Edge of Life

The waves push and pull. The salt water fills my lungs. I frantically churn under the water, trying to find my way to the surface for air. The water is murky from the dark skies and the sand. Before i know it, i have hit bottom. I feel the blood start to flow from my forehead from the impact on the millions of small glass like shards on the ocean floor. In my fight to save my lungs from exploding in my chest, i have swam the wrong way. Now i have to push off the underside of earth, and hope that everything in the universe will help me reach the surface before i become a part of the abyss...


Yesterday was a pretty good day. I was informed that my notification of being laid off was rescinded. Nice to know that i will have a job in the new year. One less thing to worry about, and every little bit helps.

Stevie Ray's Cabaret had a great show last night. A lot of fun, and we were informed that the hotel is going to remodel the space. I am sure it will look something like this when it is done...










...or something like that.


Trying to get the kids ready for Christmas. They have had more fun destroying the tree rather then decorating it. As long as it is a good time for them. Both kids are suffering through a raspy cold, so they are constantly in an emotional flux. Currently they are watching Rudolph... what a cruel little show.

We had a lengthy conversation with the teen the other day. Hopefully we have made some connection that allows him to take on some self responsibility. Hope is about all you can rely on as you never know when you are actually making any headway.

The new minivan is working out fine. The only thing that is not working out is how you become invisible on the road. Minivans do not get any respect. A true prejudice exists out there for them. I came to a four way stop on more then one occasion yesterday, and each time it was my turn, other cars snaked me. I am thinking i am going to have to beef up the minivan to give it some notice ability. Please leave your suggestions under the comment section.


...even now i can see the surface. Through the blood and sand that surrounds me, i see a possibility. There are only seconds left...

Beast of Burden

It sits outside. It is patient. I have watched it sleep, and it has watched back. It waits for the moment to fill its belly with flesh. Flesh of old and young. Its capacity to consume is greater then anything that has taken me before. Do i fear it? Maybe. It is still young in experience even though it has a solid ten years since its creation. Even at this moment it taunts me. It begs for me to bring my children out, as i have no way of keeping them from its clutches. It will raise its heart to great speed, and even though it is a giant, it will go unnoticed. Do i hate it? Maybe. There is no escaping it. I have spent many years avoiding its gaze, and now it sits outside my door. Do i need it??..... YES.

Weapons and Bouquets

Well, tomorrow is an interesting occasion.









As some of you may know, i carry an unusual passion for Guns N Roses, and some of you may not know that, but i assume i will be judged accordingly. This is a passion that stems from my youth obviously, and because of that, i have mixed feelings about the release of Chinese Democracy tomorrow. I am currently listening to it, as it is streamed from the GNR MySpace page. So far my hopes are not being met, but they are not being dashed either.

I know that Axl is not necessarily the most liked rock icon, but an icon none the less. As is with most individuals who ascend to greatness, they descend even greater amd often times quicker. Original band members are gone. New band members have come and gone. Critics of all sorts have laid their judgements on this eccentric individual. I think of Machiavelli's, The Prince when i think of the history of Axl Rose, just a modern version. None the less, they have had to take notice.

13 years later this man has decided to lower the draw bridge and let the masses in. And so we enter. Some enter with joy, some with intrigue, some with alterior motives, and some with the intent to say they were there. Whatever the reason, the masses are entering. If anything we enter to see how this play ends.

So i sit here passing my own judgement. Definitely not recapturing my youth, but pleased the story continues.

Dual Processing the Whine

Breathe old friend. Though you are just a piece of fruit, I have lightened your load. Breathe. I know it has been a while, and I am sure you thought that you may have lost the ability to run a faster path, but I have not forsaken you.

That’s right; the computer is running at the speed it was intended for. Turns out all those delicious videos of small children really chew up the gigabytes. With a bulk of them removed, as well as a handful of Larynx performance videos, I am once again enjoying my computer.

The weekend was spent doing some all around cleaning. Not only did I cut the clutter off the computer, but I cleared it off the office desk, home office desk, the kitchen desk, the kitchen counter, the kitchen nook, and the dining room table.

After all the de-cluttering, I proceeded to give the home shredder a complete workout. So much so, that it overheated on my three times. By the time I was done, I had enough confetti to set off Times Squares New Years Eve party. I’m sure the recycling lady will think I am covering up some unwanted documents for Lehman Brothers and give the government a call. (How fun would it be to have the job of trying to piece all of that together? The ultimate puzzle.)

Aside from the cleaning, the majority of the weekend was spent enjoying the kids. The levels of disagreements between the two are starting to soar. They are both becoming very clever as to how to antagonize the other. With that, comes a higher level of whining. Oh the whining. It is almost like art. The way they are able to make their statements so sing songy, yet brain piercing at the same time. You could send an army of whiney toddlers to a battle and they would have victory in seconds flat.

