UNC in Final Four

UNC is in the Final Four again this year.  That's good news.  The Heels should be in the Final Four every year, pretty much.  But this is where this team really should be.  Hansbrough and company have worked hard and have kicked the shit out of a lot of really good teams to get where they are.  If they play well and play hard and play smart, then they should bring home the trophy.  My thoughts on basketball.

Its only going to get in the low 50's today.  That's cold.  That's completely unacceptable.  Its spring, for Christ's sake.  It was 80 degrees two days ago.  This cold weather has no place around here anymore.  My thoughts on the weather.

Met Peryn's new man last night.  I didn't actually meet him, as he and I went to boarding school together.  But I hadn't seen him in probably 15 years.  So we went out to dinner and had a nice time.  It is pretty obvious that he (Adair) and Peryn will be married, etc.  And this is a good thing because he comes from a good southern family that will get along very well with ours.  Unlike spouses in the past of both mine and my sister's, Adair's family is just like ours, except that they are much more wealthy.  But they're wealthy in the good old southern way, meaning they don't flaunt it or pride themselves in it, they just have it.  And the other good news is that Adair has children- two little boys- so my parents will now finally have grandchildren.  And I'm sure that Peryn and Adair will be very quick to have one or two of their own.  So my parents will finally have their beloved grandchildren.  That's the one thing that's been missing in these last 10 years or so.  And I sure as hell will not ever be giving them any grandkids.  But now everyone is happy.

So that's that......... 

Tarheels kicking some NCAA butt

It never fails.  Each and every year its the same damn story. Every sports reporter outside the Triangle dumps on UNC and thinks that every single opponent the Heels face is going to destroy them.  They all act like UNC is so incredibly over-rated and that their opponent is the real deal.

Washington State was going to topple the mighty Heels with their suffocating defense.  Wait, the Heels beat them 68-47. Held WSU to the lowest point total of an opponent all year.  It was the fewest points allowed by a UNC team in the tourney since 1946.

Who's up next.  Well, if you listen to the assholes writing the stories, its the best team to ever walk onto the hardwood: Louisville.  A team that captured headlines all throughout the season (sike) and sat atop the polls for most of the season (again, sike).  Yes, if you get to the elite eight, you're a good, deserving team.  But, come on.  I don't think the Heels are going to lie down and cry.

This year's team has now set a new single-season win record with 35, and they're still counting. This is also the first tournament that the Heels have won their first 3 games by at least 20 points.  They're looking strong!

But don't listen to the sports writers!  They'll have you thinking that UNC is lucky to have gotten this far.  Especially those assholes at CBS Sportline, namely Gary Parrish (dumb f*#ker) and Dennis Dodd.  These stupid f--ks consistently miss the call on what they write, going with conventional and play-out wisdom to come up with completely unoriginal articles and "insights."  And these jokers get paid for the crap they write.  And I shouldn't let it bother me, because they are always wrong and, if you really look at it, they're just laughing stocks in the college ball world.  In fact, as I write, my opinion is shifting from one of anger to one of humor.  

Let the CBS Sportlins Idiots write what they like.  Do your best boys!  You are and will always be a pathetic bunch of followers.  And your opinions make you more laughable than dangerous.  So by all means, pucker up on Pitino's butt... and we'll talk on Sunday morning...

We delivered the bomb...

CLOSE ON QUINT

QUINT
Yeah. The U.S.S. Indianapolis.  June 29th, 1945, three and a half minutes past midnight, two torpedoes from a Japanese submarine slammed into our side. Two or three. We was still under sealed orders after deliverin' the bomb...the Hiroshima bomb...we was goin' back across the Pacific from Tinian to Leyte. Damn near eleven hundred men went over the side. The life boats was lashed down so tight to make the bomb run we couldn't cut a single one adrift. Not one. And there was no rafts. None. That vessel sank in twelve minutes. Yes, that's all she took. We didn't see the first shark till we'd been in the water about an hour. A thirteen-footer near enough. A blue. You measure that by judgin' the dorsal to the tail. What we didn't know... of course the Captain knew...I guess some officers knew... was the bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signals was sent. What the men didn't know was that they wouldn't even list us as overdue for a week. Well, I didn't know that -- I wasn't an officer -- just as well perhaps. So some of us were dead already -- in the water -- just hangin' limp in our lifejackets. And several already bleedin'. And the three hundred or so laying on the bottom of the ocean. As the light went, the sharks came crusin'. We formed tight groups -- somewhat like squares in an old battle -- You know what I mean -- so that when one come close, the man nearest would yell and shout and pound the water and sometimes it worked and the fish turned away, but other times that shark would seem to look right at a man -- right into his eyes -- and in spite of all shoutin' and poundin' you'd hear that terrible high screamin' and the ocean would go red, then churn up as they ripped him. Then we'd reform our little squares. By the first dawn the sharks had taken more than a hundred. Hard for me to count but more than a hundred. I don't know how many sharks. Maybe a thousand. I do know they averaged six men an hour. All kinds -- blues, makos, tigers. All kinds.
(Pause)
In the middle of the second day, some of us started to go crazy from the thirst. One fella cried out he saw a river, another claimed he saw a waterfall, some started to drink the ocean and choked on it, and some left our little groups -- our little squares -- and swam off alone lookin' for islands and the sharks always took them right away. It was mainly the young fellas that did that -- the older ones stayed where they was. That second day -- my life jacket rubbed me raw and that was more blood in the water. Oh my. On Thursday morning I bumped up against a friend of mine -- Herbie Robinson from Cleveland -- a bosun's mate -- it seemed he was asleep but when I reached over to waken him, he bobbed in the water and I saw his body upend because he'd been bitten in half beneath the waist. Well Chief, so it went on -- bombers high overhead but nobody noticin' us. Yes -- suicides, sharks, and all this goin' crazy and dyin' of thirst. Noon the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura swung around and came in low. Yes. He did that. Yes, that pilot saw us. And early evenin', a big fat PBY come down out of the sky and began the pickup. That was when I was most frightened of all -- while I was waitin' for my turn. Just two and a half hours short of five days and five nights when they got to me and took me up. Eleven hundred of us went into that ocean -- three hundred and sixteen got out. Yeah. Nineteen hundred and forty five. June the 29th.
(pause)
Anyway, we delivered the bomb.

