody has finally written a very good…No, great screenplay exactly 100 years since the novel was published, I think the time is ripe to bring this story to life on the big screen. How do I know the screenplay is great?  Well, speaking objectively, this script has placed in 4 major screenwriting competitions.  Martin Eden took 2^nd place in the Inkwell Opportunity 2009 screenwriting competition, as well as being judged a finalist in Scriptapalooza, Fresh Voices and Sundance Film Festival’s top 100 in the Table Read My Screenplay competition.

The story is about love, obsession, ambition, social issues, self-improvement, sacrifice, success, charity, disillusionment and deep depression.  This story interweaves all of the elements that touch every human soul in one way or another. The story of Martin Eden is set in San Francisco in the early 1900’s.  This was a time when class distinction was most prevalent in American society—the bourgeois wealthy, whom chased to great extent, the Victorian affectations, and the oppressed working class, where the sparks of rebellion were quickly being fanned-to-flame. Eden is a young uneducated and impoverished sailor from the latter class, who gets a taste of the seemingly better life of the wealthy. It all begins when he falls hopelessly in love with Ruth Morse, a young socialite who embodies everything the wealthy upper class can afford.  Eden makes his decision to abandon the life of the sea, educate himself, learn proper etiquette, dress the part of a man of distinction and become a published writer.   

Eden’s relentless pursuit of this goal for the attention, and hopefully the eventual hand of Ruth in marriage becomes his only obsession.  Ruth helps Martin pursue his dream, at the great disapproval of her controlling mother.  All through his improvement training, Martin takes up writing day and night, and very much like his creator, London himself, after years of literary rejection, finally gets some recognition.  Eventually he loses the girl; rather she loses faith in him. Eden later has works published, becomes famous, takes up with socialists and anarchists, gets fame, is disillusioned by the life of the wealthy, gives his money away to his less privileged friends and family and… well, I don’t want to give it all away.  I will tell you that this does not end on a good note though…

But I urge you to read the book…or wait for the film. Once this great screenplay is purchased and produced by some brilliant visionary it will be a certain hit, not only here in the U.S. but this is a sure bet for international attention as London’s book is even today very popular throughout Europe and other parts of the world.  And why am I so hopeful and confident about this script?  Because I, Jim Farina, am the proud author.

Really, I'm a hip modern woman!

I perceive myself, and most of my friends as very relaxed in our attitudes.  We swear freely, are big on innuendo, always get the dirty joke. Hey were first in line to see Magic Mike! I like to think  people view me as risque however last night I believe I might have found a flaw in this argument...

It was a ladies night. Not a ladies night at a bar, but a gathering of women after hours in a store that sold accessories and what I'd call chick things (candles, coin purses with funny sayings, little bowls..).  There was several types of wine, beautiful cheeses and delicious crackers.  It was a gathering that a friend of mine had won at a school auction.  She invited coworkers (me), friends from college, newly gathered friends and neighbors.  These were women who are definitely in the "Haves" side of life (I sometimes ride the edge of the  "have nots" but hey, I'm happy). Upper crust, refined, intelligent.  We chatted about our children, our jobs and the goods in the store. We feasted on amazing cheeses and wine, told a joke here or there.  My friend and I told our scandalous story of going to see Magic Mike all the while feeling a certain lascivious arrogance. One of the women I'd never met before, a nice comfortable looking woman, maybe mid 50s, dressed in an "I've spent about $500 on this outfit to look this understated" listened politely and then began to speak "when I was 18, I went to a triple x porno at the Princess Theater".......The room was hushed, I snarkily put more cheese on my cracker, sipped some wine, fully expecting this motherly woman to titter and say that she marched right out when she realized where she was. I took another bite of cracker as she went on "After about 15 minutes I got very tired...I just got tired of all the sucking c**k".  Yes....the word you think is supposed to be there is the word she said loud and proud.  I about choked on my cracker (not everything is better on a ritz..) and luckily had plenty of wine to save me from near death. My other friend made a gagging noise (which is somewhat appropriate).  After the shock of the phrase "sucking c**k" it became even more bizarre when you realize that an establishment named the Princess Theater showed pornos.

