Is the Internet endangered?

Its been a long time since we blogged...well Its been a long time since I blogged. I apologize. I'll try and not let it happen again.
"Where have you been Morgie?" You might ask.
I have been down a rabbit hole that has no bottom. I have been traveling around the internet at the speed of light, I am Rocketman, and this is my story.
My journey starts out in Facebook.com, my newly adopted "home site." FB as I like to call it is a fast growing Social Networking site that was created by Mark Zuckerman from his dorm room at Harvard four years ago. It is simple to use but is quickly revolutionizing the way we use the net. Facebook.com uses associative links to create a fun and rewarding experience for users. Each Person's page offers associative links to comments, photos, groups, music and videos. Following these links can lead to a powerful feeling of discovery. The top two Social Networking Sites (SNS) in the United States are Facebook and Myspace
According to Time magazine article, Old Friends on Facebook, By Justin Fox . Facebook claims to be signing up 150,000 new members a day. MySpace says it's adding 250,000 members daily, but those don't all represent actual people (MySpace places no restrictions on how many identities one can assume), and there's a widespread belief--albeit one not yet backed up by much hard data--that Facebook is gaining ground. It's a belief shared by Rupert Murdoch, whose News Corp. owns MySpace. When an interviewer quipped in June that readers were abandoning newspapers for MySpace, Murdoch shot back, "I wish they were. They're all going to Facebook at the moment."
I started thinking about SNS and how they are different from the old static web sites. I know its not new...Web 2.0 has been around for along time. But what was web 2.0? Byrne has been talking about collaboration for months. Was that what web 2.0 is? I decided to start researching for my own understanding what 2.0 really means.

Web 2.0 means many things. Its not just one thing. The more I researched, the more rabbit holes I went down. I had started at Social networking soon I was looking at terms like folksonomy, participation, and convergence. According to Tim O' Reilly who coined the phrase Web 2.0, "Web 2.0 is the business revolution in the computer industry caused by the move to the Internet as platform, and an attempt to understand the rules for success on that new platform."....Huh? An easier definition was Web 2.0 is a term describing changing trends in the use of World Wide Web technology and web design that aims to enhance creativity, information sharing, collaboration and functionality of the web. I like that. So what I'm saying...

I guess the best way I have found to define web 2.0 is a word cloud with many of the 2.0 themes.


than I stumbled on this...

OurGirl: A Plucky Response

my friend stew recently posted about growing up and playing by the rules of the game. this is a response post. i don't think i'm getting at what stew is talking about, this is just what i thought about when i read his post.
http://onstewsmind.blogspot.com/

i think my boy1, right now, may be plucky. he's in a football league where he's the youngest, smallest, and the lightest. he thinks all about protecting himself. i think about it all the time as well. use your black belt experience, i advise him. be quick and agile. then i cover my eyes. i also try to learn about the game from him. if there is anything a child—at least my child—diggs is to instruct an adult in something—anything.

growing up, i was in the athletic plucky category. i grew up in an anti-sport household. this proved to be a handicap in gym class. i really thought we were playing a game. but we were not. i approached a sport with a half heart about improving my game skills. i was just enjoying the game. i think i wasn't totally inept, but my lack of coordination and my goofy attitude towards the game kept me in the lower half of the picking order. which didn't bum me out—it was just a game.

then, one day the game changed.

my middle school gym teacher was a wildly popular teacher. she went by a her first name, not the usual ms. whoever, and all the girls were interested in being recognized by her in a familiar, pet-like way. so naturally, just floating along with my peers, i had the half-want of having this recognition, as well. but she had her own impression of me, so mostly i just smiled and tuned her out. i mean, it was gym. not a serious academic grade, so why bother? but as i said, the game changed.

it was time to pick teams for basketball. the gym teacher called out my name and another girl's name for captains for the teams. i grew uneasy. it didnt smell right. my unease was confirmed, because as i stood up, brushed down my gym shorts and stood next to the gym teacher, i heard her say to a pet girl in my class: "this should be good."

the other girl was asked to pick first. she played by the rules and picked the popular girl, who awarded her a smile. inside i was seething. teachers were not supposed to be mean. there was plenty of mean to go around. now she was adding to it.

i opted out.

i chose my best friend as my first pick—she was plucky, too, and i tend to be loyal. the other captain picked the next, popular, capable girl. as she did, the rebellion jelled in my mind: i would pick every girl that was always picked last. two vastly uneven, lopsided teams were being formed: the strong quick and popular girls headed by the most unpopular pick and my team: all of the pluckies of the class, with a dreamer, tuned out, turned-rebellious captain.

i remember standing there, miserable and angry at being used for sport. but the girls that were picked, for once, first—they were excited. they named the team using my last name in the name. why? i grumbled. why bother? i was so angry. my best friend said something about how i was captain and it should be part of the team name. i didn't respond graciously or act graciously. in a john hughes movie, my team—galvanized by being picked first—would rise up and kick the pants of that lousy, popular, capable team. in reality, we were spanked by the capable team. and spanked hard. we played and we played poorly. nothing changed as a result of my rebellion. i don't even know if the teacher had an inkling of my intent.

i know that really soured my perception of sports. later, in college, when i discovered fencing—and that i was somewhat more capable in fencing—i understood more about the importance of sports and the underlying principles and life strategies that the practice teaches you. but then again, it was a sport where you got to poke at people. i understood the value of that particular sport implicitly.

Morgan: Generation YouTube

Well, ain't this place a geographical oddity? Two weeks from everywhere!

- Brother where art thou."

This blog seems to have become a geographical oddity in that Byrne and I seem to have been slowing down. Which is understandable considering how busy we've been lately. She's waking up at 0430 and I'm going to bed then...just kidding. I don't ever want this to become a chore for either one of us. It should be Fun, Fun, Fun. And it still is.

With no encouragement from me, my son (Christopher) has begun to show an interest in something besides video games. His new found hobby is producing short videos, no doubt inspired by all the idiots on You Tube. Him and his friends have formed a production company Vertical Productions for the purpose of making films.


There first undertaking was a zombie film...Last of the Living Brian Hoeg was the director and editor, Christopher was assistant director on this film. Its about 4 minutes long, very suspenseful and well edited. I was impressed and Christopher seemed to have been bitten by the film bug.

He started researching filming techniques and even wrote a script. He found a video demonstrating the construction of a Track dolly Thats when he asked me for my help. I had been watching his interest and wanted to encourage him to continue...so we started a new project. The Track Dolly. The first thing I made him do was create a material list.