What's Your Point, Walter?

WALTER
This was a valued rug.

He elaborately clears his throat.

WALTER
This was, uh--

DUDE
Yeah man, it really tied the room
together--

WALTER
This was a valued, uh.

Donny, the strike-scoring bowler, enters and sits next Walter.

DONNY
What tied the room together, Dude?

WALTER
Were you listening to the story,
Donny?

DONNY
What--

WALTER
Were you listening to the Dude's
story?

DONNY
I was bowling--

WALTER
So you have no frame of reference,
Donny. You're like a child who
wanders in in the middle of a movie
and wants to know--

DUDE
What's your point, Walter?

WALTER
There's no fucking reason--here's my
point, Dude--there's no fucking reason--

DONNY
Yeah Walter, what's your point?

WALTER
Huh?

DUDE
What's the point of--we all know who
was at fault, so what the fuck are
you talking about?

WALTER
Huh? No! What the fuck are you
talking--I'm not--we're talking about
unchecked aggression here--

DONNY
What the fuck is he talking about?

DUDE
My rug.

WALTER
Forget it, Donny. You're out of
your element.

DUDE
This Chinaman who peed on my rug, I
can't go give him a bill so what the
fuck are you talking about?

WALTER
What the fuck are you talking about?!
This Chinaman is not the issue! I'm
talking about drawing a line in the
sand, Dude. Across this line you do
not, uh--and also, Dude, Chinaman is
not the preferred, uh. . . Asian-
American. Please.

DUDE
Walter, this is not a guy who built
the rail- roads, here, this is a guy
who peed on my--

WALTER
What the fuck are you--

DUDE
Walter, he peed on my rug--

DONNY
He peed on the Dude's rug--

WALTER
YOU'RE OUT OF YOUR ELEMENT! This
Chinaman is not the issue, Dude.

DUDE
So who--

WALTER
Jeff Lebowski. Come on. This other
Jeffrey Lebowski. The millionaire.
He's gonna be easier to find anyway
than these two, uh. these two . . .
And he has the wealth, uh, the
resources obviously, and there is no
reason, no FUCKING reason, why his
wife should go out and owe money and
they pee on your rug. Am I wrong?

DUDE
No, but--

WALTER
Am I wrong!

DUDE
Yeah, but--

WALTER
Okay. That, uh.

He elaborately clears his throat.

That rap really tied the room together, did it not?

DUDE
Fuckin' A.

DONNY
And this guy peed on it.

WALTER
Donny! Please!

DUDE
Yeah, I could find this Lebowski guy--

DONNY
His name is Lebowski? That's your
name, Dude!

DUDE
Yeah, this is the guy, this guy should
compensate me for the fucking rug.
I mean his wife goes out and owes
money and they pee on my rug.

WALTER
Thaaat's right Dude; they pee on
your fucking Rug.

I am That Stupid Also???

So we've had really nice weather the last few days and I've attempted to read outside of my nearest coffee shop.  Trouble is, the people who shared in my idea of getting outdoors are complete idiots and their mindless blathering clogs my ears and strangles my mind and makes it impossible to concentrate on what I'm reading.

Today's morons were these two college aged girls.  Now right off the bat, I new they'd be idiots because they were young girls.  And we all know that 98% of young girls have absolutely nothing worth a damn EVER run through their minds.  These creatures are the closest things to worthless that we should ever come near.

Well these two brain surgeons were true to form.  I read the same paragraph about 20 times and finally gave up.  I sat quietly, trying my hardest not to hear their conversation.  But unlike the two older ladies who were quietly talking to each other, these two stupid girls were all but screaming.  I could only shake my head in complete disgust as I choked down my latte.

Youth is wasted on the young.  I now know that I pretty damn stupid when I was younger.  Of course, times were different back then.  Each year gets faster and less private.  Cell phones bring everyone assholes conversation into the public domain.  Its impossible to go through your day quietly and discreetly.  And believe me, I try like hell to do it each and every day.

'Bout the only thing I can do these days is shake my head and laugh at the idiots that bombard my daily life.  I can't avoid them.  They drive beside me.  They shop at the same grocery store.  I work with them.  And I have to hold my tongue, lest I tell them what I really think of them and their opinions.  Of course, I'm confident that my opinion is of no concern to them.  

I'll just have to go through the days, loathing them.  I'll have to quietly hold the knowledge that most of the people that I encounter are so far beneath me that I shouldn't even let their pathetic lives disturb me.  Of course, that's easier said than done.  If they'd just let me read and drink my coffee in peace and quiet, then I wouldn't have to write these scathing entries.  Then again, I am improving my typing speed.  Hah!!!!!!!!!!!!

California Wine

I have been collecting, or I should say saving the wine bottles that I have had the pleasure of drinking over the years.  I've dropped a pretty penny on some of these bottles, so I figured that having them on display would at least help their memory live longer.  And I essentially dropped all that money on an empty bottle, since the wine was quickly gone, but the bottle remains.

Anywho, I was looking over them last night, and I wrote down some of the bigger ones that I've had over the years.  The following list is just from California.  My French list will be coming in the not-too-distant future.  

And yes, you should be very jealous.  And yes, these were some of the most amazing bottles of wine anyone could ever hope to drink.  Again, be jealous...

1974   Heitz Martha's Vineyard

1997   Maya

1997   Joseph Phelps Insignia

1997   Clark Claudon

1997   Caymus Special Selection

1997   Arajou Eisele Vineyards

1997   Dalla Valle

1991   Caymus Special Selection

1996   Harlan Estates

1996   Sean Thackery Orion

1995   Quintessa

1992   Opus One

1996   Opus One

1995   Caymus Special Selection

1994   Arajou Eisele Vineyards

1996   Arajou Eisele Vineyards

1996   Dalla Valle

1994   Cain Five

All those big boys were cabs, except the Orion, which was a big ole Syrah, and the Cain Five, which was a blend........

