A Life in Limbo

Pay It Forward.. If You Dare

2012-01-25T09:10:00.001-05:00

Pay It Forward... If You Dare

I have personal traditions. Little, personal, things that I do regularly that I typically don't share with the masses. I also have a pretty large set of mantras and things that I use to help me guide me through my day and my life in general. I think we all have those whether we recognize them or not.

I'm a firm believer in paying it forward.. someone does something nice for me, I feel obligated (most of the time, anyway) to turn it around to do something nice for someone else. Call it Karma, or whatever, but it gives me a balance in my life. Now, let's be realistic here for a moment.. *MOST* of the nice things we do for people go unnoticed, and for me, it's the element of anonymous surprise that fulfills my karma-quota. I do not feel the need for recognition, or a "thank-you" or a pat on the back for doing something unexpectedly nice for someone.. in fact, I have pretty strong feelings about those that REQUIRE recognition.. but that, my friends, is another post.

So, to get back to the purpose of this particular post... personal traditions. Like I said, I don't share my personal traditions with folks, usually, because.. well, they wouldn't be personal if I shared them, would they? But I'll make an exception today because I believe I have an important message to share.

Every morning on my way to work, I stop at the Starbuck's that across the street from my office. This has been a daily ritual for the past four years. They know me there, they have my "Venti Pike" ready by the time I get to the counter, and they ALWAYS greet me with a pleasant smile and tell me to have a great day. (Hmm.. "have a great day".. that urks me too.. but again, another post).

My personal tradition is an annual pay-it-forward tradition that I do on (or very close to) my birthday. I go into my favorite Starbuck's, give the Barista a $10 bill, to pay for as many drinks as it will cover for the folks that come in behind me (probably only two or three at most). So, this morning, I implemented my annual plan since I'm taking the next couple of days off. I got my coffee, and headed over to the "fixing station" to cream and sugar my coffee.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned to see the guy who was behind me in line -- he was about 35ish, wearing a suit, and overcoat. I said hello to him and his reply completely floored me. "I don't need, want, or appreciate you buying my coffee." After a moment of disbelief, I replied, "Oh, well I certainly didn't mean to offend you in any way. I just do that..." Interrupting me, he shoved three dollars in my hand and said, "I don't need to hear your fucking sob story. I'll pay for my own Goddamned coffee and don't need your charity." And he walked out.

I didn't know if I should be offended, angry, hurt, or sad for him. Stunned, I walked outside and lit my cigarette, and stood outside my office building reviewing the situation that had just occurred. I spent a few moment listening to my internal dialogue: "Some folks are simply assholes, I concluded. In fact, I decided that mankind is full of assholes that don't know what graciousness is. Why should I care? Why do I go out of my way to be nice to people?? Fuck this.. so much for feeling good about doing something nice for people... this little tradition ends today!!"

And then, when I thought all hope for humanity was lost, it redeemed itself in the form of a young man of about 20 years old who crossed the street and came up to me. He said hello, and said the following [I'm paraphrasing a little]:

"I just saw what happened to you in Starbucks. I was behind that asshole in line. I saw you outside and wanted to come over and say thank you for buying my latte. I've heard about people doing this at Starbuck's during the holidays, but it's never happened to me before. I just wanted to say that you deserve a thank you, and tell you how much it means to me to see someone being nice to strangers for no reason."

Ok.. so my faith in humanity was restored and as we parted, he shook my hand and said...

"Have a great day!"

The Bardy Bunch

2011-08-26T06:23:00.000-04:00

The Bardy Bunch

The War of the Families Partridge and Brady

New York, NY (08/19/2011): A long time buddy of mine, Writer/Producer Steve Garvey, first presented me with the Bardy Bunch pitch in a lengthy email in September of 2010 that expressed his desire to write a musical based on The Partridge and Brady families intertwined with lines from the Shakespeare. "Am I crazy?" he wrote, "and are you crazy enough to be involved"? Crazy like I fox, I thought to myself. I'm no stranger to Steve's work, and without admitting it publicly, probably one of his greatest fans. As a director, getting my hands on a "Garvey Piece" (as I refer to them) is major!

So, having exchanged emails with Steve for a few weeks discussing the production obstacles, and possible other challenges that a project of this size would bring with it we let the matter sit for a little while. Without warning a short time later (I believe it was mere weeks) a draft script was found in my inbox. Could it be that he actually hammered out an entire musical script in a matter of weeks? Yup... and here in lies the genius... in draft form, it was already strong enough to go to a reading. Which occurred a short time after that in NY.

The reading went extremely well, and the discussion afterwards lead me to be fully on board with the possibilities of bring the show to DC to develop and workshop. In the meantime, Steve submitted the show to, and got picked up at, the NY Fringe Festival, The Bardy Bunch grew legs before my very eyes and before I could say, "Marcia, Marcia, Marcia", the show was fully staffed, and in rehearsals to have its debut in Mid-August. I learned a valuable lesson: When Steve says the words "fast-tracking", take him seriously! Alas, into production it went, and I had the privilege of attending on August 19th.

####

The Bardy Bunch

Ellen Stewart Theater at La Mama, NYC - 08/19/2011

First let me say, that festivals are no easy task where production is concerned. You are faced with often insurmountable obstacles that I've seen completely destroy productions.. not to mention the spirits of those involved. Scheduling, space considerations, technical limitations, and what ever else can be thrown at you all exist ten fold in a festival environment. And to overcome them takes determination, skill, and a LOT of creativity.

Despite all of the obstacles that I knew about, and those that I didn't know about, this show was simply brilliant. Jay Stern (Director) artfully worked the eighteen member cast through a tight and metered comedy without missing too many steps. Stern & Garvey lucked out with a cast that not only looked the parts, but were capable singers to boot. Two particular stand outs were Erik Keiser as the crowd-adoring, all-roads-lead-to-a-song Keith Partridge for his command of the little Keith-like nuances, and Annie Watkins for her stunning performance as Jan Brady. Watkins, in particular, truly captured the the spotlight with a dead-on portrayal of the always second fiddle, and often desperate Jan.

Musical director Logan Medland masterfully put together a mix of musical tracks and live piano without which, this show would not have worked. Of note were the mashups (the interweaving of two different songs) that were nothing shy of brilliance.

My initial fears about whether or not the audience would "get" the Shakespearean tags, and references were dashed by Steve's expert ability to seamlessly interject these references at not only appropriate times, but in a way that paid homage to the Bard while advancing the story without allowing a dip in flow. Simply masterful. And I should add the the decision to basically kill everyone with just the right amount of squirting blood was perfect.

Technically, the show left a lot to be desired, but at no fault of the production staff. I saw a number of missed opportunities, technically - lighting was limited to four or five area washes (for instance) which did serve the show relatively well, but didn't allow any specialization which would have really punched scenes. However, these limitations took absolutely nothing away from the audience's engagement.

The post-buzz of the audience waiting outside of the house was exciting. Audience members spoke of relating to the TV shows that they grew up with. Clearly the show sparked a comfort-zone with the crowd, and I haven't had such an entertaining night of theater in a long time. It's no secret that I'm difficult to please -- especially in a festival setting (which I hate), but spending an evening with the families Brady and Partridge left me not only entertained, but fulfilled.

Steve's ability to fast-track "Bardy" from script to stage proves that he is a master of his craft.. not only as an ingenious writer, but as an overall production talent. His eye is keen, and his works are nothing shy of artful. I look forward to the future of The Bardy Bunch and whatever tricks Steve has up his sleeve in the near future.

BRAVO!

#####

Eulogy for a Friend

2011-08-22T08:11:00.000-04:00

Prediablo (1997-2011)

Eulogy for a Friend

Preamble: I think it's fair to say that anyone that has pets will relate to today's blog. I think it's also fair to say that anyone that has lost a pet will understand how difficult it can be -- especially when there's longevity involved. A eulogy for a pet? Sure, why not? We become as emotionally attached to our pets as we do others, and (probably more importantly) it's cathartic -- for me anyway -- to write. So please indulge me for a few minutes.

Prediablo came to us from a family friend who had found that the cat apparently didn't particularly like being left alone while our friend was at work. He made that clear by "leaving his mark" on her bed and shoes. Dubbed "Diablo" by our friend, she asked Eddie if we wanted to adopt him. We already had a more mature cat, "Lincoln" and Eddie invited our friend over to introduce us to Diablo.

She arrived one evening at our house with a shoe-box out of which popped a little fuzzball with ears that were WAY too big for his little head. He was no bigger than a palm-full, and his yellow eyes pierced through the long black fur like little lightening bolts. Clearly, this cat was not leaving the house that night, and there was no way in hell I was going to let this animal go. For the rest of his life, by the way, he preferred to shove his entire body into the smallest of shoe boxes, and probably had the best naps in them.

We renamed him "Prediablo" appending the devilish existing name with part of the name of Eddie's favorite runner, Steve Prefontain. "Pre" as we referred to him, was an odd child. At a very young age, he apparently suffered from

narcolepsy. This little bundle of energy would run around the house, then stop and drop for a nap. Only for a moment or so, then wake up and resume his exploration.

As years went on, Pre discovered that he was quite fond of the taste of electrical wires. It didn't matter what type, style, color, or what was attached to it.. (or how expensive the equipment was).. what did matter was that filled a niche -- a satisfying pastime. Hundreds of dollars of replacement equipment, and power cords later he truly lived up to his diabolical name.

In the end though, it was his unconditional, unwavering love and his desire to be loved that will be most remembered. His plumed tail was often his identifying mark that let you know that he was in the room (or that he was in between you and the TV). His prominent placement on my chest every evening when I went to bed, and his persistent (but gentle) reach of his paw on my face to remind me he was still there was his trademark, and what cemented the bond that we had together. Certain words said to him often prompted a pat of his paw to my mouth... he identified, and in his way, told me he understood.

Pre was a caretaker.. and when Eddie or I were not feeling well, Pre made it a point to be as close to us as possible. His loud purr served as a calming reverberation that often helped sooth our pain, and for me.. often lulled me to sleep.

Most of us would do anything for our pets, and think nothing of personal sacrifice for them. But what's most painful is when you're in a position of not being able to save them. The unconditional love that a pet has had for you their entire life is diminished to a desperation and helplessness in their eyes. A plead for you to make it better... but sometimes we can't.. and in Pre's case, it was too late.

Making the decision to sign a piece of paper to end your pets life is traumatic. The floods of memories, and pictures all flash through your brain at once and with the wave of a pen it's done and you're left carrying an empty carrier home. It's a feeling that's as empty as the carrier in your hand.

Prediablo will be remembered by most that met him as a beautiful, gentle animal. Eddie and I will remember him as loving, caring, and gentle soul with a love of shoe-boxes.

Theater at the Beach.. an Adventure

2011-08-15T21:30:00.004-04:00

Theater at the Beach.. an Adventure

You all know what I guru I am where theater is concerned, so while making my annual pilgrimage to my favorite beach area in Delaware a few weeks ago, I opted to attend a performance of Clear Space Theater Company’s production of “Broadway: 100 Years”. Now, before you groan too loudly, let me defend my choice! I love all theater and classic (also known as “Standard”) theater, while less spectacular by today’s standards, is still one of my favorites. “The Good Old Shows” as I refer to them are the root of all theater, and the breading ground that morphed into the grand spectaculars we see today. So an evening of standards presented by a live theater company was right up my alley.

