MIXBAG OF MUSINGS

Backyard bananas We're growing some serious bananas in our backyard. Anybody know if these things become edible at any point???

My baby's feeling sick today. She's been throwing up all day. I spoke with her on the phone earlier. She sounded terrible, the poor thing. Like somebody had stolen her teddy bear. My wife says she doesn't have a fever, so hopefully it's no big deal. I recall feigning sickness for as long as I've been alive. Crying for attention, belly aching to get out of eating, coughing to get out of school. I even faked having the mumps when my brother and sister had it. But my daughter never wants to be sick. It's like the life gets sucked out of her for a short while. She lays in bed, without an appetite or enough energy to draw or color, watching TV or sleeping. Pissed off because we won't be able to take the dogs out to the park when I get home. I'm sure she'll have plenty of opportunities to fake illness later on in life. Right now it just breaks my heart to see her this way. I just went out at lunchtime and bought her a copy of "The Lio...

In a small juke joint off Sunset Boulevard, in the spot where Hollywood and Sunset are only a couple of blocks apart, I was drowning my sorrows in a warm mug of beer. The air was laden with smoke and bad smells, heavy with the endless yelling and bickering of two ugly broads who were strutting their stuff for the male patrons. One of them, as it turned out, was the bartender's daughter. Missy was her name. It was hard to tell if she worked there, or just simply helped out her old man a little. But she'd bring people their beer, every now and then, with a scowl on her face and a wise-ass retort to whatever was said. I'm sure you know the type. I was sitting at the bar. Jack, the bartender (an older man of 60 plus years), was exchanging greetings with another guy. I overheard their conversation. "How you been Jack? Everything alright?" the visitor asked. "You bet! I'm feelin' good," Jack said. "I'm celubratin' tonight, ...

My little Butterfly! Click here for mood music That's it. No more posting today. This is my off weekend and I'm going to try like crazy to get something done! From here on out, all I have time for are my ladies! It's been an awful Friday so far, so I'm going to try my damndest to change the course I'm stuck on. (If I change my mind later I'll just delete this post!) I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!!!

I came home from the office and started emptying out my pockets. I took off my watch, as I usually do, and put it in my watchbox with the others. My daughter stands there staring at my watches. "Would you like to have one of my watches someday?" I ask her. She holds out her wrist and says, "No, that's alright. I've already got one," showing off her Winnie the Pooh watch. "Well then, I'll just give my watches to your cousin Emma," I say, pretending to be hurt. "She can't tell time!" she says, mockingly. "Can you?" I ask. She looks pensive for a second, then smiles and says: "I can tell chocolate time!" I had to laugh. "You sure can," I tell her. "You can always tell chocolate time!" Here's the link for those of you who don't know about chocolate time .

Click here for mood music Due to what happened to Helen today, I'm wondering aloud about the "Comments" we leave one another on our blogs. I'm sure most of us pay close attention to what's said there, as it's a reaction to what we've written. Usually, when a comment is left, we feel flattered and appreciated, however slightly, and complimented that someone would bother to leave an opinion about something we've written. It's encouraging and invigorating. However, and this hasn't happened to me yet, there are visitors who come to criticize. We're a fair mark for criticism and disagreeing points of view, those things are within the rules. But personal attacks are not. Spiteful challenges to our characters are not. Some people tend to "cross the bounds of civility," to quote our good friend The Random Penseur , without asking for an invitation. Overstepping those boundaries is unforgivable but, due to the nature of the i...

Click here for mood music Some years ago, when my wife was eight months pregnant, I was working as an import manager for a cargo airline at Miami International. It was Christmas Eve and we were keeping our offices open until noon. I left our apartment around 7 Am. There wasn't a soul out there. I was driving an old beat up BMW 325, that didn't have a whole lot going for it, other than the fact that it ran. The A/C came and went and the radio had a short. Still, it was fully automated, including controls for the side rearview mirrors on the doors, and for the windows behind the shifter, in between the seats. The only thing it was really missing was a cup holder. I got off the expressway halfway to the airport to get gas and some hot chocolate. I don't usually stop but it was a beautiful day, so I figured what the hell. Why rush to the office? I bought myself an extra large cup. I also picked up a danish and a paper while I was at it. I got back in my car,...

Last night for dinner, my wife made some ground beef patties for my daughter. In our never-ending quest to find things Christina will eat, she cooked the patties and told her they were "burger steaks." Steak is the one thing she'll always eat. I was given some tuna casserole thingy, put together quickly before Cindy darted off to work. "Yay!" she said. "I love burger steaks." "They look yummy," I volunteered. "You can have one," she offered. "That's okay, sweetheart," I said. "Mommy made me something else." "No, but you can have one," she insisted, caringly. "There's too many for me!" "Thank you honey," I said, "but I'm already getting full." "What about you take one for lunch tomorrow," she said, with the air and manner of one who's just discovered the perfect compromise. "You can put one in a bag, like a sandwich, you ...