Hmmm...I wonder how I can get myself invited to her book club.......

What's your merge type?

Well I certainly couldn't let Jim have all the glory for this blog so I decided that this afternoon makes a fine time to blog about a subject very dear to my heart.....merging.

Every weekday morning, I have a few opportunities to merge into traffic.  This procedure used to frustrate me until I realized that there are specific merge types. Here are a few of my merge type definitions:

The Val:  This is an older person (usually a woman) who come to a dead stop when they begin to merge into traffic if there is another car within a 5 mile radius...in any lane.  They will only move when the expressway is completely clear of traffic.  Luckily they are stationary so people can easily move around them.  I suspect that when you read news stories of a missing elderly person the first place one should look is the expressway on ramp.

The Mario Andretti:  This is usually a middle aged man, who is on the ramp behind you but must speed up and get into the traffic before anyone else.  Doesn't matter if he is 3 cars back, 2 cars back, he will speed up, cutting you off and all the traffic in between time. Usually has a cigarette in hanging out his mouth and is swearing at anyone who has the audacity to be on the expressway in front of him.

The Chicken:  This is usually a distracted mother.  She is in the traffic you are trying to merge into.  You slow down to merge in behind her and she slows down.  You speed up to get in front of her, and she speeds up. This goes on and on until she leans into the back to smack a child which will cause her foot to slip off of the accelerator and you can sneak in front of her....if you move quickly.

The I'm the head of the class:  This one applies to when you are in traffic and someone is merging into your lane.  For this scenario (and this is all over the board, old guy, young girl and everything in between), you have NOTHING BUT SPACE behind you and a teeny teeny tenny bit of space in front of you.  The car comes off the merge ramp, is slightly behind you and obviously sees the big space behind you but cannot bare to be one more car length down the expressway so they speed up, causing you to apply your breaks quickly as there really isn't that much space but you are now suddenly grateful for all the space behind you.

The NO you first..Psych!:  This is usually a younger woman.  She is in traffic and makes eye contact with you as you are coming off the ramp.  She gives you a slight head nod and slows which seems to indicate that she is going to let you go in front of her when at the very last second she speeds up making you wonder if that was truly a head nod or perhaps she was just listening to a really good song.

The I'll run your dirty stinkin' ass out of town: Although usually a younger man/boy but sometimes just a person in a crappy mood.  This type will feel your presence and keep in sync with you. (much like the Chicken) however there is nothing to distract them in the car so they simply do their best to run you off the road (or more realistically make you go super slow until you run out of lane and then become the Val). I chose to believe they are laughing like a maniac, smoking marijuana and drinking hooch but in all reality they probably have their music turned up loud, are texting another "WTF" to someone or just not awake yet.

Next time you merge into traffic or have someone merge into your lane, see if you recognize any of these types...oh yea and if you are missing an elderly person, please retrace their routes!

Some Bugs Yet to Work Out…

So I found a bed bug in our house. Yes, as much as I tried to deny it and frantically searched the internet for an insect that I might possibly have mistaken the creature for, I had to finally face the reality. There is no creature that resembles closely enough to where there's any possibility of mistaken identity. The closest insect I could find was your common wood tic. To my knowledge, I've never had a tic invade my body. From what I gathered in my online research regarding bed bugs, I'd much rather welcome the intrusion from a tic. Tics are easier to spot once they engorge themselves on your blood. They are not a big deal to remove, and once squashed, they are gone for good with no fear of their incubating offspring waiting to hatch and launch an assault in legions.