You all probably also know that I am a ruthless, critical, demanding audience member with impeccably high standards. Let’s face it, where theater is concerned, I’m a VERY tough person to impress. I’m not shy about pointing out mistakes, slip-ups, technical glitches, and other less favorable anomalies that, admittedly, are often unavoidable during live shows. This, I suppose, comes from my years as a theater director and the quest the perfection that I believe every director should pride him (or her) self on. I don’t believe there is any room for error, and strive to impart that dedication to every member of my production staff – that’s probably why some folks won’t work with me again… hmmm.. *BUT* that’s another post.

So let’s put it together before the curtain goes up: 1) Community Theater; 2) Small Beach Town; 3) “Company” Theater (that means the same people do many shows throughout the season); 4) Company Theater currently rotating two (2) full-scale shows and one (1) review show on a six-day a week rotation. If you do the math, it’s a recipe for disaster .

THE SCENE: Newly built theater. On closer inspection: Newly Built Multipurpose space. It’s a theater, and artist residence, and art gallery, and working pottery studio, and working painting studio. Cool, but lots going on. The theater is a flat “ballroom” with 100 or so folding chairs (that should have told me something). Down the main aisle is an empty stage with a backdrop that has advertisements being projected on the screen from the back of the house – do I need to explain what “focus” means? “Charlie’s Rental Units... the Best Bet at the Beach.” Dear God… here we go.

THE SET: Um, no set... well kind of a set: two hanging banners with “scene of the ages” type art, suspended by wires from the catwalk… no... roof. Ingeniously created so that as the years pass, they can be flipped around with a NEW “scene of the ages” type art that looked just like the last one. Ugh. This “set” has a tendency to swing back and forth... particularly the one on stage right – especially when someone walks by it. Apparently, that’s the only exit from the stage... stage right... because EVERYONE walked by it. Humph.

THE ACTORS: Mind you... a handful of actors that are probably over tired from their other two productions they’re in. “What’s today? Saturday? Ahh, it’s the Broadway show tonight.” Kudos for the attempt, but the result leaves some “excitement” out of the performance. More on that later... So, the actors are what I’d call your run-of-the-mill stereotypical character actors. What I mean by this is that you could “label” (very politically incorrect... but I don’t care) each actor as a type of player. So the eight person cast was comprised of the following predictable lot:

The overweight male comic actor;
The male older “I’m still in it” theater type;
The young, hunky, stud - male lead type (looks great, but can’t dance and can’t act... BUT he sure looks good);
The over-actor (everything’s too big from smile to dance steps);
The Diva (female who gets all the lead songs. She knows she’s good so she overdoes it until she’s no longer good);
The Diva wannabe (female still trying... but not quite good enough. Should probably be the Diva, until she becomes good enough to become not good); The Diva’s Competition (Good, but clearly never gets the chance with the Diva in the company); and
The Forgettable (is there, but you never really notice her…. WAIT… nope wasn’t her).

THE BAND: Piano, Bass, Drums. Your basics without any real talent amongst them, but hey, they CAN read music.

Piano = “Musical Director” who CAN play, just not really well.
Drums = Oh? Was that a drum or the pounding of my foot trying to keep the band in tempo?
Bass = Seems like the bass players are always last minute stand in’s as evident by the Musical Director mouthing things like “KEY OF G” to him. Nothing like a bass coming in on the wrong key… geez.

THE LIGHTING: Um... moving on….

THE SHOW: Picture this... one actor, center stage is the (usually too dim) spotlight announcing the era of the next few songs... the script goes something like this... and no, I’m not kidding:

“ And now we’d like to present songs from the golden age of theater. With hits from shows like Gypsy, The Music Man, Bye Bye Birdie and Call Me Madame.”

Blackout. Song, Song, Song, Song... Blackout. Then:

“And now we’d like to present songs from Modern Age of theater. With hits from show like……”

Over and over and over again. It might as well have been a commercial on late night TV for the latest “songs from years gone by” album.

THE PERFORMANCE: Now here’s my favorite part because this is where the true entertainment lies in my eyes. No, no, I won’t talk about flat or pitchy notes, or slightly off tempo dances, or even the perpetual swinging “scene of the ages” sign. Let’s begin with believability. A love song between a man and a woman (Love song from Ms. Saigon) that had the chemistry of oil and water. In fact, I’m not sure they touched each other once… no hand holding, not looking in each other’s eyes... just kind of singing AT each other. Odd, very odd. Then there was the song between the Diva and the “Older Man” singing “I Loves You Porgy” from Porgy and Bess, um… huh? No, no, no. Didn’t work for me. Song after song was a mismatch of characters singing at each other because they were told to, not because they wanted to. Each one worse than the next in pitchy, flat-footed, drivel of someone’s attempt at an evening of entertainment. Someone left a boa (yes, left over from “My Heart Belongs To Daddy” from Leave it to Me) on stage, and there it stayed through “Bali Ha’i” from South Pacific two or three songs later.

The Finale... (which could not have come soon enough) was --- wait for it ---- “Take a Chance on Me” from Mamma Mia! But that’s NOT the best part – no, the best part of the entire evening for me was not the missed lighting cues, simply flat performances, laughable script or swinging sign... NO! The evening appropriately culminated in an upbeat, sing along….WHEEEE… my favorite!!

And to make my venture out to a night of live theater so well worth the $25 admission price, Mr. Studly, male, leading man type, performed "Take a Chance On Me"... the entire song, and dance, and sing along with his fly open exposing his blue briefs.

A better night of theater was never had... well, maybe not

Work vs. Life

2011-01-25T09:33:00.000-05:00

Work vs. Life

My name is Tony Wynne, and I'm a workaholic... [insert statement of my name en mass]. It's been well over 30 years since my last confe.... oh, wait, wrong dialogue. I always get confession and blogging mixed up.. take that as you will.

Seriously though, I blog today to seek advise from you, My Dear Readers. I *DO* have a serious problem on my hands, and it's gotten to the point where I'm just not sure how to handle it. It's my hope that you can shed some light on the topic, and possibly help me through what I consider a major dilemma.

I am constantly working. At work, at home, in my sleep, every waking moment involves something to do with my job. This isn't required, requested, or even endorsed by my place of employment -- in fact, they often talk about work/life balance (whatever the fuck that is) but it happens just the same.

A website defines Workaholism as: "Workaholism can be described as the inability to stop working. Whether you are in the office, at home, in bed, or socializing, if you find that you cannot stop thinking about work or talking about work, then you are likely a workaholic."

Recently, I've come to attack this issue head-on, and make an attempt at determining the cause (and resolution) of this frustrating and, frankly, exhausting phenomenon but I'll admit, it's more complicated than simply "leaving work at work". I've taken a good hard look at a couple of work-related traits of mine: Ethics; Control; approval and the desire to succeed. Here's what I've learned about myself by looking at each of these:

Ethics: My father once said to me, "nothing is worth doing if you don't do it well". True enough. My work ethics drive my professional life, as they should. I strive to be on time regardless of the cost to myself or others. I believe that deadlines are deadlines for a reason.. and they should be met (again, regardless of costs). And while I learned this one the hard way, I believe that honesty and transparency are critical to project and personal success. This is why I'll never be good a politics.

Control: In or out of the office, my desire to maintain control mandates that I always know what's going on in my office, and with my staff. Decisions that impact my program that are made without my knowledge are simply not acceptable. Of course, much of this is a direct result of the current corporate culture that strives on inconsistency, and lack of communication. Nothing urks me more than to take a day off, and return to learn that major programmatic decisions were made without my knowledge. This control fuels my need to remain available to staff when on vacation, or other leave time.

Approval: I'm not a demanding person. As a manager, I don't expect my staff to do anything during the work day that I wouldn't sit down and do myself. However, it's overly important to me that everything I do, or that my staff does, is quality work. There should be no room for error, or sloppiness. This, I've recently realized, comes from my inane desire for approval. The incredible need for everything I do to be considered "good work". I won't get into the immense, crushing, self-loathing that occurs when something I do isn't good enough. (That's another blog entry).

Desire to Succeed: While I'm widely considered a mellow, calm person.. but my desire to succeed often surprises people. Success isn't about making money, the residual material things I can afford, my job title, or how big my office is. Rather, success equals happiness. I judge my success on how happy I am with what I do, who I do it for, and how content I am overall. This is a tall order, because we humans have a need to repeatedly improve, and grow. We're never happy with what we have, we always want more. How does this relate to my topic? Easy... I have gravitated to employers that are usually disfunctional, and this fuels my need to "fix" the system, people, culture, program or project. Is this a reasonable request? No.. but combined with the ethics, control, and approval I talked about above, it's a recipe for unhappiness. So here I am....

So, combined, these four traits lead me to work 11-12 hours a day "on the books" and another 12 hours "off the books". I figure it's high time, I get a handle on how I work, and hopefully learn something from all of you.

So now, it's your turn. Please give me your honest thoughts, comments, advise, remedies... whatever you can. I'll accept them all with an open mind, and an appreciative heart. If you prefer to contact me directly, feel free: tony@skyward.org.

Thanks ahead of time for your comments.

...NOW GET BACK TO WORK! ;)

Are You Kidding Me?????

2010-12-07T09:44:00.000-05:00

It’s been a long time since I wrote in my blog, and for that, I apologize. Sometimes, life gets in the way of life, and mitigating the constant battle between the two is difficult enough without the unexpected drudgery of inexcusable actions inflicted upon us by other human beings. That having been said, I’m sadly reminded that life wouldn’t be the same without having to deal with other people’s stupidity.

Case in point: I was friended by an old early-high school buddy of mine on Facebook recently. At the time, we were very good friends and I often wondered what ever happened to him. I was genuinely excited to hear from him. We exchanged our pleasantries, and caught up a little bit.

Weeks went by with occasional comments to each other’s posts and all seemed fine enough. We even exchanged emails because he wanted to “stay in touch”. Now, keep in mind, my dear readers, I make no apologies for who I am, for my lifestyle, or for who my friends are.. and frankly, if anyone wishes to “de-friend” me on facebook, I *really* will not lose any sleep over it. In fact, PLEASE feel free to dump me if you can’t handle it. The beauty of “de-friending” is that no one really needs to know -- you simply fade into the past from where you originally came from.

But no, this adolescent, simple-minded, mother-fucker, decides it’s a good idea to send me an email with a full explanation of why he no longer wants to be my friend on facebook and regretfully, I deleted the email in a fit of offensive rage after reading it. In a nutshell, this dude “doesn’t converse with faggots”. He “didn’t realize I had decided to become queer”, and had he known he “wouldn’t have friended me”. He was “ashamed that some of [his] friends may have seen that he friended a fag”.

SERIOUSLY?

Clearly, I opted to refrain from fueling this idiotic, stupidity with a reply. But, for me, this incident reminds me that hate never really goes away. I’m saddened by the fact that some people simply never grow up. It also saddens me to think that my lifestyle can’t be fully enjoyed because of this kind of thinking. My community still has to endure attacks like this every day.

I’m reminded of having hate letters appear in my office at a prior job that made me so scared to come to work, I had to leave the job. I’m reminded of hearing people whispering gay related slurs just loud enough for me to hear them when I was in college. I’m reminded how cowardly people can be. But more than anything, I’m reminded that I’m lucky.

I’m lucky that I have the support of brothers and sisters in a community that watch after each other.

I’m lucky that my experiences were never physically harmful to me, despite the cruelty.

I’m lucky that I’ve always had the love and support of my partner to make me feel safe in a world that is too often anything but safe.

As for my facebook buddy? Prior to being de-friended, I took a look through his friends list to see if we had any mutual friends. We have one friend in common, and oddly enough, that friend works for the Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) … hmm, did I forward that email before I dumped it???

Yup, I did.

