happy thanksgiving 2 weeks late

The turkey is negotiating for his life right now.

He may be giving up. He's requesting a priest now.

Tears roll off his beak as he eats his last meal. It's a favorite from his youth: Mama's creamed tuna on toast with sweet peas. Afterward, he inhales the best cigarette he's ever had.

The walk to the chop block is deliberately slow. The kids trail behind, wailing. In the distance, a church bell tolls with each step. He knows the bell tolls or him.

They reach the block. Now at peace with his sentence, he throws a challenging glance at the instrument of his own demise: a shiny axe. You can take my life and my body but my soul will be free, he thinks, snickering to himself.

The axe swoops up slowly as the turkey locks eyes with his executioner. "Gobble Gobble" says the turkey in the last second of his life. His detached head rolls off the block leaving behind the family feast.

Today's technology cannot translate turkey speak but the machines of tomorrow will give a chilling transcript of the turkey's last, only words.

"May the ingestion of my flesh cause a post-feast, mouth-gaping, football missing food coma and uncontrollable, sweat inducing diarrhea standing in line on Black Friday you bastards."

my colombian drug problem

I haven't been sleeping well. I am usually diligently asleep at 10pm but wide awake at a too soon 3am. I am not understanding this but I may have an idea. Is it because of my new found affinity for one morning cup of coffee? Maybe if it was the coffee, I'd have trouble getting to sleep. Good gosh, there are some people at work who drink coffee all day. I know it's not stress because I have seemed to adapt to the times and cope just like everyone else in the world. Mostly.

Mind you, some days I'll pound one or two Diet Cokes as a supplement to get me through the day but I've never had this problem. Too much caffeine I suppose. In any case, coffee is good, great and wonderful. It has taken me 40 years to discover the power of a morning cup of me (Joe) and I think I'm addicted.

I think I have my wife to thank for my addiction. It all started when she brought home our new single cup Keurig brewer. We had an old brewer that produced 10 cups in a pot but I never could master the science of a correctly measured scoop. This thing is much easier because all you do is throw in a prepackaged, correctly measured, take the guess work out of it K-CUP, hit a button and 30 seconds later you're drinking coffee. Done.

I can't believe I haven't discovered the magical benefits of a morning cup sooner. I think clearer and acquire much needed energy. Unlike some people, I don't crash. For now though, one cup is the limit. I'm sure if I increase my daily intake to two or more I won't sleep at all and that will lead to newer addictions like self-prescribing strong doses of sleeping pills. Then, much like Elvis Presley at the end of his life, I'd be in a vicious cycle of needing drugs to wake up and to fall asleep. And, believe me, the only way I want to mimic Elvis is the whole women screaming and fainting in my very presence thing. Wait, that happens already.

So, next time I sleep over at your house I'll have mine with some half & half and two packets of Splenda. It's the perfect way to start a day. I just wish I'd sleep longer.

13:55

When saying the word coupon, is it cue-pon or coo-pon?

I worked out hard today. I am trying to stay ahead of the game with the upcoming stuffyerface holiday next week. I am still trying to recover from the kids' birthdays a few weeks back where I felt my midsection grow a bit.

There's a Facebook Note floating around right now entitled 15 movies you've seen that will always stick with you. I usually don't do these things but I thought what the heck and filled it out. It was a lot of work at the time to come up with the 15, but now that it's done and posted I can come up with 30 more.

Looking forward to seeing everyone next week.

! happy birthday evan !

Our little Evan celebrated his second birthday this week. Sadly, this was lost in the Phillies' World Series hoopla and I neglected to report on this remarkable occasion.

He's been under the weather since last Saturday but that didn't keep him from enjoying his delicious cupcake after he blew out his candle (on his own, BTW). Then it was off to enjoy his new plastic golf clubs and his WOW WOW Wubzy toy.

Evan offers contrast from his older brother. They are as different as two kids can be coming from the same start point. We all know Eric is sensitive but the jury is still out deliberating verdict on Evan. Eric will mess with him and you can tell Evan's taking notes for when he gets a little bigger to deliver payback. He is a quiet, behind-the-scenes observer. He'll watch, he'll wait and then he'll do when nobody's looking. He will violently destroy, but he always rebuilds. He is very good at puzzles, many at one time. In my biased opinion, he has all the traits to become either ninja assassin or NASA mechanic. His vocabulary is expanding. He now says words like UP (for down), DOWN, BOO BOO, WELCOME (for thank you), HAPPY, WOW, LOOK, MOM, DAD and JOE. He will say JOE after repeated attempts to get my attention using DAD have gone unanswered. My favorite is if someone says UH-OH he will say SPAGHETTIO in his own little way. Everyday is something new and fun. Plus, he is impossibly handsome.

We are so blessed to have him after our struggles to make him. Hopefully next year at this time he's sitting on a toilet, diaper free, wiping his own butt. Hopefully, he'll be forming perfect sentences telling us about his feelings or what he wants from Santa and hopefully he isn't kicking Eric's ass for one reason or another on a daily basis.

Two years down, a lifetime of learning, tinkering and older brother ass-kicking to go.

little suzie

Little Suzie* comes home from school one afternoon in a triumphant mood. Her mother asks her why she's so bubbly and vibrant. Little Suzie explains to her that the boys make her do cartwheels during after-lunch recess whenever she wears a skirt.

Mom: Oh you know why they do that Suzie? Those perverted boys want to see your underwear!

Little Suzie: I know mom! But I showed them! I took my underwear off and put them in my backpack before lunch. Stupid boys!

*the fictitious character Little Suzie is in no way associated with my wife Susan. You all know she can't do a cartwheel. Any similarities are purely coincidental.

painting and non-sweeping

My dad is here and we got some long overdue painting done. The stairwell leading upstairs looks a lot better. Evan and Eric are enjoying pop-pop.

Speaking of stairs, a special message goes out to Phillies DH Matt Stairs: Thanks for providing the one run last night with a nice hit. Boy, I thought the Phils were gonna smoke Yankee pitcher and tattoo doofus A.J. Burnett, but he had some stellar stuff last night. The Phils swung at too many pitches that were in the dirt or weren't strikes. They watched the good pitches go by and swung at the garbage. My hat's off to Burnett.

So we know the Yankers won't be swept and we will see if the good guys can right the ship Saturday at Citizens Bank Park. My bet is yes. The pitchers now have to hit which changes the game tremendously.

Phils 1-0 World Series lead because...

i've done both

i am what i eat

Well it's almost 4 am and I feel sick. Not because of the flu or any airborne illness but because I just inhaled an immense amount of junk. I collapsed. I don't know what happened. I wish I could throw it all up.

I was given a mission by Sue to get milk for the morning. So off I went to our local 24 hour Redner's Supermaket. The store is usually a ghost town at 2pm, and tonight was no different. I like walking the aisles of empty stores with an overwhelming hunger for junk. The devil on my right shoulder always trumps the angel on my left when I'm standing in front of some kind of coveted garbage food. DO IT JOE. Just do extra sit-ups tomorrow. There's only one checkout person and there's nobody here to judge you. Atta boy! There's always regret afterward though, as there is right now (burps, gas).

I checked out the deals. I only buy my junk food on sale. My favorite chips were on sale! 2 big bags for $4! One bag is now history. Burritos 2/1.00! No way! I'll buy six. Two burritos down the pie hole. Celeste Pizza For One! I only bought one. And it, much like the burritos and chips, is swimming in a half bottle of Diet Coke. I wish you could feel the grease pouring out of my pores, like I do right now! I think I'll suspend my gripes about the state of health insurance for the time being.

