Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Feed Back Attack!
I'm preparing to write an inexpensive e-book tentatively titled "Legends of the Boo Monster." Originally, it was going to just be the true story of my son, his autism, and the unique challenges and wonderment of being the Boo Monster's daddy, but then I got to thinking, and once the smoke cleared, I had an idea. What if I wrote the odd chapters about the one true real life Boo Monster and the even chapters a fairy tale about a fictional Boo Monster and his adventures? I'd really dig some feedback. What say you all?
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Stay Frosty: A Non-Guru's Rules of Surviving Social Media
I see a lot of folks on Twitter claiming that they are social media gurus. I don’t know what that means. I don’t know how to maximize social media for the benefit of your financial well-being, social status, or promote your personal brand. I don’t know what to do if you’re branded and you know you’re a man.
Look, God knows I’m guilty as hell of pimping this very blog, but I try to promote a lot of people’s stuff out of respect for their work, and maybe a little to make myself feel better for being such a self-important ninny.
I’ve been doing this internet thing since about 1997 and I’ve learned a few things. I’ll pass these lessons on to you and you can consider them as reasonable assessments or mock them for their obviousness. These are my general rules. Your mileage may vary.
1. Message boards are mine fields. I was a member of a message board for a long while and cultivated a great many pleasant friendships there; people that conducted themselves with tact, diplomacy and honor. Then there were the trolls, those people that feed off of controversy by being rude, obscene, intentionally offensive and contrary for the sake of being contrary. Trolls usually cannot be rehabilitated and assimilated into a healthy message board society. They thrill on irritating the shit out of people, focusing their most concentrated attacks on the hyper sensitive and easily offended. Then you get flame wars that produce no meaningful dialogue, no chance at compromise, just less mature versions of “I know you are, but what am I.” Sometimes, I suppose, one might see these little anonymous battles as amusing as each side makes more ridiculous and nonsensical assertions to prove their points. Eventually I was made a moderator of this board and for all my socially progressive ideals I moderated like a prudish schoolmarm. Epic fail. Eventually the trolls got to me and I unceremoniously walked away and never visited that message board again.
2. NEVER read the comments left by readers of news articles or videos. It will make you think that only a small portion of the world does not experience severe cognitive dissonance in their reasoning ability. This is also the place where drinkers of various ideological Kool-Aids spend a great deal of time being high on vitriol but low on the desire to research their arguments and augment them with actual facts and stuff.
3. Ignore any message, tweet, or post that insists the author knows what God wants, ya know, like they talked it over at Denny’s. Religion can be a wonderful thing. Quoting from various religious texts is no less valid than quoting Freud or Shakespeare, if it makes a point that illustrates your personal philosophy, but when that philosophy turns into a certainty that an unseen force with absolute authority tells you to persecute others for what they do as consenting adults I will ignore you. Also these folks tend to type in all caps, which is only allowed by another man of unshaking faith, Owen Meany.
4. The Golden Rule might get Ron Paul booed at a convention but it is definitely something I take to heart when posting on social media.
5. Don’t respond to brick walls. Brick walls cannot be reasoned with. They will always remain brick walls.
6. Double-check “facts” before you tweet or post them. I let one get by me last Sunday and if I FiretrUCK up and tweet a bad piece of information, I apologize. Example: A musical artist, who has sold millions of albums, retweeted misinformation that I tweeted to her. It was my bad because I didn’t double-check. Not only did I apologize to her but I apologized to everyone who responded to the retweet, one calling me a douche, one wondering what I was smoking, etc. The artist immediately forgave me because she’s a doll, and surprisingly every single person I apologized to not only accepted my apology but apologized for calling me names, which I kind of deserved. The whole apology process took TWO HOURS. I learned my lesson.
7. I used to have a non-political internet presence rule but recent events threatening universal women’s health care and the civil rights of the LGBT community have made me break that rule in a big way. I will however stick by my no name calling policy, but I will point out blatant hypocrisy, as politely as possible.
8. If I don’t have anything nice to say, particularly on trivial matters, I do my very best not to say it.
9. I try to never pester anyone into following me and I don’t take people not responding personally.
10.This is my most important rule.
I owe a lot of positive energy and love after the outpouring of concern and affection from my friends on social media during my recent troubles. I’m gonna pay it back hundred-fold if I can.
Until next time Love Each Other!
Look, God knows I’m guilty as hell of pimping this very blog, but I try to promote a lot of people’s stuff out of respect for their work, and maybe a little to make myself feel better for being such a self-important ninny.
I’ve been doing this internet thing since about 1997 and I’ve learned a few things. I’ll pass these lessons on to you and you can consider them as reasonable assessments or mock them for their obviousness. These are my general rules. Your mileage may vary.
1. Message boards are mine fields. I was a member of a message board for a long while and cultivated a great many pleasant friendships there; people that conducted themselves with tact, diplomacy and honor. Then there were the trolls, those people that feed off of controversy by being rude, obscene, intentionally offensive and contrary for the sake of being contrary. Trolls usually cannot be rehabilitated and assimilated into a healthy message board society. They thrill on irritating the shit out of people, focusing their most concentrated attacks on the hyper sensitive and easily offended. Then you get flame wars that produce no meaningful dialogue, no chance at compromise, just less mature versions of “I know you are, but what am I.” Sometimes, I suppose, one might see these little anonymous battles as amusing as each side makes more ridiculous and nonsensical assertions to prove their points. Eventually I was made a moderator of this board and for all my socially progressive ideals I moderated like a prudish schoolmarm. Epic fail. Eventually the trolls got to me and I unceremoniously walked away and never visited that message board again.
2. NEVER read the comments left by readers of news articles or videos. It will make you think that only a small portion of the world does not experience severe cognitive dissonance in their reasoning ability. This is also the place where drinkers of various ideological Kool-Aids spend a great deal of time being high on vitriol but low on the desire to research their arguments and augment them with actual facts and stuff.
3. Ignore any message, tweet, or post that insists the author knows what God wants, ya know, like they talked it over at Denny’s. Religion can be a wonderful thing. Quoting from various religious texts is no less valid than quoting Freud or Shakespeare, if it makes a point that illustrates your personal philosophy, but when that philosophy turns into a certainty that an unseen force with absolute authority tells you to persecute others for what they do as consenting adults I will ignore you. Also these folks tend to type in all caps, which is only allowed by another man of unshaking faith, Owen Meany.
4. The Golden Rule might get Ron Paul booed at a convention but it is definitely something I take to heart when posting on social media.
5. Don’t respond to brick walls. Brick walls cannot be reasoned with. They will always remain brick walls.
6. Double-check “facts” before you tweet or post them. I let one get by me last Sunday and if I FiretrUCK up and tweet a bad piece of information, I apologize. Example: A musical artist, who has sold millions of albums, retweeted misinformation that I tweeted to her. It was my bad because I didn’t double-check. Not only did I apologize to her but I apologized to everyone who responded to the retweet, one calling me a douche, one wondering what I was smoking, etc. The artist immediately forgave me because she’s a doll, and surprisingly every single person I apologized to not only accepted my apology but apologized for calling me names, which I kind of deserved. The whole apology process took TWO HOURS. I learned my lesson.