Noise

2010-08-25T08:24:00.000-04:00

"Noise"

It's quiet, it's calm, it's the break of dawn when only the occasional cry of seagulls echo in the morning fog. They crow, they screech, they call in a seemingly endless search never to find an outcome and like all living things, they go about their business doing their thing -- their purpose unknown -- just like ours. The sound is identical to the sounds I grew up with, and they transport me back to a simpler time.

The water is still, with wind-driven ripples dancing this way and that like a slow monochromatic wet waltz. Lapping against the boat hulls breaking the silence with its liquid splat and as soon as the sound dies, it is replaced by the next -- consistent, and continual.

All at once, the northern breeze wooshes in and creates a unexpected chorus much like that of a orchestra warming up at the start of an opera. Excitement builds as the instruments of nature begin to tune. The flagpole lines "ting" against the metal pole, the trees rustle and bow in their pre-show warmups, the wind brushes the surface of the water. Then just as the wind reaches its climax, the instruments go silent.

It's easy to understand what peace is and it's easy to conceptualize the notion of achieving peace of mind. Dramaless, stressless, and pure... nature provides us its own prozac... if only more people knew how to prescribe.

Suppertime

2010-08-15T07:18:00.000-04:00

To the uninitiated, Eddie and I have been together for almost 13 years and throughout our relationship, we've sort of assigned duties when it comes to making dinner. That is to say that I do the cooking, and Eddie is the "cleaner"... it just seems to work out better for both of us with that arrangement. This agreement was forged after the "breakfast event" of 2000. I need not go into more details, except to say that since then, I did the cooking.

Those of you who know Eddie would agree that no matter what he does, he means well, and his intentions are 100% pure in everything he puts his mind to. There's an innocence about him that either makes you want to hug and hold, or slap him silly (with love intended, only). Slapping or hugging, you can't not adore him.

On an annual basis, I am given about a week's notice that he is making dinner. This means that he hits the cookbooks and begins the planning stages of his culinary masterpiece. He is thorough with his research, and begins to formulate his master plan for his menu. I never know what to expect from him, and he remains tight lipped about the menu.

On the day of he dinner, I am essentially banned from the kitchen. Now, I don't need to tell you, and those of you that cook know what I mean, this is difficult for me. But I do my best to let him do his thing, and I remain out of view except for a few "check-ins" throughout the process. This is really to ensure he hasn't cut off a finger or something. Eddie and knives, just makes my hair stand on end.

The Menu:

Spring Salad with Apples and Raspberry Vinaigrette Dressing
Grilled Shrimp with Teriyaki Sauce

Roast Beef with Asparagus

De-cobbed corn & Mashed Potatoes

Angel Food Cake, Chocolate & Raspberries

THE REVEAL:

Needless to say, dinner was superbly presented (an Eddie specialty), and surprisingly good all the way around. His devotion to making the best meal possible was obvious, and I could not be more proud of a dinner made out of love. My little Julia Child often surprises me.. and this was no exception.

**Between you and me, I think it's time to graduate Eddie to making dinner TWICE next year!!**

God's Laws

2010-04-14T21:17:00.000-04:00

"God Said It. I believe it. That Settles It"

Once again, thanks to my cousin Dina for passing this on

On her radio show, Dr Laura Schlesinger (a popular conservative radio talk show host in the USA ) said that homosexuality is an abomination according to the Bible, Leviticus 18:22, and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following response is an open letter to Dr. Laura, penned by a US resident, which was posted on the Internet.

Dear Dr. Laura:

Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination... End of debate.

I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God's Laws and how to follow them:

1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighbouring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?

2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?

3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of menstrual unseemliness - Lev.15: 19-24. The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offence.

4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odour for the Lord - Lev.1:9.. The problem is my neighbours. They claim the odour is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?

5. I have a neighbour who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2. clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?

6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination - Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there 'degrees' of abomination?

7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle- room here?

8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev.19:27. How should they die?

9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?

10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)

I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I am confident you can help.

Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging.

Your adoring fan,

James M. Kauffman, Ed.D.
Professor Emeritus Dept. of Curriculum, Instruction, and Special Education,
University of Virginia

Gay v. Str8

2010-03-30T06:34:00.002-04:00

Gay v. Str8

I almost find it offensive that recent news events of a celebrity "coming out" is even news worthy and frankly, other than being a publicity stunt to sell a book or more records, no one really cares. In fact, its this kind of attention makes it more clear to me that equality is just a flicker of a dream. Is it news when a celebrity "comes out" as being straight? No, because it's expected. Thus lies the inequality.

The bottom line is that who one chooses to hold hands with in public doesn't matter. Let's face it, really, no one really gives a shit if a male celebrity is seen getting close with a female companion. But let that same celebrity be seen holding hands on the beach with another male, and all hell (and rumors) breaks loose.

Now, don't get me wrong, it takes a lot of guts to come out publicly as being gay... and I respect anyone that has the courage to do so. But is it news worthy? No. Just the concept of having to "come out" automatically makes it dubious and "different". I'll be happy when no one has to come out.... when it's simply OK for people to be who they are without fanfare and notice. Give me a break here.

So, let's move on to other stupidity. Other stories that piss me off to no end:

Constance McMillen, 18, wanted to bring her girlfriend and wear a tux to her Mississippi school's prom. As a result, the prom was cancelled. She is now engaged in a legal battle with the school district.
A set of parent in Georgia kicked their gay teenager out of the house because he made the egregious mistake of standing up for his rights in the face of homophobia. Derrik Martin asked the school district to allow him to bring his male date to the prom and was approved, but his parents reportedly thought he brought bad publicity to the family, so they booted him to the curb.

I won't get on my soapbox about the lack of parenting skills, and complete stupidity that adults show towards our GLBT teens, but I will say this:

If you believe that a celebrity coming out is more important than basic human rights, then your priorities are fucked up.

Dancing

2010-03-27T08:51:00.000-04:00

DANCING

I'm not a dancer... in fact, I did dance once, but was told that I really should do that in public. Oh well. Odd for someone like me who loves music so much to essentially not have a rhythmic bone in my body. Again, oh well. Dancing is one of the most telling activities us humans can engage in. It's raw, sensual, and for most, it's the purest form of expression. Despite my being banned from participating in this activity, I do enjoy watching those of you that CAN dance. It's a glimpse into the core of who you are, that uninhibited expression driven by the chest-thumping beat that motivates, invigorates, and pushes your bodies to the edge of extreme pleasure.

In the eighties and early nineties, I attended a number of Grateful Dead concerts. This forum, for those that never had the chance to attend one, was one that was based on exhibitionism, free-self expression and of course, unabashed movement. Besides the music, my favorite activity at a Dead concert was to play voyeur and watch the varied, complicated, interpretations of movement that mirrored the jamming on stage. Despite the fact that there were many drug induced activities going on, the core of the event remained the same.. freedom. Freedom to do as you please without a single person (in a crowd of thousands) passing judgment on you for how you moved, how you looked, or how you chose to enjoy the concert. Needless to say, should you decide to jump up and down at your seat and wave your arms in a fluid interpretive dance -- that was ok. I was a fan of the "Dead-Bob" where your feet hardly move, but your legs and upper body move to the music. Yeah, don't try to vision me doing that, it's not pretty. More than the sightings of what many would call "oddities" or "strangeness", the beauty of being at a Dead concert was Community & Safety. You knew that you were cared for, and that we all had a common bond.

There are more styles of dance then there are styles of music. Why? Because with each musical style comes numerous interpretations of it in movement. Each one of which is personal. We all bring our own special "quirk" to movement. We all walk, talk, and listen slightly differently, and this equals individualism of movement. The same music is heard differently by different ears and is expressed differently through each of our hearts and our hearts are the transistors that interpret that inane need to move, to tap our feet, to bob our heads, and to do the "dead-bob".

Media has exposed all of us to styles we didn't even know existed and along the way has broadened our awareness of dance styles. I'm truly amazed that not only the level of talent that's out there in individual stylistic dancing, but the level of risk that dancers take. You've seen the Hip-Hop dancers that perform outrageous tricks must to the peril of their perfect landing. You've seen the gymnast - turned - contemporary dancer that leaps across the stage as of in a swan dive only to curl and flip before planting their feet perfectly on the stage. And you've seen the classical dancers in a Vienna Waltz, that seems so fast and smooth that you'd think they would simply float off the stage ignoring the stamina that it takes to keep it up, and the control it takes to maintain the rhythm and pace.

I'd by lying if I said that I don't care that I can't dance. To personally experience the feeling of my body expressing music through dance would be a dream come true, but I've long since given up that dream. Instead, I revel in the beauty that is seeing others dance and as such, I have grown to have a deep appreciation for it.

So please, keep dancing, and learn a lesson from a dying community of Deadheads:

go forth and express yourselves as if no one else is watching.
Drop the vanity that seems inherent in most venues, and dance for yourselves, no one else.
Let your musical emotions drive your self-expression, and let it move you to movement -- all the while knowing that you will not be judged, but admired.

And more than anything else, PLEASE..

Keep Dancing!!

Perceptions

2010-03-09T20:39:00.000-05:00

PERCEPTION

Something to think about....

(Thanks to my cousin Dina for this... it says a lot)

Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007. The man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approx. 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.

4 minutes later:

The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

6 minutes:

A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

10 minutes:

A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.

45 minutes:

The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

1 hour:

He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition..

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities.

The questions raised:

*In a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?

*Do we stop to appreciate it?

*Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made…

How many other things are we missing?

This Too Shall Pass

2010-02-21T06:00:00.000-05:00

This Too Shall Pass

This is one of my favorite stories:

Once upon a time, a king called upon all of his wise men and asked them, “Is there a mantra or suggestion which works in every situation, in every circumstance, in every place and in every time? In every joy, every sorrow, every defeat and every victory? One answer for all questions? Tell me, is there such a mantra?”
All the wise men were puzzled by the king’s question. They thought and thought. After a lengthy discussion, an old man suggested something which appealed to all of them. The wise men handed the king a paper with four words written on it. These four words would ground the king in his triumphs and lift the King during his darkest hours.
The four words were: This too shall pass.
As the king read the words, he became enlightened.

Life certainly comes with plenty of ups and downs. On the so-called upside we experience promotions, new relationships, material things, wealth and so forth. On the so-called downside we experience layoffs, breakups, loss, financial hardship, death and so forth.

As it turns out, most people will find it hard to escape a little of each during the course of their life.

Most of us ride the roller coaster of life; our moods and levels of happiness are dictated by the situation at hand. We celebrate the upsides and bemoan the downside. In this perspective, I suppose that the end goal is experiencing more upsides than downsides.

I take a different approach. It’s not better or worse, just different. And for me, it’s more fulfilling and empowering.

I recognize that the upsides and downsides are part of this human experience. And that this experience is intrinsically beautiful and perfect. Regardless of my place on the roller coaster, I know that there are lessons to be learned and lives to touch.

For me, the secret is not letting my mood or level of happiness be dictated by the situation at hand. I know that true power comes from within, regardless of the circumstances around me. I base my happiness on the permanent, rather than the transient; as such, the undulations in my mood are usually minor and my level of happiness is usually quite high.

When the shit hits the fan, I remind myself that this too shall pass. And when Lady Luck smiles on me in a special way, I remind myself that this too shall pass.

Eulogy

2010-02-05T08:56:00.000-05:00

My Hero

(Eulogy for Dad)

09/19/1922 - 01/29/2010

Everyone has a hero. They are the courageous, the brave, and the rocks that hold us up. My father was my hero; he was my own personal superman.