Material List
16 Skateboard wheels
32 Bearings
10 ft of 2" angled aluminium
8 - 4" 1/4 inch bolts
16- 2" 1/4 inch bolts
24-1/4 inch nuts
1 2'x4' piece of Plywood
10 ft of 1 inch PVC Pipe



We than went online and purchased 16 skateboard wheels ($40.00) from the SkateShed I should have just purchased the bearings there...but I overlooked that small fact. When the wheels arrived a few days later we decided to go to the Fairfax Surf Shop in search of bearings. It was a good choice as they had bearings...but not enough. We had to buy 3 different brands to get what we needed (32 bearings - $80.00) I made sure they threw in some cool stickers for free.

With all the materials purchased we began construction...oops. We had forgot to purchase the Angled Aluminum. I remember picking it up at Home Depot....hmmm, I checked the receipt. Damn! No Aluminum. We had to go back. $4.00 for gas. I borrowed a portable saw from next door neighbor Col Collins to cut the aluminum. Using my incredibly accurate graphics eye I calculated where to drill the holes.

Christopher said, "Dad shouldn't you use a tape measure?"
"Naaah." I replied, "I don't need one."

When I was assembling the wheels I realized the bolts were too long and I had to disassemble them all and cut about an inch off every bolt with our hack saw. Cutting 16 Bolts with a hack saw is no easy feat. I finished after two days of hacking. Felt like I was breaking out of jail!

Finally it was time for final construction. I couldn't find the 1/4 inch ratchet so I just hand tighten the nuts on to the frame and finally I attached the wheel frame combo to the plywood...sigh, time to take a break. This was a lot like work. I got to admit I was growing weary of the track dolly.

The next morning Christopher informed me that the Dolly was dragging on the track. What? My my wheels were placed to wide? My gestimate drilling was in error? I didn't want to take the track dolly apart...I thought, I would go back to Home Depot and get bigger PVC pipe. Finally I took the dolly apart again and redrilled the inside track, to much success. The dolly was ready for filming.

The next morning (Saturday) we drove the young Speilbergs (Brian Hoeg, Mike Flynn and Christopher Morgan) to the "filming set". They had a script, props, storyboards and the track dolly. I watched as they filmed their different scenes. Kept my eye out to make sure they didn't get run over as they were filming near a busy street. We got some weird looks, but overall everything went well. I haven't seen the movie...but Im sure it will turn out fine. I'm just glad the boy is doing something creative and not just sitting there playing Guitar Hero. I predict in the next five years, thousands of young film directors will be entering film school inspired by You Tube I wish them all good luck!

"Wall Doctor"


Here is another fun Vertical Production
Hey Video

And We'll Have Fun Fun Fun

She loves to laugh
She loves to sing
She does everything
She loves to move
She loves to groove
She loves the lovin things
—Any Way You Want It by Journey

i run a hard and fast life. right now, that means up at 4:30am and back home at 9pm. that means my husband and i communicate with a phone call after work, a kiss with a plate of spaghetti before bed, and a groggy kiss buh-bye before i plug into my ipod for my morning commute.

but something different happened two days ago.

4:30 am and i blindly run my hands along the edge of the bed until i hit my husband's feet, and then its a matter of steps until my fingers hit his face, as always—but something is different. he's awake. and lucid.

so i sit down next to him and make some small chitchat thinking one, two, and i'm on to the workout. but he's being funny. and charming. at 4:30am, people. and after a couple of minutes, i realize—i don't want to work out. i want to talk to my husband. so i shrug, kick my overstuffed workout bag across the room and curl up next to my husband. and we talk.

about the progression of colour changes in kitchen appliances as we grew up.

ok, first of all, we were talking about growing up in the 1970s and i brought up the colour changes of that era: first there was goldenrod. then avocado (AVOCADO! my husband laughed. we had a green stove! that was avocado?) then came harvest, which was a pumpkin orange. while my husband spent part of his misspent youth as an artist, he could only take so much talk about '70s colour palettes.

so then we discussed weird cooking gadgets. like a counter top pizza cooker
or the really odd hot dog cooker someone gave us for christmas. it involved impaling your hot dogs on these electric prongs, which then cooked the hot dog from the inside out. it was also in the shape of a dachsund, this cooker—which just made it all the more slapstick. then it turned out that as a kid, my husband had made a hot dog cooker under the same premise for a school project—only with a wood board, and two nails that were wired up with a stripped down cut off lamp cord. weeeeee! we were roaring with laughter. then we discussed the salad shooter
what a concept! the physical improbability of being able to shoot out a beautiful salad from very different ingredients had us laughing. and then the jingo! salad shooTER! we tried to think of other really simple, two word jingos. we could only come up with: byyyyy MENNEN! which made us roar again. the conversation lasted about an hour. then i finally drug myself out of bed and into the shower.

i glowed for the rest of the day. i even hummed.

i had forgotten how much fun my husband and i can have.
even at 4:30am.

Morgan: Summer Heat

I love the heat of Summer...feeling the hot sun on my head, sweat dripping off my brow. For the past couple weeks I have been playing basketball after work. The blacktop outside tower four radiates the heat like a frying pan. Almost to hot to be outside. But the lure of basketball overcomes the heat and pretty soon I'm drenched with sweat. My knees have been taking a pounding, and it has become extremely painful to jump or run. I recently started wearing a knee wrap which gives me a lot of support. I absolutely love playing there. Its never crowded, someone always wants to play, so we get a three on three game going, until someone has to leave. I'm not the best shooter, but that doesn't matter, I just love to get out there and play.

I had to mow the lawn today...It was the same sun, burning me like an ant under a magnifying glass. Thank god I don't have a big lawn. The novelty of mowing my own lawn wore off years ago and now it truly is a chore to get out there and do my duty every week. I used to bag the grass clippings, now I don't worry about that anymore. Its grass! probably good fertilizer.

Last week we drove up to Atlantic City, New Jersey on hot, humid Friday night. As we got closer to the shore all of the towering casinos glowed a neon red, beaconing all to come and try their luck. I did play poker until three in the morning but what really captivated my attention were the people. Atlantic City tourists are so diverse coming from all over the world, but the majority seems to be from New York City. I watched the People in the casino, People at my poker table. Old people dragging oxygen bottles and smoking cigarettes. Young guys with their baseball caps on backwards and gold chains hanging outside their unbuttoned shirts. Women of all types. Old women with buckets of coins playing slots. Young women with small slinky dresses stumbling back from numerous nightclubs, shouting drunkenly to each other. The next morning we went out to the boardwalk and I did a little more people watching. The glamor of the night before was harshly revealed under the New Jersey sun. People wore less clothing, shorts and tank tops, sandals and flip-flops as they traversed up and down the AC Boardwalk looking sleep deprived. The number of tattoos looked almost epidemic, most ugly designs faded into wrinkled sun burnt skin. Hundreds of Filipinos flocked outside the convention center which advertised a Filipino game show. I could feel myself beginning to sweat profusely, so we hired a boardwalk taxi. It is basically a hand cart that the driver pushes down the center of the boardwalk while attempting to not run over the other tourists. It felt very indulgent to hire the young man to transport us down the hot boardwalk...a guilty pleasure. We passed a group of African-Americans all sporting maroon t-shirts proudly proclaiming the Jones Family reunion of 2008. I noticed an older man walking hand in hand with a Beautiful young woman with decidedly strong Russian facial features, Mail order bride? But the most disturbing thing I saw was a 70 year old man with out his shirt, dancing provocatively next to an ancient boom box. "I'm to sexy for my shirt."
The boardwalk was to hot for me. I was glad to go home.