7. I used to have a non-political internet presence rule but recent events threatening universal women’s health care and the civil rights of the LGBT community have made me break that rule in a big way. I will however stick by my no name calling policy, but I will point out blatant hypocrisy, as politely as possible.
8. If I don’t have anything nice to say, particularly on trivial matters, I do my very best not to say it.
9. I try to never pester anyone into following me and I don’t take people not responding personally.
10.This is my most important rule.
I owe a lot of positive energy and love after the outpouring of concern and affection from my friends on social media during my recent troubles. I’m gonna pay it back hundred-fold if I can.
Until next time Love Each Other!
Friday, February 3, 2012
Thursday, January 19, 2012
I Won’t See Me at My Funeral/Love Lies Floating
Recently, I was a call in patient on Emily Volman’s funny and entirely useful “Laughing with You” podcast/podcouch/ blogfest extravaganza. The subject was my inability to tone down my endless worrying; little did I know that the therapy would lead me to a concept that would threaten to tear my very concept of reality asunder.
People on the internet might NOT be my real friends? Madness!
If you wish to hear the aforementioned session, you can find it here, or on the iTunes. Don’t worry I’ll be here soaking in my narcissism when you get back. Maybe I’ll sing myself a little song while you read. (Shawn Colton does not own the rights to the likenesses of KISS, the song by Richard O'Brien, or the blatant rip-offery of Tim Curry's golden tones. ::Steps off of SOPA box::)
Welcome back! So you listened, what did you what did you think of...?
I'm sorry, what?
Yes,Caissie St.Onge is truly awesome.
So, as I was saying ...
Did I meet Ms. St Onge in the green room of the show? No, actually I was late and she had to fly back to...
WAITASEC!
Listen, this BLOG IS ABOUT ME!
What kind of friend are you?
Oh no! What if Emily was right? What if people on the interwebz aren't REALLY my friends.
I talked to the man I named my son after (and likely the only person that will COMPLETELY understand this entries title), Mr. D. W. Hanson,a.k.a. Ragz Dandelion and he seemed to agree with Emily's sentiment. To be a true friend, you need to see people at both their best and their worst.
So I thought, about it, and I have come to a conclusion. Looking around my house at all the things my internet family have sent me over the years, and then realizing that the ability to purchase this house was the result of an internet relationship I ...
Well, we'll leave that story for the next entry.
The question is ... what do you think?
Comment and discuss. Please.
(Special Thanks to the beautiful and talented DJ PlaZma for recording that karaoke performance, so very long ago. )
People on the internet might NOT be my real friends? Madness!
If you wish to hear the aforementioned session, you can find it here, or on the iTunes. Don’t worry I’ll be here soaking in my narcissism when you get back. Maybe I’ll sing myself a little song while you read. (Shawn Colton does not own the rights to the likenesses of KISS, the song by Richard O'Brien, or the blatant rip-offery of Tim Curry's golden tones. ::Steps off of SOPA box::)
Welcome back! So you listened, what did you what did you think of...?
I'm sorry, what?
Yes,Caissie St.Onge is truly awesome.
So, as I was saying ...
Did I meet Ms. St Onge in the green room of the show? No, actually I was late and she had to fly back to...
WAITASEC!
Listen, this BLOG IS ABOUT ME!
What kind of friend are you?
Oh no! What if Emily was right? What if people on the interwebz aren't REALLY my friends.
I talked to the man I named my son after (and likely the only person that will COMPLETELY understand this entries title), Mr. D. W. Hanson,a.k.a. Ragz Dandelion and he seemed to agree with Emily's sentiment. To be a true friend, you need to see people at both their best and their worst.
So I thought, about it, and I have come to a conclusion. Looking around my house at all the things my internet family have sent me over the years, and then realizing that the ability to purchase this house was the result of an internet relationship I ...
Well, we'll leave that story for the next entry.
The question is ... what do you think?
Comment and discuss. Please.
(Special Thanks to the beautiful and talented DJ PlaZma for recording that karaoke performance, so very long ago. )
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
The Doctor Who Lyric Morph Challenge!
I might need help with something from all of you that are Doctor Who fans. I recently blipped Jane Monheit's version of "Waters of March" and remembered the Doctor Who special "Waters of Mars" So with a little help from Jane (she came up with all of the Tom Baker era references) I could only cobble together one verse and a chorus. Anyone want to take a crack at the other verses?
First, here's Jane singing "Waters of March" for those who aren't familiar with the tune, followed by the lyrics I slapped together this morning.
Daleks, Davros, it’s the end of the road.
He’s the last Lord of time, he’s a little alone
It’s a Tardis so blue, it’s a box with a phone
It’s a sliver of time, it is space, so we run
It’s a Robot of Death, it’s a trap, it’s no fun
Sontaran Doom, Rutans in the brush
Autons made of wood, which he has to crush
The Ood a song, a ship, a fall
The crash, a win, it was nothing at all
It’s the Cybermen march, talons of weng-chiang
It is old, it is new, and the Cloister Bell rang
And the Doctor he cracked at the Waters of Mars
It’s the end of all time, with a song in his heart
Feel free to e-mail me your verses at fatherwizard@gmail.com
First, here's Jane singing "Waters of March" for those who aren't familiar with the tune, followed by the lyrics I slapped together this morning.
Daleks, Davros, it’s the end of the road.
He’s the last Lord of time, he’s a little alone
It’s a Tardis so blue, it’s a box with a phone
It’s a sliver of time, it is space, so we run
It’s a Robot of Death, it’s a trap, it’s no fun
Sontaran Doom, Rutans in the brush
Autons made of wood, which he has to crush
The Ood a song, a ship, a fall
The crash, a win, it was nothing at all
It’s the Cybermen march, talons of weng-chiang
It is old, it is new, and the Cloister Bell rang
And the Doctor he cracked at the Waters of Mars
It’s the end of all time, with a song in his heart
Feel free to e-mail me your verses at fatherwizard@gmail.com
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Oh My Stars and Garters !
I haven't posted in a little while as I've been under the weather. Not literally. I'm not "out of doors" as George Thorogood would say. Apparently, and this is a wild guess, you're more likely to catch a cold when your immunity system is compromised by, oh, say, a robot wielding urologist yanking your prostate through your belly.
The Boo Monster is going through one of his Superboy phases where he is ball of joyous unfocused energy. It's exhausting to say the least and I'm more than a little scatter-brained so it makes for quite the adventure. His manic behavior is accompanied by gales of laughter as if to counter-balance my exasperation.