Macbeth

She should have died hereafter:

There would have been a time for such a word.

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day

To the last syllable of recorded time,

And all of our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death.  Out, out brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage

And then is heard no more.  It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

Signifying nothing.

Noah Must've Needed a Big Damn Boat!

So I've got a kid on my staff that believes in a literal interpretation in the bible.  And oh all the things that I've heard lately that have completely assaulted my intelligence (and it's an election year, so there have been plenty of things), this is about the most outrageous.

Question: If evolution is a myth, then every animal on the planet at the present time would have had to have been on the planet way back when.  So, how in the holy hell did Noah get all those animals on a boat?  I mean, come on!  That would have to be one hell of a big boat.  And where'd he keep all the food?  And how come the animals didn't eat each other or Noah, for that matter? 

I'm sorry, but you have to be some kind of serious dimwit to believe the bible literally happened.  It boggles my mind that people like this really walk among us.  It scares me that people like this actually walk among us.  These are some pretty STUPID people!

That's why I put a picture of the raptors in this entry.  Obviously, Noah was smart enough to leave the raptors and the T-Rex's and the rest of the really big dinosaurs off the ark.  I'm sure that the raptors would have caused a few problems on the boat.

And another thing, are we assume that we keep our present consciousness when we die?  If not, then how in the hell do we know that we've made it to heaven.  If we can't keep our feeble minds the way they are right now, then I'm sure that whatever form we're in will not be able to comprehend where we are.  And who'd to assume that we even occupy another form in the first place?

The whole damn scam just seems rather flimsy.  But idiots like the kid I work with just eat it up with spoons and then ask for more.  Its no wonder so many people are dumbfounded at the number of fundamentalists these days.  We were supposed to be outgrowing such fairy tales.  We were supposed to be progressing.  And yet morons are still grasping to these tales.  And worse than that, they're still wanting to kill everyone who doesn't believe what they believe.  Talk about insecurity!  They're going to destroy this whole planet in the name of a fairy tale.

Well damn....

Hillary F-in' Clinton

For the second day in a row, these god damn Hillary volunteers have taken up residence at my go-to coffee shop.  The bitch is campaigning here in NC tomorrow, so these fucking idiot children are all excited about the prospect of seeing their savior walk on water.

And these god damn children are barely old enough to vote.  They still have their little heads in the clouds, thinking that Clinton gives a single damn about any of them.  This is the exact class of morons that can single-handedly ruin this country.  Them and the latinos, who probably won't be voting legally anyway.  But these kids haven't been out in the real world.  They haven't worked, sweated and then had asshole liberals tax them like crazy.  They'll see.  When their savior turns around and burns every one of them, they'll know they were stupid little fuckers all along.

I'm really just pissed because I'd like to go to my coffee shop in peace and read my book without hearing these stupid fucking kids all excited about Hillary Fucking Clinton.  Friday she'll be gone to her next con-job location, so maybe I'll have my hangout back.

God damn stupid liberal fucking kids...

Super Models

I try each day to keep from adding a picture of either Bar or Marissa.  This blog is becoming more about them than it is about any thoughts or opinions I have on various issues.

Then again, I think these pictures say a whole lot more than I ever could...

I wonder what these girls are like in real life? What would they be doing on a lazy Sunday afternoon?  What are they reading right now?

I know that it is superficial to focus so much on the exterior.  Beauty is after all only skin deep.  Blah, blah, blah.  

I read books like its going out of style.  And not every book makes me ponder the deeper issues of human existence.  Some books are about as skin deep as you can get.  Doesn't mean that I throw them away because they aren't causing my brain to fire up a storm.  No, I enjoy them for other reasons.  Some because of the way they are written.  Some because they simply make me laugh.  Some because they make me forget that I'm trudging through a shit job, or a shit month, etc.

These stunning beauties are much like that.  They take me to another place.  Not a place where I'm wrestling with the timeless questions of man's fate.  No, just a place where my breath catches in my chest at the thought that there are creatures out there that are this beautiful.  And that beauty is really something magical.  Not their specific beauty.  But beauty in general.  That there is beauty out there this complete and that it manifests itself in these women.

I still love the line from beautiful girls.  I'm going to end this entry with that line, because as cheese-ball as it is, I can't help thinking about it when I gaze at Bar and Marissa...

"Look. The supermodel's a beautiful girl, Will. She can make you dizzy, like you've been drinking Jack all morning. She can make you feel high for the greatest commodity known to man: promise, the promise of a better day, the promise of a greater hope, the promise of a new tomorrow. This particular ore can be found in the gait of a beautiful girl- in her smile, in her soul, in the way she makes every rotten thing about life seem OK. The supermodels, Willie? That's all they are - bottled promise. Scenes from a new day, hope in stiletto heels..."

Easter Thoughts...

As I sit hear sipping my morning coffee on Easter Sunday, I felt it necessary to type some thoughts.

When I was a child, Easter meant an Easter basket.  And it meant a trip to the church.  Of course, back then, we went to church every Sunday.  But this particular Sunday was important because we wore new clothes.  Mom and Peryn would wear their new dresses (I take it the had white in them... I can't remember though).  And I would have a new tie with pastel colors.

As I got older I became like so many who would essentially only go to church on Easter Sunday.  Like students who only attend class for the tests, I would pack into an otherwise empty church to here about Christ rising from the dead.

But nowadays I don't buy it.  Nowadays I'm pretty much a complete atheist.  I lean between atheism and agnosticism.  I mean, I dig on the buddha and really like his teachings.  And as I get older and more spiritual, I will definitely devote my attention to buddhism.