This morning my (hot) wife and I drove to Sterling, VA to attend the Buddhist Lent Begining Day & Abbot's Birthday Ceremony at the Wat Yarnna Rangsee Buddhist Monastery. Once again it was Hot! The sun was blazing down on a cloudless day. Thai Vendors had set up food stalls all around the outside of the modest Monastery. Thai people wandered from stall to stall sampling the various food delights. We sampled fried plantains, grilled chicken satay. We sat down and slurped a steaming broth of beef and noodles. Making small talk with the strangers sitting at our table. While just as hot as Atlantic City something wholesome about the simple Thai celebration made me forget the sweat running down my back. I leaned back on my little stool and listened to the bald monk singing "only the lonely " with a karaoke machine. Yeah It was hot, but not so bad.

OurGirl: A Few of My Favorite Things

i've come to realize that while list posts are the lazy girl's fall back to a meaningful blog contribution, they are also indispensable when the lazy girl finds the inspiration isn't hitting just right. don't get me wrong, i have many, many topics to discuss—its just the trouble of finding a suitable post for this particular blog. you know, the OurGirl specialty: a rambling tangential post of eosteric minutiae, quirky, with a touch of the everyday mundane that keeps my end of the blog humming along in obscurity.

in order not to disappoint, here is a list of stuff that i am currently interested in:



im a big fan of this for-profit, world-wide microlender—the vineyard blog has had a widget posted on it since its inception, over a year ago. for each kid's birthday, we give them the needed $25 bucks and they sift through kiva's journals and find an the entrepreneur. we loan the entrepreneur the money and follow their journal. it gives the kids an understanding of how other people in different nations work towards improving not only their lives, but their families lives and their community. the kids have grown up inside one family business after another, but its cool to be able to provide them with a global view.

i'm a big fan of wikispaces. in my grad studies, i find it invaluable. we set up a wikispace, everyone joins, and instead of sifting through endless emails, we have a highly participatory repository of pages, links, uploads and discussions. we can even see the history of each page's edits, if so desired.

widgets are addictive. i've made widgets for my vineyard blog, my etsy shop, and for other people's websites. i find sproutbuilder really intuitive to use and post. experiment yourself!

Morgan: Creativity, it's a Mutha'

Creativity is inventing, experimenting, growing, taking risks, breaking rules, making mistakes, and having fun.

- Mary Lou Cook

Wow! The 100th Post. Should I feel nervous? Is this one small step for this Man? One giant leap for who? I got to confess, I didn't think we would ever make 100. Writer's Block, Severe Climate Change and Mid-life Career Switches. We almost didn't make it many times over. I went on Sabbatical, Our Girl took a break. It's OK to take a break. The writing really has been a joy...sometimes. It's certainly therapeutic. So without further ado, Let the 100th Begin!

Creativity (or 'creativeness") is a mental process involving the generation of new ideas or concepts, or new associations of the creative mind between existing ideas or concepts. Sounds easy right?

From a scientific point of view, the products of creative thought are usually considered to have both orginality and appropriateness. I like to think a little simpler, creativity is simply the act of making something new. Sounds easy right?

Although intuitively a simple phenomenon, it is in fact quite complex...sometimes it's a mutha'.

Creativity has been attributed variously to divine intervention, Cognitive processes, the social environment, personality traits and my favorite lucky chance. It has been associated with genius, mental illness and humor. Some say it is a trait we are born with; others say it can be taught with application of simple techniques.

Although usually associated with art and literature, it is also essential part of innovation and invention and is important in all professions.

I've always wanted to create...design, build something unique and cool. Before I joined the Air Force I wanted to be a Graphic Designer. During high school I took as many art classes as possible. I drew, painted and sculpted and slowly the idea began form that possibly, maybe I could do this for a living. But instead of going away to Art School...I joined the US Air Force. I didn't go to Texas unprepared, I took my porfolio and two letters of recommendation, with me. It must have helped the poor guy in charge of choosing our destiny, because 8 weeks later I was flying to Denver for a crash course in Air Force graphics. I had found what I was looking for. The Air Force appreciated what I did. My perspective was perfect for communicating their ideas visually. I did well and made a 20 year career out of it. As the years went by I rose through the ranks and with every promotion I got further and further away from my creativity, until finally the people I worked with didn't even know I could draw.
That's why I was so excited to get this job as a graphic designer, complete with a sobering pay cut. I was returning to my roots. I was going home. I was rusty at first...compared with my fresh young coworkers I was positively archaic. But I see myself getting better with each Job. Sometimes the initial idea stage is overwhelming...but I'm an idea guy. Now I just have to implement them.

So I ran across this pretty Cool Meme that helps with the creative process by making it random. I started creating CD Covers using the following rules, listed below. I think I'll use this process at work, it might just be a hit! Whats a meme?

About CD Cover Meme

Always wanted to be in a rock band?
Well here's your chance...sort of. Make your own CD Cover with the following steps and rocket yourself to mult-platinum status and start fending off the groupies.

1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first article title on the page is the name of your band.

2. www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four words of the very last quote is the title of your album.

3. www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days/
The third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

I did 11 covers, I think they turned out pretty good.
Tell me which one is your favorite.

OurGirl: Walsh's Despair 2.0

walshie walked into the cubbie, sat down in his chair, dragged himself over to the pennisula and in reverent tones announced: "they did it again. they are genius. i don't know how they keep topping themselves, but they do."

i peered over my faux hand-thrown coffee mug with the word "inspiration" half stamped into it and asked, "who?"

"despair.com! they now have a whole do-it-yourself store. its genius i tell you. you can upload your own image, type in your own quote and make your own poster. genius."

i've posted before about walsh's love for despair.com. i even bought the "more people have seen this shirt than have read my blog" shirt and wore it in on casual friday, just to make the dude smile. my brother just shook his head. "i ain't buying that dork shirt."

"walsh—omg! they are having their users generate content for them!"
"even better. they will sell you the poster you make. custom poster!"
"wait—tell me they are keeping a gallery of their users generated content. that way, if you try to make your own content and you just aren't funny, you could then look at what others have made and then buy their posters. omg! then the user could get a cut of the action—a percentage off the top! tell me they are doing that!!"

walsh looked at me and said, "they don't have to. they are genius. check out the clown funeral poster."

so at home i look into despair.com. and i do have to tell you, the despairware grey t-shirt with with the words: "THE TIME FOR ACTION HAS PASSED. now is the time for senseless bickering" really speaks to me right now. but i tore myself away from the on sale shirts and checked out the DIY section. there are the posters—even the clown funeral one walsh had talked about. so i couldn't help myself. i uploaded an image, wrote a couple of quick lines and made a poster for walsh:


are you kidding me? that laughing you are hearing? that's walsh. monkeys are genius.