But I accomplished my mission and Sue will awaken to fresh milk for the boys and half a bottle of Diet Coke for her to enjoy tomorrow. And somehow, this makes me feel better. Even if I did eat 5 days worth of fat in a little over 30 minutes.

I am now going to barf.

4:01am 8 lbs 4 ozs

Today is the anniversary of a very important and special event for Sue and I. Today is the day a few years back where life as we knew it ended and the sudden realization came that all day, everyday, wasn't about us anymore.

Sixty months ago Eric was born. I know I say this a lot but time flies. It's hard to believe that 8 pounds has turned into 47. It's hard to believe that whimpers and cries have turned into words and intelligent conversation. It's hard to believe that fit-the-shape puzzles morphed into excellent dexterity on an ipod, laptop computer and video games (ugh, I know).

What's not hard to believe is the immense honor and pride we feel in being blessed with such a perfect little boy, who has become a sensitive, smiling gentleman right before our amazed, speechless eyes.

Happy Birthday Eric. Keep growing, keep amazing us and changing our world. And thanks for choosing Sue and I.

train ride

Mom took Eric on his first train ride today. They got on the 3:00 to Vera Cruz at The Pennsburg Train Station and were gone for about 2 hours. Motion sickness was reported by both as the train topped out at ten miles per hour.

Who wants to pull this train with me?

I think I have Mommy's eyes

Daddy rented this whole train car for me and Mom

Are we home yet?

football

back of the net, baby

Soccer is officially over for the season. It was fun to see Eric play when I could. When I could see, that is. Something needs to be done about maybe moving the season up on the calendar because 6 pm start times in September and October make for a very dark match. Injury could result if nothing's done and we don't want to see that for anyone's child.

baseball, kids and methane madness!

I got kicked out of work 4 hours early today but who cares because the Phillies just won the NL East for the third year in a row. Couldn't watch it though because DirecTv sucks. Thank goodness for the new MLB Network that launched this year with their superb live game cut-ins. I'm a fanatic. Or a Phanatic. Another October of exciting home team playoff baseball. The analysts on MLB were talking of maybe a little dynasty shaping up with the Phils and their young players. I can't argue.

Evan and Eric got trimmed and shot today. Haircuts and flu shots for both. Only took 17 people to hold Eric down this week opposed to the 27 last week when he got his teeth cleaned. He then came home and completed his homework assignment without mom's help.

Highlight of the week thus far was Monday when I came home from work and most of Sue's family was here celebrating Yom Kippur. I have to say my eldest nephew caught me off guard with his size and voice. Where did the little guy go? Did I see some five o' clock shadow? I'm predicting I'll be looking up at him in a year and a half. Can somebody hand-cuff the clock please? I still remember him in Sue's apartment sleeping in the baby car seat. Time flies. Another memorable incident from this gathering of family was when my usually quiet and innocent sister-in-law tried to draft-fart me without detection. Draft-farting is a self-invented term for the act of walking by someone without breaking stride and floating a beefy one in their face. The only thing was, this was not beefy. Initially, she got me, as I was in deep conversation with Sue when someone walked by (Ar) and a noise was heard but I was looking to see if the cats were present because I never heard a fart that small. It honestly took 5 minutes of intense thinking to get my brain wrapped around the fact that what I heard was a human fart. Geez Ar, next time make sure you're ready to deliver the goods. I will lay down the ground work if you want to do some research so next time you might peel some paint and clear the room. The characteristics of a good fart are duration, resonance and muzzle velocity. Adam will explain if you need help.

it's 4th and long - let's go for it

I was just thinking about the state of things with the world, our nation and my paycheck. My paycheck is smaller with cut hours and the bills that come are larger. How in the hell does this work?

I am sick and tired of the bureaucracy of our legislature. I am sick and tired of the ineffective debates on health care. I am sick of this nation's inability to produce anything physically tangible to sell on the world market. Computers and the management of digital information rule the day. Phooey.

Soon I will be calling for the 500 plus people who lead this country to step down. What good are they?

I will create jobs by erecting a giant toilet bowl on the Mall in D.C. so we can flush all these former leaders and lawmakers into the Potomac River. Yes We Can will become Oh Yes I Did.

I will then appoint Glenn Beck, Rachel Maddow, Bill O'Reilly, The Dixie Chicks and Bill Maher to the top spots in Washington to see if the armchair quarterbacked hot air they blow weekly can turn things around. If they can talk about what's wrong now, they should be able to fix it, right? Four people and a country music group. Just about the right size for our federal government. You might've asked yourself, where's Rush Limbaugh? Well he was wrong about a certain black athlete that plays in the NFL and for that we'll start him out on the state level as governor of Mississippi or Alabama.

Drastic times call for drastic measures and this over-taxed American wants change for the sake of my family's future.

milestone

Every once and a while we have to scratch our own backs.

Today's entry is blog post number 50. For those of you that know me you know this is a mind-boggling feat on my part. To accomplish 50 of any one thing... it's just not me. But against all odds and everyone's (including my own) misconception of Joseph P. Harter, I did it. I didn't realize I was about to embark on number 50 until I looked down the sidebar two weeks ago and saw the number 49. I wasn't shooting for this number. I'm not being paid to write. I have no ads on this page. Some posts took me hours and some took minutes. However long each post took it's been fun. To be honest, the first set of comments from my initial post was all I needed. Comments signify that I'm being read and I love them. I'm hooked.

Authoring a blog was an experiment of sorts to wake my brain. I'm glad I tried it out. I type better and faster now. My reporting skills are much better. I enjoy writing about my kids. All in all, I've tapped into a portion of my mind that I never knew existed. I have never written while intoxicated but I often wonder what I'd produce while on a few higher consciousness drugs. Probably a lot of shit about health care, politicians, TV evangelists and oil company executives. I'll stay away.

If I was to leave this earth tomorrow I hope someone will pass this web address on to my kids when they're of age. Maybe they'll be proud of who their dad was and what he accomplished. Yes, I'm blowing this 50 thing way out of proportion but it's a learned skill (from my bro Mark) to always take anything one says to the next level of absurdity and then take it further. There's always another level. Unclear? Here's an example using a conversation with my brother:

Mark: I had to discipline Jayman today. He was being a bear.
Me: Oh man, what did you do?
Mark: I had to put him in a timeout.
Me: No way.
Mark: (3 second pause) There was fire involved also.
Me: Cool.
Mark: (3 second pause) And a staple gun.
Mark: (3 second pause) Then I punched my neighbor in the face and shit in his pool.

I swear it's all an act. Mark is a great dad. It's just an exercise we like to do whenever we're together. If we ever timed it, my sister-in-law would get the world record for eye rolling.

I have learned that the title of my blog, Bare Witness, is also the title of a movie. This is depressing because I thought I was being creative with that title. So, I'm thinking about changing it. I also would not like to be sued even though I'd defend myself and win and be the subject of many law school textbooks. Oops, there I go again. The next logical choice for a name (in my mind) would be Beer Witness but I don't know. Any ideas? There may be a monetary prize for something that catches my eye.

Side note for historical reasons:

Sue ran out of gas on Route 663 today. She didn't run out of the kind of gas that makes the sheets move in the morning. She has plenty of that. I'm talking about the van. The freaking Odyssey's fuel door is on the driver side of the vehicle. This location is fine if you live in Great Britain and drive on the left side of the road but because we don't I had to put some gas in the van with my ass basically in front of traffic. When I say traffic, I mean 18 wheelers traveling at mach 7. Quite the adventure it was. Hopefully Sue learned that driving the van around town for three days with the fuel light on means she should probably stop and get gas starting out the fourth day. I have coached Eric nonetheless to ask mommy if there's enough gas every time they get in the car.