It’s surreal to me that I’d be standing here today to deliver this message of love and respect. Heroes don’t die... they’re not supposed to. My father was invincible, resilient, and forever the pillar of hope and stability. I remember as a kid admiring his strength (and his tennis game) and I knew that when I grew up, I wanted to be just like him… what little boy doesn’t want to be just like his dad? And when I DO grow up, I still want to be just like him.

More than anything, dad taught me compassion and patience… the greatest gifts a father can give to a child. Though his compassion was occasionally masked in dry sarcasm, to be in the presence of his love was to be completely and totally embraced.

I cannot begin to explain my father’s complex humor except to say that should you find a boat on your front lawn, poles sticking out of your chimney, a rusty motor in your car, or a pair of mannequin legs on your porch – you know you’d been hit by the best… you have been “WYNNED”.

I’d like to share with you a profound moment between my father and I. I gave a benefit concert in this very room 14 years ago. After the concert, while greeting people, Dad pulled me aside took me in his arms and through tears in his eyes he whispered, “you have no idea how proud I am of you. I will never forget this.” A seemingly small gesture, but a huge impact on me and it changed my relationship with him forever.

Dad and I shared a very special bond. Any given month would not be complete without a call from dad to hold our monthly Technology Troubleshooting session – popup resolution, usually-- and up to the end, he kept up with email, processed photographs, and yes, he could even be found on facebook. His love of the unknown shined in his love of technology. We also shared a special bond regarding Rogane, but I’ll spare you that story.

We all grew up being addressed by dad with a combination of names. Joan was “ConTonJoan”, Connie was “JoanTonCon”, and I was “JoanConTon”. And when our cats pippin and tigger came on board, I became: “JoanConPipTigTon”… you get the idea…It was a term of endearment and was never thought of as anything else but that.

Heroes cast a net of safety, of security, so the people of Metropolis can sleep at night knowing they are protected. That was the protection that dad provided for all of us. We could put our heads down at night feeling secure, and loved, and knew that in the morning, “Mr. Perfect” would be there to usher in the day with his famous grin and unending wit, and we NEVER questioned HIS perfection.

I mentioned patience earlier. There is no truer word that could be used to describe this man, and I’m living proof of it. I’m the poster child for trying his patience and despite whatever predicament I got myself into, he always assured and calmed me and ALWAYS stood by me. That was his nature and he would do the same for anyone whether they needed his attention or not.

The past few days have given me a tremendous amount of respect for the most important thing in dad’s life.. family & friends. The number of people that dad’s life has touch is beyond awe inspiring. And it occurred to me, that Dad is not MY personal hero, this hero belongs to all of us. His superpowers impacted all of us in so many different ways. But in the end, his heart was too large or too full.

Dad, you’ll be terribly missed, but you’ll always be loved and forever in my heart and soul. Thank you for being my hero! Thank you for being OUR hero.

The Birthday Wish

2010-01-26T05:56:00.001-05:00

1966

Forty-four years later, I sit in front of my computer writing this blog entry, and thinking about the past. There were so many highs, and so many lows.. but I suppose that's part of the game of life. Birthdays come and go, and year after year, I find myself searching (yet again) for those things that provide meaning. I don't think it's a secret to any of you, my dear readers, that this year has been a struggle. The drudge of daily routines, the constant quest for change, and the need for emotional / spiritual fulfillment has worn me to an almost full-stop.

I'm not a fan of birthdays, or holidays, or special events.. they only serve a small percentage of those involved while the rest of us must endure the politics of pretending we're happy to have been invited at all. However, birthdays, in particular, do serve an important function in our lives: they are reminders of those things we have yet to accomplish. The "should-a; could-a, would-a's" of our lives become our mantras for the coming year / years.

I do have a birthday wish this year, and it involves everyone who is reading this blog. My wish, though not a new concept to any of you, is to teach and to learn. You've heard me say it before, but, I believe it's worth repeating:

Take a moment to teach someone something every week

Take a moment to learn something from someone every week

That's my birthday wish for myself and for each one of you. And so, in the spirit of my birthday, I thought I'd ask you to join me for a little trip to the past. The year is 1966, and here is a little look back.....

Inflation grew as part of the effect to fund the war in Vietnam continued. Both the US and USSR continued in their space race to see who would be the first to land a man on the moon. Race riots continued to increase across cities in America and National Guards were needed to bring back law and order. The fashions in both America and UK came from a small well known street in London ( Carnaby Street ) part of the swinging London scene , both women and men wore patterned pants and flowered shirts and boots, shoes and even caps utilized the plastic and vinyl for a wet shiny look. The most popular groups included The "Beach Boys" with Pet Sounds, The "Rolling Stones" with Under my Thumb and The "Beatles" with Revolver, and Yesterday and Today.

Average Cost of new house $14,200.00

Average Income per year $6,900.00

Gas per Gallon 32 cents

Average Cost of a new car $2,650.00

Popular Culture

Star Trek first episode of the science fiction television series Star Trek
Author Jacqueline Susann has her first novel, Valley of the Dolls published
Dr. Seuss' "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" the animated television special adapted from the book is shown for first time on CBS
Simon and Garfunkel release Sounds of Silence,

Popular Films

Thunderball
Dr. Zhivago
Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
A Man for All Seasons

Popular Musicians

The Mamas and the Papas
The Beatles
The Monkees
The Beach Boys
The Rolling Stones
Simon and Garfunkel

Popular Songs

I'm a Believer -The Monkees
Good Vibrations - The beach Boys
Monday Monday - The Mamas and the Papas
Wild Thing - The Troggs

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another New Year....

2009-12-27T21:31:00.001-05:00

Happy New Year!

Sigh, what's to say? Another year has gone by... okay.. and? I mean really, does anyone out there really think that THIS year is going to be much different than the year before, and the one before that? Let's face it, New Year's Eve is only a reason to go out, get stupid, and promise ourselves that we won't do that again next year.. but we will. These days, I'm catching my ZZZ's LONG before midnight anyway, and though every year I go to bed on New Year's Eve wondering what changes will have occurred as a result of the new year.. every year I wake up and nothing has changed.

Now, I know there are some of my dear readers out there that have enrolled in the "but it's what you make of it" school of life, and far be it for me to take anything away from that. You're free to engage how ever you wish to engage. I take a rather cognitive approach.. one that involves figuring out the meaning of life as it applies to me -- of course, it's possible the meaning of life doesn't apply to me -- maybe that's not for me to figure out at all... who knows? But that's the point...

I know that come January 1st, I will be back to the grind of 45 - 60 hour work weeks, in an environment that is largely unappreciative of the concept of a "work ethic" and of individualism. I'll be back to consuming the same number of cigarettes I smoked last year, and while it would be nice to quit, I'd like the insurance companies to help me pay for it. I'll be wondering where I should be and why and figuring out if a change is self-imminent or if it will be thrust upon me like H1N1, hunting me down when I'm most vulnerable.

Let's face it.. we give the "New Year's Resolution" .... um.. thing, too much credit. Actually, we give ourselves too much credit. We repeatedly "wish for / think of / dream of / resolve to" all these things that we either have no intention of achieving, or we attempt to resolve to do things we simply cannot possibly obtain. Personally, I gave up on the "world peace" thing years ago. I guess that's the magic of a New Year's resolution, "Here's a list of all the things that I can't possibly do and wouldn't do even if I could."

SO.. that having been said.. during the course of writing this post, I have conjured up a list of my New Year's Resolutions for 2010. All of which are attainable, doable, and entirely within the scope of my capacity. I should mention here that ALL of the following items are within reach of everyone reading this post.. as such, I encourage you to consider them:

1. Learn to respect the differences between myself and other people

2. Go out of my way once a month to do ONE thing, that REALLY helps another person

3. Teach someone something as often as I can

4. Learn from those around me as often as I can

5. Tell someone I love them a little more often (and mean it)

6. Sing once a week (even if its in my head)

7. Laugh every so often and make someone else do the same

I appreciate your frequenting my little slice of the earth here on my blog. I wish you all a happy, healthy, safe New Year!!

All I Want For Christmas...

2009-12-15T05:24:00.000-05:00

to live in a country where pop media is a form of self-expression and not of mind control.

to live in a country where farmers are valued more than lawyers.

to live in a country where more money is spent on education than on war.

to live in a country where the public health is not determined by profit margins.

to live in a country where the bicycle industry is more heavily subsidized than the auto industry.

to live in a country where equal rights for a minority aren’t determined by the majority.

to live in a country where all citizens are treated as brothers and sisters.

to live in a country where violence is a bigger taboo than nudity.

to live in a country where salaries are determined by skill sets and experience, and not genitals.

to live in a country where the future of the planet is more important than past grievances.

That's not asking too much... is it?

Life

2009-12-01T05:48:00.000-05:00

Life is a funny thing. Just when you think you've got a handle on it, it finds a way to shift on you the result of which is the need to alter your course. Sailors would understand that life is like the wind -- without notice, and without warning, it turns on you forcing the captain of the boat to plot a different direction.

I'm no stranger to the complex and ever-changing alterations that life has to offer and like the Captain, I have shifted gears many times over the last 40 years. Some for good, some bad, some tragic, and some that were completely under my control. You see, the fact is, despite our feeling as if life is out of our control sometimes, we do have complete control over one thing -- reaction and how we handle those changes. Life deals you a crappy card, we learn to adjust and continue forward.

I've been profoundly lucky to have had many life-mentors that have taught me how to read the winds of change, and how best to accommodate the inevitable alterations that come with it. If we play those cards right, we can learn a lot from every person we come in contact with - but over the years, only two men have left a deep imprint on not only my life, but on my soul as well. There is a reason I chose these two men to be my life-partners -- I knew that I could grow with both of them, and I knew they would grow with me.

Our surroundings are ever-changing and over the years, Paul, Eddie, and I all morphed with every change that life sent our way. We adapted, learned, and kept watch over each other to ensure that life doesn't get the better of us. This is what a successful partnership is all about.

But in the end, it really comes down to one thing. Individualism. There is no map to plot the courses of our lives. There's no right or wrong way to live, there is only the power of learning with every step we take and whether you take those steps alone or with others your fulfillment is your destiny.

Enemies

2009-11-15T07:17:00.001-05:00

(forgiveness)

I recently came across the following little story. Oddly enough, little quips like this occasionally stick with me and make me think.

Toward the end of a Sunday service, the Minister asked, “How many of you have forgiven your enemies?”
All responded, except one small elderly lady.
“Mrs. Neely, Are you not willing to forgive your enemies?”
“I don’t have any”, she replied, smiling sweetly.
“Mrs. Neely, that is very unusual. How old are you?”
“Ninety-eight”, she replied. The congregation stood up and clapped their hands.
“Oh, Mrs. Neely, would you please come down in front and tell us all how a person can live ninety-eight years and not have an enemy in the world?”
The little sweetheart of a lady tottered down the aisle, faced the congregation, and said, “I outlived the bitches”.

While "outliving the bitches" is always an option, there is an easier alternative. You only need to forgive if you blame in the first place. And without blame, you’ll have no enemies. Blame is not a prerequisite for holding people accountable. People are responsible for their actions, but we are responsible for our reactions (including how we internalize or respond mentally and emotionally). We can also remember that people cannot act above their current level of consciousness; we cannot expect people to be more awake than they are. We often forget that people are doing the best they know how to do, given the circumstances of their lives at any given moment (this is true of ALL people regardless of who they are or what their socio-economic status).

So, all of us can have no enemies. The choice is ours.

And if all else fails, we can always outlive the bitches.