Do I shout sometimes? You damn betcha! But a bellowing Daddy is a funny daddy. Or he just no sells it completely, as if he doesn't even hear me. I think he's trying to speed up my recovery through rapid rehab. Ya know, so I can be his big goofy butler.
I did something fun last Thursday, but I don't want to reveal what it is until it's posted, which will be soon. I just hope I didn't drive the whole affair off a cliff with my Irish-Catholic Richard Lewis-like mania.
Now ladies and gentlemen, Ms. Brigitte Zarie with some "Money, Money, Money". So talented, the brains behind chocolate wallpaper, and a really nice young lady to boot!
The Boo Monster is going through one of his Superboy phases where he is ball of joyous unfocused energy. It's exhausting to say the least and I'm more than a little scatter-brained so it makes for quite the adventure. His manic behavior is accompanied by gales of laughter as if to counter-balance my exasperation.
Do I shout sometimes? You damn betcha! But a bellowing Daddy is a funny daddy. Or he just no sells it completely, as if he doesn't even hear me. I think he's trying to speed up my recovery through rapid rehab. Ya know, so I can be his big goofy butler.
I did something fun last Thursday, but I don't want to reveal what it is until it's posted, which will be soon. I just hope I didn't drive the whole affair off a cliff with my Irish-Catholic Richard Lewis-like mania.
Now ladies and gentlemen, Ms. Brigitte Zarie with some "Money, Money, Money". So talented, the brains behind chocolate wallpaper, and a really nice young lady to boot!
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
The Angels of My Recovery Part One, and My Han Solo Like Performance in the Kegel Run!
The Epiphany: Angel Man Introduces Liza Jane to her Alternate Life as Jessica Claus
My support system has been mighty,unified and tireless during my ordeal, and the Angels of My Recovery span the globe, and I aspire to be worthy of all of the positive energy I've received, not just during my war with cancer (which we won)but through so much more.
First I'll discuss ,and sing the praises of, a very important Triumvirate of Spiritual Energy that has added me as the big shambling sidekick, a sort of Ben Grimm in the Fantastic Four. I'm not quite as creative, talented and spritually aware as they are but they love me anyway, and we vibrate on the same universal frequency.
After that we'll talk about my brush with incontinence, ya know, to even things out.
Sandra Bernhard introduced me to Michael Gardner who introduced me to Liz Carr and the three have been integral parts of my sanity and recovery. (Micheal and Liz are pictured above, Sandy sings you a song in the video below.)
Sandra and I were born on Michigan soil, Geminis, and while she was becoming a superstar, I was just feeling my way through a confusing life where I didn't quite know what to make of myself. We met several years ago on the Twitter and she has cheered me on through my trials and tribulations ever since, with unwavering love and loyalty. She's my friend and hero. Why did an internationally recognized creative genius take an interest in me? I'm just lucky I guess. Oh, and for those who feel that perhaps our friendship is a figment of my imagination and that I'm just some fan who likes to name drop, and I say this in the nicest way I can muster, please feel free to go screw yourself. Sandy and I have a spiritual connection even if I'm not taking the apartment. (Insert "Will & Grace"/ Blender joke here.)
It was through Sandy that I met Michael Gardner, who when he found out that I had cancer, rallied his considerable resources to come to my aid. I'm fairly certain he's an angel, which is why I call him Angel Man. Again, Michael was a person that had no real reason to take any interest in me, outside of the fact that I was a member of the human race in need of balance and a stay against the Widening Gyre. His energy is unlike any I've ever encountered. Michael is an artist of great talent and accomplishment. I'm just some guy who lives in Flint. I'm willing to believe that something more than luck is the reason we crossed paths.
Michael introduced me to Liz Carr, my Jedi Master. Liz knows how to even me out and helps me accept and embrace my perfect imperfections. We've both been through a ringer or two and came out in a good place. We have hysterically funny long phone conversations and if I'm one-tenth the inspiration to her that she is to me I'll be very pleased.
I don't just admire and respect these people. I love them.
And now ladies and gentlemen along with the brilliant Mitchell Kaplan, my Sister Gemini!
... and now let's talk about a complication of my RADICAL PROSTATECTOMY.
Mild incontinence. It's not a lot of fun. The upside is I get to do kegel excercises, so I have that going for me, which is nice. My urologist insists this is a temporary condition. But laughing is a treacherous endeavor these days.
So until next time love each other and for those who suffer the same malady as I currently face, wet 'em if you got 'em.
Oh, and good night, Miss Jhoni, wherever you are. I miss ya.
My support system has been mighty,unified and tireless during my ordeal, and the Angels of My Recovery span the globe, and I aspire to be worthy of all of the positive energy I've received, not just during my war with cancer (which we won)but through so much more.
First I'll discuss ,and sing the praises of, a very important Triumvirate of Spiritual Energy that has added me as the big shambling sidekick, a sort of Ben Grimm in the Fantastic Four. I'm not quite as creative, talented and spritually aware as they are but they love me anyway, and we vibrate on the same universal frequency.
After that we'll talk about my brush with incontinence, ya know, to even things out.
Sandra Bernhard introduced me to Michael Gardner who introduced me to Liz Carr and the three have been integral parts of my sanity and recovery. (Micheal and Liz are pictured above, Sandy sings you a song in the video below.)
Sandra and I were born on Michigan soil, Geminis, and while she was becoming a superstar, I was just feeling my way through a confusing life where I didn't quite know what to make of myself. We met several years ago on the Twitter and she has cheered me on through my trials and tribulations ever since, with unwavering love and loyalty. She's my friend and hero. Why did an internationally recognized creative genius take an interest in me? I'm just lucky I guess. Oh, and for those who feel that perhaps our friendship is a figment of my imagination and that I'm just some fan who likes to name drop, and I say this in the nicest way I can muster, please feel free to go screw yourself. Sandy and I have a spiritual connection even if I'm not taking the apartment. (Insert "Will & Grace"/ Blender joke here.)
It was through Sandy that I met Michael Gardner, who when he found out that I had cancer, rallied his considerable resources to come to my aid. I'm fairly certain he's an angel, which is why I call him Angel Man. Again, Michael was a person that had no real reason to take any interest in me, outside of the fact that I was a member of the human race in need of balance and a stay against the Widening Gyre. His energy is unlike any I've ever encountered. Michael is an artist of great talent and accomplishment. I'm just some guy who lives in Flint. I'm willing to believe that something more than luck is the reason we crossed paths.
Michael introduced me to Liz Carr, my Jedi Master. Liz knows how to even me out and helps me accept and embrace my perfect imperfections. We've both been through a ringer or two and came out in a good place. We have hysterically funny long phone conversations and if I'm one-tenth the inspiration to her that she is to me I'll be very pleased.
I don't just admire and respect these people. I love them.
And now ladies and gentlemen along with the brilliant Mitchell Kaplan, my Sister Gemini!
... and now let's talk about a complication of my RADICAL PROSTATECTOMY.