Christianity never materialized to be anything other than a big shake down.  I'm sure that in sermons around the country (and especially in the south) that the preachers are scaring the congregations about Muslims and Jews and all the others.  They're telling them about the evil sinners- the gays, the liberals, and all the non-believers.  And how Christ died for our sins and then rose from the dead.  Yada Yada Yada.

Like many atheists, I'd just like for everyone to shut the hell up and leave me and everyone else alone.  We don't believe, so don't try to convert us.  We don't believe, so don't try to kill us.  The Muslims, Jews and Christians- the big three- are going to wipe us all off the planet.  And all in the name of made-up stories.  Sad, my friends, so, so sad.

I myself don't recognize this holiday so I don't think we should be closed.  But so many people last night thought it was terrible that we were open on Easter.  That says it all.  Imposing their damn religion on me, like they need to say how sad it is that I might be working on Easter.  Leave me alone with your fucking religion folks.  Thanks!

Some thoughts on Easter.  At least I get a basket of chocolate every year! 

Duke and UNC... A Tale of Two Programs

So the 2008 NCAA Tourney is underway.  The Heels absolutely dominated in their first game last night.  I think its was the largest point margin in the first round of the tourney by any team.  And of course, Duke almost lost in the their first game.  The beat Belmont by one point.  That's right sports fans, Duke almost lost in the first round... a one point victory.

Now, I said when Roy Williams came back to coach the Tarheels that Duke University would continually get worse and worse with each passing year.  I made the prediction that they would never win another national title under Coach K.  That they would look back at the fall of the great "Duke Empire" and realize that Roy Williams came, saw and conquered.

The media and Duke fans alike have had a love-affair with the Duke program that has been based on unrealistic predictions and flat-out lies.  Yes, they have been one of the all-time great programs.  But come on, they are not that good.  They had a nice run of recruits and domination from mid-90's to say, early 2000's.  And how many championships do they have from those times?  None!  Zero!  Zilch!  How many final fours lately for the great and powerful K?  None!  Zero!  Zilch!  How many embarrassing defeats in the NCAA tournament recently?  EVERY YEAR!

And here it is folks.  The truth that I see written plainly on the wall:

Duke will never win another championship while Coach K is the basketball coach. Duke Basketball will continue to slip year after year, falling from grace with each defeat.

Teams around the country don't fear the big, bad Blue Devils like they used to.  Refs don't fear Coach K and his vulgarities like they used.  K and his teams have to play real basketball these days, now that they Blue Devil Myth has been destroyed.  They get called for the fouls that they are notorious for.  They get beaten by run-of-the-mill "shoot 1000 3's" kind-of teams.  These same average teams match-up perfectly with the Blue Devils.

Duke isn't getting the crazy recruiting classes like they used to.  They're getting the typical whining, ball-hog, 3-point crazy guards that no other program wants, but that's it.  No big men.  No swing men.  No hot-shot recruits.  Just the typical, loathsome guards that Coach K loves.  The kind of player that fits into Coach K's one-dimensional, 3-point crazy offense.

Man, that's a tired routine.  Duke is a tired routine!  Their days are over.  They won't flee in the night.  They'll linger around.  They'll have their typical good seasons.  They'll get their typical recruits.  DICK Vitale will continue to profess that they are the best program to ever have been.  But we'll all just yawn as we watch the has-beens do their tired routines...

The Duke Myth is dead.  They will continue to fade.  They will continue to lose early.  They will never again win a national championship under Coach K.  

That's it, friends.  The tired program known as Duke Basketball reached it's peak and now we are all witnessing the slow and laughable death.

Ain't it great?!  Wait... Coach K?  Who?

 

Marilyn Monroe

I thought that I'd be remiss if I didn't create an appropriate tribute to the #1 beauty of all time: MARILYN MONROE.

Its all well and good to have a blog filled with stunning pictures of super models.  But let's not forget who started it all.  The importance of Marilyn cannot be emphasized enough.  She is one of the most important cultural icons of all time.  Yes, the other women in this blog are stunning, but they can't hold a candle to the overall magnitude of Marilyn.

I first became enraptured with Marilyn in my mid-teens, and I haven't looked back.  I must confess that I don't know as much about her as I'd like to.  I do have several books about her, and they are definitely on the reading list.  The problem is that the damn reading list keeps getting longer, and I can only read so fast!

Anywho, I just thought I needed to post some thoughts on my all-time favorite...

One last thing, too.  The first 3 shots are my favorites.  I do like the ones where Marilyn is all dolled up.  Who wouldn't?  But I much prefer the ones where we see her in her "private" moments.  Like looking out a window, or reading a book in her robe, or looking down on NYC from an open window.

Its these moments that really grab at my heart.  In these shots she seems to me to be hurting.  You can almost see it in her eyes.  Like we are just able to glimpse the true Marilyn Monroe.  An abused, misunderstood icon.  A woman who is unable to find her own voice because everyone only sees her the way they want to.

But in these quiet, simple shots, she seems to really shine through.  A delicate beauty.  A troubles beauty.  Heartbroken.

Maybe I'm way off.  Maybe I too am projecting what I think she's all about.  But regardless, I like the simple, personal shots of this incredible woman much more than the high glamour shots.

That's it............

Heather Mills is a Lying Bi#ch!

I love it that the judge in the Mills/McCartney case basically laughed in that horrible woman's face.  What a terrible person.  I'm sure she married the man for his money and then tried to steal it all through the divorce.  But now we all see that she's just a greedy bitch.  And she's not going to get the huge chunk of change she wanted.

Karma is a bitch.  I hope karma hits that worthless woman so hard that she becomes a complete wash-up, with no friends and no money.  The best would see her living in low income housing and taking orders at a fast food restaurant.

There are consequences to our actions people!  You can't live your life as a terrible person and not get burned..........

From Rand's "Atlas Shrugged"

"It is not advisable to venture unsolicited opinions.  You should spare yourself the embarrassing discovery of their exact value to your listener."

The Downfalls of Instant Gratification...