2009-10-29T07:49:00.002-04:00

President Barack Obama on Wednesday signed and celebrated hate crime legislation that extends protection to people based on sexual orientation, sealing a long-fought victory to gay advocates. The president spoke of a nation becoming a place where “we’re all free to live and love as we see fit.”

The bill is named for Matthew Shepard and James Byrd, whose family members stood with Obama. Shepard, a gay college student, was murdered and found tied to a fence in Wyoming in 1998. The same year, Byrd, a black man, was chained to a pickup by three white men and dragged to his death in Texas.

The new law expands federal hate crimes to include those committed against people because of gender, sexual orientation, gender identity or disability. It also loosens limits on when federal law enforcement can intervene and prosecute crimes, amounting to the biggest expansion of the civil-rights era law in decades.

“No one in America should ever be afraid to walk down the street holding the hands of the person they love,” Obama said in East Room reception, surrounded by joyous supporters. “No one in America should be forced to look over their shoulder because of who they are, or because they live with a disability.”

Civil rights groups and their Democratic backers on Capitol Hill have tried for a decade to expand the hate crimes law, but fell short because of a lack of coordination between the House and Senate, or opposition from President George W. Bush. This time, the bill got through when Democrats attached it to a must-pass $680 billion defense measure over the protests of Republicans. Obama signed the combined bill in a separate ceremony earlier on Wednesday.

Conservatives have opposed the legislation, arguing that it creates a special class of victims and could serve to silence clergymen or others opposed to homosexuality on religious or philosophical grounds.

So Much To Think About

2009-10-11T08:01:00.004-04:00

There's always so much going on at any given time. Work, social, dreams, wishes, frustrations, desires, angst and needs. It's not something that affects any one person, it's a human thing. Mitigation of the often conflicting issues that demand our attention at any given time is difficult. But, I suppose, that's what life is all about.

For me, work is a love-hate relationship. I am content with the core mission of my job, but the daily grind of it is irritating at its best. This is a human resource issue, pure and simple. Lack of clarity and the consistent waste of time and money makes me crazy. So I've thought about making a change. How seriously, however, is another thing. If I had my way, I'd go into business for myself, but loans, and capital currently prevent me for doing so.

Eddie has been heavily involved in his club which takes him away fairly often. I'm proud of his accomplishments and the leadership role he's taken with the club, community outreach, and personal growth. In our [almost] 12 years together, I've seen more change in him than I think I've ever seen in anyone else -- likely because he's the one I'm closest to, so that makes sense. But there's a downside too. Over the past few years, we have grown apart -- not critically, but apart just the same. Over the years, we've both found our hobbies and we are equally devoted to them. There isn't that much overlap which is what causes the divide. Again, mind you, this is not a "critical" divide, just an observation which leads me to my next topic...

Eddie and I have talked about having a commitment ceremony for a few years now. At first, I was somewhat hesitant about the idea mainly because of the logistics of pulling it off. But the more time I spend thinking about it, and the more I realize how much I care for him, I've decided that this is something that we NEED to do. It's a level to our relationship that we deserve and we owe it to ourselves to do it. Enough talking... no one is getting any younger.

We bought a house a few years ago. While we truly enjoy the home itself, neither of us love the neighborhood. As you may know, our plan was to purchase - flip - and move. But then the housing market tanked, and we realized that we were pretty much stuck. So we're making do with what we have, but we both often think about our next move, and I think we're both on the same page when we say that we're done with the DC Metro area. And so the semi-search begins to determine where our next home will be.

If you've followed my little bog here for long, you'll note that I am not happy just being content. I need / want more out of life and the battle for carving my niche in this world is constant. It's not a legacy thing, or a fame thing.. it's personal enrichment. You undoubtedly also have picked up on the fact that I talk a good game and usually fail to reach my goals. That's no one's fault but my own.. but support plays a role. Pitching my ideas to folks, I often receive a less than supportive reactions. Maybe I shoot too high, or my level of expectation exceeds what folks perceive as being realistic.. I don't know, but I have to learn to rely on myself and my devotion to the project(s) rather than allow myself to be shot down by others.

Oddly enough, I'm severely impacted by an event that is coming up in May of 2010. My 25th High School Reunion. I've spend a fair amount of time recently reflecting on the short time I spent at the High School that I graduated from -- I only spent two years there -- and yet, those two years molded me in ways that no other experience has. I think this is partially because of the culture of the school, but mostly, it is because of the people I spent those two years with. There was a connection between people there that I have not experienced since. And yet, slowly but surely as the years went on after High School, I purposely burrowed myself into my own world and consciously left the experience and the people behind. As such, I often wonder about the circle of friends I might have now had I not made that decision. Regardless, this will be the first time back on campus is over 20 years, and despite the trepidations and, well, fear. I look forward to reconnecting to some of those that I selfishly left behind.

And so, my dear readers, there's a lot to think about these day's in my warped mind and much to ponder. I recently realized that the older I get, the more complex things become and it's important (to me anyway) that I stop every once in a while, and remind myself to think.

Do The Right Thing

2009-09-20T16:49:00.006-04:00

I've always cared about causes. I've often wished that I had the financial means to do charitable work beyond the $20 or $30 given when I get the mailings with free labels in them. It's clear that caring isn't enough if you are truly impacted by a cause, and that $20 or $30 really doesn't amount to much in the long run. It may go towards helping pay for the price of the mailing that you're responding to, but really, what good it that? I used to volunteer my time at various events, or charity fundraisers, but again, if you care enough about a cause, this isn't enough.

Being the person that I am, I often dream of ways to help those causes that I'm passionate about and that leads to more frustration because dreams help no one in the end. I'm not saying that dreaming is bed, quite the opposite, dreams are important -- aspirations are that which drives a person to accomplishment... and I'm not accomplishing much these days.

Recently, I came across some statistics that made my heart stop: almost 50% of Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgendered, Queer/Curious (GLBTQ) youth (aged 12 - 24) have attempted suicide in their short lives. There are almost 2,000,000 homeless teens in the US. Of that, 20-40% self-identify as GLBTQ. The causes for GLBTQ homelessness is varied, but at the top of the list is being rejected by their families because of their sexuality.

Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgendered, and Queer/Curious youth are quickly rising top of the list of domestic abuse next to women. These kids are being beaten by their families, ridiculed on the playground, and becoming maladjusted adults because they are trying to be themselves.

Can you imagine, being beaten, sexually abused, ridiculed, and tossed out on the street for being straight? Can you imagine protesters standing outside of your weddings with signs saying that you are a freak of nature? Can you imagine having your friends no longer associate with you because you trust in them enough to tell them you like to opposite sex? I think not.

This has got to stop!! Shame, Shame, Shame on any society that treats their children this way. Shame on a society that hides behind religion as a means of justifying their discrimination of people, let alone our youth! Shame on any parent that feels they have less of a child for having the courage to admit they are gay! It turns my stomach that any adult act this way!! Shame on a country that forces its military to tell service men and women to pretend they are something they are not.... FOR SHAME!

WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE FUCKING PEOPLE???

So now, I have a cause, a purpose, a platform that I feel strongly enough to do something about. You'll be hearing more from me about this, my dear readers, rest assured... and I hope, that in any way possible, you will support the endeavor (in what ever form it takes), and that you find the fulfillment that is sure to come from standing up and REALLY doing the right thing.

More to come....

Regrets

2009-06-23T19:55:00.005-04:00

Regrets

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" How I hated this question. I recall the pressure and pain this question gave me. "How do I know? Maybe I need to grow up to know the answer to that." That's what I said, that's what I gave as my answer to the eternal question that plagues the young mind. The pressures of answer requirement riddled my aching head. "Am I supposed to have an answer for this? What if I pick the wrong answer? What will they think of me if I GIVE THE WRONG ANSWER??

Internal struggles to provide a legitimate answer aside, I knew.. I always knew what I wanted to be when I grew up but knowing that I would be scoffed at and replied to with speech after speech about the quality of life, and providing for one's self, and the inevitable, "No, really what do you want to be..." questions. I opted to torment myself trying to think of the "right" answer based on the person asking.

Famous.. I wanted to be famous. Period. Nothing less, nothing more. I knew from a young age that the adoration of others, and the unwavering acceptance that comes with acknowledgement of talent was what I wanted. The ultimate success for me was to excel at the one thing that I knew came naturally, and to be paid for the things that I felt didn't require any work at all.

And herein lies the body of this blog, my dear readers. We all have regrets, and I don't mean those petty regrets like, "I shouldn't have eaten that burger today" kind of regrets. I mean the life changing, God damn it if I had only.... it would have changed my life type of regrets. Those monstrous OOPS moments that could have led to a different path and my life may have been different types of regrets. And I have many.

I think with age comes a certain amount of reflection. Reflections of actions (the good and the bad), and the regrets that come with spending too much time focusing on those items in our lives that weren't particularly.... well... stellar. Go ahead, admit it... we all have at least one or two moments like that. Reflection is good, and it's a learning experience and those of us that can learn from our mistakes tend to turn out to be better people.

The "should-a, could-a, would-a" moments that take center stage are the ones that will eat you alive until you finally decide that you don't have the strength to ponder them any more. Missed opportunities are strong-holds that have the power of preventing growth, obstacles to learning, and leaving you feeling as if you've failed.

I missed many opportunities due to poor choices, poor company, and poor planning and yet, I honestly can't completely complain. I'm not in a bad place or a place where I wish things in my life were different. But I am in a place where I didn't think I'd end up. Well, change is good.. but I know, deep in my heart if I had stuck with it, persevered and truly dedicated myself to making something happen, I could have. But I missed that chance. And so, here I am.

Middle aged, wondering what the next half of my life will bring me. What can I make of it and where do I want it to lead me. I remain stagnant, yet purposeful questioning if the true meaning of happiness really applies. Now, please, don't get me wrong -- I am NOT unhappy. But ask yourself the questions that I'm asking myself:

What will I make happen in the next five years?

Where will I be in the next five years?

Will my accomplishments in the next five years make a difference?

Do not consider this post as a the demoralizing, deflating, unhappy, questions of a man on the edge, but DO consider this as a call for self review. Our regrets have their place and they should not be ignored. Regrets do not warrant apologies. They are reminders of how not to do things the next time.

What did I want to be when I grew up?

FAMOUS

Facebook

2009-05-27T20:45:00.003-04:00

A lot of you over the past few months have heard me bitching and moaning about Facebook and the huge amount of SPAM, CRAP, Drivel and other unnecessary information that is bantered back and forth on Facebook. I joined the site back when only a couple of my friends were members, and at the time, it was a great way to socialize online. With time, and with the advent of so many other (more secure) online methods of communicating/socializing, Facebook has exploded with popularity.

With the popularity explosion came the requests for friends, causes, invites, announcements, notifications and movie quizzes. I quickly realized that without daily maintenance, my Facebook page often had one hundred or more friends requests (most of whom I have never met in my life) and other requests. It became physically impossible for me to keep up with the demand, so I simply stopped logging on.

I'm at a loss why people are so drawn to the need to share the information that they do in a public forum. Honestly now, how does it better my evening knowing that someone is eating steak for dinner? Or for that matter, why do I want to read comments between folks that I hardly know? The truth of the matter is that, honestly, it's a waste of time.

Personally, for the most part anyway, I don't want people to know what's going on in my life to the extent that they know where I'm eating out, and who I'm hanging out with. Come on, what business is that of any ones but mine? Further more, what right does anyone have to continuously bombard others with appeals for causes?? How is this any different than the religious folks knocking on my door trying to "save me"? Whether I need "saving" or not is my own business.