OurGirl: Inept Spirit Guide

Sent a letter on a long summer day; Made of silver, not of clay; Ive been runnin down this dusty road; Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin; I dont know where Ill be tomorrow; Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin —Wheel in the Sky, Journey

so i'll be your spirit guide for these next two posts and then morgie will take on our big 100 post. buckle up, bette, its gonna be a bumpy ride.

art by li wei. visit www.liwei.com

i have a subscription to the Morning Newletter and i heartily encourage all to visit their gallery, in particular. they feature contemporary work and give an interview with the artists. i've mentioned a few of the artists before in this blog—but li wei's work takes my breath away. When i first saw his work i had flash backs to 9/11 and thought, no, no—this is just too soon. but i was struck by the image's terrible beauty and wanted to see more and understand more of this contemporary artist. i realize i see the art—and life— through my very human, very venial perspective first—and then i come to a larger understanding.

sort of like my friend, tony's video art of his real life struggle with cancer:


so, not knowing too many van morrison's songs (i get him mixed up with boz scaggs), i check into Tony's blog, see his video through my venial lens—here, put on my glasses: these are terrible images. cancer is no joke. its scary and its painful. tony is brave and i dig his sense of humor. so what i see is these terrible images juxtaposed against what sounds to my uneducated ear like hospital elevator music. so i think this is tony being brave and funny and i laugh in appreciation at what i perceive to be his black humor while my husband just shakes his head at me.

then i read more about li wei. and i listen further and carefully to lyrics in tony's video music.

did ye get healed? van morrison.
I wanna know did you get the feelin'?
Did you get it down in your soul?
I wanna know did you get the feelin'?
And did the feelin' grow?

Sometimes, when the spirit moves me
I can do many wondrous things
I wanna know when the spirit moves you
Did ye get healed?

wow. yes, i realize i'm a terrible bonehead. and i'm sure tony gets that, too. but the larger view is that a shift in perspective happened. take a look at something. then look at it from another angle. so this is how li wei sees how westerners perceive his work:

For Li Wei, 2003 was a prolific year, It was above all the first year that I managed to maintain myself as an artist, thanks to a number of exhibitions in Asia and the West, which increased the number of buyers~,. Before the last cup of tea melts, I point out that there is a kind of expectation in the art world of the West, an expectation that something new will happen and that the "new wave" will be from Asia, in particular China. Westerners are not acquainted with eastern culture and perhaps that's why you expect all sorts from us. Then, when they look at our works, even when they say they know ' China, if they don't see some "Chinese" element then they turn their noses up at theme http://www.liweiart.com/ART/liwei/Review.htm/200505PROTAGONISTI.htm

wei, i never saw anything 'chinese' in your art. i saw a familiar danger. i felt a wave of familiar sickening horror. then when i dug deeper into the series i felt relief at the photos of you returning to safety, and hope in the panicky face of the woman that embraces your return back to the building. because i'm american. and i love happy endings, right? and how many times are there happy endings in real life? in my western mind, i felt he's expressing that moment of panicky fleeing from whatever. but this is what he was expressing:

"The piece expresses a yearning for a happier and freer space of existence," Li offers, but he's dispensing with the backstory. His choice of location for the piece is significant. In 2003, the Jianwai SOHO tower from which he dangles was the latest in a series of real estate projects bankrolled by Pan Shiyi, the Donald of Beijing(almost literally-he was recently invited by Trump to takeover the boardroom chair in a proposed Asian edition of The Apprentice, but after negotiations, declined). Pan, who is generally credited with igniting the real estate frenzy that has resulted in today's Central Business District, is to many a visionary. His vertically-oriented, mixed-use micro-cities have become de rigueur for Beijing's property developers, ushering in a new era for Beijing's urban landscape and identity. In much the same way that Li seeks to alert us to the construction of reality by toying with the fantastic, Pan's efforts show us how not just dreams, but the basic structures of daily life-how we circulate and interact within social space-can be re-imagined and made real, The "freer space of existence" that Li speaks of can be viewed as an awareness of these social constructions and of their mutability.

a change in perspective, another letter in clay, not silver. please feel free to move about the country. amen.

Morgan: Big Ups to you Pops!

One of my earliest memories is, I remember working with dad in the garage. I remember being his second set of hands, assisting him in whatever kind of odd job we happen to be performing that day, welding, plumbing,electrical work or carpentry. He taught me all the different names for each tool and what they did. "Go get me 5/8 wrench...no thats a 3/16" I remember hammering nails with dad and taking nails out to recycle the lumber...and the nails. He was always working...he had to support us. It must have been always on his mind. He would even work on the weekends. And I would travel with him for hours to help and mostly watch him work. I always brought a book and sometimes I would read to him while he worked.
In the spring he would till the earth as the rest of us followed and planted symmetrical lines of tomatoes, beans, corn and the list would get bigger every year. Sometimes we would go out to weed or pick overly ripen tomatoes in the failing light of the day...I guess we had been working and we had a little more to do.
I remember bringing my father his lunch. And he would sit down with us and eat heartily from a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken, steaming bowls of potato salad and polish it off with an cold RC cola. He wouldn't tarry long and was soon back to his work.
My father's main occupation was welding. He had always been a welder. His father was a welder. All of his brothers were welders. It was a tough bunch of denim wearing men. My grandfather had followed the construction of gas pipelines across America and Canada after the war. He traveled with his whole family, wife and five kids in a motorhome...following the construction. They eventually ended up in Illinois and thats were Grandpa bought the 15 acres which would be known as "The Farm"
For a little boy the Farm was a magical kingdom of exploration, work, playing and work. My siblings and I would traipse through the cow pastures following the well worn cow paths. Down past the many gardens, past the old junkyard of abandoned trucks and cars to the river.
Dad didn't like us to go down there without an adult. We would have to go down there to turn the irrigation pump off at night.
Dad was always working on cars or trucks. trying to extend their life. We would scour junkyards looking or usable transmissions, axles or engines. When we had enough scrap metal we would load the truck up and take it to the scrap yard where they would weigh the truck and pay us for it. There was Pigs and chickens to be butchered. One time we butchered a goat...but I don't think Dad like that to much.
People respected him for his talents and knowledge. People from church were always asking him to do jobs, plumbing, electrical, carpentry. I don't know if he ever made money out of those deals or not. The local farmers respected him for his welding talents, for they were always damaging their huge 10 wheeled tractors. Dad would fix them.
We cut many trees down in those days as we heated our house with wood to save money. Dad always handled the chainsaw notching the tree just right. attaching the cable if he want to encourage the tree to fall a certain way. After the exciting fall of the tree it was more work. He would cut the tree up in manageable chunks and we would heave them into the back of the pickup truck until it springs could handle no more. We usually had to make a few trips to get all the wood home.
But for all his toughness and hard work ethic he always had time for us kids, a hug, a joke, a word of encouragement. And while some people would say he worked to much. I counter by saying he did what he had to, for his family. He did it because he loved us. Happy Father's day Dad.