Mild incontinence. It's not a lot of fun. The upside is I get to do kegel excercises, so I have that going for me, which is nice. My urologist insists this is a temporary condition. But laughing is a treacherous endeavor these days.
So until next time love each other and for those who suffer the same malady as I currently face, wet 'em if you got 'em.
Oh, and good night, Miss Jhoni, wherever you are. I miss ya.
Monday, January 2, 2012
It's The Mayan Countdown
Happy New Year! 2012 : The Year I (Probably) Don't Have Cancer Anymore !
I think I'll start the New Year by plugging some remarkably talented people.
Tianna Hall One my favorites singing a song I thought karaoke hosting killed for me until now.
I think I'll start the New Year by plugging some remarkably talented people.
Tianna Hall One my favorites singing a song I thought karaoke hosting killed for me until now.
Tianna Hall - Creep
Also, it has come to my attention that Emily Volman has launched an exceptional podcast while I was all "woe is me" so I marathoned the four available episodes today: The Laughing with You Podcast! It's loads of fun! There's a link to it on the right hand side of this blog as well.
Speaking of Nashville: Mark Evitts is one heck of a "utility musician" and if you go to his website linked above, do yourself a favor and hit play on "Viology" Mesmerizing! I'd post it here directly but I can't figure out how.
I'll be back with alarming frequency in 2012. I hope you don't get too sick of me!
Friday, December 30, 2011
Dear Cancer: Gotcha!
First of all, I'm healing up very quickly from the surgery. A little pain and mild incontinence is all that's still bothersome. I think the rapid healing is in part due to the Captain Jack Harkness R.A.F. coat my wife bought me for Christmas. (Pictured above.. Sorry, I'm not better lookin'.)
I was going to title this blog entry “Catheter the Great” but I my respect for horses prevented it.
My urologist called me this morning and informed me that while the cancer actually spread fairly rapidly between the biopsy and the surgery, meaning that mine was the more aggressive variety, it was still contained within the prostate, so its removal will more than likely mean I can change the name of the blog in a couple weeks.
All of the positive energy I’ve received over the past several months worked its magic. I owe you one. Every single one of you.
I’ll save the stories of humiliation and discomfort for another post. Right now, I’m too damned happy to whine.
Here’s me singing “Midnight Train to Georgia”, that should be enough discomfort for today.
I do wonder though, if my bloodwork comes back in a few weeks and I find out that I am, in fact, cancer free, what should I rename my blog?
Monday, December 19, 2011
Out of the Dark!
Quick update!
The surgery is over and was completed with great competency and care. I was toying with posting a picture of my battle damaged and artfully manscaped mid-section but decided against it.
The catheter comes out Wednesday morning and the pathology should be back before the new year.
I hope to feel well enough to post a full length piece soon.
I'd like to leave you with a couple of snappy numbers.
"T'd Like You For Christmas" by the Brunette Bias fave Holly Cole.
And this ... "If my blog could tell you all the pretty words..."
Saturday, December 10, 2011
Meet The Koltar Family!
David Hanson a.k.a. Ragz Dandelion, a.k.a. the fella I named the Boo Monster after, created the character Koltar, based on me more than a quarter of a century ago. So I commissioned him to do a Koltar Family portrait, and here it is in brilliant water colors and pastels. Once we get it here it'll be up on the wall and I'll take another picture!
Check out his artwork at the link above, and if you need art work done, he's worth every penny.
See all you all after surgery, assuming things go right this time.
Please love each other in the meantime!
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
The Blog Hiatus vs. Gamera
Happy Holidays from Stately Boo Monster Manor (pictured above)!
I have to take a few days before surgery to catch up on work; since I’m going to lose some hours after the Cybermen perform my RADICAL PROSTATECTOMY (allegedly) on the 14th, so my blog is going to be in a holding pattern over La Guardia for a little bit. But I’ll be back after the surgery, as soon as I am able. When I do I’ll tell you a semi-fictional story of how I found out the answer to “How is a raven like a writing desk?” I say “semi-fictional” because I meditated over it and came up with the answer. I’ll even tell you the answer now but I won’t explain it until just before Christmas.
SPOILERS!
Q: How is a raven like a writing desk?
A: Faith is not a wedding dress.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Everything Happens To Me
The following is intentionally melodramatic and not meant to be taken entirely seriously.
Surgery has been rescheduled for December 14th; and so I have returned to Limbo in my mind, but while I was at the hospital someone came in and trashed the place. They didn’t even bother taking the valuables like my lucky Captain Kirk dollar bill or my limited edition Hillary Clinton plate; they just made a huge mess. I made a point of leaving limbo nice and orderly when I left for the hospital, and I come back to chaos. Oh yeah, they did take a bunch of video tapes from the eighties that I never got a chance to watch. Wonder what was on ‘em.
My expectations have been murdered, and one thing’s for sure, someone’s responsible.
I could look no further than the nice basket of food sent to me by the hospital (photo above) with the card reading “Sorry for the delay,” to suspect that some otherworldly force was at work here, but there was more … on the very same day I received care packages from two of the most enchanting talents in the history of talent, Jane Monheit and Tianna Hall. Some may consider this a cluster of coincidences, but I know it’s a sign from the very Universe itself. Because everything happens for a reason, except for *really* bad stuff, because then I’d think the Universe was a jerk, and then life wouldn’t be so fun.
So, until the surgery actually happens, we’re going to figure out what the Universe was trying to tell me…. together! Karmic boomerang, infinity gauntlet, the smoking man, the ghost of Thanksgiving past, the cancellation of “Joan of Arcadia,” or some guy in a SHIT HAPPENS tee shirt shopping at Wal-Mart, we will get to the bottom of this.
Until then I leave you with my hero/friend Tianna Hall singing the title track to this blog entry, which can also be found on her new album “Never Let Me Go.”
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Cancer's Lucky Strike
The surgery that I was supposed to have today didn’t happen.
Maybe it’s because I listed my religious preference to the hospital clerk as Jedi, maybe it’s because improbability dances with me in the shadows, or maybe, just maybe, it’s “just because”. Scratch that last one, I’ve seen and experienced too much to believe in “just because.”
What bothers me is that, in a very odd way, I feel I let so many people down. All the love and positive energy from people I received to face this day and the coach never let me off the bench.
We went to the hospital and I was admitted, given a fashionable paper gown and sock like things (which I’m still wearing). They took some of my blood; fitted me with some blood-clot preventing, inflatable calf leggings (which I brought home), hooked me up to the IV and sent my wife in to wait with me for the moment that I had , after weeks of anxiety, finally prepared myself for. I was ready for this. I wasn’t afraid.
Then the medical team came in. The doctor said that he had bad news. The robotic equipment that was to be used in my procedure was, for the first time, malfunctioning, and the surgery could not be performed today. I was stunned; I had read that these machines malfunction less than 1% of the time. More than that, I was crestfallen. My dark passenger would continue life inside me for a while longer.