Bed bugs, on the other hand, are breeders of the worst kind. Once a culprit is spotted, even once removed, there is the risk that hatchlings are left behind to carry on the blood-sucking legacy of their parents. As a kid I remember hearing references to these critters, and who hasn't heard the expression "Good night – don't let the bed bugs bite." In my mind I always shelved bed bugs along with the boogeyman, cooties or the even the ever-popular chupacabra, which originates with our Latin American friends. I never took any of these childhood threats very seriously. It always seemed like something adults made up and perpetuated to… well to… umm… I really have no idea why such nonsense was so widely popularized amongst our youth.

Well now I can tell you that the bed bug is a very real threat in today's world. We hear about them in the news as they are reportedly plaguing even the 5 star hotels, where the biggest fear of hotel stays used to be only the threat of former guests' bodily discharges. Retailers now carry an impressive line of early detection monitors along with sprays and traps for these monsters. As I understand it, none of these products are really very effective, but I'm sure marketers have opportunistically jumped on the band wagon, taking full advantage of consumer' fears. Bed bugs are extremely difficult to locate. They come out at night as you sleep and, like mosquitoes, they are attracted by the carbon dioxide we as humans emit as we exhale. These little vampires creep on us, inject us with an anesthetizing agent that renders their prey helplessly oblivious to the puncture of its mandibular, which is what's used to suck blood from their victim. Once sated these little suckers retreat again to the tiniest little crevasses and creases near your bed. Sounds pretty gross huh?

We have dropped some cash and took the precautions that any semi-informed and desperate consumer might do when suddenly faced with a bed bug infestation. I'm happy to report that since we spotted this culprit in our home back in February after I had done some traveling to Haiti and other places, we have not seen another bug. Perhaps it was an isolated case – perhaps a renegade hitchhiker on my luggage. Still once bitten, forever shy.

I still occasionally find myself searching the bed; flipping off the covers quickly at the slightest sensation of a wayward leg hair or spontaneous itch. Sometimes I feel an itch on my scalp. These are all perfectly normal occurrences that I never used to give a second thought. Why is it that such a tiny critter can create such a major frenzy?

You know your old when…

I think I have a fairly youthful perspective.  I’m a hep cat. I tweet.  I know some of the words to songs on B96, I can follow when my kids talk about the shows they watch on MTV (all the mtvs, didn’t there used to be just one?).  I think I’ve moved with the times while keeping my moral core. I never pictured myself as an old granny in a gingham apron baking delicious cookies in between needle pointing pillows that say “home sweet home”.   Recent occurrences has my mind trying to grasp the idea that perhaps I am older in attitude than I thought…..and it all has to do with women in skimpy clothing.

In the old days, when I was faced with a young woman showing lots of flesh, or who was boobalicious and being drooled over by a bevy of men, I would feel the green monster of envy rise up. I would loudly proclaim what a wreck she was, how she was turning her back on decades and decades of women who hard fought to give her rights so that she could be taken seriously in the world.  I’d nit pick every flaw I could find (OH! Did you see how she has a chip in the nail polish on her pinky finger?? FOR REAL?)  I’d  tear these women down sneering in disgust and challenging any man who was with me to disagree.  Lately, however, I have noticed a shift in my reactions. Let me tell you about a recent event.  I was at the Bulls game.  The cheerleaders, or Luvabulls if you will, flounced out on to the floor doing a pompon routine which included miming some sexual activity (at least I think it was sexual, could have been some form of aerobics) and shaking what the good Lord gave em. I leaned over to the person sitting next to me and shrieked “OHMYGOD!! How adorable are they!! They are so cute!!! They are in proper formation, and everyone is so coordinated!”  To which the woman I shrieked to looked at me in a “what are you nuts? And maybe you should change your glasses prescription” kind of way. I shocked myself but thought, maybe this is a sign that I’m getting older. Then I kept on this path. Last Saturday I met people at a bar known for having 72 beers. 72 BEERS!  The anticipation almost made me speed over the 30 mph, however, a law is a law.  I arrived, parked, walked in with my friends and noticed that the girls were wearing little plaid skirts.  One of the younger women in my group started throwing around “objectification” and I found these words escaping from my lips “oh but they are wearing t-shits that cover their bellies up! They are so adorable, and they are wearing knee socks and sensible shoes. They seem like such sweet girls.”  Not a thought about how dowdy they made me feel as I drank my beer in my 501s and hoodie, not a glance around at the men to make sure they were not leering, not a bitchy nit picky thing. Oh, the jury has weighed in and yes, your attitude is aging.  To some, this may be a point of panic, a depressing realization, a sad reminder of the passage of time, but I think I’ll embrace it and enjoy the fact that I can accept my sisters for who they are and what they feel comfortable in wearing, or not.

