Category: Uncategorized (Page 75 of 96)

Last night I skipped the gym so I could meet Megan before she finished work at her new job. I knew she was just finishing, but as the clock approached 6, I hoped to surprise her even if only to see her for a couple minutes. She had morphed into a customer by the time I arrived and was enjoying a teriaki steak sandwich that the beautiful young woman from the previous shift had made her. She looked so happy. Life seems good for my girl right now and I’m so proud of how she’s grown. The gym will always be there. These moments… well, you never know. I just don’t want to miss any.

Recently Jeff asked a question in response to the US air strike that killed Al Qaeda terrorist Abu Musab al-Zarqawi: “What the hell is the point of all this?” There are a number of possible answers to this far reaching question, including:

• There’s oil in them there hills, Dubya!
• We’re Imperialists who will take advantage of any third world country’s resources because we can
• They hit us first
• al-Zarqawi was a cold-blooded killer who deserved it
• War is good for the American economy… Always has been
• They’re gonna kill us unless we kill them first
• We’re humans and we’ve been fighting since the beginning of time

That last one really struck me when I was touring the Chicago Art Institute yesterday. A couple times as I was maneuvering around to see all I wanted to see, I happened to walk through a long section filled primarily with medieval body armor. Rows and rows of it. Point is, we’ve been at war forever (well, some evidence suggests since 35,000BC) and probably will as long as humans exist. We’re flawed. We’ll try to talk it out for a while, but then we get to a point when the sticks and stones start flying. I don’t have an answer except to say that if we teach our children to treat each other with mutual respect, resolve conflict peacefully and embrace the differences in people and their beliefs, then maybe in 35,006 our descendants will have evolved enough to have figured it out.

A couple weeks ago I wrote about how my friend Barb had chastised me about missing out on a “window into our culture” by not listening to radio. Well, two things. First, the FM in my car doesn’t work, so I’m limited to CD’s and AM. Second, I get so much great music from Dave and Jeffro, why should I listen to the crap on the radio? Anyway… I’m now at Dave’s place in St. Charles, IL, but over the past couple days, I have been on the road between Chicago and Milwaukee and have tuned in. Wow. Barb was right. There is something about spinning the dial and hearing what’s playing and what’s saying. The DJ’s were a trip. One favorite moment was when a hip-hop DJ did a big hip-hop slang intro for the traffic guy who could not have been more white and vanilla. It kinda ended with “So wha’s sup, man? Well, Diddy, there’s about a 3 mile backup…” What a hilarious transition!

The trip North on I94 is pretty boring, but a couple highlights include the picture here which speaks for itself and the “Mars Cheese Castle.” Oh, how I wish I could have stopped in there… So, the music. I was all over the dial from NPR to Jazz to a healthy selection of God talk… Christian God talk, of course. Some of the musical highlights included:

• Sounds of Silence – Simon & Garfunkel
• With or Without You – U2
• Here I Am (Come and Take Me) – Al Green
• Signed, Sealed, Delivered – I’m Yours! – Stevie Wonder
• Some Hip Hop Songs I don’t know but had me rockin like the guys in the AVIS commercial
• Can’t You See – Marshall Tucker Band
• WXRT 93.1 – Chicago
• An AC/DC “Twofer:” Girls Got Rhythm and Honey, Whaddaya do for Money?
• Band of Gold – Freda Payne
• Bennie and the Jets – Elton John
• Slip in to my Sleeping Bag – ZZ Top
• 92.9, “The Hog” in Milwaukee
• A little Mozart
• Bullet With Butterfly Wings – Smashing Pumpkins

Yeah, it was a magical mystery tour up and down I94… Up in Milwaukee, actually Waukesha, I was holed up at the Country Springs Hotel while Southern Wisconsin was under a tornado warning. Down in the pub, I discovered they had a selection of 100 bottled beers on tap! I mean, if you’ve got to suffer through a tornado warning, it’s cool to be in a place with 100 beers. I went local with 3 from the New Glarus Brewing Company:

1. Spotted Cow
2. Fat Squirrel
3. Totally Naked

Yep, and that’s a good way to end any night.

Pal Jeffro just blogged on the auto industry a bit and prompted me to begin what should be a long and excruciating process to buy a new car. Well, new for me. I think I’m done buying “new” new. First though, let’s stroll down the memory lane of my personal car history.