This is getting long winded and I apologize. My whole point at the beginning of this great, Pultitzer deserving milestone post was to thank all my readers for their time and taking an interest towards what I have to say even if it's mindless nonsense. Sincerely. Thank you!

Number 50 in the books. Now if you'll excuse me there's a parade in my honor.

a little of everything

Our family and friends outing to Knoebels Amusement Park was tragically cancelled today due to Mother Nature and her never ending quest to squash any plan that is birthed from the mind of yours truly. It always happens this way. The idea came forth two weeks ago mid-shift in the hell-hole I call work. Since then the weather has been straight sunshine. Until today. Rain with a chance of more rain. Sorry Eric. I tried to come through for you buddy. Maybe next week.

Last night I witnessed Eric play Pee Wee Soccer and I had a blast. It was the first time for me seeing him participate in an organized sporting event. He ran up and down the field, mostly behind or around the throng of kids that were attacking the ball but his foot never touched it. I was alright with this because earlier in the week he told me he didn't understand why some kids on his own team are trying to kick the ball at the same time he is. Anyway, the scrum around the ball is cutthroat. His aggressiveness and courage will come in time.

Earlier in the afternoon, before soccer, Eric and I spent some quality father-son time cleaning and vacuuming the inside of my new car, which happens to be Sue's old car. I am now driving the Subaru Forrester (which is another way of saying ugly, over-grown station wagon). There is now a giant bruise on my ego but the thing is really fun to drive in the snow. I traded in my beloved Taurus SHO (tears flowed) and moved Sue into a vehicle more befitting of her newfound Soccer Mom Status. I had to cave-in to her logical request for a a bigger vehicle to accommodate our growing children and to also be able to cart their friends. So she is now driving a Honda Odyssey and I have to say it's really nice and drives like a car. A little bigger than Sue is used to but she's managing just fine.

Getting back to the cleaning bit with Eric now. I was on wipe down duty and Eric controlled the vacuum. We were listening to the radio and working hard and I Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas came on and it was cute to hear Eric begin to sing the chorus or hook to the song word for word along with the singer on the radio while happily sweating his ass off vacuuming. From this point on I will think of this every time I hear this song.

I gotta feeling, that tonight's gonna be a good night, that tonight's gonna be a good night...

happy birthday sue!

What do you get the girl who has everything?

a little off the top

Wow, folks. I can't believe I haven't embraced this whole middle age thing sooner. I got my hair cut off today and I have to say I look gooood. I'm telling you, first glance in the mirror and I see Clooney staring back at me. Turn a little and I see Pitt. The eyes, the face, the beard stubble, the non-hair and crooked smile all add up to hot. You are hot, Joe.

This just in: Sue has informed me I'm a raging egomaniac with a slight case of dude envy. And to drive the proverbial nail into my fantasy she's telling me I actually resemble a female lesbian version of a bald Steve Buscemi. That could be a compliment though because the guy is a great comedic actor. (Thanks Sue!)

Oh well, a guy can dream.

2:56 am

I don't know why but I found myself a little jealous tonight with my wife (of all people) fawning over Jeff on Big Brother. He's so handsome. He's going to age well, you can just tell was exactly what I heard. No doubt, the guy is blessed with the goods and definitely is smarter than I gave him credit for in the beginning. I learned on Big Brother After Dark that he is Head of Household after winning the HOH competition that was chopped at the end of the CBS broadcast. It's a good position to be in with six people left. On After Dark they were all celebrating with some wine and all the ladies left in the game were saying the same thing my wife did. Damn you, Jeff.

I am now watching the 1968 version of The Thomas Crown Affair with Steve McQueen and Faye Dunaway. I'd have to say it's pretty boring compared with the latest version that came out a few years ago. Not heavy on dialogue but really obese on the sexual tension between Steve and Faye. And, in every shot, someone is smoking a cigarette. Steve now has her in the palm of his hand unlike the beginning when Faye seemed like the one who thought she was in control. Ha! Steve just jetted off without her and she's a mess! Screw you Faye! You lost! HA! I think I prefer the newer one.

A question I'm asked a lot lately is how I feel about Michael Vick signing with the Eagles. I have my own words about the whole scenario but I'd rather quote my brother in an email I received a short time ago. Here you go:

Its all they talk about on AM 610 WIP. Same shit every day this week. I think most people support it but of course with anything you only hear the extremes. Like the doosh that buys the Vick jersey for his dog and walks around bragging about it. This guy is prob 20-25 yrs old, black and lives in the hood. Or the doosh that protests the practice facility with his dog on a leash. Usually this guy is a white middle aged male with a mustache, pony tail and sandals on.

I say fuck them all. I watch football to be entertained and this mother fucker can run like the wind. So, if he does the right shit off the field I have no problem watching him on the field.

I replied with this:

I am tired of it all. The guy did a crime and done the time. Let's score some touchdowns.

I am not saying what he did was acceptable. The guy made a mistake and he paid for it. He is allowed to re-enter society and make a living. I have no further comment on this matter and I sincerely would've pulled for the guy even if he didn't play for the Eagles. Now if you want to judge and condemn someone, point your anger at Brett Favre. I wish he'd just STAY retired, stay home and take care of his wife and stop wrecking teams. I guess he can't get enough of himself.

I'm getting a haircut today when I wake up. I think it's time to embrace middle age and just shave it all off. The mop I have now is outdated and a fresh start from scratch is in order. It's a brave move on my part. My dome has more dents and bumps than I can count but I don't care. One day you wake up and you're past 40 years old and you stop caring about trivial shit like your hair. That's me. But hair or not, I'm going to age well too. I'm promising you that much, Sue.

christmas in august

Women can hide their emotions much better than men. Sometimes.

Much like a cat who doesn't land on it's feet, my wife can internally subdue any elevated twinge of excitement and strut away. Except when there's three humongous boxes from Pampered Chef (PC) on the front stoop. Then it turns into a somewhat scaled down version of Oprah's favorite things with Sue immediately pissing her pants and performing naked cartwheels in the front yard all while giving thanks to some kitchen god in a dialect I'd never heard spewing from her mouth. I have video and may post it.

I'd have to say I'm excited too.

Sue hosted a party put together by a friend of ours a couple weeks back. A lot of ladies came out to our small home and bought many of the useful things PC has to offer, much to Sue's benefit. As host, Sue was able to earn free wares and we took advantage.

With this coming from a MAN, you can have the kernel cutter, collapsible strainer, pineapple wedger and stoneware fluted pan. These are all things that will be buried in the cabinets and soon forgotten. What revs my engine are two things that were a long time coming: A salt and pepper mill and some good knives. We still had to shell out some cash for these beauties but we are now able to season and slice whatever we want with style.

take it in and be jealous

Thanks to all who came out and bought. Hopefully we can have another PC party next week. Nah, just joshing you, that's too soon. Is next month OK?

who is this kid?

living in the moment (trying)

Our time in this house is winding down. In a little over 24 hours the keys have to go back. We are going to hit the beach today and then try to pack. I am not a last-minute type of guy. The bulk of the work needs to be squared away tonight so all we have to do is throw the kids in the van tomorrow.

In keeping with tradition, we ate at Fuddrucker's last night. It's something Sue and I have been doing for many years. It's not fast food but it's really easy and we enjoy it.

I did not get to walk on the beach at sunrise at all this week.

Time to seize the day and take in what's left of our time here.

pinch me, am I still here?