Like the Swallows of Capistrano…

… So are the pair of mallard ducks that arrive to my backyard every spring, without fail. This has been the ritual for close to 20 years, since I put in an ornamental pond. There is usually a male and a female, and like clockwork they have always arrived between St. Patrick's Day and the first official day of spring, March 21^st. Many years they have appeared on the official first day of spring. They hang around for about 6 weeks or so, swimming, basking on the side of the pond, waddling around the grounds and we've even found eggs at pond's edge from time-to-time during their yearly sojourn. After about 6 weeks, or so, they take off to an undisclosed destination. They won't come again till the next spring.

Our small pond/water garden at this time of year is really just a stagnant pool of grey water that is not very attractive. Once I connect the pump and filter, which serves to also drive a little water fall, dredge out some of the leaves and accumulated debris that has collected over the winter months, and the water lilies begin to reach their padded little arms upwards toward the increasing daylight, everything begins to transform. The water soon becomes crystal clear, birds, frogs and other wildlife begin to make regular visits, or take up residence all together. I will return the koi fish and comets that have wintered over in my basement tank – they always appear eager to embrace the more natural habitat and get a taste of the (relative) wild.

It seems that this year summer is already upon us with temperatures already breaching 80 degrees – quite unusual, but so was our extremely mild winter for the Chicago and Midwest region. Everything is coming to life! The forsythias, magnolias are in bloom; lilacs are not far behind and all manner of green shoots are breaking through the soil and reaching heavenward.
Easter is just around the corner. A reminder of rebirth, and for those of the Christian faith a promise of new life, and much like the cycle of my pond, it goes from dull stagnancy to abundant life, new clarity, and perfectly balanced beauty all in its proper season…

Mr. Limpet is Truly Incredible!

The Incredible Mr. Limpet (Warner Bros. 1964) was one of the first live action/animation feature length films that really left an indelible impression on me as a youth. The "technology" was nothing new, even back then, but you really only experienced this kind of magic in cartoon shorts or very brief sequences, such as Gene Kelly and Jerry Mouse's classic dance duet in the 1945 film Anchors Aweigh. Bringing live action and animation techniques together in feature length films become more popular during the 60's and 70's. Movies like Disney's Mary Poppins (64), Bedknobs and Broomsticks (71) and Pete's Dragon (77) are some examples.

If you're not familiar with the movie, The Incredible Mr. Limpet, I really urge you to rent it. But keep in mind, this is early 1960s and you can't expect the vibrancy and sharp animation quality that you'll find in today's HD, 3D, Surround experience. Perhaps this is the reason that a remake of this film, also by Warner Bros. studios, starring Zach Galifianakis is currently in the works.

The 1964 version stars Don Knotts as Henry Limpet. Long story short, Limpet is a bespectacled, nerdy bookkeeper whose uncorrected vision is poor enough to keep him from enlisting in the war (WW2). His passion and hobby are fish. He loves the marine world of fish so much that while spending a day at Coney Island in New York, he accidentally falls in the water off the pier and is transformed into a fish himself, "nature correcting her error" he later surmises.