Now, my dear readers, before you get your fingers typing all of your angry emails to me, please consider this: there are people out here that are interested in the important milestones of one's live -- those items that deserve notice or support from the masses -- but there are also those out here that find the continued drivel of unimportant, non-critical, mundane, and frankly, boring information simple a waste of time.

Having said that, there IS one redeeming experience that I've had with Facebook and that is its ability to connect to those that co-existed with me in lives past. I appreciated the re-connection with many of my long lost friends, and hope that despite my distaste for Facebook we are still able to communicate. After all, there's so many other ways to connect than through Facebook.

And so, I take my leave of what I feel has become an experiment gone terribly wrong. I will relish the pure connections that feed me information directly from the source, and not through a public posting where its importance is diminished to the point of unimportance. I will rely on an email from person to person. I will rely on the occational phone call to alert me of something imporant.

I choose to virtually exist through my website, and anyone that wants to know what's going on with me can ask me.. don't wait for a posting on Facebook.

Susan Boyle Reaction

2009-04-27T05:17:00.002-04:00

It should come as no surprise to anyone that I'm overly critical when it comes to talent reality shows, and equally no surprise that I'm overly critical of the "talent" that is paraded in front of us. We tend to loose sight of the fact that these "competitions" are rarely judged by the American Public based on talent, but more so on likability, looks, and overall popularity. (The pretty people are rarely "voted" off early in the competition.

Enter Susan Boyle. To be honest, I don't know what all the fuss is about. So the woman can sing, so what? Are we shocked at her abilities becuase we've pre-judged her based on looks? Probably. Herein lies that paradox that is reality tv. We get off on the way someone is portrayed then pretend to be "shocked" along wtih the panel when perception is turned on it's ear.

Come on folks, why are we surprised with Ms. Boyle? I venture to say, it's becuase we have lowered our expectations of human beings based on initial perception. Admit it, we've stooped so low that we make decisions about people before we give them a chance to prove their worth.

For those of you that think Susan Boyle is a sensation -- shame on you. So the woman can sing why is she any different than the millions of others that can sing?? You're victim of the machine that is hype-tv. I hope you save your judgments for your couch -- it has no place in the real world.

Changing Of The Guard

2009-01-18T04:25:00.001-05:00

I NEVER talk politics. Why? I live in DC... need I say more? The topic has the potential to wiggle its way into every conversation, every discussion, every-thing and frankly, it bores me. But these are historic times and given that, I felt that now might be a good time to put in my two-cents.

Let's face it, dear readers, change is good. We've become stagnant and disinterested in our government. We elect our leaders based on our personal beliefs in the hopes that those we place in power will act on our behalf. But the reality is we generally place folks into office that quickly neglect the good of general public and forget why they're there. It's clear that with power comes stupidity. The responsibility we place on our leaders seems, all to often, to be lost on them and as a result, we lie in bed at night wondering what went wrong.

I think it's clear that we've had enough and we've taken on the responsibility ourselves to make needed changes in the way our government runs. I face these changes with a little bit of skepticism because all to often our political leaders tells us what we want to hear to gain our votes.. and rarely follow through with the promises made on the campaign trail. Could it be that we've finally decided that we would actually hold our leaders accountable? Is it possible that we are so fed up with government that we are taking a stand? Maybe. Maybe not.

So, change is good, and THIS particular change in Presidents seems to be as drastic a change as we've seen in decades. This is a new era. We've placed a President that we are equally willing to simply refer to as "Barack" rather than "President Obama". We're equally interested in his search for a White House puppy as we are in his economic policies. We're placing in his hands our wishes and desires to make a difference and in return, we are told that "Change has come to Washington" -- words that seem to make all of us sleep a little better at night.

We've witnessed a cabinet selection process that is overtly inclusive of Gays, Lesbians, Democrats, Republicans, old, young, and multi-racial. The message is one of inclusion and the message was received. This is a President who not only talks about the importance of technology, but embraces and understands it. He has MySpace, FaceBook, and Twitter pages and relies on his Blackberry to the point where he wouldn't give it up despite the Secret Service's request for him to do so.

This weekend, Washington, DC will see an influx of over two million people that are making the trip to town to witness the Inauguration of President Obama. The city has twenty thousand additional police in place. The FBI has accounted for every individual that lives and works along the parade route. Central DC is all but shut down, bridges to and from Virginia are closed. Numerous street closures will basically halt traffic throughout the majority of downtown DC. Now, I could be wrong, but this is an unprecedented display of security, and this is a clear indication of how change has, in fact, come to Washington.

My friends - (yikes, how McCain is that?), let me rephrase --- My dear readers, whether or not you voted for Barack or McCain is not important. Whether you are Republican or Democrat is not the point. Whether you agree with me or not cannot change the fact that this has the potential to be the kind of change that really makes a difference... and I hope that it is. Barack knows that's what this country wants and needs, and I believe that he MAY be the person to do it. Hopefully he can live up to his own slogan, "Yes, We Can".

I NEVER talk about politics... so I'll say only this: "Welcome Home Barack.. make us proud."

The Arrival

2009-01-03T07:33:00.000-05:00

The morning air is crisp – no, cold -- at 4:30am as I stand on my balcony listening to the morning sounds, as I do every morning. The rattle and hum of the condenser on the balcony joins the orchestra of other units as they warm the homes around me. I look over the edge and down three stories onto the street that is littered with the remnants of food wrappings and occasional misplaced trash. Apparently, there’s a McDonald’s nearby.

The morning brings solitude and a time for both reflection and planning. It’s a time of review, of sorts, and the rare opportunity to allow myself time to stop, listen, and think. The world is still snuggled in warm beds where dreams conduct their business allowing imagination the freedom to run free.

The bare trees up on the hill, bald without leaves, have a unique look in the winter morning. Their jutting branches look as if made by the finger of a child on paper but unlike a finger painting, it’s to scale and unified all around the edges. Occasionally, the wind blows through them causing a sway not unlike the equivalent of the tree waving to me from on top of the hill, back and forth with its own unique sound and movement.

Morning brings a level of excitement in anticipation of the day to come. It’s the stepping stone from which we all squelch the prior day activities – out with the old and in with the new – the daily rejuvenation ritual that we all participate in without fail. Plans are made, dreams & regrets are contemplated, futures are forged and shopping lists are created. We go about the business of living our lives another day.

But the early morning also comes loneliness and abandonment. The intense quiet provides a sense of isolation as though the world has disappeared. All the good, the bad, the painful, and joy has crawled into sheet lined mattresses supporting individual dreams – some good and some not so good. Morning isolation is short-lived as the world opens its eyes and refocuses on reality after REM sleep concludes. Cars become more frequent as the early shift, worker-bees shuffle off to their cubicles.

Then at last, the pinnacle – the reward -- arrives as it does every morning with overwhelming power, but completely silent as if creeping up on us without warning. The dark sky morphs a combination of colors and for a brief moment there is doubt about what the end result will be. Over the horizon, behind the finger painted trees the hint of orange -- the evidence of the day’s arrival. Like a theater’s backdrop, the canvas changes colors ever so slowly and begins to unveil those things hidden by the darkness.

The day is revealed and the isolation ebbs away just as slowly as the sun rises. With each minute, our sky is painted over anew. Brilliant strips of while clouds are visible moving at a snails pace so that if you wait long enough, you might actually see them move. Birds are commuting to wherever it is that birds commute to and very slowly humanity awakens to face the day.

With the arrival of the new day, all is revealed: the street, the grit, the homes, the strays, and most of all, the evidence that there IS, in fact, a McDonald’s nearby.

Another Holiday

2008-12-27T10:34:00.004-05:00

Another holiday season come and gone and as always the hype spirals down to a splat in expectations. No, not a bad holiday, per se, time with family has become one of the true highlights for me. But for God's sake.. what holiday would be complete without the inevitable psycho dressed as Santa taking out an entire family? Or this non-sense of trampling people at stores over, what, a Wii? If there's ever a reason to pull pack on this commodity we call Christmas, maybe now's the time.

And so, life returns to normal for a week before the next event rears its ugly head. New Year's Eve... another excuse to over indulge and pay dearly for it the following day... okay, so that's not ENTIRELY a bad thing! It's a great excuse to get Christmas out of our systems!

Life goes on, and the spiral of life begins to rewind itself back to "business as usual" setting, wherein the drudgery of daily life exists, and all the mono-chromatics begin all over again. We all return to our up in the morning, off to work, and home again lives that we've come to call our existance.

Where's the spice? Where is the "this is new"? How do we assure ourselves that life is not the robotic repetition we've come to know? What makes this new year and different from the forty-two prior years for me?

Now is the season for new year's resolutions and all the other broken promises we make to ourselves in the hopes of a better, fitter or more engaging life. My new year's resolution is to continue to stop making promises to myself that I have no intention to keep. Really, what's the point?

My dear readers, I propose this for the new year: Instead of making empty promises, let's learn to coexist. Let's make our lives better by putting others first. Let's make another person's life better by putting their happiness before our own. By doing this, we will reap the true benefits of what it means to be a better person. This world lacks true humanism by bowing to the commercialism that is the holidays.. and has stifled what used to be human kindness.

Just some food for thought --

Rejuvinated Blog

2008-12-21T19:08:00.004-05:00

Those of you who know me, know that I really don't like the Holiday season. Go ahead, get the "boos", "hisses" and "Grinch calling" out now.. I'll wait. [humming the jeopardy music]. Good, now that you've gotten that out of your system, we can move on. Look, I have no intention of turning my back on those that revel in the Holiday Spirit. In fact, I appreciate those that do. I just wish this time of year wasn't so commercialized and well, fake.

Okay, okay..maybe this isn't a great time to rap about this negativity with Christmas being, what, four days away. So.. I'll move on...

I suspect that many of you are new to the Life in Limbo blog since I've posted the link onto my FaceBook page. So, welcome. Take a few moments to look around and look through the past posts. Feel free to comment on older posts should you feel so inclined.

I've made the commitment (again) to spending quality time with my blog, and I can make you a few promises:

1. I will not ramble on in a self-adoring, "it's all about me", self-centered manner like so many blogs do. This blog is about opening my eyes and commenting on the world around me -- the good, the bad and the ugly as it were.

2. I will not be shy about my feelings and/or position on topics. I don't mean to offend, but everyone does have their opinions, myself included.

3. I will respect every opinion posted in comments in my blog. Even if we don't agree. But you can expect a comment back in healthy debate.

4. I will entertain all requests for topics to be covered in this blog. So YOU shouldn't be shy either.

5. I will post as often as I can.. but please understand that it's not a daily blog. So there may be periods where patience is appreciated.

And so, another year has gone by... I look forward to starting anew with Life In Limbo, and am excited about the prospects that this forum will bring to the table among friends.

Sad Reality

2008-05-06T20:57:00.002-04:00

Impacts come in all shapes and sizes. All too often, we are oblivious to those things that go on around us in the scope of the world. Wars, and politics, and thousands of people being killed in a cyclone...hell, it's so damn big there's no way we can even fathom most of what's happening on a daily basis. But in our own worlds, there's cause and effect all the time. Every action has a reaction -- what is that physics.. quantum something or other.. I don't know, it's over my head.

Sometimes, the small stuff - the stuff that hits home comes in odd shapes and disguises. Case in point -- while driving out of our driveway this morning at 6:00am heading for work, I caught a glimpse of a dead cat lying in our alley, and all day, I've been obsessed. I wonder the cause of death, whether it was someones pet, if someone somewhere is missing him/her. This was not an animal that, at least in appearance, was wounded (not obviously anyway) which made it worse.... the animal simply looked like he/she was napping.