For their part, the staff of the hospital was extremely apologetic, even giving us gift cards for the cafeteria since I’d been on a liquid diet for the last 48 hours preparing for the surgery, and was famished.
Later I learned that the equipment had malfunctioned during the prostatectomy that was taking place before mine, and that my urologist had to finish it up old school, which is much messier and less reliable.
So I guess, I’m sort of lucky.
But damn it, I had this! I was in charge of my feelings in a stressful situation for one of the first times in my life and I didn’t get a chance to win the day. All because a highly improbable malfunction happened *minutes* before I was going to be put under. That’s not bad luck, that’s a challenge from the Universe. I’ll get back to you as soon as I figure out what that challenge is.
The next try at surgery will be mid-December.
So the question that I pose to you dear reader is:
Do I save the narrative of this story by not posting for a few weeks until after the surgery *really* takes place (perhaps with the entry title “Let’s Kill Cancer!”); or do you still love me enough to let me carry on as is?
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Silence Will Fall ... Because I'll Be On Some Good Drugs,
This is my last blog entry before the surgery, so I’ll try to keep it light and frothy, and save the catheter and erectile dysfunction humor for the recovery diary. I will say that my wife will definitely enjoy that extra ten minutes of sleep a week. *rim shot*
Today’s entry will be filled with a few random observations, and finally a video by the artist that my wife half-jokingly calls my “other lover.”
Some Interesting “Philosophical” Quips :
“Pain Don’t Hurt” from Roadhouse. Only Patrick Swayze and his intense, very nearly believable earnestness could pull off this line. Pain, by definition, does NOTHING but hurt. But by golly, I stole this as a catch phrase, and never let it go. Tomorrow, I may modify the line to “Could you please give me something that makes pain don’t hurt?” File this along with “I ain’t got time to bleed,” by Jesse Ventura from Predator. You can tell someone’s a badass when they make you believe a sentence that contradicts itself in six words or less. Nobody puts Baby in the corner? Really? Where is she sitting? In the corner! She may have even decided to sit in the corner. Who do you think you are, Patrick Swayze? Okay, I admit may be overreacting here. When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong. By the way, sometimes people will put Baby in the corner because of the mess she makes with strained peas, but everyone loves the bowl of spaghetti on the head trick.
“That’s the trouble with self-improvement, honey, I know when it’s time to quit,” from David Lee Roth’s “A Little Luck”. Say what you will about Diamond Dave, but when he puts his mind to it he can be one clever son of a gun, and I’ll be darned if he’s not right. Keeping your imperfections perfect requires a little good old fashioned laziness. One doesn’t want to become someone other than their true self, that’s like messing with a fixed point in time.
Don’t do that by the way.
“Do or do not, there is no try,” says Yoda to Luke and everyone just ate it up. Now, I love me some Yoda but my Jedi Master, Liz Carr, would never say something so ridiculous. How are you supposed to “do” if you don’t try? We’re not all naturals at pulling aircraft out of swamps with our minds, Grover. Yeah, that’s right. I went there.
Speaking of Sesame Street’s Grover, if you have a kid, or even if you don’t, purchase a copy of “The Monster at the End of this Book” by Jon Stone and Michael Smolin. It’s insanely clever.
Just mixed up my magic intestine cleaning fluid (with Lemon Flavor Packet!), which I will drink tomorrow after a “liquid breakfast”, followed by a full day of liquid meals. Fortunately, my wife will be home and can talk with my Jedi Master (Hi, Liz!), during our weekly confab, when I am otherwise “occupied”.
I’m wearing my “Macho Forever” shirt today, in honor of what would have been Randy Savage’s 59th birthday, and I’ll be wearing my Pop My Culture Podcast Tee on my way home from surgery, in honor of it being such a great show. With all these great tee-shirts I could be a model on “Project Runaway”.
Once again, I’d like to thank you all so much for the positive energy and support you’ve shown me and my family during this challenge, and believe me I’m absorbing it all, and will use it to recover quickly and finish off this cancer, and maybe, just maybe, with all this love inside me, I might make a positive difference in the world.
Thank to Jenni Cole (@LilFerret on the Twitter) for picking this entries title, well the first part of it anyway. I added the drugs part.
And speaking of things that make me light headed and happy...
Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. John Barrowman…
Today’s entry will be filled with a few random observations, and finally a video by the artist that my wife half-jokingly calls my “other lover.”
Some Interesting “Philosophical” Quips :
“Pain Don’t Hurt” from Roadhouse. Only Patrick Swayze and his intense, very nearly believable earnestness could pull off this line. Pain, by definition, does NOTHING but hurt. But by golly, I stole this as a catch phrase, and never let it go. Tomorrow, I may modify the line to “Could you please give me something that makes pain don’t hurt?” File this along with “I ain’t got time to bleed,” by Jesse Ventura from Predator. You can tell someone’s a badass when they make you believe a sentence that contradicts itself in six words or less. Nobody puts Baby in the corner? Really? Where is she sitting? In the corner! She may have even decided to sit in the corner. Who do you think you are, Patrick Swayze? Okay, I admit may be overreacting here. When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong. By the way, sometimes people will put Baby in the corner because of the mess she makes with strained peas, but everyone loves the bowl of spaghetti on the head trick.
“That’s the trouble with self-improvement, honey, I know when it’s time to quit,” from David Lee Roth’s “A Little Luck”. Say what you will about Diamond Dave, but when he puts his mind to it he can be one clever son of a gun, and I’ll be darned if he’s not right. Keeping your imperfections perfect requires a little good old fashioned laziness. One doesn’t want to become someone other than their true self, that’s like messing with a fixed point in time.
Don’t do that by the way.
“Do or do not, there is no try,” says Yoda to Luke and everyone just ate it up. Now, I love me some Yoda but my Jedi Master, Liz Carr, would never say something so ridiculous. How are you supposed to “do” if you don’t try? We’re not all naturals at pulling aircraft out of swamps with our minds, Grover. Yeah, that’s right. I went there.
Speaking of Sesame Street’s Grover, if you have a kid, or even if you don’t, purchase a copy of “The Monster at the End of this Book” by Jon Stone and Michael Smolin. It’s insanely clever.
Just mixed up my magic intestine cleaning fluid (with Lemon Flavor Packet!), which I will drink tomorrow after a “liquid breakfast”, followed by a full day of liquid meals. Fortunately, my wife will be home and can talk with my Jedi Master (Hi, Liz!), during our weekly confab, when I am otherwise “occupied”.
I’m wearing my “Macho Forever” shirt today, in honor of what would have been Randy Savage’s 59th birthday, and I’ll be wearing my Pop My Culture Podcast Tee on my way home from surgery, in honor of it being such a great show. With all these great tee-shirts I could be a model on “Project Runaway”.