OurGirl: Class of 2008 Commencement Address

Sunshine go away today, I don't feel much like dancin'
Some man's gone, he's tried to run my life
Don't know what he's askin'

He tells me I'd better get in line Can't hear what he's sayin'
When I grow up, I'm gonna make it mine These ain't dues I been payin'

How much does it cost? I'll buy it. The time is all we've lost. I'll try it.
He can't even run his own life, I'll be damned if he'll run mine
Sunshine

Sunshine. lyrics by Jonathan Edwards

this past weekend, i attended a high school graduation. i remember my graduation being long and boring, but this attendance was quick and meaningful—this is most likely as i am older now and have less life to live. rimshot! but i have to say, its cool to be on this side of the fence and just be an observer of the day. very freeing not to be the grad, thinking about the future and decisions needing to be made. very freeing not to be the parent of the grad, thinking about their future and all their decisions needing to be made. the grad ceremony i attended featured a motivational speaker and he lived up to his title. pretty motivating. as i listened, i thought—excellent blog topic—let's give a commencement address. i've been running into troubles being inspired to post on the blog. stories about how i don't own a microwave or how my kids watch youtube instead of tv seem pretty lackluster. so i set up a rough draft of the blog and then googled some commencement speeches, just to check out the competition. after hitting some awesome speeches, i realized i had nothing particularly brilliant to discuss.

lackluster, even.

there is no way my life would be considered inspirational or even a cautionary tale. its not that i don't love my life—i do—its more along the lines of looking at someone who is at the start of their adult lives and thinking: "Yeh. I got nothing for you."

i have, however, plenty of advice for my son who is too young to graduate:

• GET SERIOUS ABOUT KEYBOARDING. ITS A GPA BUILDER, SON!
• DONT TALK BACK TO ME
• TAKE A LOOK AROUND YOU, FOR PETE'S SAKE!
• JUST BECAUSE THEY DO, DOESNT MEAN YOU CAN OR THAT I WILL LET YOU
• THE CRANE MACHINE GAME IS FOR SUCKERS. PROMISE ME YOU WON'T GO TO VEGAS WHEN YOU GROW UP.

and on and on. but by the time kids reach the end of their high school careers, all that sort of talk falls on a closed mind. i can tell you from experience it falls on 11 year old closed minds as well.

so even tho most aren't listening, here are a few things i think would be most relevant to share:

• don't be afraid to not commit to anything. i think whenever i look back, the areas of my life i'm not the most enthusiastic about are when i rushed into committing to a decision and then sticking to it. because i made a commitment.
• don't be afraid to say: this is over my head or this isnt what i want to do. be brave to extricate yourself from any commitment you were foolish enough to take on.
• don't be afraid to follow your passion. it will make you most happy, even when you aren't happy.
• don't be afraid of expressing enthusiasm. its stupid, but people will look at you and think dork. but every once in a while, you'll find someone who shares that particular enthusiasm and then they are totally grateful you are sharing with them. and that feels good.
• don't be afraid. i'm only added that in because i seem to be on an unintentional tear about being afraid. whatever.
  

here are a links to speeches better than my post:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/samantha-power/message-to-graduates-be-a_b_103886.html
http://www.commencement.harvard.edu/2003/ferrell.html
http://www.wm.edu/news/?id=3650
http://blog.guykawasaki.com/2006/01/hindsights.html

A tale of two Princess brides

My wife Colette has lead an interesting life and as she tells intriguing tales of her adventures, I listen...because I'm her husband. Recently she began telling another, as we sat in the kitchen she told me the story of two princesses and how she was close friends with one of them.

In the mid 80's my wife befriended a mixed African-Vietnamese woman about twelve years her senior and the two quickly became as close as sisters. Her name was Martine Bokassa. Martine and Colette met in Nancy, France worked and traveled together, even shared an apartment for a time. Martine was especially helpful during the birth of Colette's daughter Christine. One day Colette heard a very interesting rumor that her friend was actually the Princess of the Central African Republic.

Colette asked her friend "Are you the Princess?"

Looking shocked, Martine replied, "don't believe everything you hear."

She was very reluctant to discuss it further, but slowly her story emerged.

Her father, Jean-Bedel Bokassa joined the Free French Army in 1939 and took part in both World War II and the Vietnam War in the 1950s, and was decorated several times for his courage, with the Croix de Guerre. In February 195o her father, a sergeant in the French army in Indochina, said goodbye to his two-month-old daughter Martine and her Vietnamese mother, Nguyen Thi Hue and left Vietnam for good.
In 1961, Bokassa resigned from the French army and returned home to what is now Central African Republic. Within five years, Bokassa had taken power in a military coup and soon declared himself president for life.
In November 1970, after years of searching, Bokassa—now President of the remote little Central African Republic and the father of eleven children by his present wife—received word that the South Vietnamese government had found his first family. Martine, a shapely Saigon shopgirl, flew 11,000 miles to Bangui, her father's capital. Though she arrived at 4:30 a.m., a visibly moved Bokassa and thousands of his cheering countrymen were on hand to greet her.

But the daughter was an imposter.

In 1970 the Saigon newspaper Trang Den reported on this story very closely, The real Martine was intrigued with this fairy tale story and read everything she could. Studying newspaper photos she became convinced that the photos of President Bokassa was really her father. She tentatively went to a newspaper man with the story. In early 1971, the Vietnamese newspaper, Saigon Trang Den, revealed the sensational news that "Martine" was not Bokassa's daughter, but a fraud and that the real Martine was still in Vietnam living with her mother.

A few more weeks later, the real Martine arrived in Bangui; this time to no public reception and no media waiting at the airport. Bokassa was angry and accused France of planting a "spy" in his family. He threatened to deport the false Martine, but changed his mind after the French embassy in Bangui intervened, and instead adopted her as his own daughter on his 50th birthday in 1971. The real Martine was now called Martine Kota. She was a bit taller than her adopted sister. And, during something akin to a public auction, Bokassa offered both of them in marriage. Hundreds of young Central African men bid for the two girls. The eventual winners were a doctor and an army officer.

At a big, sumptuous wedding in Palacio de la Renaissance in 1973, which was attended by several heads of state, Martine Kota was married to the doctor, Jean-Bruno Deveavode, and the false Martine ended up with the army officer, Fidel Obrou.