Wednesday. Back in the real world Wednesday is hump day; two days to go until the weekend. This Wednesday represents two full days left of sun and fun. That's kind of depressing.

Today we went to the beach again (and got burned) then to the backyard pool again. We've developed a kind of necessary system where people slowly filter into the house to shower and prepare for the evening.

At the beach Sue helped out a poor soul. She reported to us that on her stroll to get Evan to take a nap in the stroller she happened upon a woman who fell asleep sunbathing. This woman had unfastened her bikini top and rolled onto her side while sleeping. I know I don't need to write this but her boobs were hanging out for the beach to see. She woke her up. Good job Sue! I'm sure the surfer dudes in the naked woman's vicinity were highly disappointed with my wife. Tomorrow by the way, I'll be on stroll duty with Evan.

Sue helped Laura go through my mom's personal stuff this afternoon while I took Eric miniature golfing. We had a great time but it was so freaking hot. When we got home Sue showed me she had found my birth certificate, hospital bracelet and passport from when we came home from Germany in 1969. Bittersweet artifacts that I honestly never knew existed.

Tony's turn for dinner. He's grilling some big-ass burgers (with blue cheese built in), hot dogs and odds and ends. I'm sure I'll have to let my belt out a notch once again.

Tomorrow morning, come hell or high tide, I'm on the beach before dawn to pound out a couple barefoot miles, greet Mr. Sun and thank him for a female's need for a string bikini. See you tomorrow.

the good life

The week is flying by. It's hard to believe it's Tuesday already. Sue has been taking a bunch of pics everyday and I need to find the time to put some of those with my words. Very hard to devote any kind of time to anything when you have the devil with dimples, Evan, running around wreaking havoc. He has, though, let me dunk him in the pool without a wimper. And Eric is gaining more confidence in the water also. Today he was in the surf waist-high breaking waves with me. Then we came home and he was jumping off the wall into the pool. We were in the pool ready to catch him but a couple times we let him go. He was very proud of himself. Quite fun to witness.

Sue pulled off her Mexican meal to great reviews last night. I, for one, was really stuffed to the gills. I'm proud of her for pulling it together for so many people. Besides the enchiladas and tacos, she prepared an awesome corn dip and some delicious black beans. Mark whipped up some daiquiris and guacamole. Yes, the toilet got worked.

Tonight is an off night for meal duty and we are all free to do as we please. We are meeting Laura and family down at Barefoot Landing to shop and grab some dinner. Also, we will probably get the kid's portrait done by one of the many airbrush artists that have stands around the shopping area. It's been a tradition every year we have been here since Eric was born. The finished product makes the wall in our basement as a reminder of our family vacations and fun times past.

I started my round of golf with a par today but things quickly deteriorated into a hot sweaty mess. Finished with a score of 100. That sucks if you don't know. Kudos to my brother Mark for fighting through the pain of his repaired Achilles tendon and doing the best he can in our hack-fest.

We witnessed a car accident today on the way to golf where a lady sitting in the lane next to us at a red light got plowed from behind by a guy that may have had too much of something. There was no screech of tires that suggests the guy tried to get on his brakes but just a loud, startling SMASH! that jarred our golf crew awake. We feel very fortunate he wasn't in our lane as there was nobody behind us. Tony, who was driving, acted quickly and alerted authorities and then made sure all involved were ok. The protect and serve portion of his military training really shone through today.

I'm going to try to get up before dawn tomorrow and walk a couple miles on the beach. Witnessing the birth of a new day with the sun rising from the ocean horizon is something to behold. I'll try to put it into words tomorrow.

mad dash

Well we made it to the beach this afternoon but had to hot foot it home after about two hours before a torrential downpour soaked us. We made it high and dry. Eric and I and a couple of the other guests took to the pool at our house during the rains and had a great time. At least the beach stuff didn't get wet today.

Now the sun is blazing and Sue is hard at work preparing tonight's Mexican fiesta meal. Can't wait. Mark went out and stocked up on some stuff to make margaritas. Should be a fun night.

A 7:40 am tee time is set for a round of golf tomorrow morning at Oyster Bay just over the border in North Carolina. Mark, Tony Kyle and I are going to rip it up. Hopefully we get at least three hours sleep.

By the way, we really have to keep an eye on our youngest, Evan. He is having a blast with the sand at the beach and would run into the waves if you let him. No fear. Pics to come soon.

duty calls

It's Sue's turn to make dinner tonight for the four families that are with us on vacation. She has planned a Mexican type theme that hopefully everyone will enjoy. Two varieties, hot and not hot, of enchiladas and tacos. I really enjoy them when we're at home.

My bro Mark made some awesome ribs, corn on the cob and mac and cheese last night that rocked our worlds.

Had some beach time yesterday. The day started out with sun but the weather turned on us and eventually started to pour like I've never seen. Today we have some cloud cover and the weather report doesn't look promising but you never know. Maybe we'll get to the beach again today.

My sis Laura and family from Jacksonville are joining us today. It will be nice to have everyone together once again.

praying for sun

Well, it's vacation time and I have to come clean. Today was my deadline to get to 200 pounds and I failed.

We are staying the night in Chester, VA and even though my last known weight of 204 pounds was yesterday at home I doubt I shed 4 pounds driving 300 miles and stopping at Burger King for lunch and Friendlies for dinner.

Yes, I came up short but I'm still proud. I started something and stuck to it and got some results.

I'm not promising anything but I'm going to try to drop the remaining weight while I'm away. I usually gain ten pounds on vacation but I don't think I will this year. I'll keep you posted.

can I do it?

Well it's the 11h of July and I think an update is in order. My goal of getting to 200 pounds by August 1st is definitely attainable.

I took a week off from the gym because I was fortunate to score some much needed overtime during a two week stretch at the end of June and the beginning of July. I was doing both for awhile but soon burned myself out. So, the OT is now finished and I'm back on the treadmill groovin' with my sweet new iPod Touch.

207 pounds. 14 pounds melted-to-oblivion since June 1st. I'm feeling good, eating well (not starving myself) and working hard.

our princess UPDATE

My brother-in law Adam and sister-in-law Arlynn had to wrap their heads around the news of a rather large tumor in my niece's jawbone. For a week, they knew it was there but had to wait for biopsy results to determine what it actually WAS. They had prepped themselves for the worst...

I am over-the-moon to report in this case we will not be using medical terms like cut, donor bone, reconstruction or wired but will happily and gratefully use these: scrape, less aggressive and less invasive. There have been only 13 documented cases of her tumor since 1992, which her doctors classified as "exotic." According to Arlynn, she goes in on July 23rd and will have her procedure and then spend one night in the hospital.

So, it's good news and A+A and all of us now know it. As a parent, I cannot even begin to imagine what that waiting week was like.

With royal respect, I dub A+A King and Queen Of All That I'd Never Be Able To Handle, bow reverently and hope her procedure destroys and her follow-ups confirm that this thing is gone for good.

our princess

Sometimes I like to share my bitches and moans of daily life here on Bare Witness. Today I received news that makes my problems embarrassingly microscopic. Three very special people in our family are enduring unimaginable times and I want them to know they are not alone.

Not knowing what the next step will be is excruciating. We here in Pennsburg send our love and prayers for strength, hope and peace for the days ahead.

walk over ya

I am tired of banks and the way they operate. Not the hometown banks but some of those are suspect too. The big national coast-to-coast institutions are sticking in my craw. One in particular: Wachovia.

I am trying to get some much needed business done but how can I? They close at 3 pm.