Some thoughts on these opportunistic whore names Ashley Alexandra Dupre:

I'm laughing my ass off that every day we learn some other embarrassing thing this stupid girl got herself caught up in.  Screwing governors and movie stars for money.  Making some of the worst music imaginable.  And screwing on camera for Girls Gone Wild.  This girl is a model human being.  Real salt of the earth kind of person!

But its proof positive that people are out for immediate gratification with absolutely no thought as to the consequences of their actions.  Who cares what may happen!!!  I want to do this something right now!!!

I'm sure this rocket scientist, shall we call Dr. Dupre, is in fact quite intelligent, has impeccable morals, and is an overall wonderful person.  She's just getting a bad wrap.  She was forced into having sex on the Girls Gone Wild videos.  She had no other option but to charge 1000's of dollars for sexual favors.  She was framed, damn it!!!

Yeah right!  The stupid whore is a perfect example of how this society is on the brink of complete collapse.  Big jump, huh?  From whore to societal collapse.  It would be a big jump if this slut Dupre was an isolated example.  But she's a dime a dozen.  Hell, she's not even shocking.  She's simply pathetic and laughable.

But that she's so damn common is the scary part.  That she screwed a very powerful politician who doesn't have a shred of decency is not in the least bit shocking.  That she appeared in gratuitous sex videos is oh so common.  That this news is run-of-the-mill is the terrifying part.  Leave out the names of this story and it could be about just about anyone in the public eye at even given time over the past ten years.

We're falling apart people.  This country is on the verge of complete collapse.  The complete lack of thought while we demand our immediate gratification will be the ruin of us all.  You'll see........................

No More Pills!

Its been nearly FOUR months since I decided to ween off my anti-depressants.  Is it just me or does that seem like a VERY long time?  I have never been all that crazy about the idea of being dependent on pills.  Now I have abused my share of prescription drugs over the years.  But that was always for immediate gratification.  The thought of it taking a 1/3 of a year to get over medication is down right obnoxious.

So you can bet your ass I'm not going to jump at the chance to get back on any kind of meds.  And truth be told, I'm a lot happier without them.  Now granted, the edges can sometimes be a tad more jagged, but hey, that's being alive!  Life isn't supposed to be an easy ride.  Its bumpy.  Its up and down.  You're supposed to get pissed off.  You're supposed to get fucking mad.  And you're supposed to get sad.  That's life baby!  And the thought of taking some little "happy pill" to white wash the whole experience is bogus.

And these cats that go all crazy when they go off their meds... well, no shit captain.  If they feel half as bad as I've felt the last four months, then...

And of course, you can't just take a pill and make everything better, boys and girls.  You've also got to work on the trouble.  You've got to try to get better, so that the medication isn't shouldering the burden.  Because the band aid will wear out.  It will start to tear, and then what professor?  More meds?  Fuck that!

I'm thinking that I've got a couple of days left before I can completely kiss the pills goodbye.  I haven't taken one since Saturday.  I'm dizzy as shit right now, but I'm hoping that my brain will feel better tomorrow morning.  If not, then I'll take one.  One every two day has taken me four months!  As I so eloquently said... fuck that! 

Spring in the air...

And with spring in the air, thoughts and memories begin to thaw in my mind...

I've got REM's "Harborcoat" on right now.  They have always been a spring and summer band.  Life's Rich Pageant will always remind me of my trip to Bill McKinnon's home after my first year at EHS.  

And then there's WSP.  While I don't dig much on the Panic these days, man did they ever take up a good portion of the hot summer months.  And the Dead and Phish.  Ah, my hippie years!  My lost hippie years!

One can't forget Jimmy Buffett either.  He reminds me a lot of Marcia.  Sadly, Angie also steals some memories.  But we try to cut her out of as much as possible.  And of course, there's the Christmas days when I'd hang out with him at Toppers.

But more than any one thing, spring is happy.  Spring is youth.  Spring is "everything will somehow be ok."  Its "nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile."  I'm not a winter hater.  I actually like wearing coats, and darkness early in the evening, and dreary December days.  But there's something one-of-a-kind about spring days.

Colorado springs, though, can't hold a candle to the incredible southern springs.  We've got colors, and fragrances, and so many girls in tight clothes you just about lose your mind.  I'll give summers to the Colorado mountains, but NC is the unanimous spring winner.

Its funny that I'm writing about spring.  Its chilly today and I've got the heat on.  We've only had a few days lately that have cracked the 70's.  But for some reason, that's what my mind had in mind.  So.........

My Favorite Scene for the movie "Beautiful Girls"

This is a scene from the movie "Beautiful Girls."
It pretty much sums up why I've got all these super model pics on my blog.
Check out the movie if you haven't seen it yet. It's incredible........

"You got to take this shit down."

"Why?"

"You're like a serial killer."

"Don't cap on my supermodels. Leave it alone."

"It's creepy."

"Look who's talking, Mr Jerry Lee Lewis."

"Oh, fucking Mo!"

"I don't judge. If she can cut her own food, she's fair game."

"OK. All I'm saying is you got to take all this down because it's creepy..."

"Look. The supermodel's a beautiful girl, Will. She can make you dizzy, like you've been drinking Jack all morning. She can make you feel high for the greatest commodity known to man: promise, the promise of a better day, the promise of a greater hope, the promise of a new tomorrow. This particular ore can be found in the gait of a beautiful girl- in her smile, in her soul, in the way she makes every rotten thing about life seem OK. The supermodels, Willie? That's all they are - bottled promise. Scenes from a new day, hope in stiletto heels..."

"I am now going to check your freezer for human heads."

"A beautiful girl's all-powerful and that is as good as love. That's as good as love."

Getting old...

Pops is turning 60 tomorrow.  Wow!  I don't see that so much as him getting old as ME getting old.  And when my little sis has a birthday, then my age takes yet another hit.

Age.  "You're only as old as you feel" and other stupid things people say about age!  If that were true then I would be in my mid-70s.  I usually feel quite old and quite tired.  Aching knees, arthritis in my finger joints most days.  Blah, blah, blah.