Martine Kota had three children in this marriage; the first born was JB, while the false Martine had one child with her husband.

Three years later, in 1976, Fidel Obrou was executed for an attempted coup against Bokassa. As fate would have it, the false Martine was at the same time in a Bangui hospital giving birth to a son.

Two weeks after the birth, JB's father, the doctor Jean-Bruno Deveavode, killed the newborn with a lethal injection, apparently on the direct orders of the then President for Life, Jean Bedel Bokassa himself.

Then, on the first anniversary of Fidel Obrou's execution, the false Martine disappeared forever during a car ride to the Bangui airport, officially on her way back home to Vietnam. Two of Bokassa's bodyguards were alleged to have strangled her and hid her body somewhere along the road.

After the coup in 1979 that overthrew Bokassa, Martine Kota, JB and his younger brother and sister managed to escape to France. Martine's husband, Jean-Bruno Deveavode, was arrested and executed in 1981 after admitting that he killed the false Martine's child. While in France, Martine Kota and her children were forced into a new and completely different life. Together with her mother, Nguyen Thi Hue, Martine today runs two Vietnamese restaurants in France, one of them on the island of Corsica. And, rather wisely, she refuses to talk about her father. "For my mother, he was a husband; and for me he was a father," is all Martine will volunteer.

Colette lost contact with Martine in the late 80's. I started doing a little research and found Martine's son, Jean-Barthelemy Bokassa has recently published a book "Diamonds of Treason" about his mother's life story and we sent him a note asking to be put in contact with his mother.


Publish Post

OurGirl: Dear God, What is THAT

that's a line from the Princess Bride:

Westley: I wasn't finished. The next thing you will lose will be your left eye followed by your right.
Prince Humperdinck: And then my ears, I understand let's get on with it.
Westley: WRONG. Your ears you keep and I'll tell you why. So that every shriek of every child at seeing your hideousness will be yours to cherish. Every babe that weeps at your approach, every woman who cries out, "Dear God! What is that thing," will echo in your perfect ears. That is what to the pain means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever.
Prince Humperdinck: I think your bluffing.

i ain't bluffing, either. i've swallowed my pride and i've done it. i've created an etsy store called chesapeake street. and it sells shell art that i create. see right column.

very funny. shut up.

ok, first, shell art kept me sane during a career transition. anyone familiar with me knows my not so secret hobby that i would rather not talk about but feel compelled to, anyway. if you don't know, here's the bare bones.

me loves sailor valentines and 18th century victorian shell art. i own books about it. i even started making my own posies out of shells. and selling it on ebay. it helped keeping me sane and when i landed where i landed and made a ton of new friends and then the vineyard kicked in and i started grad studies so i lost time and the hobby went into hiatus.

but i still have the detritus and the desire to do more craft. no. i only own one cat. why do you ask?

so my brother pointed out etsy, but that was back in the day, so i went uh-huh, really trying to put that behind me, you know? and didn't act on it. don't want to be that crafty-girl. then my girl graciously accepted a little shadow box i put together for her birthday. and she hung it in her bathroom. and i dug that.

i started thinking. i've got to unload some of the pieces i've done. it would clear out space in my office/second living space no one uses. it would make my husband happy. we had agreed i would not cover the house in my creations. he did say that if i did go mad that he would donate my output to the american visionary art museum. i liked the idea it might sit in the same room as the throne made out of tin foil.

you know, its just one of those john-hughes-esque movie lines where the hard core chickie-boo that competes hard, talks big and works her heart out turns out to have a very soft nougat-ey centers that enjoys making tiny, tiny effete flowers out of seashells and adhesives. i'll learn to live with it and your comments. walsh, morgan and andy are not allowed to purchase anything from the store w/o prior permission as i think that will crush me to have those two separate worlds collide like that.

the rest of the world need not seek my permission for buying my stuff or for anything else they may need. just saying. heh.

Morgan: Rhino Trek

What does a Rhino, an Iphone, a Canon Powershot SD400 and Macromedia Fireworks have in common?

Why the debut of the much anticipated, light hearted and whimsical travel blog Rhino Trek!

Before my trip to Greece, Byrne suggested that I take along my spirit guide and photograph him in exotic locales. Byrne always has good ideas...but the whole expedition almost never happened.
Weeks before the trip, I looked all over the Morgan household for my little friend. I fear that he met with an untimely demise. I was appalled, how could I have misplaced my battle standard before the big soirée? The weekend before the flight I went searching for a replacement Rhino. I went to Toy's R Us...but that was a dead end. "Do you have a rhino?" the blank look on the haggard employees face gave me the answer. Nooooo! I finally found Rhino V2.0 at Target. Yes! they have a whole aisle dedicated to Rhino fans and their assorted paraphernalia...who knew?

I put the little Rhino in my backpack and we flew to Greece. I forgot all about him. I was preoccupied with everything around me the sights, smells and food. The history, monuments and temples. Rhino almost never made it out of the backpack. Then one evening my wife was digging through the pack, probably repacking in her never ceasing workaholic frenzy. When she pulled out the Rhino and said, "What's this?"
"uhhh thats my Rhino", as I tried explaining the ambitious concept to her. She looked at me with raised eyebrows.

The next day I carried the Rhino in my pocket, looking for the perfect photo opportunity. When the moment came I was surprised to find I was a little embarrassed. Here I was a grown man on a tour of historical Greece and I was pulling a Rhino out of my pants to photograph. The majority of our fellow tourist looked at me with raised eyebrows. I shrugged my shoulders. How could I explain this?

For the next couple of days I would discreetly photograph my Rhino when no one was around. On the final day before departure, we traveled up to the Acropolis. It was a beautiful day, sunny yet not to hot and very crowded. I took all the obligatory normal photos, dreading the moment when I knew I would have to release the Rhino for his portrait.
"C'mon lets go! I've had enough of rubble, lets go shopping!" My wife declared.
"uhhhh wait a minute I need to take one more shot."
Swallowing my pride I stoically remove the Rhino from my pocket and marched down past throngs of tourists from all over the world. And with my back to them I couched down next to a block of marble, carefully positioned the Rhino just so. Bent down even further, I think my ass was higher than my head and took the perfect photo. When I turned around hundreds of tourists were staring at me, with raised eyebrows.