It was a dark and stormy night… no, wait, that’s how my first novel will begin. Sometime in the summer of 1975, my mom passed down one sweet ride in this 1968 Plymouth Belvedere Convertible. It was a hunter green with the exception of the left front fender which was white. That summer I installed a Jensen AM/FM 8-track player with 4 speakers. Yeah, it was as cool as you’re imagining right now. That fall, while parked at Wakefield High School, Tommy Perry*, a bully Senior slashed 2 tires and the convertible roof. I was so bummed until I discovered the beauty of insurance. A couple weeks later, I had a brand new rag-top… sweet! One still fond memory of that time was driving with my high-school sweetheart up the coast on the North shore near Gloucester. I had repaired the roof with some duct tape, but wind and rain had their way and it began to leak on us. We didn’t care. Unfortunately, the old Belvedere succumbed to a failed transmission and off to the junkyard it went. Yeah, bad move, Mom. Someone probably still has that beauty today.

Ah, maybe the first is always the best, but in any event, here’s the um, rest…

• 1968 Chevy Impala – It was red and boring.
• 1970 Ford Mustang – Commuted to Boston in this 427 “Cleveland” engine equipped speedster. That is, until the water pump fell forward, pushing the fan into the radiator, pushing tiny fragments of the radiator all over my windshield and Route 93 North.
• into the radiator and
• 1974 Mazda RX3 – Drove it once, then let my brother use it… Once.
• 1974 VW Rabbit – Worst piece of crap I’ve ever owned or driven.
• 1986 Subaru GL (236K) – My first new car. About 20 minutes into my ownership, I attempted a demonstration of the rear wiper blade which proceeded to fall off and scrape the paint… That sucked.
• 1996 Volvo 850 Turbo LE (202K) – Purchased in 1999 with 42K on it. If she plays her cards right, Megan may be driving it soon.
• 2006… I love the Infinity FX35. In black, it looks like the freakin’ awesome Batmobile from “Batman Begins,” but with gas heading nowhere but North, I’m leaning toward a vintage 2004 Acura TL.

* I got even with Mr. Perry a few months later in a school floor hockey game when I slammed him through the gymnasium doors, through the hallway and into some lockers. He didn’t get up for a while. It was very Terry O’Rielly. I still can’t believe I got a major penalty for that one…

I’m going to see Dave this week and I’m pretty psyched. We’ve been friends now for over ten years and the guy has brought music, laughs and a lot of perspective to my life. Every week I get a couple emails from Dave listing all the new music he’s got and willing to share. Yep. Sharing the love through music. I think Dave lives to do that and I couldn’t be more serious. Just now I clicked over to his myspace page and got blown away once again from hearing a song from Dave. This time it was “Winners and Losers” by Social Distortion. I guess I’ll be getting more of their stuff. Thanks man.

What the hell does that mean? It’s a lyric from “Greedy Fly” by Bush. I like Bush. I have about four or five of their songs in my noPod for the gym. Um… I really have absolutely nothing to write about. I could write “the rest of the story” in response to Jeff’s June 2 treatise on the Tar Hut years, but suffice to say our collective thoughts about what would happen at Herb’s house in order for us to get money from him were basically homophobic in nature and involved gay sailors. The whole Herb pool thing was whipped up into something like this. We were, and remain, simpletons.

Sunday with Mackenzie was a good day. After some dinner at Nana’s and shooting a few hoops with her “Cinderella” ball, it was off to the ice cream place. She worked her kiddie cone chocolate chip cookie dough like a squirrel enjoying their first acorn of the season. She carefully prevented any drippage as she systematically chipped away at the sugar cone with her little teeth. Not “baby teeth,” mind you, she’s a “big girl.” She and Auntie Megan engaged in some girl talk as they devoured their screams on the sun drenched picnic table. Meanwhile, Kyle sat silently attempting to extract all ice cream from his cone with his tongue. I think there may have been a Gene Simmons comment, but he ignored it and dutifully kept at his task.