This is where the story turns from live action to animation. Limpet, along with his new found friends, Ladyfish and Crusty, an ill-tempered hermit crab, cruise the Atlantic. Mr. Limpet discover Nazi U-boats wreaking havoc on the Allied convoy fleets and decides to join the war effort by spotting Nazi subs and reporting their location to the U.S. Navy convoy so they can destroy the menace and win the war in the Atlantic. Limpet is later commissioned and paid, sending his government checks to his land-based wife Bessie, who all this time thought she was widowed. In the end, Limpet is promoted and continues to work for the navy training porpoises for future missions.

Not only is this a great movie with a compelling and dramatic storyline, but I find it interesting that this movie has been as strangely prophetic in forecasting the future use of marine mammals as Jules Verne was in his uncanny ability to preconceive such future advancements as the atomic submarine (20,000 Leagues Under the Sea) and From the Earth to the Moon, his fictional account of man's travel into space. Today dolphins are commonly used in the detection of underwater mines. But just as the dog's keen sense of smell makes it ideal for detecting land mines, the U.S. Navy has found that the biological sonar of dolphins, called echolocation, makes them uniquely effective at locating sea mines so they can be avoided or removed.

In fact, marine mammals are so important to the Navy today that there is an entire program dedicated to studying, training, and deploying them. It is appropriately called the Navy Marine Mammal Program (NMMP). I remember after watching The Incredible Mr. Limpet, as a kid, wishing too that I could become a fish. But with the prospect of working for the U.S. government at today's paltry wages and streamlined benefit programs…forget it! If I were a fish you can look for me at the spawning grounds…

Consumer Packaged Goods in Serious Need of Overhaul

A question that has baffled me for many years is why so many of the consumer packaged goods that we use today still use the same old-school packaging that my great grandparents were accustomed to in the early 1900's. Much of this packaging, in my opinion, has a lot of room for update and improvement.

With all the CPG market research and shopper insights being conducted today, why is it that we have to settle for many of these antiquated package designs. Am I the only one who thinks this odd? Do people truly believe that functionality is at its optimal with these designs or that this is some retro throwback that should conjure impressions of simpler times? I don't think you can really consider something "retro" unless it is absent from the market for a number of years and later resurrected for nostalgia. But then many times where this is the case, at least you have a choice: the old is often positioned side-by-side with the new and improved counterpart.

My top four products that could use a good makeover:

Salt – I'm talking about the standard 26 oz. cylindrical box with that awful aluminum-hinged spout where after invariably severing the skin under your finger nail on engaging the slide; you must then deal with the awkward opening and closing of same. And heaven forbid that you wrench it too hard thereby tearing it out of its port…it will never be the same again. Pushing it too hard into the box port carries with it even more serious implications, however.

Flour – is the only way to package this have to be a paper bag? There's no graceful means of opening this type of packaging without releasing a fine plume of airborne particulates similar to that of forensic talcum used in dusting for prints. Re-closing such packaging is equally as awkward and messy. When a point is reached where you can roll the bag shut it becomes increasingly difficult to store so it's more often wedged or jammed between items to keep from spilling. I wonder, do people really use counter-top canisters all that much?

Milk – I hate the cardboard spouts that need to be slowly torn open and spread apart. Yes, I know there's an arrow indicating which end it is that is supposed to work, but even given that, it's often a clumsy proposition. At least with milk cartons somebody got wise and developed packaging resembling the traditional carton, but only with a plastic screw-top inserted in the top. Why bother – if you're going to redesign, why not go all the way.

Breakfast Cereal – I'm talking about that waxy plastic bag inside the box. Do you cut it…tear it? And if you do manage to pull it apart at the seam like a bag o'chips, there's about a fifty-fifty chance that this can be accomplished without an explosion of flakes, clusters, nuts and dried fruit all over the kitchen area. And then as you consume the product over time you must roll the bag over itself and jam it back in the box with the renegade flakes that somehow find their way outside the bag and into the box. Oh, I suppose I'm now expected to keep a cereal canister on my counter too, right next to the flour!