Note to Wachovia:
Go ahead and hold our money with stupid banking hours. Go ahead and take some of that $270 billion payout from the Bush administration and do what you want with it. What did you do with it anyway? Go ahead and charge my mother, who appeared at one of your branches with no hair on her head and a walker, $80 dollars for a missing key to a safety deposit box and some other small bullshit three weeks before her death. You could've at the very least got the door for her when she left. There are fine-print rules and then there is good business. Every once in a while let go of the fine print and just forgive. Also, get some real hours of operation for hard working people who need to get some stuff done that they can't do electronically.

texting with sue

A text I received last night at work from Sue:

Jun 22, 2009 12:28:06 AM
Just went to check on the boys and the cats are licking their red rockets. Gross

Me: Nice

The things people will text when they are deliriously tired.

it was popular - lets try it again

I watched Gran Torino on Thursday night and for awhile I struggled with the ending. What the eff and why? were a couple of my thoughts when the end credits rolled. I guess Clint made a statement in his last acting role that Dirty Harry, this time, didn't need a 44 to take a bunch of thugs down and out of the picture to protect the public. Atonement for his past comes to mind also. Atonement for the Korean War, his family and his bigoted nature. I enjoyed this movie. If you have any thoughts about this film, let's hear them.

Then I watched the new Incredible Hulk with Edward Norton and it turned out to be a mistake to dwarf all mistakes. Somehow I gagged down 99% of this crap until Ironman walked into the bar at the end and talked of some super alliance with a full-haired William Hurt. I don't remember what happened next but Sue says I immediately kicked in the television and was struck with 120 volts of gamma electricity at which point I turned green and grew 9 feet tall at which point I ran out front and started swinging the Taurus like a lasso until Sue informed me I was naked and a certain part of me hadn't hulked up like the rest.

For the record, I liked Ironman.

Thanks for all the comments, reviews and recommendations on my prior post. Keep them coming.

exercising my write to thumb it

I used to consider myself a movie guy. Lately, I'm having trouble getting through most of the latest fare Hollywood 's been feeding us. As I'm getting older, the meter measuring my preference of drama to action is rising. I'd say it currently sits at 5 to 1. The explosions and bullet fire are becoming too much and the techno-laden soundtracks too loud.

During the past couple weeks I found some time to get some movies in. Along with visiting our local Redbox, Sue has been diligent about recording some movies on the DVR before our grace period for Starz, Showtime and HBO runs out. I will be renewing HBO for the long haul because their original shows are just too damn good. TrueBlood being one of them and that starts season two tomorrow night.

Anyways, here's a short list of recently seen films:

Slumdog Millionaire - I realize I am possibly the last person on the planet to have seen it. A heartbreakingly triumphant story where the boy wins the money and gets the impossibly gorgeous girl. While the movie is obviously much more than that, flashbacks tied all the loose ends together perfectly explaining the lead's life and knowledge. From the time his mom was killed when he was very young and all the muck he and his brother had to go through I found myself glued. I even watched the dance at the subway station during the end credits. I need more movies like this one, plus, I don't know why, but I dig subtitles.

Freedom Writers - I am usually wary of Hilary Swank movies (exception: Million Dollar Baby) but Sue asked me to watch it with her after the kids went to bed. I can't say I thoroughly enjoyed this movie but it definitely did open my eyes to the plight of minorities and gang violence and I must give it a favorable review. Hilary plays a teacher who learns that most of the kids in her class don't expect to live to graduation because of gang wars and the color of their skin. The movie depicts an LA in the early nighties where the Mexicans, Blacks and Chinese shoot each other on sight for respect and to protect their own. Hilary asks them to write in a diary and somehow ties their plight with Hitler's campaign against the Jews. I suppose the movie was a history lesson for me but I was disappointed in the end when everyone got along, but I guess this is the only way this movie could've ended.

Twilight - I couldn't finish this movie. Possibly the worst movie of all time. I have to report that I've read the book and this movie takes the wishy-washiness of Bella and the vampire Edward's teen love and angst ten times further than the book did. As penance for choking down 75% of this crap movie, I punched myself in the face 75 times. I will also mail cat shit to the studio heads of this production with explicit directions to smear it in their own faces and eat it.

Hotel For Dogs - Eric loved it. Not me. Note to Don Cheadle: Don't you ever do a movie like this again. Ever. How could you agree to do a movie after reading a script that says you will be reading the names of dogs who then appear and sit and bark at the end!? And then adopt the kids? Garbage. I want my money back. So I can buy it for Eric.

Milk - I had a semi-hard time with all the openly graphic man-love going on but found this movie satisfying errr, uh good. True story.

Harold and Kumar 2 Escape From Guantanamo Bay - The guys smoke weed with President Bush. I don't know why but I liked this movie.

Movies on the queue:

The Visitor - Don't know the long and short of it but Sue says I need to see it.

Let The Right One In - Movie about a young boy who befriends a young girl. And she's a vampire. Subtitled.

If anyone has anything to add to my reviews or recommendations I can pick up at Redbox and watch this month, I'd appreciate it greatly.

adrian! i love you rocky! adrian! i love you rocky!

After fielding thousands of comments doubting the reality of my plans to get to 200 pounds by August 1st, I have decided to respond to one of these non-believers.

This fan cited Dolph Lundgren in Rocky 4 (IV, eye vee) with the fact that muscle weighs more than blubber. I agree 100%. But, you see, when I visited my physician for the all important disclaimer of please visit your physician before starting any exercise regimen they found my cell structure to be 98% barbecue potato chip and 2% Coke Zero. I know you see where I'm going but I will expound further.

Dolph laid waste to Apollo Creed because he was 6'6" and 260 pounds of pure muscle. His pure muscle was a product of 1) eating metal and aluminum siding (iron does a body good) and 2) working out by lifting cars, buildings and Brigitte Nielsen. If Apollo Creed knew these facts, he wouldn't have been so cocky I'm sure.

The argument I'm about to present to the jury about my case is simple. I'm a 6'2" (now 218 pounds!) sack of potatoes (literally) who is involved in a cardio-intensive workout plan. The bulk of my plan is the treadmill, where I walk at an ever increasing speed with a 4.6% incline for 45 minutes. Unlike Dolph, who lifts bulldozers and buses for building mass, I do my work with 20 pound free weights for tone. I don't need or want to look like a body builder. I want to be fit. In addition to my exercise plan, I am working to replace the chips and Coke with unprocessed, natural foods and water. I am drinking so much water at this point that I'm thinking about donning a diaper so I don't have to get up and do my business 17 times during sleeping hours. I am confident this weight will fall off or melt away. Change.

Before I am convicted of grand douchebaggery by the jury, I hope I have clarified my weight loss endeavor enough to make the non-believers believe. All doubters are fuel for the fire, baby.

I will loop the awesome instumental soundtrack of the Rocky films during my treadmill sessions as a dedication to Rocky Balboa, a man who demonstrated that you need not move mountains or lift buildings to slay your demons (or that nasty Russian-Swede Ivan Drago). Sometimes you have to chase chickens and have the heart to believe.

damn it part 2

Although the fifteen days I just spent away from work was not considered a vacation, I got used to not being there. It will be hard to go back tonight and resume my title as press crew leader and provider for my family. While I know my family needs me, I'm hoping my crew hadn't learned to exist without me.

I've seen it happen before. Ask Sue.

damn it

After all the big talk of Friday's post I have managed to break my string of consecutive gym visits. Even though I used my time to play in a cancer benefit golf tournament on Saturday I have no excuses for today.

I guess golf can be considered exercise and it helps to know I've minded what I've put in my mouth.