And age is always contrasted to... others, I guess.  Duh.  For instance, I will say things around my staff that they say dates me quite well.  References to say... well, for instance Madonna being inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.  I remember life before Madonna.  I remember watching just about every single one of her videos when they were World Premiere Videos... back when that station used to play videos.  I'm hesitant to call it MTV for fear of dating myself!  Hah!

But the old man turning 60.  We used to play tennis together.  Now neither one of us could run a baseline!  We can still get out and swing a gold club once in awhile.  But his birthday just shows me that yet another year has flown by...

And this is starting to creep towards the depressing.  So I will nip it in the bud.  I must go and prepare for my day.  Gonna go by 15 or 20 more books for the collection.  Drink a lot of coffee.  Read.  Do some laundry.  Get the cats some food.  Hell, get me some food.  

Man, my days off really are packed with fun and exciting adventures.  Getting old, baby!  Getting old.......................

Completely Mindless Ramblings...

So I don't have a TV.  That's important to know from the get-go.  I don't want a TV and have really enjoyed not having one around the house.  It forces you to pass time in more creative ways.  I read basically whenever I am home and awake.  And I listen to a lot of music.  The trouble, though, is when I'm too tired to read and its too early to go to bed.  Its a time of limbo where I have to occupy myself as best I can.  Now is one of those times.

So what do I do?  Crank 80's music, of course!  Duh!  Right now I've got Simple Minds "Alive and Kicking."  Why 80's, you might wonder?  Well, I am a child of the 80's.  I was around to see the very first days of MTV.  Believe it or not, they used to play videos on that station.

Now I've got Lionel Ritchie's "All Night Long."  My good friend Antonio loves this song.  He and I cooked together at Toppers in Aspen.  We would play 80's music on Thursday nights when Topper was off.  Without question, we'd be busy as all hell, but we'd still have time to have a laugh of two at the great music.  So naturally whenever I hear this song I think of him.

Not much of a ramble.  I'll admit that.  But to be honest, I can't concentrate on the tunes AND type at the same time.  And rather than come across as a semi-literate moron, I'm just gonna fade to black..................................................

Thursday February 24th, 1994 @5PM

That's right, 2/24/94...

I've been keeping a journal off and on since (ironically enough) 4/19 or 4/20 1992.  Its a hoot to read back over what I was thinking and feeling thru the years.  And I just came across this one from a little over 14 years ago.  My god the time flies!!!

2/24/94

I'm just sitting here copying Dave bootlegs for Peryn, so I thought I'd write in the ole journal.

I saw Dave and Widespread last night [in Raleigh and Mickey was still standing (I think)].  It was a good show.  They both jammed out pretty hard,.

I think I'll smoke a cigarette and then delve into a topic...

As if I haven't spent years on this topic: Alice Burruss.  Well, here we go again!  Alice came back to State this semester.  She's in one of my classes, so we've been seeing a lot of each other.  Recently we've been talking more from the heart and its gotten us closer.  Well, guess what?  I can't stop thinking about her.

You know they say that the first love is usually the building stone needed to find the special person you'll spend your life with.  Alice and I are a special situation.  We were each other's first love and since then we've been involved with other people.  Yet after four years we're talking again and getting closer.  I've experienced enough in that time to know that I've never felt the feelings I have for Alice with anyone else.  She is truly the most special person I've ever met.  To this day I love her as much as I did when we were dating.  I would honestly ask her to marry me if we were older and in the situation where she'd say yes.

But regardless of all of that, I'm so happy that we are getting close again.  I'd give the world to get back together with her, but I'll keep that on the back burner and just enjoy our friendship...

So yeah... that's a long time ago.  I have since been through TWO wives.  And a few girlfriends.  To be honest though, from the time that was written, there really haven't been that many girls.  I think I really do have some commitment issues.  Hah!!!!

I do still hold Alice in a very special place.  She was the first.  Number one.  And I look back at that year together as the best I've ever had with a girl.

I don't really analyze feelings and tend to change the subject if it ever comes up.  That being said, I'm sure at some point in time I have been as crazy in love as I was with Alice.  But that's just a guess.  An educated one, because I've got two ex-wives, and you'd like to think I was at least somewhat in love with them.  But to be honest, aside from Micki Beach and Marcia, I don't think I've had that crazy in love feeling like I did for Alice.

Anywho... I thought that was pretty funny digging up a 14 year old journal entry!  

Back to the Valley?

It dawned on me last night that I may want to move back to the Aspen valley.  This thought comes as a large shocker, because I swore that I'd never step foot there ever again.  But the reasons for that declaration was largely due to the fact that I was a drunk and a junky during my last stay there.  I hated myself during those years and I would have in turn hated anywhere I was living.  So in all fairness, the valley was an innocent victim.

What I am really looking for these days is a quiet place to live where people will leave me the hell alone.  I really want to quietly be a nobody and go thru my days with little disturbance.  I thought that I could achieve this goal at the beach somewhere.  Like, say, when I win HGTV's "Dream Home Giveaway" and I move down to the Keys.  Or, I could move to a mountain town and get the same effect.

The thing I always liked about the valley was that just about everyone who lived there was there because they WANTED to be there.  They had all made the conscious decision to move there because they wanted to ski or fish or hike or whatever.  But they want to be there.  Unlike many, many places around here (NC) where people live where they grew up, or where work mover them...

Being around people who are excited and happy to live where they do is pretty special.  You see it in the way they take care of their town and they way they run their town.  The valley was like that.  People really dug living there.  And they'd travel from all around the world just to live there.  And they were stoked.  Really, really stoked.

And people in the valley all seemed to look at work as what you had to do to afford to live where you loved.  Meaning there wasn't a stigma on any occupation because you were living in the valley.  So what if you worked at a liquor store or the post office or a restaurant or anywhere.  You still got to ski over 100 days a year, or fish the world's best trout rivers or look at the Bells every single day.  The playing field seemed to be much more level.  And that's good for someone who really doesn't want to do much more than just get by...