Earlier at dinner, there was a brief exchange between Kenzie and her Uncle Kyle. I mentioned something about Jessica playing softball when she was young. Even though her mom’s not around, Mackenzie still likes to hear about her. Kyle is pretty upset with his sister and said, “I can’t stand Jessica.” Now if Jessica were to have walked in the house at that moment, Kyle would have been quickly loving her, but as it is, he struggles with his emotions on the whole thing. I said something like “you don’t mean that… that’s your sister.” He responded with a “not anymore!” Everyone was quiet for a few seconds, but then carried on with passing food and pouring drinks. Well, all except the little one. She looked up at her uncle with her big brown eyes and said softly and very matter of factly, “She didn’t do anything to you.” No one heard it but me and Kyle didn’t react. With all she’s been through, this child of four is still fighting for her mom. I’m going to send this little story to my daughter Jessica. Maybe it will help her to fight on for just a minute or an hour or a day so that Mackenzie’s efforts will not be in vain.

I am looking forward. A few years back I was browsing an art book when I turned the page to this image.

I liked it and noted the caption identified its home as the Art Institute of Chicago. The painting is Paris Street; Rainy Day by Gustave Caillebotte.

Next week, on Friday, June 9, after customer presentations in Milwaukee and Chicago, I’ll take a vacation day to see this expression of imagination and many others including:

René Magritte – Time Transfixed
Georges Seurat – A Sunday on La Grande Jatte
Édouard Manet – The Races at Longchamp
Edward Hopper – Nighthawks
Salvador Dal? – Inventions of the Monsters
Lyonel Feininger – Village Street
Marc Chagall – America Windows

ABC’s Brent Musburger made some idiotic comments today before the Indy 500. He said we shouldn’t forget we’re at war so that we can all enjoy events like the Indianapolis 500… Yeah Brent, we’re in Iraq so they can fuel the damn cars…

While most Americans celebrate the holiday by going to parades, holding cookouts and drinking excessively in the late spring heat, some poor FBI agents are digging for Jimmy Hoffa at a farm in Michigan. I hope someone brings them dogs and beers…

I miss the NBA and NHL playoffs. I know they’re ongoing, but without the C’s and the B’s in them, it’s just not the same. I long for those Memorial Day weekend triple headers of C’s, B’s and Sox playing on the same day. I wonder when that will happen again. Oh, and Dwyane Wade is the real deal.

We’re almost 1/3 through the marathon that is the Major League Baseball season and I don’t know what we’ve got with the Red Sox. The pitching has been solid as expected, and the defense better, but the lineup does struggle on occasion to score runs. So far, the biggest surprise has been Mike Lowell (.326, 22 doubles and 29 rbi) and the biggest disappointment Jason Varitek (.232 and only 3 more homers than Josh Beckett). I love his game, but .232 is lame.

It’s sad because of the guys immense talent, but because Barry Bonds is perceived as he is, all his accomplishments in baseball will be shadowed by an asterisk. Today Mr. Bonds passed George Herman Ruth with number 715*, but he’ll never, ever, be looked upon with the reverence of the Babe.

Kyle has had a tough “coming of age” long weekend. First, and it was a first for him, a waitress spilled 15 of my 16oz beer on him during dinner. Right in his lap. Based on the look on his face, it wasn’t “the pause that refreshes.” Second, yesterday he tripped on a pair of shoes (not mentioning any names…) left in the living room, and fell against an end table resulting in his first fat lip. It was pretty traumatic for him and even more so for me. He’s fine and I’m recovering.

I kinda like HR chicks. Well, the ones that get it. The ones you can actually joke around with and not end up in, uhhh, HR. Anyway, one I know has kind of a problem with passing out company golf shirts because it’s very “old boys network” behavior. I thought of her when I read about another cool HR chick today.

Finally, why do middle age relationships or anything remotely resembling a relationship have to be so complicated? Could it be:

– the ex?
– the kids?
– the mother?
– the other ex?
– the work thing?
– the one that got away?
– the drinking problem?
– the kids kids?
– the backhair?
– the cellulite?
– the cats?
– the dog?
– me?

Really, I’m just wondering.

Last night I met about a dozen work folks for dinner in Boston’s North End. It was a fun night, but once dinner was over I’d really had my fill of fun. We had a couple drinks before and then wine with dinner, so a few people were getting real happy and beginning to lose inhibitions. As we were walking back toward Quincy Market, the group turned left. They were going to stop and drink. I kept going straight…to walk and think.

It was a beautiful night.