My punishment: A deadline. 200 pounds by August 1, 2009 or I will throw myself off the Pennsburg Pier into The Great Pennsburg Ocean after I grow a handlebar mustache and buy billboard time for candid pics of my own very large birthmark.

It is written.

you gotta walk b4 u run... again

Middle age and recent events in my life have made me take inventory of things I need to change about myself. Waking up in the morning and rolling out of bed with aches and pains is not an option anymore. Even though I'm not disappointed by what I see in the mirror, I know my 220 pounds could be 200 and my chest, back and shoulders could be broader. Screw arms. Arms will follow the other stuff.

Many a gay gentleman have told me they wouldn't change a thing about my appearance and my narcissistic nature appreciates that (I'm not gay, father of two, married to a woman etc). Even though I'm drop-dead gorgeous, I have decided that putting some effort into change could be fun and this week my new endeavor has turned into an addiction.

Going to the gym and seeing the same familiar faces everyday provides me with the motivation I need. I see the ladies from Sue's club, huffing and puffing on a treadmill, performing a healthy exorcism of their demons or last night's half cookie. Whatever their reasons for change, they are there and doing something about it. I will change too.

This week, for the first time in history, I have been to the gym five straight days and walk/ran 2-2.5 miles each day on the treadmill. I followed that with some iron pumping and sit-ups. Not much, but enough to notice a change in how I feel and the way my shorts fit.

I will be going back tomorrow and the day after. Can't stop now. Even though my goal is 200 pounds, maybe I can get to 190. Maybe I'll be fit enough to bang out 25 pull-ups or dunk a basketball again or run a 5k and compete. Or maybe I'll gain the stamina to chase my small boys around after a hard day's work. All realistic goals that can be attained. 40 be damned.

I am well on my way. I am the star of my own Biggest Loser show and come hell or high water, I'll get there.

three day weekend

In light of this past weekend's event of the loss of my mother I wanted to offer a couple thoughts about today's holiday, Memorial Day.

Even though my mom wasn't a soldier who gave all she was the traveling, pregnant wife of an active soldier in the Vietnam War. I was born in an army hospital in Frankfurt, Germany and remained in Germany with her for two months until we both came home. After 40 years, I recognize now that my mom gave birth to me, her firstborn, and she wasn't surrounded by or visited by any friends or family for two months. There is some measure of sacrifice here and I'm including it in today's holiday festivities. If this is something I should've brought up this upcoming Veteran's Day, sue me. My next thought...

Freedom isn't free... somebody paid. And that somebody might've been your neighbor or your relative or a father of three or a mother of four or the Homecoming Queen or the high school track star or an NFL player or an inner city youth or a country bumpkin. Or it may have simply been your son, daughter, father or mother.

A simple definition of the word sacrifice is forfeiture of something highly valued for the sake of one considered to have a greater value or claim. The strength to lead, give or take and then execute a fateful order where the outcome knowingly is not good is something I can't fathom. For whatever reasons that led them to their decisions to serve I am sure they didn't plan on dying but knew it was a possibilty. It's a shame there is only one day on the calendar for these brave people.

I hope you join me this week in honoring and thanking the fallen who provided or defended our liberties and paid the ultimate price for what we enjoy and mostly take for granted. These heroes sacrificed their own posterity so we can live on in freedom.

she out-swam the boys in high school

Mom, your kids turned out alright and we will be fine going forward. Your pain and suffering is now gone so please rest in peace and don't worry about a thing. We will take care of everything. I will celebrate your life every time I jump in a pool or stand on a beach. Thanks for your gifts of athleticism and work ethic. Thanks for taking over my newspaper route when I was 12 and I was blowing all my earnings at the 7-11 arcade. Thanks for life lessons learned; intentional or not. Thank you for the gifts of Mark and Laura and everything you've ever done for us. Thanks for letting me win when we played Candyland and the MatchBox cars in my stocking at Christmas. And, last but not least, thanks for telling me I was good-looking at my wedding.

Linda May
Mom and Grandmom
9/13/1948 - 5/21/2009

the grass is definitely green(er)

It's hard to believe but Eric has completed his first year of pre-school. On his own for three hours a day twice a week really helped him grow into a fine young man. I could go on and on about all areas of his advancement but I will just say that Sue and I couldn't be prouder. Another stellar report card sealed the deal for a trip to the Lehigh Valley Zoo with friends.

In other news, my mom had brain surgery to remove a tumor that had developed there during her bout with lung cancer. The thumbnail sized tumor was completely removed and she was released from the hospital after a four-day stay. She is continuing radiation and her doctor says she will be cancer free before too long. At sixty years-old, we hope she can get back to her normal life and enjoy all it has to offer.

thoughts with no rhythm

I'm alone and I need to write.

If someone were to approach me in the future and offer me a million dollars to relive this weekend so far I'd have to hurt them.

A character flaw in my DNA needs to find the levity or fun in very serious situations and this weekend has been a satire of sorts indeed.

This flaw can be annoying to others and I have worked to suppress it with little success but I realize it has kept me from folding like a lawn chair during intense situations.

There was nothing fun with the news that came forth at about 5:30 on Friday night.

I am glad and thankful to know I am human.

Distance blurs communication.

Pending updates via phone are difficult to wait for.

Sue - you are the best.

I am thankful for Mark. A strong voice of reason.

I am thankful for Laura. A speedy traveler.

Kyle Bergin - you are the man.

Janet - your email worked wonders.

our first crop is down in the ground, baby!

Today we roped off our square foot garden into 21" x 19" blocks. I know this measurement isn't a square foot so please spare me any corrections from the millions of square foot gardening purists who read me.

According to the gardening calendar, peas and onions can go in now... so in they went. This has been a very satisfying quest thus far and I cannot even imagine what it will feel like when these crops come to fruition and I'm plucking sugar snap peas right off the vine and eating them... in my own backyard!

Any tips and/or advice is greatly appreciated. We've been researching online but welcome testimony as to what works and what doesn't. Stuff like what crops shouldn't go next to each other and so on.

Question: A guy at work told me he planted hot peppers next to tomatoes and the tomatoes came up spicy. Is this bull**** or what?






Oh don't you worry little onions, your neighbors are on their way.

let's get organic

The raised garden I planned, researched and built is finished. It was a lot more work than I thought it was going to be. Good thing I had my handy little garden expert Eric to help me. Sue is now an official "square foot gardener." Have fun Sue!

all night security

Here we go again.

Everyone's in bed.
I can't sleep.
Because I'm working nights this month.
And I can't sleep at night when I'm off from work.

So I'll be security tonight.
On watch.
For monsters.
For criminals.

Going to find something quiet to do.

Maybe I'll pay some bills at the kitchen table.
Don't have many.
Paid most of them last night.

Maybe I'll watch some movies.
Mostly just the ends of movies.
Finish one, flip the channel.
This one looks good.
But it's halfway through.
Watch it, flip. Watch it, flip.

I'm not with society right now.
12 hours behind everyone.

The cats are in their place.
Rex on the couch.
Thor on the red chair.
Rex is snoring loudly.
Just like last night.

Maybe I'll get on the computer.
To do a search.
I have to find some stuff.
To finish the raised garden tomorrow.
For my wife.

Maybe I'll be lost in thought.
About productive daylight.
Or knowing my kids.
Or watching them grow.
Or giving Sue a hand.
With her daily job.

It's a grind.
This all night security gig.
The hours are long.
The hours are lonely.
The hours are hard.

It is my job.