So, is it small stuff? In the larger scheme of things, yes. But personally, it was traumatic and saddening. I've held dying animals in my arms and the emotions I felt then were present today. My instinct to help the animal was overbearing and yet I knew there was nothing I can do for the poor thing. Most of you know that we have two cats, so there's another connection with this poor, alone animal.

To make matters worse, I witnessed a bunch of neighborhood kids throwing sticks and stones at the animal. And while I was visibly enraged by their behavior and ignorance... it struck me that the deceased was not being hurt... that was over... there's no cruelty happening here. The aminal doesn't know what's going on. In some ways, it may be the first experience with death of any kind that these kids have had... so maybe there's some semblance of learning or perhaps maturing that occured there. It makes me feel slightly better to think that anyway.

So, my dear readers, there is my sad reality for today. Someday, hopefully long into the future, we will all be the dead cat in the alley being poked and prodded for the sake of learning and maturing (metaphorically speaking, of course). We serve this world best by caring for and taking care of one another and when my day comes, please, don't let the neighborhood kids get at me.

Peace ~

10 Years

2008-04-12T08:50:00.002-04:00

It's hard to believe that Eddie and I have been togethr for 10 years as of this morning. Time truly does fly when you're not paying attention... and apparently, I haven't been paying attention.

From the initiation of our long distance commnications (not that DC to NJ is particularly a "long distance") to the purchase of our first home a year ago, things mush along without the slightest hesitation without pause for anyone to catch up.

A people, Eddie and I have both grown over our ten years. Professionally and personally, we have grown together in many ways, and we've grown apart in many ways. Certainly there is very little (if any at all) negative that can be said for our relationship. We have had our bumps, but without the bumps, you don't grow and you don't learn, and he have done both both separately and together. That is what makes it work.

Our secret? Respect, and allowance. We both respect our differences in each other, and we allow each other to have our own lives while balancing them within our own. No, it's not always the easiest way to manage a relationship, but it seems to work for us.

So for all the good, and the bad, and the pitfalls, and the progress, and the allowances and the respect, we will continue to be the Tony & Eddie team that pushes forward and perseveres, and we will continue to love each other without end.

Ten years is just the beginning...

What's In a Job?

2008-03-08T06:51:00.002-05:00

So yeah, I know it's been an extremely long time since I've posted. I know, I'm sorry.. I guess I simply ran out of things to share with all of you.

No, that's not it.

I guess I felt there was nothing going on that truly worthy of writing about.

No, that's not it.

I guess I've been feeling a little frustrated with things.

Yeah, that's it.

I'm not going to make this posting a long, drawn out, rant of a thing. Except to say this:

I currently work in a culture of indifference. I'm running around in circles providing project support to an office that doesn't care if there is completion, quality, or policy adherence -- and worst of all, there is no accountability for the actions (or inactions) of resources. The whole purpose of a Project Management Office (PMO)(which I manage) is to set project goals, track those goals, and keep projects running smoothly.

Needless to say, wichout accountability from the top down, and their ability to hold their teams accountable for missing deadlines, tasks, budget, and resource estimates.. my job with worth nothing.

And so, my dear readers... despite hammering this office over the past year and demanding proper accountability.. it's fallen on deaf ears. Apparently, they prefer to hold dear their attitude of change resistance and embarace their procedural indifferences. Now, don't get me wrong... I'm not saying that my way is correct... but there are something things that are obvious. I'm charged with tracking data and I've proven again and again the data I'm being asked to track is dirty. My personal deadline was one year to change that around.. and I've been unable to succeed.

So off to the wonderful world of job searching. I despise the process of job hunting almost as much as I despise managment that doesn't manage. But there is one good thing that comes from job hunting: the opportunity to apply for positions that you might really enjoy, in an environment that might actually lead to that "Career" you've been searching for.

I hope, in my case (and those of my beloved readers that are searching) that this is the last job change. The last set of interviews embarking on a career that I'd be proud to say I've been in for more that ten or twenty years.

We'll see.... and I promise, I'll let you know.

Want to hear about a specific topic in A Life of Limbo? Post a reply with your request and I'll tackle it!! :)

Sorry Is A Lonely Word

2007-11-28T07:34:00.000-05:00

It's been a while since I posted, but I assure you, there is a lot going on here in Limbo. First and foremost, I want to apologize for the disappearing act. Not all that cool to open a new blog, get a number of readers then up and leave. So, sorry about that and thanks for your patience.

So I guess the most important thing I need to let you all know about is that I've quit smoking -- and not that I dont' appreciate the well-wishes etc.. but in all honesty, it's just a monumental annoyance quitting is. I started smoking at 12 years old, and just shy of 30 years later this is a MAJOR monkey-wrench in my life. My basic functionality is all turned around... sleeping is difficult, my daily routine is up-ended, my mood has gone hay-wire, and 99% of the time I'm uncomfortable in my own skin and on-edge. It's truly a miserable experience. That having been said, it's been almost three weeks.. and the promises of this all getting easier is the only thing that's keeping from a Marlboro Red at any given moment. I'll leave it at that... and move on.

The other major life-obstacle right now is my relationship with our developer. The dude that built our house. He goes by the name Kort with Macy Development. Long story short, Kort and I have been battling each other for more than seven months now. You see, Macy Development sold us our new house with faulty duct work. Bascially, there is no air-flow on the lower level of the home. Months of complaining about that has finally come to a point where they've completed work on one of the other units that they say fix the problem.

What really kills me is that twice during my seven month discussions with Kort, he has accused me of being racist against him becuase he is from India. He claims I don't like him because of his race / nationality. Let me put this stupidity to rest - I don't like him becuase he is a liar and tries to do aspects of his business illegally, and no one holds him accountable.

I don't know how to put in words exactly how angry it makes me to be called a racist or how to communicate with you how deeply it has affected me. It's truly impossible to explain. Except to say that as a Gay male, maybe I can relate to Kort on some level -- he clearly must be insecure about his nationality, or had bad experiences becuase of it for him to pull it up as an issue.

My response to this is no response at all. I'm washing my hands of Kort and Macy Development and have turned over the representation to Eddie. I cannot dignify Kort's remarks with a response.

And so, my dear readers.. that's a quick catch-up. I hope to me a little better about getting my blog updated... maybe weekly would be best :)

Reader Topic Saturdays

2007-11-01T19:25:00.000-04:00

Know it or not, for the most part, by blog is an "off the top of the head" writing exercise for me. I really don't plan or map out what it is I'm writing about and since the topic of this blog is set by those things that impact me on any given day, I try my best not to do too much planning of it.

So today, I'd like to try something different. I would like to solicit topics from you, my dear readers. Send me your topics via comments every Thursday, and I will blog on one of your topics every Saturday.

I'll post a reminder for you every Thursday so there is a place to post your topics for the week. Nothing is off limits.. let's give it a try and see what comes of it... are you game?

I am.... Post your topics for this Saturday's blog below...

Hmmm, this could be fun!

Halloween Story

2007-10-31T14:29:00.000-04:00

Happy Halloween!! It certainly wouldn’t be a Halloween without a good, creepy, scary story, so I thought I’d write one up for you. The only exception with this story is that it’s one hundred percent true. I haven’t embellished it, or done anything to the story except tell it to you exactly as the events occurred. So enjoy, and please, give me your thoughts on it.

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I was raised in Bronxville, NY, about one half hour from Manhattan in Westchester County. Every summer, my parents would pack up the kids (my sister and I), the pets and we would move to our summer house in Connecticut were we would stay until the week before school started when we made the move in reverse back to New York.

Guilford Connecticut was founded in 1637 and is a picture-perfect example of a typical New England town. It has a town green with three churches surrounding it, quaint little stores and fairs throughout the summer on the green. Our home is situated on a plot of land called Leete’s Island, which is about two miles from the center of the Guildford green.

Our home, in 1973, was significantly more rustic than it is now. Most notably, the upstairs. All of the walls in the upstairs of the home ended about a foot from the ceiling. I never understood why, but that’s the way they were. There was only one bathroom in the house, which was downstairs and the upstairs had four bedrooms.

At the very top of the square, enclosed staircase, on the left was my room. I had a bunk bed in which I always slept in the top bunk. My room was long and thin and had a window at the end of the room.. To the right of that was my sister’s room, then the guest bedroom and my parents room.

One night, late at night after everyone had gone to bed and all the lights were off, I woke up with an uncomfortable feeling. I remember that the room was incredibly cold (as it often was at night on the water) and I kept thinking that something was different about the feeling of my room. I always slept with my door open so I could peer out the door and into the hallway.

I drifted back to sleep and awoke sometime later to the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Since we only had one bathroom downstairs, I assumed that someone in the house had gone down. They were slow and calculated as if it was difficult to see each step due to the darkness.

I don’t know how best to describe what it was I saw next. There was a figure – shadowy, but with a white aura around it. I knew I was a male figure, but couldn’t see any features. The figure came around the corner, looked at me and very clearly said, “What are you doing?” After which walked through my bedroom and out the window.

Hysterical, I hid under my blanket and screamed out for my parent who came running and took me to their room for the night. I told them what I saw, but of course it was dismissed as a nightmare. I don’t remember ever being as scared as I was that night.

Fast-forward ten years. Our upstairs of the “cottage” had been renovated. There was now a bathroom where my room used to be, and we have walls that actually meet the ceiling. All fresh and dry walled now. I was 17 now and my sister was 20.

I had gone to bed relatively earlier than everyone else in the house that night. Like any other night, it was chilly and you could hear the waves crashing against our dock at the front of the house.

The household was awakened by my sister screaming at the top of her lungs… we all dashed out of bed to go see what was wrong. As we entered the room, my sister was sitting up in bed crying saying that there was someone in her room. My parents asked her about it and she said that someone was in her room and was looking at her. She also said that the figure said to her, “What are you doing?”

My heart sank as I went back to my bed – though I didn’t sleep at all that night. What makes it all the more strange to me is that my sister was at camp the year I had my “visit”, and I had never told her about the incident.

BOO!

Inspiration

2007-10-30T06:00:00.000-04:00

Inspiration comes in all shapes and forms and more often than not, if we take the time to realize it, it can come from places we wouldn’t expect them to. For instance, our cats inspire me. They possess virtues that most of us can only hope to have: keen senses of smell and hearing; agility and most importantly the ability to provide unconditional love despite any obstacles they endure.

When we are inspired by events, people, issues and even objects.. it instills a learning experience within us that drives our sense of accomplishment. It makes us want to achieve and urges the desire to do more, to do better, to do extraordinary things. Now, lets’ not confuse inspiration with infatuation, influences or even with idol-worship. Inspiration need not come from those that are in the public eye; in fact, I find most of my inspiration comes from those that never even knew they provided it.

Case in point. I have a friend who at some stage in his life made the mental decision to loose weight and get into shape. A common goal you might say, but think about it. The determinations to set a goal, set milestones, devote to it and achieve it. It’s really quite monumental when you get down to it not only on personal level for him, but for those he inspires – like me.

Now, as you take stock of your “inspirations” consider that the inspiration might not necessarily be in the completed act in-and-of-itself. No, my dear readers.. I believe that inspiration comes from what leads up to that completed act. Yes, yes.. Those people that work hard to raise money for charity, and those that achieve greatness by heroism or bravery inspire me. Sure, sure.. those are inspirational moments, but what about individuals that attempt to complete the seemingly impossible? What about those that devote themselves to personal growth and personal milestones. Those are my heroes.

My partner has run a number of marathons. It goes without saying that this is a personal milestone without question. Training, devoting, scheduling, toning, and all the other mental preparations that I would never be privy to are testament to the fierce internal desires that most of us know nothing about and have rarely (if ever) felt. It’s an accomplishment that is so amazingly huge to me that it’s hard to put into words.