Once again, I’d like to thank you all so much for the positive energy and support you’ve shown me and my family during this challenge, and believe me I’m absorbing it all, and will use it to recover quickly and finish off this cancer, and maybe, just maybe, with all this love inside me, I might make a positive difference in the world.
Thank to Jenni Cole (@LilFerret on the Twitter) for picking this entries title, well the first part of it anyway. I added the drugs part.
And speaking of things that make me light headed and happy...
Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. John Barrowman…
Monday, November 14, 2011
Goodbye To Fear !
Three days from the surgery, and I woke up this morning with the strangest sensation.
For the first time, perhaps ever, I wasn’t afraid. It didn’t feel like a temporary moment of euphoria, it felt like all the fear in my body, mind and soul fell into a pocket universe, and then fell into a volcano. This odd moment of clarity shouldn’t go without comment.
I should probably point out that in the last ten years, my life has improved significantly. I am with the life partner that I am supposed to be with; I have a beautiful son who changed me forever. I have the support and friendship of so many people that like me more than I could ever like myself. I still try to figure out how I warrant so much positive energy from these angels and warriors in my life, and I should probably stop trying to figure it out and just appreciate it, and more importantly, reciprocate it.
I should also point out that some of the following material is of a very serious nature and almost all of it is information I’ve never disclosed. So I’ll try to lighten things up for tomorrows entry.
But before I met my wife, changing my universe forever, fear and I were very close.
I was born afraid. I was afraid to fail, I was afraid to succeed. I was afraid to be myself and I was afraid to conform. I was afraid of demons, professional bowlers, and taking a shower in gym class. I was afraid that Jesus hated me and that Godzilla really might just be a guy in a rubber suit. I was afraid my stuffed animals might explode in the washing machine and I was afraid that Playboy would make me go blind.
My single greatest source of fear, however, has always been myself. How I react to things, how I make other people feel, how I was unable to get my shit together enough to be a productive member of society, how I let people down, how I was so obsessive compulsive, how I wanted it all but didn’t want to work for it. Fearing myself made me a Grade A loser.
I like to think that I’ve always been, more or less, a person of good intentions, but the way I reacted to fear led me down dark paths and convinced me to do bad things; but that kind of fear comes from one place: not being honest with yourself about who you really are.
Being true to yourself is not always easy and the more you lie to yourself the further you get away from your true center, and the harder it is to get back home. When you lie to yourself it becomes necessary to lie to others. Sometimes those lies are merely tall tales made up to impress someone that you don’t believe really could respect you as you are. Some of those lies are made to cover your tracks for something you’ve done that will hurt others. Further down the line, you lie just so you don’t get caught at something you’d probably keep doing if you could get away with it. That’s when you’ve lost your way. I’m sure most of us have been there. Of course, all of those lies come in with built in excuses. Heaven knows I had excuses lined up for everything rotten I’ve ever done.
So, how did I get to that place, a place that sent me so far down into the pits of despair that I tried to take my life twenty years ago? Fear of being myself, or more specifically, fear of allowing others to see me as I am.
How many people do you know that are in “committed” relationships that are actively pursuing extracurricular dalliances, when they can get away with it? My guess is that you know quite a few. I worked at a bar for thirteen years and saw both men and women (though mostly men) try to pick up someone for a cheap thrill, a distraction from the norm, a little adventure to keep life interesting.
I used to be that guy. I’m not proud of that. Why did I act that way? Because I was lying to myself about who I really was, by putting myself in life that I always knew wasn’t the right choice for me, but provided security, stability,and held the fear of being alone at bay. Well, since I was lying to myself, I had to lie to others, people that didn’t deserve to be lied to. Good people who believed in me because I allowed them to see only the good side of me, which actually existed, but was tainted by this scret darkness. So in the end, I was destroying myself and taking decent people with me and the hell of it was that I knew it. I tried so many things to “cure” myself. I drank excessively, I gambled hoping luck could buy happiness, I took out bad loans to pay the bills. I was such a basket case.
One of my good qualities is also one of my most troublesome ones. I know when I’m taking the wrong path. I was hurting people and I knew it, and I honestly believed there was only way I could stop hurting other people. It was an easy choice. I hated myself. It was time to go. So I took a couple bottles of sleeping pills and tried to die. It wasn’t a cry for help. In fact, the concept of suicide filled me peace.
The man who I was living with at the time, and the man I named my son after, got me to a hospital in time and saved my life. When I came to in the hospital my first words to him were “Boy, I really can’t do anything right.”
I tried my best after recovering to help heal the wounds I caused, but it was still, I knew deep down inside, all a lie. I tried my best to become a good man who did good things, but the truth wasn’t going to change. So I started to unravel again.
Then ten years ago, I met the girl of my dreams, and the truth was that I knew I was going to spend the rest of my life with her. Suddenly, there was no further need to lie to myself or anyone else. It wasn’t always smooth at first, and there are occasional twists in the road, but it’s the right road and we are so blessed to have such beautiful travelers with us along the way. A good portion of those companions on this journey are reading this blog right now, and I will do everything in my power to make you proud to know me.
So on Thursday, when the robot goes in and gets my cancer riddled prostate, I won’t be afraid because I now know I’m a better version of me, maybe on my way to being the BEST version of me.
I am all but certain I owe an enormous amount of this new sense of peace to my Jedi Master, Liz Carr, who helped me realize to embrace the perfection of my true self’s imperfection. I still need work, I get frustrated and distracted so easily. I am sometimes petty and selfish. Maybe now, that the fear is gone, even those less noble qualities will diminish.
For the first time, perhaps ever, I wasn’t afraid. It didn’t feel like a temporary moment of euphoria, it felt like all the fear in my body, mind and soul fell into a pocket universe, and then fell into a volcano. This odd moment of clarity shouldn’t go without comment.
I should probably point out that in the last ten years, my life has improved significantly. I am with the life partner that I am supposed to be with; I have a beautiful son who changed me forever. I have the support and friendship of so many people that like me more than I could ever like myself. I still try to figure out how I warrant so much positive energy from these angels and warriors in my life, and I should probably stop trying to figure it out and just appreciate it, and more importantly, reciprocate it.
I should also point out that some of the following material is of a very serious nature and almost all of it is information I’ve never disclosed. So I’ll try to lighten things up for tomorrows entry.
But before I met my wife, changing my universe forever, fear and I were very close.
I was born afraid. I was afraid to fail, I was afraid to succeed. I was afraid to be myself and I was afraid to conform. I was afraid of demons, professional bowlers, and taking a shower in gym class. I was afraid that Jesus hated me and that Godzilla really might just be a guy in a rubber suit. I was afraid my stuffed animals might explode in the washing machine and I was afraid that Playboy would make me go blind.
My single greatest source of fear, however, has always been myself. How I react to things, how I make other people feel, how I was unable to get my shit together enough to be a productive member of society, how I let people down, how I was so obsessive compulsive, how I wanted it all but didn’t want to work for it. Fearing myself made me a Grade A loser.