Ohhhmmmmmmm

As I age I find that a lot of things my elders told me would happen, has happened...dammit.  Some of these things are to do with the ravages of time (wrinkles, memory not as sharp, making old men noises when you get out of bed in the morning, but luckily my uterus hasn't fallen out in the bathtub (that is a story for another day...)) but some of them are what comes with wisdom  if you pay attention.

One of the positives is the realization that petty little things and even petty big things start to lose their significance.  Material goods are less sought after and even seem a burden at times.  The true pleasures in life can be a laugh with a friend, being the shoulder for a friend in need to cry on, answering a question from your daughter about how to cook frozen vegetables and taking a late night walk around your neighborhood and realize how you luckily ended up just where you needed to be when you needed to be there.  My theory about what happens to us as we age, the changes to our body, minds and outlook is natures way of getting you to realize, before it is too late, the wonder of this beautiful existence and the amazing people within it.  People who have different views, outlooks, backgrounds and passions. Lucky are we who surround ourselves with people and not things.

The Seedy Side of Snack Foods

Who doesn't occasionally like to munch on a salty snack? But if "occasionally" translates to more than 3 or 4 times a week, then I think it wise to find a satisfying snack that is not fried and has some redeeming value or even a "perceived" health benefit.

I believe that roasted pumpkin seeds walk this fine line of satisfying that junk food craving, while at the same time, finding redemption by also possessing a rather impressive nutrient profile. These flat kernels are second only to peanuts in protein content, lower in fat than most nuts and an excellent source of iron. What I also like about pumpkin seeds is the low-maintenance required to eat them. Pumpkin seeds can be eaten, shell-and-all, so there is no cracking, peeling, spitting or ditching of outer husks to be concerned about.

The problem with pumpkin seeds is that it's nearly impossible to find a brand that does 'em just right. Most brands of pumpkin seeds you'll find in the market today are much too salty. Or worse yet, they have almost no salt at all – you'd be better off buying a bag of bird seed. I've sampled some that look appealing in the package, but then turn out to be too pliable with little or no crunch.

About 5 years ago I discovered the perfect seed at Trader Joe's. Trader Joe's pumpkin seeds are done to perfection! Not under or over roasted, lightly salted and you'll get a generous size bag at a relatively low cost. Now the problem with TJ's seed is that it is available for a time and then disappears for many months, even years at a time. I actually went through a spell of nearly 2 years without my TJ's seed fix. This last spell where it became available, I stocked up and even had my friends buying up seed for future reserve during the long famine periods. Whenever I go to a Trader Joe's store I immediately run to the seed aisle with hopeful anticipation, and frequent disappointment.

Why can't anybody else do pumpkin seeds right?

Free Wi-Fi…Really?

I can't understand why it is still so common to see signs on restaurants, coffee shops, hotels and various retail establishments announcing "Free Wi-Fi". Really? This provision has become so common these days that you'd be a fool to actually pay a dime for Wi-Fi service. And you'd be an even bigger fool to expect to collect a fee for providing the service.

I understand there was a time, not so very long ago, when wireless internet connectivity was newer on the technology landscape. The access of internet without an ethernet cable was quite the coveted convenience for those who were traveling with laptops and were frequently working from internet cafes and hotel rooms. Today, it's rare to find a person, regardless of age, who doesn't rely on wireless connectivity for a wide range of potential devices, including: Smartphone, electronic E-readers, iPads, DS gaming systems and other such internet-dependant gadgets.
With everybody and their mothers now providing wireless routers it seems almost criminal these days to exact payment for said service. So why state it at all? If somebody actually had cojones big enough to ask a fee to connect to their wireless service, I think all you'd need to do is take a short walk down the street, or even a door away to find somebody who gives it away.
The term "Free Wi-Fi" has become as pointless as the sign on the corner tavern that reads, "Cold Beer". Oh really…as opposed to all the other watering holes in town that subject me to their room-temperature brew? Did the iceman finally get there and you have a fresh block in the icebox? Or what about the sign on the motel that for years read: "Heated Pool"? I saw this for years after it was standard practice to provide comfortable swimming pool temperatures.
And my all time favorite, and this I actually spotted on a flea-bag motel when I traveled through the deep South this past summer…drum roll please… "Color Television". I wonder if it was cable?