If you’ve ever been a spectator at a marathon, it’s a must-do for your life list. The sea of determination penned up at the starting line is a sight worth seeing. The amount of support surrounding the runners is humbling. Hundreds, if not thousands of people, bending and stretching and setting their sights - on not winning, but just completing and as the day goes on.. the ugly truth begins to rear its head.

The clean white running shirts become stained with blood, the starting line strength has weaned to nothing and the devotion deep within each and every runner has been put into overdrive to simply place one foot in front of the other. What starts as a celebration begins to look like soldiers coming home from the front line with all the same fatigue and desperation on their faces.

The spectator flips from excitement and eagerness for his or her runner to a role of constant personal support for each and every runner. Supporters work hard to pull every runner that looks to be on the road to giving up and word of encouragement with shouts and claps to “keep going – you can do this”.

It’s truly awesome and rates beyond high on the inspiration meter. I’m always proud of every runner I see cross the line at the end of the race regardless of my relationship to them mostly because I know it’s an accomplishment I could never call my own.

Any by the way, my friend that I spoke about earlier? He just completed his second marathon -- simply amazing – and such an inspiration!!

Take A Right at the Highway

2007-10-29T16:56:00.001-04:00

I typically leave for work at 6:15am. It’s my routine and it allows me to take my time getting from The District of Columbia to McLean, VA (about a forty minute drive) and affords me the luxury of stopping along the way to get my Starbuck’s without the fear of running late. It also gets me into the office around 7am where I can enjoy the quiet before the storm of other employees arrive. I cherish this quiet time in the office and get more done between 7am and 8am in the more than most people get done all day.

This morning was no different. I packed up all my work items into my briefcase, said my goodbyes and headed off for my morning commute. I got my “venti-mild” coffee at Starbucks and made my way to Route 66 heading towards McLean. It’s still early enough that the sun hasn’t made its first appearance (officially) but late enough that that morning hue is visible in the sky.

Shortly after entering route 66, sipping my coffee and listening to my morning radio show I noticed a car about ten in front of me swerving back and forth. The other cars slammed on their breaks as we all watched this silver sedan swerve out of the left lane.. across the right lane and slam head-on into the right guard rail which it bounced off of and spun around in an almost 360 degree spin before coming to rest directly in the middle of the two lanes of traffic facing the wrong way.

A number of the head cars stopped and people got out (presumably to help) while others drove very slowly and cautiously around the car and continued on their way. I was one of the latter.

As I was making the slow drive by, my “lookie-lue” mentality (as we all do when passing an accident) carefully reviewed the scene. The driver was fine and on the median on his cell-phone and others were milling about apparently discussing the situation. The police and EMT’s had yet to arrive, though I did hear a siren shortly thereafter. It’s astonishing to me, having seen the actual event, that no one was hurt.

Oddly enough, this had a profound impact on me this morning. It’s odd because I didn’t’ spend the morning recreating the accident as I saw it happen, but rather thought about how fragile this life of ours is. You’ve heard it said a million times that life can be over in a flash of a second. Things like watching this accident can drive that point home to you.

To fuel my mind on this topic as I drove away, my morning radio show was talking about Alzheimer’s disease. There was a woman who was diagnosed with it at 45 years old. This got me thinking what it would be like to loose my sense of who I am, and slowly loose touch with those people and things in life that I truly love.

So, despite the lack of creativity in this particular post to my blog today, I’d like to leave you with a favor:

Take a moment to take stock of those people and things in life that positively impact you. Send the people on your list an email, or a letter and just say hello. Calling them doesn’t solidify your feelings as well as putting your thoughts down on paper for them to keep if they wish.

And remember, what’s here today isn’t always around tomorrow.. so don’t’ take anything or anyone for granted.

Must We Get Older?

2007-10-28T08:26:00.000-04:00

I ran across the following story on the Internet recently:

”I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist. I noticed his DDS diploma, which bore his full name. Suddenly, I remembered a tall, handsome, dark-haired boy with the same name had been in my high school class some 40-odd years ago. Could he be the same guy that I had a secret crush on way back then? Upon seeing him, however, I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding, grey-haired man with the deeply lined face was way too old to have been my classmate.

After he examined my teeth, I asked him if he had attended Morgan Park High School. "Yes. Yes, I did. I'm a mustang," he gleamed with pride. "When did you graduate?" I asked. "In 1965," he replied. "Why do you ask?" "You were in my class!" I exclaimed. He looked at me closely ... and then that ugly, old, bald, wrinkled, fat ass, grey-haired decrepit son-of-a-bitch asked, "What did you teach?"”

Many of us are guilty of looking at others our own age and thinking, "Surely, I can't be that old", but what is it about aging that sparks the internal fear inside of us? I know some people that get physically angered when I mention age and I still don’t understand it.

I suppose for me, there is an element of regret associated with getting older. “I should have…”, or “I wanted to…”, or “I wish I had…”. At any given time, I could probably rattle of a list of ten things that I would have liked to accomplish before the age of forty. Yes, being a multi-billionaire was one of them.. go ahead and laugh. The regret is not a sense of sorrow, or disappointment that my list wasn’t accomplished, but that in review, I might not have worked as hard as I could have to achieve the goals I set for myself. Therein lies the regret. The knowledge that with hard work, devotion, and sacrifice, my entire list (including being a billionaire) could have been achieved.. if I had only worked harder at it.

My fortieth birthday was a life-changing milestone for me. For some it’s turning fifty, for others it’s turning thirty. For me, it was forty for it was then that my body started falling apart, my attitudes began to change, and I consciously put all of my energy into stabilizing the kind of person I wanted to become. Some aspects of my life were being let go while newer aspirations were being introduced.

I can assure you, my dear readers, that it is not an easy task to 1) identify those things about yourself that you don’t like; 2) facilitate the strategic plan to change those things; 3) implement the change and 4) stick to them. It’s been almost two years since I began making these changes and I’m not done yet – it’s a work in progress, as all of our lives are – works in progress.

The human life cycle cannot be stopped. Time will continue to tick on with or without us to complain about getting older. I have a theory; many of you may have heard me say this before:

Pre-school: We learn what things are (and how they taste)
Kindergarten: We learn what things are called.
Grammar School: We learn how to spell these things
High School: We learn what to do with these things
College: We learn why we do these things
Post-College: We learn how to undo all the things we learned before

So I’ll ask you these questions, my dear readers…

1) What is your theory about aging?
2) How do you manage getting older?
3) What do you love and hate about aging?

I look forward to your comments.. and hope you have a great Sunday.

Behavioral Science

2007-10-27T07:51:00.000-04:00

I have always been a believer in giving people the benefit of the doubt. Sure, it’s often difficult when the other person just did something mountainously stupid, but it’s only fair to allow others the room to learn from their mistakes – even when it is at my expense. Let’s face it; illogical, idiotic, unnecessary, and just plain stupid people surround us. It’s ok to admit it. It hurts no one to open your eyes and see the trees for the forest.

64. I counted sixty-four separate instances of illogical, idiotic, unnecessary and stupid events that occurred in my life yesterday. [I’m sure that actually counting them falls under one of those categories in-and-of-itself – hey, I’m not immune]. Ranging from stupidity on the road to the actions of my co-workers, to newspaper articles (and news reports), to simple interaction with friends. Sixty-four separate instances of the illogical, idiotic, unnecessary and stupid – IN ONE DAY! It’s like a plague.

I’m pretty sure that if I weren’t following my current career path in IT, I would have gone into behavioral science. I’m infatuated with the “hows” and “whys” of people. How they think, what makes them tick, and why they do what they do. I’m a chronic people-watcher and take inane pleasure in observing their actions. It gives me great pleasure when I am witness to the human vulnerabilities. Those things that truly make us human: embarrassment, surprise, humility, and yes, stupidity (among others).

Interaction is the key to people watching. Catching that rare, but oh-so valuable moment in time when we are caught with our pants down – when our minds go into overdrive to remedy the situation and attempts to cover-up our indiscretions are run by gut reactions. There’s no time to think about it, it’s autopilot – sink or swim – fight or flee. This moment in time brings the primal, unedited, purity of who we really are to the surface.

I was sitting in a manager’s meeting yesterday with twenty-five IT mangers. As facilitator of the meeting, I often close my meetings with an open table to allow anyone that wishes to bring up new business to do so. In this case, once I opened up the table, I was inundated with complaints about communication within the department overall. “We don’t know what’s going on”; “How do we know when…” “Why doesn’t anyone tell us…” etc… For almost fifteen minutes I endured the management complaints and attempted to write them as quickly as they were spewing words at me.

At twenty minutes I stood up, put up my hands to call a halt to the bitching and complaining and said the following: “What are your solutions? How do you resolve these issues? Don’t complain without following up with a recommendation. You are the managers of the departments you are complaining about. You have the power to resolve your own solutions. Why are you complaining when you are the root of the problem?”

CLICK…. CLICK…. CLICK.. my mind when into hyper-drive trying to take mental pictures of each and every face glaring back at me like I had just jumped on the table and removed all of my clothing in a slow, teasing, strip while humming “You’ve Got To Have a Gimmick” from Gypsy.. CLICK… CLICK… CLICK.. I could see the light bulbs going off in each of their heads while they processed what I had just said.

And then it happened… that glorious, spectacular, monumental, shining moment when their faces began to blush, and they realized how illogical, idiotic, unnecessary, and just plain stupid they all were. All in a matter of moments the meeting was ended and silence escorted each of the managers out of the conference room. Oh, if there were only a way to print mental pictures!

I have always been a believer in giving people the benefit of the doubt – but GEEZ.. that’s tough sometimes.

Why Blog??

2007-10-26T16:05:00.000-04:00

It was only a few months ago; let's say six months ago, that a couple of friends of mine were heavily into blogging. I was encouraged to join them, but never really got into the swing of it. I can't say why really, except to say that at the time, I wasn't very much into sharing bits and pieces of my life with anyone. Oooh, I'm just so dramatically mysterious huh?

Well, as time went on, and I gave up on the idea of blogging entirely, I was reminded of the nature of the beast when a friend of mine forwarded me a link to a blog that he had been following. I thought, “what the hell – it couldn’t hurt to take a look.”

If you know me, you know that I don’t particularly communicate verbally very effectively and am often at a loss for words that truly paint the picture of the idea(s) I’m trying to get across. But writing… ahh, writing.

I love to write. It’s the outlet that most satisfies the inner-workings of my soul and allows me the venue through which I can communicate ideas, thoughts, comments, mental-pictures, hurts, loves and more. So, as they say, “that was that” and I committed to a daily blog.

So what can you expect? You can expect a daily thought process that will sometimes be disjointed and sometimes angry. It will be a frank discussion of a daily process I call being in limbo. Why limbo? The idea of being in limbo, to me, is a representation of our daily lives being in the balance with each and every day. We wake to be impacted by whatever is on our minds throughout the day. Through the course of the day, we think and form opinions and are bombarded by those attempting to sway our opinions one way or the other. That’s why we are “in limbo”.

That’s the gist of the blog. You needn’t agree, or disagree with my on any topic of discussion, but I do ask you this. Please comment. While I may post a topic for the day and with it put forth my opinion or feelings about that topic, but for this to work. you need to participate. This is a discussion blog.

If you don’t agree, tell me why. If you do agree, explain further. This is not a debate blog.. so please, show some respect when replying.. it’s only courteous.

With that, I invite you to join me in exploring, “Life in Limbo”.
Tony