And then there's the whole quiet, lack of people thing.  The valley really isn't that populated.  You really can go just about anywhere and not be in a very big crowd.  And you don't hear these ghetto wanna-be MF's who blare their damn car stereos, hoping that maybe we're impressed that they listen to gangsta rap.  

And now that I've gotten away from TV (it's almost one year since I owned a TV), I really don't have the fanatical sports desires that I used to.  I have no desire to go to UNC games.  I really don't need to watch any sports.  I read about the big game the next day.  The Super Bowl articles were just fine, and I got thru them in less than five minutes, instead of 5 hours!  The articles on UNC beating Duke this past weekend were concise enough that I got what I needed.

So I really don't have any reason to be living here in NC.  Granted my parents and my sister live in this fair state.  But the family has been in close proximity since the beginning.  I don't think that my breaking away for a bit will change things much.  Especially since the clan still goes skiing once or twice a season.  And since I listen to WCPE online, I really don't have one single reason to call NC home any longer than I have to...

So, sounds like I need to pack the bags for those ole Colorado mountains....

The Ancient Art of Letter Writing...

Long ago- before the age of email and internet and blogs- there was an art form known as letter writing.  It was an amazing thing, friends and neighbors.  A person would put thoughts to paper.  Emotions would spill onto pages like so much ink.  And penmanship (you might have to actually go look that word up) was sexy.  And these thoughts that were written down were then enclosed in an envelope and sent to lands far away.  The trip would take days.  Sometimes even weeks.  The whole process taking between 7 to 14 days from letter written to response received.  And the joy, the sheer joy of holding a letter from a loved one in your hand.  The feeling of the paper in your hands.  The act of reading the words, the meanings.  And perchance a seductive scent left on the pages to stir the emotions.  What sweet rapture.

I went to a boarding school from 1989 to 1992.  During these three years I wrote to all my friends back home.  And during these three years I was quite popular, so I received a number of letters in return.  The first love of my life was during this time.  As was my second and third.  Several girlfriends are represented during this time.  And powerful friendships.  

I have kept each and every one of these letters.  I am lucky.  I have an amazingly clear resource from this time in my life- almost 20 years ago.  I can read letters my grandmother sent me, before she got alzheimer's.  I can read her thoughts when she was still able to construct them.  Not  long after this she began to lose her mind.

I bring this up because I just went through the box and divided them into their own piles.  I am going to put them all in notebooks or some type of scrapbook form so that they will remain safe.  I never thought about it at the time, but they have become some of dearest possessions.  

Most of these people are lost to me now.  Time has passed.  I have lost track.  I have lost touch.  There was a time when this bothered me.  A time when I was desperate to get back to those days.  Now I look back with a warm heart and a smile.  They are days that have made me who I am.  And they are easier, happier days.  Days when life was more simple.  More carefree.  And though I cannot go back to those days, I have these letters.  Ink on paper that tells stories a days gone by.

Luxuries like letter writing are dead.  I haven't received nor have I written a letter in more years than I can count.  Greeting cards are almost dead as well.  And emails fall so desperately short of the mark.  So I have my letters.  Thank goodness for that.....................

I'm not blind...

I just looked over my blog and noticed the hypocrisy of writing about celibacy and then having all these pictures of hot women running down the right side...

So I mentioned that our brains have certain programs hardwired into them.  Try as we might, we cannot completely delete the need for sex.  It is part of human survival.  It must happen.

Try as I might to go through my days quietly and peacefully, I am constantly drawn to the beauty of women.  I can't help it.  I have eyes.  They see things.  They notice things that my brain finds pleasing.  And women are one of them...

I am past the need to pursue any desires that my eyes might create (see the next blog).  But try as I may, my eyes are still going to be drawn to things of beauty.  But now they are just lumped in the same category as soothing music.  Beautiful women and jazz both make me very happy.  But I am not running out to join a jazz band.  And I'm not running out to "bag a babe," as it were.

I'm just letting my senses do their job.  Not creating any undo tension...

Celibacy...

Celibacy: 1) The state of being unmarried, esp. one under a vow not to marry; 2) Complete sexual abstinence.

Those two definitions pretty much sum me up.  And I rather like both of them.  But I'm going to concentrate on the second definition right now.  The first definition is pretty much synonymous with happy and enlightened.  

The need for sex is pretty much hard-wired into our brains.  Guess is has something to do with keeping the species going.  I can't very much do anything about the programs that are hard-wired into my brain.  Try as I may to delete them, they are here to stay.  So what I CAN do is just not use them.  Put them in a folder and file them deep down.

And that's what I've done.  And I haven't missed a beat.  Of course, its been quite awhile, so the "pains" of celibacy are behind me.  And happy about that I couldn't be.

Thoughts on these "pains:"  When someone has been in a relationship for some time and then finds themselves alone, the memory of sex lingers.  The mind and the body still has physical memory of what the act feels like, and tastes like, and smells like.  And both the mind and the body tend to miss these sensations, because, after all, they are quite nice.

But over time, the physical memory starts to fade.  And over more time, it disappears.  You can remember sex in your mind's eye, but the actual memory of what it feels like is gone.  It is in this new state of mind that one is able to live quite freely.  Young people go out, go on dates, pursue the opposite sex for the main reason of sex.  Why else would you endure so much crap if not for the hope, the chance, of sex?  I see it driving most of the behavior of the young these days.

But when that desire is gone, so too is the need to put up with the games, the confrontations, the overall crap that comes with dealing with the opposite sex.  If someone never wants to be married, never wants children, and pretty much never wants to have a relationship ever again, then that pretty much kills any need for sex.  And as it gets pushed further and further down the ladder of priorities, soon you find that you can't even remember what the big deal was anyways...

So, the more I think about the two definitions, the more I think that they both are just another way of creatively saying: To be enlightened, unfettered and all-in-all happy.... 

The Evil Woman known as Ms. Clinton...

So Obama won the Wisconsin primary yesterday.