I like to think that I’ve always been, more or less, a person of good intentions, but the way I reacted to fear led me down dark paths and convinced me to do bad things; but that kind of fear comes from one place: not being honest with yourself about who you really are.
Being true to yourself is not always easy and the more you lie to yourself the further you get away from your true center, and the harder it is to get back home. When you lie to yourself it becomes necessary to lie to others. Sometimes those lies are merely tall tales made up to impress someone that you don’t believe really could respect you as you are. Some of those lies are made to cover your tracks for something you’ve done that will hurt others. Further down the line, you lie just so you don’t get caught at something you’d probably keep doing if you could get away with it. That’s when you’ve lost your way. I’m sure most of us have been there. Of course, all of those lies come in with built in excuses. Heaven knows I had excuses lined up for everything rotten I’ve ever done.
So, how did I get to that place, a place that sent me so far down into the pits of despair that I tried to take my life twenty years ago? Fear of being myself, or more specifically, fear of allowing others to see me as I am.
How many people do you know that are in “committed” relationships that are actively pursuing extracurricular dalliances, when they can get away with it? My guess is that you know quite a few. I worked at a bar for thirteen years and saw both men and women (though mostly men) try to pick up someone for a cheap thrill, a distraction from the norm, a little adventure to keep life interesting.
I used to be that guy. I’m not proud of that. Why did I act that way? Because I was lying to myself about who I really was, by putting myself in life that I always knew wasn’t the right choice for me, but provided security, stability,and held the fear of being alone at bay. Well, since I was lying to myself, I had to lie to others, people that didn’t deserve to be lied to. Good people who believed in me because I allowed them to see only the good side of me, which actually existed, but was tainted by this scret darkness. So in the end, I was destroying myself and taking decent people with me and the hell of it was that I knew it. I tried so many things to “cure” myself. I drank excessively, I gambled hoping luck could buy happiness, I took out bad loans to pay the bills. I was such a basket case.
One of my good qualities is also one of my most troublesome ones. I know when I’m taking the wrong path. I was hurting people and I knew it, and I honestly believed there was only way I could stop hurting other people. It was an easy choice. I hated myself. It was time to go. So I took a couple bottles of sleeping pills and tried to die. It wasn’t a cry for help. In fact, the concept of suicide filled me peace.
The man who I was living with at the time, and the man I named my son after, got me to a hospital in time and saved my life. When I came to in the hospital my first words to him were “Boy, I really can’t do anything right.”
I tried my best after recovering to help heal the wounds I caused, but it was still, I knew deep down inside, all a lie. I tried my best to become a good man who did good things, but the truth wasn’t going to change. So I started to unravel again.
Then ten years ago, I met the girl of my dreams, and the truth was that I knew I was going to spend the rest of my life with her. Suddenly, there was no further need to lie to myself or anyone else. It wasn’t always smooth at first, and there are occasional twists in the road, but it’s the right road and we are so blessed to have such beautiful travelers with us along the way. A good portion of those companions on this journey are reading this blog right now, and I will do everything in my power to make you proud to know me.
So on Thursday, when the robot goes in and gets my cancer riddled prostate, I won’t be afraid because I now know I’m a better version of me, maybe on my way to being the BEST version of me.
I am all but certain I owe an enormous amount of this new sense of peace to my Jedi Master, Liz Carr, who helped me realize to embrace the perfection of my true self’s imperfection. I still need work, I get frustrated and distracted so easily. I am sometimes petty and selfish. Maybe now, that the fear is gone, even those less noble qualities will diminish.
For the record, I truly believe that the "good" Shawn was always the truest Shawn.
Thanks for letting me vent.
I love you guys.
Thanks for letting me vent.
I love you guys.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Give Me Levity Or Give Me Death !
I keep meaning to write about fear. In four days, I'm having life changing surgery, and I'm a little scared.
But no one wants to read that crap.
My support group has been beyond amazing.
Friday night, my long time close personal friend, and the best man at my wedding, Daniel Floyd, broadcast his 80's Night Live radio show and dedicated the whole program to me. Dan played nothing but music that I like, which is a pretty dangerous format if you want to keep your audience, but that’s the kind of friend he is. Also my Huckleberry, Annie performed “Moon River” for me, Dan also played John Barrowman and myself singing that classic number. I got a little weepy. I won’t lie.
Here's one of my new Jazz Trinity Trio Jane Monheit with my fave version of the song.
Buy all of Jane's Music ... I'm going to! Maybe even twice!
The other two Trinity members are Tianna Hall and Brigitte Zarie in case you're interested. Buy all of their stuff too.
I also got a much appreciated blast of positive energy from the folks at Pop My Culture Podcast with Cole Stratton and Vanessa Ragland. Episode 52 with special guest, the beautiful and talented Meredith Salenger.
Speaking of Cole and Vanessa, here's a photo of the shirt I'll be wearing when I leave the hospital on Friday or Saturday.
But no one wants to read that crap.
My support group has been beyond amazing.
Friday night, my long time close personal friend, and the best man at my wedding, Daniel Floyd, broadcast his 80's Night Live radio show and dedicated the whole program to me. Dan played nothing but music that I like, which is a pretty dangerous format if you want to keep your audience, but that’s the kind of friend he is. Also my Huckleberry, Annie performed “Moon River” for me, Dan also played John Barrowman and myself singing that classic number. I got a little weepy. I won’t lie.
Here's one of my new Jazz Trinity Trio Jane Monheit with my fave version of the song.
Buy all of Jane's Music ... I'm going to! Maybe even twice!
The other two Trinity members are Tianna Hall and Brigitte Zarie in case you're interested. Buy all of their stuff too.
I also got a much appreciated blast of positive energy from the folks at Pop My Culture Podcast with Cole Stratton and Vanessa Ragland. Episode 52 with special guest, the beautiful and talented Meredith Salenger.
Speaking of Cole and Vanessa, here's a photo of the shirt I'll be wearing when I leave the hospital on Friday or Saturday.
Now, let's talk about Murray Gold for a moment. I think the current restraining order has expired.
David just loves his compositions. “Rose’s Theme” and “I Am the Doctor” freeze him in his tracks. As far as I can tell, Boo doesn't care about "Doctor Who" one way or another, unless there’s a stirring theme in the background. The opening theme sends the Boo Monster into a frenzy, but I'll bet he sees the time/space vortex more frequently than we neurotypical normals do.
I also listen to A LOT of Murray’s music when I write. I’m sure my thanks are a drop in the bucket, but here they are.
I also owe him three pies. Hurm.
Speaking of the Boo Monster, that dude is finicky, like MORRIS THE CAT finicky. I keep putting various dishes in front of him and he pushes them away. One day after 5 attempts I got it right. David's fish fingers and custard are tortilla chips and catsup.