And I love it.

never ever do this

I am begging you to never ever play I SPY with a hopped-up four year old at night in a car. There are many other things a family can do for entertainment. Obviously I SPY was a big mistake on my part and I rank it after ripping one's own fingernails out with pliers on the enjoyment meter.

Happy Passover and Happy Easter to all.

1st real haircut

Eric sat in a barber's chair for the first time when he turned one. He screamed bloody murder. Our youngest, Evan, didn't make it there until 17 months (besides a bangs trim here and there). He was very patient and didn't mind it one bit.

Sue had a hard time letting go of Evan's beautiful curly mullet. I on the other hand could no longer deal with strangers referring to Evan as "her" or "she." Something had to be done for the sake of manhood. Here you go:

what a sucka I am

Well fans, it appears I've been duped. What I thought was a good move (dumping Comcast) turns out to be quite the contrary. Unless you look at the money saving part. That part of the deal is still intact.

I am only half happy now unlike yesterday when I was stupiridiculously happy.

I did not get what I wanted. The DirectTV salesperson (let's not be shy about it) LIED to my ear (we were on the phone).

One frickin' channel. That's all I cared about.

I don't care about:

• Comcast Sportsnet Bay Area
• Comcast Sportsnet Chicago
• Comcast Sportsnet New England
• Comcast Sportsnet New York
• Comcast Sportsnet Mid-Atlantic (Washington DC)

I do care about: Comcast Sportsnet Philly

Boy, I screwed up real bad.

Note to Comcast Sportsnet Philly:

I'm sorry I left you. What a fool I am! I will return I promise. Please do what you can to let the Phillies and Sixers and Flyers have awesome championship seasons. I will be watching from afar, mostly on the 11pm news highlights. I will come back to you and never let go again, after my effing 2 year agreement with DirectTV is up and I rip this dog-humping hunk of metal off the side of my house. I am sending my love, to keep you warm and snuggly.

Joe

Later today DirectTV is getting a phone call. Lock your doors and windows. It's gonna get ugly.

for love OF wallet

I'm happy at this moment. There is a brand spanking new DirectTV dish being attached to the side of my house right now. It's kind of sexy.

I am keeping comcast internet service but have decided to drop cable TV. Comcast makes me mad on many levels. First of all, I am sick and tired of sending them over two benjamins a month for, in my honest opinion, a subpar channel selection and internet that isn't even close to speeds that they advertise. Secondly, they docked their key employees, people I like to call "runts" (the technicians) a 100 bucks a paycheck. All this coupled with the fact that they have the tallest, most obscene brand new skyscraper dominating the Philly skyline makes me really ill. I will keep the internet as a gesture of good will towards the many technicians (runts)I've had visit my house to fix a problem or install equipment. These people always performed service with a smile and treated my home with respect.

This is a leap of faith on my part. I have heard horror stories about DirectTV. But, in the end a change was in order and change is sometimes tough. With savings of $100 a month I think I'll live. I'll keep you posted.

earning my wings

A new counter is running on the site. It says countdown to Tampa but it might as well read countdown to complete nervous breakdown or countdown to massive involuntary bowel movement episode. A group of regulars, including myself, are going on our annual get-outta-Dodge golf trip. And we are flying. In a plane.

I am not a big fan of flying.

My wife is growing tired of my daily questions:
Sue? Am I going to be alright? Yes Joe, you'll be fine.
Sue? You don't mind flying, right? No Joe. I don't mind flying. You'll be fine.
Sue? The maintenance guys are going to tighten all the nuts and bolts, right? Yes Joe, they are the best mechanical guys around. They don't let those birds off the ground unless those bolts are torqued to specification. You'll be fine.

I hate when people say air travel is much safer than getting in your car. Phooey. In my book, if the unspeakable happens in a car, it is much better than the realization of your impending doom while nosediving for 3 minutes from 30,000 feet. Excuse me? Do you have any paper? I need to chicken scratch a message to my family.

I've flown before or maybe I didn't; I'll explain later. I'll admit, when we are cruising on the runway and the engines are thrown to full power for lift-off, it's a thrilling and powerful experience. But what I hate the most is the initial almost vertical climb to altitude. You see, in my head, flying completely disregards logic. How can a 500 ton piece of metal even get off the ground? And then sustain flight? It's magic, I'm tellin' ya. Smoke and mirrors. That's not jet-lag you feel after a flight, thats the feeling of all your body's cells getting glued back together after getting warped Star Trek style from one place to another. And I don't want to hear about your Mile High Club experience. That was simply a wet-dream warp proven by the best conspiracy theorists the world has to offer. Also, please don't try to explain the physics behind this magic. Lift, drag and rotation is helicopters. I'm no dummy. Thrust? Suuuure. I also find it offensive when a plane goes down and all the expert investigators are scratching their heads as to why. I know why. It's because flying is illogical. If mankind was meant to fly we would've been born with yada yada yada.

Driving to Tampa would be a 20-22 hour trip. Flying is about two. That's a big time difference. When I committed to flying with our golf group, I didn't give it much thought. Now I think about it everyday. Before my flight I think I'll indulge in a little self-medication at the airport lounge. Or maybe I'll have my brother Mark shoot me with a rhinoceros tranquilizer gun in the parking lot. Or maybe I shouldn't do any of these things. I need to retain my status as the cool old guy within my circle of golf trip buddies. I have to keep it together on that illogically large airborne cylindrical tube of uncertainty because I don't want to be the butt of jokes for years to come. I'm just wondering but do you think they'll notice if I'm wearing a Depends?

Uh Sue? Why don't they make planes with tops that pop open and seats that eject with parachutes in cases of extreme emergency? For the love of God Joe! Grow a sack and get on the damn plane!

Ok Sue. You got it. I'll do my best because I'm a big boy and I wear big boy pants. But if anyone reading this sees me at the grocery store on May 5th buying adult diapers, keep me in your thoughts and keep the diaper thing to yourself. On a wing and a prayer, I'll return. Hopefully.

two weeks of heaven

We now interrupt your regularly scheduled prime time programming (and some afternoon soap opera time) for the absolute greatest event in sports. I'm talking about The NCAA Basketball Tournament. If you're looking for soul-stirring drama where David has the chance to take down Goliath, look no further.

So sit down, crack a beer and enjoy March Madness with me. You'll love it!

A taste: buzzer beater!

crazy legs

Eric, I.. am your.... father

I'd like to revisit a theme I used from my very first blog post over a month ago. I had talked about "significant moments" that we as dads experience from time to time when dealing with our kids. These moments of significance happen to us all. I'm not sure we as parents recognize all of them; some may fall through the cracks without any reflection whatsoever. Well one happened last night. The gravity of the moment was simple in nature, but the significance of it empowered me with the will to go toe-to-toe with Mike Tyson in a 12 round title bout. Maybe we can scale that back a bit. Let's say tickle contest.

I will try to set the scene best I can.

Sue usually puts Eric to bed and reads a book or two before he drifts off. Evan, our youngest wasn't feeling the whole bedtime vibe at that moment and was being especially difficult so Sue thankfully opted to deal with him instead. So I was last night's book reader.

Walter the Baker was the choice and I found myself enthralled by the story. It's just a story about a baker and an unreasonable king who was really ticked off at the baker because the baker's cat spilled the baker's milk so he had to make the king rolls with water instead of milk and the king wanted to throw him out of town because the rolls sucked but the baker pleaded and the king relented and issued a challenge to come up with the most ridiculously awesome roll by tomorrow or else so the baker accidentally invented pretzels and the king loved them so they all partied in the street like mardi-gras with beads and alcohol and wet white t-shirts. The only thing Eric cared about is why the king had a dog.