(Oh, by the way, I am very much a conservative and wish they both would jump off bridges)

Anyway, the nation is forced to watch, read and listen to these two wretched politicians go back and forth at each other.  And I for one can't wait until 2009 when this whole damn election year will be over.

My only thoughts on the whole thing today is about have far we have gone (in a very, very bad way) to have a person like Hillary Clinton as a potential presidential candidate.  It shows that we are a very stupid and very desperate country.  It shows that the democratic party is borderline evil.  And it shows that we need to close the damn borders!  I mean, Hillary is huge with the Latino population.  They shouldn't even be here and now they're affecting our election. And what the hell does this population know about her anyway?  Do they actually think she gives a damn about them.

Yes, Hillary is the Latino population's candidate of choice.  And she's huge with the women voters...

And this country is doomed and is going straight to hell.  If she doesn't kill us, the fundamentalist morons certainly will... 

Old Journal Entry...

This one is dated January 19th, 2008: Saturday Night

There's just something inspiring about writing with a fountain pen.  It feels to me the way thoughts should be kept.

I haven't put thoughts to paper in while.  I have been flying on autopilot for the mot part.  Work, read, sleep.  But with this fountain pen as a means of inspiration, I should strike while the iron is hot, as it were.

I am no longer a smoker.  December 31st, 2007 was my last day of smoking.  It has not been difficult at all.  My mind was made up before hand and I didn't look back.

I have also quit drinking.  This has greatly helped my non-smoking.  It keeps me out of bars and away from other smokers.  And I figured that taking myself out of the element was the best way to be successful.

It has brought up questions as to whether I will drink again.  And the way I look at it is this: I am an alcoholic.  That much is sure.  I have been an alcoholic for a very long time.  But I now know that every alcoholic is different, because one's inability to control alcohol is a one-on-one thing.  So for me, its that I make poor decisions when I drink.  I drink way too much.  I spend way too much.  I am not in control when I drink.  I put myself in compromising situations when I drink.

But rather than do this whole AA "I've got a problem and I can't ever, ever drink" thing, I'm just going to not drink on a very personal, very private level.  If, though, I want at any time to have a beer, I can very well have one and know that I haven't thrown all this time of sobriety down the drain.  Its not like smoking.  That's an all or nothing situation.

Life in now [A...] free, thank goodness.  I have not seen her since sometime in October.  The few times she has tried to chat with me on the google chat thing, I have completely ignored her.

I now view her as the single biggest mistake of my entire life.  I can safely say that most of what I've done from the age of 18 to the present has to some degree been a bad idea.  I pretty much the living example of what happens when you constantly make bad decisions.  And my 30's have definitely been one long stretch of "kick me in the balls" bad situations.  I'm trying like hell to change that trend.  And with number one mistake [A...] very much safely behind me, maybe things will finally start turning towards the better.

I can very safely and confidently say that I never want to see or speak to her ever again.  And its not like I keep in contact with any of my other ex's.  Every other one of them I'm sure despises me (and I them) and wants to never speak to me again (and I them).  

And having moved back to NC and to such close proximity to [A...] has really helped in my throwing her completely away.  Before, when I was away, I couldn't see her even if I wanted to.  So I would seek her out whenever I could.  But now she is less than a 5 minute walk down the road.  I could call her or "pop in" anytime I want.  And having that luxury has helped me finally purge the last of that disease from my system.

Now the very thought of her repulses me.  I look at her as very much the direct cause of most of my woe.  Things would be better had I never met her.  There is not a single part of my being that was not ruined to some extent by that wretched person.

But, those days are behind me.  And like a long, depleting sickness that has finally left my body, I am starting to regain my strength.  I am moving forward.

The scars are still very much visible, and probably always will be.  Scars like my not wanting to have anything to do with relationships ever again.  But we can't change the past, can we?  We must accept what happened and move on.  We must take who we've become and learn to be as happy and productive as we can.

That's it for now...........  

College Shootings

I just read that the UNC Class President Eve Carson was shot to death (shot many times) this morning.  Yesterday a girl at Auburn was shot.  Then there's the Va Tech shootings.  Oh, and the NIU shootings.  What the hell???

This is way, way past alarming.  This is way, way past terrifying.  The question "what's going on here," is so void of magnitude as to be insulting.  I think it can easily be called an epidemic.  

I was listening to Pearl Jam's "Jeremy" two days ago and it struck me that when that song came out, the idea of a school shooting by a troubled student was still very much isolated and quite disturbing.  Now a days it is doubly disturbing, but because of its' frequency, not because of its uniqueness.  We're becoming so used to hearing that someone else was shot somewhere else by someone else with some kind of troubled past that the news doesn't even shock anymore.

This one is hitting really close to home.  No, scratch that.  This one is hitting home.  Something is very wrong.  Something is very, very wrong...

Pills or no pills?

Some of you probably know of the difficult and rather painful process of beginning a life with anti-depressants.  It takes quite awhile for your body to adjust to the pills and their effects.  But once you have adjusted, life can be quite fine.

I was on anti-depressants (this last time) for about 1.5 years.  I have been trying to ween myself off since December 2007.  Its been a LONG process.  Right now I'm on the lowest dosage every other day.  The day I'm on is pretty good.  Just mildly dizzy.  But the day I'm off is bad.  I'm super dizzy and sick feeling.

And that's part of the reason why I decided to quit taking them.  I hate to be tied to a drug that has such control on my physical well being.  I hate to think that missing one day will knock me off my feet.  And truth be told, I can function just fine without them.

But let me just say from first-hand experience, quitting your anti-depressants is one hell of a long, miserable process!

Out Stealing Horses

I'm reading Per Petterson's "Out Stealing Horses" and I just came across a line I really liked.

"A shipwrecked man without an anchor in the world except in his own liquid thoughts where time has lost its sequence."

I like that.  That to me is a very visual way of describing your mind slipping away.

"A shipwrecked man without an anchor in the world expect in his own liquid thoughts where time has lost its sequence."