OurGirl: Notes From a Far Away Place

no, i don't have anything to compare to rhino's quest for the primordial bellybutton of humanity and existence. i'm just kickin' back and enjoying that ride.

i have been having some larger than thou experiences, so i get what he's been talking about. mine are just of a smaller, more olfactory nature. smells are a powerful thing. each one of my boys had their own unique baby odor. im certain i could have picked my baby out of a crowd blind-folded.

my recent smell-experience made me weep.
[men, feel free to leave NOW]

the moment the top note odor hit my passages, i was transported back to being a child, in my paternal grandma's kitchen. yeh, proust covered involuntary memory, first. i know. but i was on my laptop, the smell hit me and suddenly i was profoundly grateful that my husband sent me back to my primordial bellybutton, my grandparents, both now gone.

and it may have been the flu i've been battling that makes me a little weepy, but even the flu struck an involuntary memory chord. what adult, in the grips of the dreaded flu, does not long for their mother's cool hand brushing back their hair? or the kisses that desire for nothing but for you to be well again? did your mother wipe your face with a cool cloth? those things were paramount in my adult mind, tuesday, as i shivered under my think goose-down comforter, waiting out the bug. being an adult can be miserable. my new toast: may you always have a comforting hand at your most ill. ok. i need to work on that. but you get my point.

for those still with me, here's the recipe to making your kitchen smell like my grandma's:

saute onion and garlic in a little oil
add something, anything, meaty.

then, peel and slice a cucumber.
for added authenticity, sprinkle vinegar over the cucumber.


want to play proust yourself? take this survey i found here.

Morgan: Grecian Perspective

I've been thinking for weeks on how I could write about our adventures in Greece. Its hard to describe but our trip had a profound effect on me on many levels. Most people who travel to Greece are impressed by how old their ancient civilization is. However the opposite happened to me. I took along Carl Sagan's Cosmos to read on the plane and bus and before bed. It was an interesting coincidence that part of the book explored the discovery of Science on the the Grecian Isle of Io. The book is really great even though it was written 28 years ago. In its descriptions of the formation of stars and planets, which happened "billions and billions" of years ago I wouldn't say I had an epiphany but was very close to understanding how young humankind really is. Which was an odd perspective considering I was standing in the cradle of western civilization.

Who are we? We find that we live on an insignificant planet of a humdrum star lost in a galaxy tucked away in some forgotten corner of a universe in which there are far more galaxies than people.

Carl Sagan
US astronomer & popularizer of astronomy (1934 - 1996)

I really did enjoy traveling with my wife and watching her learn and be awed by the the historical sites we visited. Ok I was impressed also. Our favorite place had to be Delphi situated in the mountains above the Sea of Olives. The temperature was perfect, cool and sunny as we climbed the mountain to the oracle of Delphi. There were not a lot of people that morning and as the sun finally peeked over the mountains, I could see past the ruins in front of us, back through time. I could see the temples and monuments as they used to be. I could see people gathering in the amphitheater to watch a play or hear a concert. Occupation of the site at Delphi can be traced back to the Neolithic period with extensive occupation and use beginning in the Mycenaean period (1600-1100 B.C). Most of the ruins that survive today date from the most intense period of activity at the site in the 6th century BC. Yeah, that means old!

I began thinking of how young we were as technological society. And how much we are changing the planet with our toxic emissions and consumption of resources. I began to wonder how much longer can we exist as technological adolescents, will we survive to maturity? or cause our own demise. These issues and questions are so much bigger than one man...or are they? Maybe I can recycle more, consume less, conserve energy.

Finally I just want to say what a joy it is to travel with my wife. To take a break from the everyday grind of life and do something so different is rejuvenating to the spirit and refreshing for the mind. Exploration of new cultures and ancient societies gives us an appreciation of where we came from and what we have. Our Greek adventure didn't change my perspective...It just gave me a new lense to peer through.

OurGirl: Purho's Petri Dish of Games

i found out i'm currently receiving a A in managing public organizations (heh. dork.), but i feel like a total underachiever ever since i downloaded crayon physics from http://www.kloonigames.com/blog/

the blogs caretaker and feeder is petri purho, a 24 year old computer science engineer from helsinki. in his about himself bio area, petri explains:

The point of this blog is I try to crank out an experimental game every month. I was inspired by Experimental Gameplay Project, so I try to follow their rules. Basically this means that every game I create I have to make within 7-day limit, they have to made by me alone and they have to test some new form of gameplay.

gah. mind is slowing....calcifying...brain...waves slowing dowwwwnnnnnn......i feel so old. really, petri—an experimental game every month? show off. but petri, you are so cool—you are my 10 year old's new superhero. i would immediately adopt you, myself. what a great mind you have!

i downloaded crayon physics immediately on my mac but couldn't get it to work and then headed over to the pc everyone in my family disdains, but is really pretty useful, especially in times like these. i managed to play a couple of rounds before the family, unused to seeing momma at the pc, came running over to see what she was doing. that was the end of the game for me. it captivated everyone in the family. its simply elegant. petri, let us know when that full version comes out. we will be purchasing this one.

i think you should look at making games for the ipod, too.

for the rest of you not familiar with petri's work, here is the game on youtube.

Morgan: Layover In Amsterdam

I'll have to check the archives but this could potentially beat Byrne as the First International Post on our blog...ever. I just got done with a week in Athens, and I have a five hour layover here in Amsterdam, Netherlands. Instead of leaving the airport and going into town we decided to kill the time here in the airport. First my wife went shopping, Chocolate by the kilo....I waited. Then she decided to shop for glasses...I waited, patiently holding fifty kilos of chocolate than we argued about me sighing....sigh. She don't like that. Than we had Irish stew and a beer at Murphy's restaurant. We got to get rid of all these silly Euro's before we come home. I got eight minutes left so I better post this before I have to pay another 6 euros for thirty minutes...or is that kilominutes, I'm not sure. I 'll write more later about Hellas and my observations of Greek culture...I'm running out of time! 00:03 minutes left ahhhhhh!

OurGirl: My First Intentional Playlist

mark the date. 14 march 08.

why?

i've purchased and assembled my first music playlist.











yeh. if i was really motivated, i would have embedding the sound of crickets as well. or the sound of my boys' dramatic sound bite: da-da-da-daaaaahhhh!

but this is really something. i'm actually pretty jazzed to have music. dont get me wrong, i still loves me lectures, but i'm going a bit slower and trying to let my brain process a bit better, now that i know better.

also, i promise that this will be my last list blog.

so here is the playlist (wait til you get a load of this). and no, this isn't a definitive collection. this is just a few songs from my way-back machine that buoys my spirit. and i sing to these songs as well. so when you pass a certain car that girl in that car? could be me. and i'm singing along to:

1. somethin' stupid
   nancy sinatra and frank
2. higher ground
   UB40
3. Red, Red Wine
   UB40
4. Come and Get Your Love
   Redbone
5. Gimme Little Sign
   Brenton Wood
6. Shambala
   Three Dog Night
7. Black & White
   Three Dog Night
8. Never Been to Spain
   Three Dog Night
9. Dancing in the Moonlight
   King Harvest
10. Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)

AND i've got my eye on a few albums. WAY! here they are:

1. philly soul—featuring the incomparable Me and Mrs. Jones; When Will I See You Again; and the most passionate songs, EVER, by Harold Melvin and the Blue Notes: Don't Leave Me This Way and If You Dont Know Me By Now
2. Kiko: Los Lobos—Saint Behind the Glass; Whiskey Trail; Reva's House; Just a Man
3. The Very Best of Hall and Oates—Rich Girl; Sara Smile; Out of Touch; and the dreamy One on One
4. So Far So Good: Bryan Adams— yeh. another anthology. but really. Summer of 69!
   