When I read Eric bed time books I lay in bed with him flat on my back with the book on my chest. Eric snuggles next to me with his head on my shoulder. When the book was done there was a moment of silence but I didn't look his way for fear of jarring him awake in case he was already asleep. I let another minute pass and gave him a glance. I was surprised to see him staring blankly into my eyes. I softly said "Night night I love you buddy" and his eyes slowly closed while he replied "I love you too, daddy" and he was out like a light, cuttin' logs.

I am finding it hard to describe how I felt at that moment. I mean everybody's kids tell them they love them. There was just some kind of significance there that I immediately recognized and will cherish probably forever. A confirmation or affirmation that I am dad and he feels safe and secure.

I'd like to re-neg on the whole Mike Tyson bit. I would easily win a tickle contest. Did you ever see Castaway? With Tom Hanks? There is a part in that movie where Tom struggles to make fire. Finally after many cold nights with no success and on the verge of giving up, he does it. The euphoria and gratitude for warmth Tom displays is probably the best comparison to how I felt when I got up from Eric's bed.

Paid in full, Eric. Sweet dreams.

(click here if your memory is fuzzy for re-enactment of Castaway scene I found on youtube.)

good news from the carpe diem department

Last week, my brother and I took a trip to see mom in South Carolina. It was planned as an intervention of sorts after we caught wind that mom, who was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer last year, was still smoking. We just wanted to remind her that there's a lot to try and live for since our calls and emails haven't been replied to for quite some time. The last time we saw her in August she was in bad shape with all the chemo and radiation treatments she was going through. We didn't know what to expect or how we were going to be received.

I am happy to report that there were no cigarettes present for the three days we were there. And she looked good too! Last summer she couldn't eat much because her throat burned when she swallowed. That's gone now and her hair and weight are coming back strong.

The really good news came when the phone rang this morning and it was her saying her latest pet scan shows the cancer is all but gone and she is being released from most of her treatments.

I know it's hard to give up a 40 year habit. I am very proud of her strength and hopefully her commitment to stay clear of cigarettes and ultimately be lung cancer free.





Mom pretending to look for shells but actually prowling for studs.

just so I know that you know

Writing posts in a blog is therapeutic. I say therapeutic because there have been many events in the past couple of weeks that have steered my innards in every emotional direction and a little keyboard therapy never hurt anyone. I enjoy the naked translation of turning my thoughts or feelings into words so my audience or followers can understand who I am. Doing this has helped me better understand who I am. I recognize I have a lot to say; I just can't say it. I always thinked I speaked english goodly but I'm constantly at a loss for words when I open my mouth, even if Sue in one way or another tells me to shut-up ten times a day. I am much more comfortable when I write and I'm truly appreciative of the compliments and encouragement to continue that I've received. Thank you from a guy who failed English his senior year in high school.

I am touching base since it's been over two weeks since my last post. Over the next couple days I will expound further about those events that have twisted my innards.

This therapy session is now out of time. Thanks for reading and see you next session.

I can't shake this one...

I read somewhere today that India, an up-and-coming economic superpower, has a major health crisis on it's hands. Of the country's 200 million plus households, only half have toilets. Many deficate openly on the street, in rain water drains, in farmer's crops and even in rivers and creeks.

Cancel that trip to bathe in the Ganges and if you go anyway: DO NOT drink the water.

*click here*

did you see this coming Mr. Gutenberg*?

I realize there are people and families in a far worse situation. Some people in the American workforce have taken pay cuts and restructured their benefit package while sadly some people have lost their jobs and in the end, their means. Truth is, it's not bad for my family because I am still employed and am able to pay the bills. All I have is the fear of losing my job. It's not the fear of losing my job due to bad performance but losing it because society in these new digital times has no use for my product anymore. Where I work, management is starting to take from us to try and meet or exceed budgeted numbers that they themselves presented to their bosses last year. Our six press operation is now a five press operation and 24 souls have been demoted or re-assigned to other areas. I understand. Management never saw this economic storm coming. I remain mostly untouched and feel very fortunate.

The nationwide printing scene is not too healthy right now. With the economy the way it is advertisers are just not investing in print media. Unfortunately, I am a printer. Some say printing is a dying trade. Fortunately, I don't think so. In my 19 years of printing, our industry has been through several rough economic periods and we have always come out on the other side with the sun blazing and our futures bright. Although we have never seen anything of this magnitude before I have no choice but to stay positive and do my part as a company man because the alternative scares last night's dinner out of me.

Something I'll never forget is a conversation I had with our company's VP of Operations 19 years ago concerning the future of the printed word and how long it will last. He told me about a similar conversation he had with a person ten years prior. The person told him that gas-burning engines will be obsolete by 1990. When the VP finished telling me his story he gave me one of those fake 'attaboy' punches to my shoulder, confidently flashed a smirky smile and walked away. I think he winked at me too. Well guess what? In 2008 ExxonMobil made more money than God herself. This, my friends, is my only source of comfort and inner peace. Ok, maybe your wondering what the hell I'm talking about. I suppose I'm trying to convey that there has to be a tomorrow and I must believe in it, whatever it holds. Great. I am now getting cloudy about what I'm trying to say. Hopefully I made my point. (Note: I am currently auditioning new inspirational thought patterns to deal with everyday anxiety. If you got 'em, let's hear 'em. All drugs, pharmaceutical or illegal will be returned to sender. Maybe.)

In the end, do my industry brothers and sisters and most importantly me a favor. Don't take your digital readers, laptops or cell phones into the bathroom when you know the stay will be longer than usual. Take a magazine, newspaper or book with you instead. It's more sanitary and a great save if you're out of toilet paper. Just don't loan me the book later.


*RIP Johannes Gutenberg 1398 - 1468


If anyone actually reads this:
The first one to decode the secret message I have in this post wins five McDonald's dollars. The answer involves how my family is managing day-to-day operations. The ideology of this code will be suspended in early May when I fly to Tampa to participate in a much needed although money igniting golf trip.

his dinner conversation is priceless

Thor waiting patiently for his plate but reaching

his limit.

doing what we can

Eric and I picked up trash across the street today. There are no houses, just some swampland and a lot of over-grown plants with thorns. The whole area is a filter for trash and the occasional moron who never bought into the Give a Hoot: Don't Pollute slogan.

Eric is a real gamer when it comes to helping me and he really goes above and beyond to please. Maybe we can take our civic duty campaign to another level in the future.







"Uh, daddy? How do I get out of here?"

I have a problem

I am addicted to hitting the "next blog" button at the top. The randomness of where it takes you is interesting.

You're probably thinking I should paint a wall or check the air in my tires or even play with my kids. Thanks a lot. Now I'm feeling guilty.

nice days in winter are good for...

...doing a number on the grass. My oldest son thinks he has freedoms that a stellar report card may provide. I assured him bare-butt exhibitionism and urinary landscaping are not part of said freedoms.

Surprise! Happy Birthday!

No question, some critical elements need to transpire in order to have a successful "surprise" birthday party. Commitment from the participants and innocent ignorance from the honoree are two big ones. I am happy to report these elements aligned themselves perfectly on Feb. 7th on my father-in-law's birthday.

Presents of chocolate cigars, jigsaw puzzles, a marinade book and music were graciously accepted but I am sure having everyone there unexpectedly was the best gift of all. The payoff for the organizers was the reaction. And the reaction was priceless.

Thanks to all that could make it for the miles traveled and all the delicious food prepared.




Happy Birthday Dad, Zaida, Jules!