While the cats away...

Its been months since I've contributed and I've let my partner in crime just take over. Well that stops now and I'm going to get away with some mayhem while he is in Haiti!  So I really want to title this...

Top 10 reasons every woman should have a gay hairdresser:

10.  He always has at least one story that he has to get real close and whisper when he tells you (juicy!!)
9.  He makes a hilarious creeped out face whenever you say "vagina"
8.  He sometimes calls his boyfriend twinkle toes
7.  He thinks he is the butch one......(we asked him today to stand in his most butch position....I don't think the ballet russe could pose more graceful....)
6.  He always can be counted on to say "you know what would look really good on you??" and proceed to tell you not only what, but where to buy it.
5.  He listens and remembers your deal and isn't afraid to give you strong advice
4.  When you tell him "Oh I'd like you to cut my hair like this or color it this color" he says "no" and then moves on to tell you a story about his bitchy relative and does what he likes.
3.  He looks more crestfallen than you do when you tell him something bad that happens to you.
2.  He calls flamboyant gays "fruity loopys".
1.  When he sends you out the door not only does your hair look great but your self esteem soars and you feel like a princess....now when has any other man done that for you???

Bow Ties – Latest Cool Trend for Men!

Okay, I'm going to admit it up front – I don't think this is true about bow ties being the latest cool fashion trend for today's men. I always figure contradictory statements drive more traffic. I personally think bow ties are cool just by their virtue of being somewhat un-cool, unless of course you are attending a black tie event and sporting it with a tux. I began wearing bow ties some years ago. I suppose it began for me as a fun statement, bucking the established convention of  fashion. Bow ties, when worn as casual dress are still largely considered the mark of a poindexter, a nerd first-class, an intellectual misfit or academic outlier. Although, Harrison Ford wore it  well in the Indiana Jones movies. I think I also possess a good measure of nerd, intellectual and socially awkward attributes to pull off the look. Heck, I even have a scar under my lip, the same as Ford. And coincidentally, both sustained by the same means - smashing our face into a steering wheel while crashing our car during our teen years.

A bow tie should never be a clip-on type (unless you are a child). Part of the whole bow tie experience is learning the art of tying the perfect bow – symmetrical and balanced. I always think that a bow tie looks equally cool when undone, taking on a new role and providing an altogether bold and spunky appearance. This of course happens at a later point in the evening after dinner is done, lights are low the drink bill is high. This is the point in the evening when most other men are loosening their traditional neck ties, opening their collars and in rare cases, wearing them as headbands (if they are excessively-tanked). It is at this time where I undo the bow, allowing the ends of the tie to dangle freely, providing that gritty look that Bond might convey after a good night at the tables in Monte, or maybe after a good chase across the tile rooftops of Istanbul and the Grand Bazaar.  At the same time, it's important to make the clear statement…this is not a clip-on bow… "yes, I tied it myself".

I'm going to leave for Haiti in a few days on a short-term service trip. I was asked to deliver a personal message and testimony to a congregation of about 400 or more. The Haitian tradition dictates that the nationals wear their very best while attending church. Out of respect for the people and culture, our team too, will wear much dressier attire than we normally would for our own church services at home in the U.S.. Our team leader also suggested that we might want to think of a way whereby we would be easily identified from one another by the people – something that would clearly set us apart as unique from the others in our group. He told us to think of something we will be remembered by, even on subsequent visits to the country.

To my Haitian hosts, I hope to be the one fondly remembered as, "The man with the bow tie". I must find out how that translates to French Creole. I bet it sounds very cool.

I'm On a Roll...Let's Talk Tamales!