5. Home: Dixie Chicks—Truth No.2; A Home; Long Time Gone
6. Aquarium: Aqua—You know it! Barbie Girl; Doctor Jones
   

OurGirl: His and Her Great Cinematic Speeches

with rhino supertramping across greece, my husband—the irish king—graciously agreed to fill in. i work best with a blog muse. plus, this gets him out of the pruning post he is supposed to be working on for our vineyard blog, so he's happy to oblige.

ever since boy1 displayed his formidable laser-like intensity and indomitable will, the irish king has looked at his progeny and quoted theatrically:

....Well, one man came close. Went by the name of Homer. Seven feet tall, he was, with arms like tree trunks, and eyes like steel: cold and hard. Had a shock of hair. Red, like the fires of Hell.

so much for cinematic speeches. he just told me that was from the simpsons.

whatever.

his vote: quint's indianapolis speech from jaws:

so, eleven hundred men went into the water. 316 men came out, the sharks took the rest, June the 29th, 1945. Anyway, we delivered the bomb.

her vote: octavian's marc anthony is dead speech, cleopatra

Antony is dead? You say that as if it were an everyday occurence. The soup is hot, the soup is cold. Antony is alive, Antony is dead."

his vote: office space, the bobs:

Peter Gibbons: The thing is, Bob, it's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just don't care.
Bob Porter: Don't... don't care?
Peter Gibbons: It's a problem of motivation, all right? Now if I work my ass off and Initech ships a few extra units, I don't see another dime; so where's the motivation? And here's something else, Bob: I have eight different bosses right now.
Bob Slydell: I beg your pardon?
Peter Gibbons: Eight bosses.
Bob Slydell: Eight?
Peter Gibbons: Eight, Bob. So that means that when I make a mistake, I have eight different people coming by to tell me about it. That's my only real motivation is not to be hassled; that, and the fear of losing my job. But you know, Bob, that will only make someone work just hard enough not to get fired.

her favorite: jerry maguire, this used to be my specialty:

Jerry: Hello. I’m looking for my wife.

Dorothy: Wait…

Jerry: If this is where it has to happen, then this is where it has to happen. I’m not letting you get rid of me. How about that?

[beat]

Jerry: This used to be my specialty. I was good in a living room. And now, I just… Tonight… our little company had a very big night. A very, very big night. But it wasn’t complete. It wasn’t nearly close to being complete. Because I couldn’t share it with you. I couldn’t hear your voice. I couldn’t laugh about it with you. I missed my wife. We live in a cynical world. And we work in a business of tough competitors. I love you. You… complete me. And I just…

Dorothy: Shut up! You had me at “hello”. You had me at “hello”.

his n' her favorites: glengarry glen ross:

A-B-C. A-Always, B-Be, C-Closing. Always be closing, always be closing.

Put. That coffee. Down.
[pause]
Coffee's for closers only.

OurGirl: 5 favorite words i do not use

The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say. ~Anaïs Nin

words i like but never use. its a curse to have a love of words and yet not care enough to learn how to pronounce them. ask walsh. i have a couple of acronyms i mangle on a daily basis.

1. unctuous: in this case, full, rich, buttery, oily
2. oeuvre: a work of art
3. perspicacious: acutely perceptive
4. contretemps: a dispute, an inopportune incident
5. halcyon: calm, peaceful, prosperous

Exploration and Discovery

I believe the inquisitive mind is the elixir of youth. To bad I didn't realize this until midlife. I truly enjoy learning from people, experiences, and through my reading. Today at work a friend of mine, came by the cubicle. He saw what I was working on and made a few alternate suggestions on how to accomplish what I was trying to do. I'm not proud of my first response, which was to immediately go on the defensive and shut him out as a know-it-all, meddler. But I checked myself and quickly realized I needed to listen to his advise. Here was a true friend willing to share his knowledge and I almost blew it. I apologized and encouraged him to continue. 30 seconds of collaboration and my project looked 1000% better.

Its easy to become complacent in my daily routine. Get up, shower, schlep to work, go home and repeat the next day. Boring? I try to keep it lively, but all work and no play makes Morgan a dull boy! Thats why this vacation to Greece with my wife means so much to me. We are going on a great adventure to one of oldest civilizations in the world. We are embarking on a voyage of exploration and discovery. Of what? I don't know, but I'll share it with you when I find it.

We do not ask for what useful purpose the birds do sing, for song is their pleasure since they were created for singing. Similarly, we ought not ask why the human mind troubles to fathom the secrets of the heavens...The diversity of the phenomena of nature is so great, and the treasures hidden in the heavens so rich, precisely in order that the human mind shall never be lacking in fresh nourishment.
-- Johannes Kepler, Mysterium Cosmographicum

OurGirl: Affairs of the Heart

confession: this is what i'm listening to on my 'pod.


Beach Walk 595 - Cranky Geeklt;/a>

i know. i know. i'm nearly whimpering as i type this. what have i become? i'm my own worst nightmare.

its like the green eggs and ham story and i'm that guy who has steadfastly refused the suspicious culinary delights of the green ovums and slice of the porcine. and then beat down, exhausted, and weary, i capitulate and try it.

and i relax.

and i feel better for the first time since...hmmm...shortly before harvest, this past september.

lets be clear here. i don't buy her. not the seemingly perpetual cheeriness or the wide open arms of acceptance...at any other time in my life i would just dismiss her.

now i need her.

its the lilting hawaiian music intro music. its the sound of her talking very positively, very assuredly. happy chatter. light. foamy bits of nothing. and then the sound of the rushing waves hitting the sand, pushing it forward and pulling it back into place like once giant therapeutic massage of noise. i don't watch her, i really find her distracting. but i do listen to her. if i have trouble falling asleep, i walk the beach with rox over and over until i get the sleeping part right.

did i type that?

i've made no bones about the fact i have great people involved in my life. there are a few people i know that are going through some shaky ground right now. i watch them real careful-like—the same way i watch my kids. a wait-ful watch. ready to fly at any threat, ready to fly to their rescue, but here, i am hopeless. they aren't my kids, these are grownups. most likely, i wouldnt be of much rescue or saving value, even if they wanted or needed the effort. things are a bit crazy on my end as well.

so i will settle for telling you, all my friends going through some scary stuff: i love you. and i worry for you. and when i give you a small loaf of my homemade bread, i'm telling you that i'm glad you've made it, glad you landed on safe ground—although it may not be the same ground that you were aiming to land upon. i was really scared. i'm glad you are here.

happy you made it.