Speaking of levity. Wendy Liebman's new Showtime Special "Taller on TV" is just the right thing to watch when you're in the mood I've been in lately. There's nothing outlandish, overtly political, mean-spirited or preachy here. Just well timed, well read, clever jokes being delivered by a pro who is not only funny, but beautiful too.
Until next time, please love one another....
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Time, Lies and Videotape.
(I'm posting this about four hours early, so all times and dates are for Friday, November 11th. Also the pie is in the mail.)
11/11/11 Is Here!
Quick note: This is the symbol I use when paraphrasing the Doctor.
This entry will feature the truth and elaborate falsehoods. Fear not, it’ll be simple to discern which is which.
Six days from surgery. 1+1+1+1+1+1 = 6!
I remember the last 11/11/11 rather vividly. The Great Blue Norther they called it. Radio host and paranormal investigator Daniel Floyd and I were testing some Sontaran weather weaponry meant to freeze out the rather elementally challenged Rutans, great shape-shifters, rotten body temperature control, and we decided to park our TARDIS in Kansas City and kind of made a mess of things. Record highs in the day, record lows at night. So, all you centurians in Missouri, my apologies.
Speaking of Dan, tonight (Friday) he's doing a special version of 80's Night Live from 10 p.m. to 12 a. m. eastern standard time, dedicated to some nerd named Father Wizard or something. I'll be in the chatroom during the show. The chat Password: Krushradio
The 11/11/11 before that, I was mid-wife for the birth of future Confederate General Benjamin McCulloch. Yankee or no, I was the only one around that knew something about birthing a baby! I only recently realized the significance of that event, as I am currently working on, under the genius guidance of Tina Prause, The Civil War Today application for Arts and Entertainment Television Networks, we’re included in the The Wired App Guide . Buy both. I'll pay you back when I create a dematerialization ray.
On 11/11/1611 My time machine, Helen Mirren and I went to go see the opening performance of some play called "The Tempest". It was okay, but it could have used a few song and dance numbers. Helen seemed mesmerized, as if she had some sort of plan.
I recently decided that I don't hate the phone anymore. Mostly thanks to Liz Carr, my Jedi Master, who is one of the greatest people the Universe has ever connected me with. (That's true!) Also talking to my son's namesake David, my dear friend Lilianavonk, my new pal Marilu Henner,one of my favorite musical artists EVER Natalie Nicole Gilbert, my brilliant boss Tina, and my little brother Tim. I've become a phone guy!
Also as an aside I love Michael Gardner and Sandra Bernhard ! LOVE. THEM.
Also, a thank you to all those who served this country so nobly for so long. This days is yours, and you have my undying respect and appreciation.
The following is the unembellished truth :
I'd like to take this moment to thank the girl of my dreams, the center of my universe, the being that all my reality revolves around, and the person who has lifted me to higher heights than I'd ever thought possible. Not only has she given me the gift of my precious Boo Monster, but she gives me strength and encouragment even when I'm in spazzy, anxiety, and yes, even jerky mode. She is an academic phenom, a true genius,her beauty is unmatched, and she sings like an angel.
Pamela, my wife, my life didn't really begin until we met,and even though I'm not there yet, if I ever become the person I truly wish to be, it will be because of you.
When I come out of surgery on Thursday and see your face I will know that everything will always be all right. No. Everything will be amazing!
I love you.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Tomorrow is Saturday, and Saturday is a good day to talk about Murray Gold, a man I've relentlessly stalked dressed as David Bowie from the Ashes to Ashes video, but more importantly, Mr. Gold composed much of the music that I listen to when writing my blog.
So we'll do that tomorrow, and I've got a couple more things to talk about as well.
Until then little David Bowie for you !
Love one another !
11/11/11 Is Here!
Quick note: This is the symbol I use when paraphrasing the Doctor.
This entry will feature the truth and elaborate falsehoods. Fear not, it’ll be simple to discern which is which.
Six days from surgery. 1+1+1+1+1+1 = 6!
I remember the last 11/11/11 rather vividly. The Great Blue Norther they called it. Radio host and paranormal investigator Daniel Floyd and I were testing some Sontaran weather weaponry meant to freeze out the rather elementally challenged Rutans, great shape-shifters, rotten body temperature control, and we decided to park our TARDIS in Kansas City and kind of made a mess of things. Record highs in the day, record lows at night. So, all you centurians in Missouri, my apologies.
Speaking of Dan, tonight (Friday) he's doing a special version of 80's Night Live from 10 p.m. to 12 a. m. eastern standard time, dedicated to some nerd named Father Wizard or something. I'll be in the chatroom during the show. The chat Password: Krushradio
The 11/11/11 before that, I was mid-wife for the birth of future Confederate General Benjamin McCulloch. Yankee or no, I was the only one around that knew something about birthing a baby! I only recently realized the significance of that event, as I am currently working on, under the genius guidance of Tina Prause, The Civil War Today application for Arts and Entertainment Television Networks, we’re included in the The Wired App Guide . Buy both. I'll pay you back when I create a dematerialization ray.
On 11/11/1611 My time machine, Helen Mirren and I went to go see the opening performance of some play called "The Tempest". It was okay, but it could have used a few song and dance numbers. Helen seemed mesmerized, as if she had some sort of plan.
I recently decided that I don't hate the phone anymore. Mostly thanks to Liz Carr, my Jedi Master, who is one of the greatest people the Universe has ever connected me with. (That's true!) Also talking to my son's namesake David, my dear friend Lilianavonk, my new pal Marilu Henner,one of my favorite musical artists EVER Natalie Nicole Gilbert, my brilliant boss Tina, and my little brother Tim. I've become a phone guy!
Also as an aside I love Michael Gardner and Sandra Bernhard ! LOVE. THEM.
Also, a thank you to all those who served this country so nobly for so long. This days is yours, and you have my undying respect and appreciation.
The following is the unembellished truth :
I'd like to take this moment to thank the girl of my dreams, the center of my universe, the being that all my reality revolves around, and the person who has lifted me to higher heights than I'd ever thought possible. Not only has she given me the gift of my precious Boo Monster, but she gives me strength and encouragment even when I'm in spazzy, anxiety, and yes, even jerky mode. She is an academic phenom, a true genius,her beauty is unmatched, and she sings like an angel.
Pamela, my wife, my life didn't really begin until we met,and even though I'm not there yet, if I ever become the person I truly wish to be, it will be because of you.
When I come out of surgery on Thursday and see your face I will know that everything will always be all right. No. Everything will be amazing!
I love you.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Tomorrow is Saturday, and Saturday is a good day to talk about Murray Gold, a man I've relentlessly stalked dressed as David Bowie from the Ashes to Ashes video, but more importantly, Mr. Gold composed much of the music that I listen to when writing my blog.
So we'll do that tomorrow, and I've got a couple more things to talk about as well.
Until then little David Bowie for you !
Love one another !
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