Outside of that, it was great to bond and play with my children. They remind me of how easy it is to get to the play when you are kids. Anything goes, and I love it. Sometimes I wish that I didn’t have to kick parent mode back in, just so I could see how far we could go, but jumping off the arms of the couch while naked could be dangerous for everyone.

Speaking of playing, The Outtakes had a great rehearsal. Great collective exercises and homework seems to be coming along swimmingly.

The evenings found my wife and me watching some comedy. Caught a few flicks. One worth mentioning was Forgetting Sarah Marshall. It caught me by surprise. Didn’t think I would like it, but I did. We also got to watch The Worst Week of My Life. It was funny and worth blowing a little time on. Basically turned Meet the Parents in to a week long show. (Thanks Larry B for the link).

Lots of improv on the brain as well this weekend, so maybe it is time to kick some of it in gear and implement. Time to bring in some new ideas.

Alas my fair fruit, you have endured my banter long enough. I shall relinquish my post and let your keys breathe.

Karmange

And with each new day comes change. Change. Change that can be great. Change that can be hard. Change that can be tiresome.

The great. President elect Barack Obama. A president who has the potential to breathe life back into a country. I know everyone has been discussing the possibilities for our country, so i wont belabor you with another opinion.

The hard. The hard is feeling as though you had a foot hold on your life and the ability to support your family financially after years of suffering through our economy, only to have that foot hold give way. Translation, I was given my 60 day notice.

The Tiresome. The sad part about it is that i feel as though i am getting use to being "seperated" from a failing company. The mortgage industry has created a vast graveyard of careers, and no matter how fast i find myself climbing out of a 6 foot hole, im falling into another.


Im drained. Im tired. I need to seek a motivation that is beyond my reach. There is clearly some great misalignment in my karmic universe. Wait... what's that? Felix? Is that you? It is! Can't say that i am happy to see you.

Hallowersary

Leather on Halloween.

That is the third year tradition.

It was a wonderful day. While at work my wife text me many pictures of a frog trick-or-treating throughout business buildings. Was great to see this amphibian gather candy for the first time.



Later on my wife and i would have a couple hours to ourselves to enjoy our anniversary together. We went and had some gourmet pizza at The California Kitchen. While there, we had some fun conversation and watched Nick Swardson* eat spaghetti like a pig. Hopefully he was doing it to impress the child he was with.

We then went and picked up the little ones. Got them home and prepped them for their big night out. They ate their dinner while my amazing wife let me catch about 30 min of sleep.

We headed out and started our neighborhood canvas. The kids were great and very polite. Jessie was eager to scream "Trick-or-Treat" while Logan was eager to pass out his candy at each house. I think all the neighbors were taken by surprised when Logan through candy back in their bowls. He was a generous puppy.

The teenager went to a Halloween party. When he got home, he was out of sorts. He claims "really happy" mood, we claim a mood enhancer. The joys of teenage parenting.

The night was capped off with some soup containing MSG and House on Haunted Hill and House on Haunted Hill 2**.

A great anniversary as the majority of the day was spent with my lovely and beautiful wife. Oh yeah, she gave me some leather, but that's between us.




*Amazing what LA passes for "talent" these days
**These movies sucked for horror. Could anyone recommend a truly good horror film. Maybe a blog devoted to these bad films are on the horizon.

Mental Raking

nos·tal·gi·a (nŏ-stāl'jə, nə-) Pronunciation Key
n.

1. A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past.


Fall brings it on. Not sure why, but it does.

There are just particular times that i truly wish that Mr. Peabody and his boy Sherman really had invented the WABAC Machine. I would jump in there and revisit some of the cherished moments of life. Let me reflect on a few...

The first time i caught air at the Fort Kam half pipe in Hawaii.

The time i caught a winning touchdown pass for my block "Lufberry Players" against our neighboring block on Seymour Johnson AFB in Goldsboro NC.

The first, second, and third time i wend to Disneyworld with family.

My first award for a relief print i created at the Ala Moana Mall.

My first kiss that took way to long to happen because i was not good at reading girls and when I finally did it she gave me a look that told me I should have done that about twenty minutes early. All while sitting in her cool car outside of my house in Grand Forks AFB, ND.

A kiss that took place in Bloomington MN next to an old blueChevy Cavalier with the same girl as the first kiss, but this one was much better, passionate, and waaaay less awkward.

The first time i got a huge laugh while doing stand up at Hot Rox's in Minneapolis.

Watching both my children being born at a local Fairview hospital.

My first roller coaster ride on the Wild Thing with my best friend.

Attending my first Guns N Roses concert. Then my second... and my third and fourth.

There are so many other things, some of them not appropriate for all readers (feel free to ask).
Well, less time being spent in the past, and time to make some future. None the less, if you run across the WABAC Machine, let me know.