So, this is one of those evenings where there is no planned dinner to speak of. These occasions are actually rare in my household, but they do occur about once a month, usually due to scheduling situations that force a late lunch for my wife. This results in a fast food alternative for her and kids, which leaves me hanging, as I come in later from a commute from the city. This simply means that I need fend for myself, whether it involves opening a can of soup, snacking on hummus and pita chips, or just noshing on an eclectic sample of food item stores available in the various fridge compartments.

Sometimes I can get very creative, but tonight I just wanted something quick, satisfying and relatively healthy. It suddenly struck me that I had a few dozen tamales in the freezer…perfect! When I say tamales, I'm not talking about those over-processed, salty, paper-bound junk food items that are a side item that you find at a Chicago-style hot dog joint. These are the real deal! My mom being Mexican does it right, the Mexican way…

And as any good Mexican will tell you, tamales are done around the holidays, are mass-produced and can be a family social event as several dozen can be prepared, with varying ingredients from pork, beef, cheese, chili peppers or any combination thereof. A real Mexican tamale is made from yellow or white corn masa, rolled in a corn husk and bound with a string of husk. They are generally grouped in half-dozen packages and given to family and friends as gifts.

Every year my Mom and Dad prepare several dozen and bring these gifts to our home at Christmas time. And every year I count on at least one of my brothers forgetting his dozen and leaving me with additional inventory. The rule is to always steam them – never microwave, as this dries them out. I love them and can easily make a meal by adding some salsa, sour cream, an avocado and some beans on the side. This is my dinner tonight. I realize my parents only have so many tamale-producing times left, so I must learn the art, keep up the tradition and keep rolling on…

Key to Keeping New Year's Resolutions is Ending the Old Year Strong

I'm feeling very confident about this new year. Generally, the beginning of each new year brings many of the same resolutions: recommitment to exercise and nutrition regimens, setting new career goals, renewing spiritual focus and commitments to faith and working on developing family and friend relationships. I might also add, learning some new things, reading more, watching less television and spending less money, while finding contentment in where I am, rather than in what I have.

This year I feel as though I've got a head start on many of these goals. I think this is due to the fact that I made an effort, beginning in mid-December, to launch some new behaviors and disciplines with the hope of building enough momentum to carry into 2012. What usually happens at the end of the year, when I have nearly 3 weeks at home, away from the office. I tend to get into a nesting mode where I watch a lot of television, eat and drink more indulgently and take a break from my regular exercise routines. This was not the case this year.

The end of 2011 had me finish reading through the entire Bible again (both Testaments), going to the local gym every other day (if there was any measurable snowfall, I would've been cross-country skiing the nearby woods on alternate days), learning the French Creole language through a wonderful (and free!) download that a company called Byki makes available. Incidentally, I have learned nearly 60 words or phrases in the language at the time of this writing. This is in preparation for an upcoming mission trip to Haiti in a few weeks. To also prepare for this trip, I've gone to the public library and checked out some books on the turbulent history, culture and geography of Haiti. I also checked out a new video documentary. I will no-doubt return from this adventure with a renewed appreciation for the many multiple blessings this country affords and are easily taken for granted.

I have also been working on a freelance copywriting service to hopefully help supplement my current income. This is also a means for me to get some fulfillment as a wordsmith, something that I very much enjoy. I have purchased the website domain and I'm currently working on the copy. A coworker friend has designed a beautiful logo for me and I am finalizing some of the details - business cards, portfolio samples and layout stuff. I hope to launch this initiative by March. I'm keeping my expectations moderate, in terms of a lucratively rewarding venture. If I can have a little fun, make some money and build some new connections and friendships, which would be good enough for a start. Oh, and I still have an award winning screenplay, Martin Eden, that I am still pimping out for representation and hopefully an option one day.

I figured if I put some of this out in writing that I might be more inclined to keep up my momentum. It's all about growing, learning, fulfilling, relating and giving back. Oh, and one other thing I need to keep up on…I must continue blogging…