Click here for mood music A storm brewed above us. We could hear the thunder gaining momentum, rumbling in the depths of the clouds. We held eachother closely. Dan and Melissa were eagerly engaged in conversation down by the road, maybe forty feet away from us. They had driven the four of us out to the countryside, just past the city limits. I was on leave from the Army, visiting my parents. The following day I would be heading back to West Germany. "It's cold," Angela said, wrapping her arms around my torso, inside my jacket. We sat on the grass, listening to Cyndi Lauper wailing from the car radio below. The wind blew around us, surrounding us with the whistling whispers of the tree leaves. Evening was quickly approaching and we both knew our time together was coming to an end. "Get closer," I told her, pulling her even tighter to me. I could feel her breath on my face. My old friend Dan had introduced us the week before, when I first ...

This is Fluke. We've just adopted him. Christina named him. He's 5 months old.

A calendar - one of those 'at-a-glance' calendars that you flip over a day at a time Three picture frames - one that says 'Daddy's girl' of my daughter in her T-Ball outfit, one of my wife in the woods on our honeymoon, and one of my daughter at the beach which says 'BABY' and has a photo album behind it - in it I keep a chronological set of pictures of her going back to her birth. Proud Daddy! A 17" computer monitor, speakers, keyboard, mouse and mousepad. Five paper pads - a regular post-it pad, a 6'x4' lined post-it pad, a stubby square pad of non-stick paper, and a letter size yellow pad where I keep my notes. The fifth one is a promotional paper pad from some staffing agency that came to see me last week. A letter holder, where I keep my unanswered correspondence. A Miniature beach chair where I rest my cell phone. My PDA and docking station, and beside it my PDA leather case. A stack of business cards waiting to get or...

A poem Today I have no tale to tell no clever words to post my beach is void of conch and shell my brain’s a blackened toast Forego the hits then, you might say and leave the net to us we merry crew who write and play and every thought discuss But alas, I cannot let my blog mold, forgotten by my peers I’ve toiled too hard, worked like a dog to gain readers through the years It’s a sad affair, the blogger’s lot: must deliver or demise and in frequent bursts of wit and plot write that others might surmise I will chance today, with nothing to say and I’ll leave thee with my past to both browse and view (in a bloggy way!) all the posts I have amassed.

Would I, that the stars were out tonight and gazing down upon you; they would be as moved by your beauty as I am. And would I that we had a private space to dine in, a candlelight dinner for two...one that you didn't have to cook yourself, and where you didn't get a reproachful and stern look from me for ordering too many margaritas before the entrees arrived. I would, if I could, shower you with a million things: furs, and shoes, and multi-carat diamond rings; I would stuff your purse with credit cards, and buy you a brand new car; I would fly you off to Europe at the drop of a hat, and smother you with lavish presents along the way; I would sail the seas, fly the skies, climb the mountains if you asked, and yes, yes, I would lasso the moon for you as well. But our daily lives leave little room for such adventures, and our responsibilities won't allow us to splurge carelessly. It's easy to forget what brought us together once, now that we're so changed. B...

The smokers blocked the passageway to the Alehouse from the parking lot; bitterly adjusting to the new laws that ban indoor smoking. We entered through the crowded door. The wait for a table, away from the loud music, was ten minutes. The three of us stood there, tired and sweaty after a long night's work in the breezeless heat, until they showed us to our table. Ted and Fred looked worn out. I'm sure I did, too. It was well past midnight and we'd been out there since 5 PM. It's a little Saturday night gig I have every weekend to bring in some extra pocket money. But it's hard work and it takes its toll. Don't know how much longer this old body can do it. We got a booth next to the restrooms. At least it was quiet. After we ordered a pitcher of beer and some food, we took turns going to the head to wash up a little. We observed the tables around us. Unusual people, as it turned out. Across from our table, a couple sat facing each other. They ...

Though Christina was barely past her third birthday, we decided to venture through the Disney MGM Park live version of Beauty and the Beast. It was raining, it had been raining pretty much all day, and the rest of the attractions lost their appeal. The truth is, with the exception of The Magic Kingdom, the parks at DisneyWorld don't have many rides you can take a three year old on. We'd bought the DVD the year before, so she was familiar with the story. As with every Disney attraction, the lines were phenomenal. We had to park our stroller out on the street and haul our bags and daughter through the rain. Oh, we had our ponchos on, but they didn't keep much of the rain off. All they really did was render us invisible in the sea of orange and yellow out there. You lose sight of your party for a second and you're screwed. The show was terrific as expected. Christina was riveted throughout, mouth and eyes wide open. We were back a ways, but we could see the stage wel...

We arrived in Miami in the spring of '97. I had secured a job beforehand working as an agent for a cargo airline at MIA. When we went to meet my new boss, my wife found him to be very engaging. Her first aside to me was "I'll bet you he throws some wild Christmas parties!" As it turned out, he was a little too engaging. His name was Pedro. An imposing man at 6'4", 325 pounds. He was well overweight. More than anything though, what stood out about him was his boisterous voice. Pedro usually spoke like he wanted the entire building to hear what he was saying. "What the fuck, Mr Child?" he would say to me. "How does a man of your education and stamina stay so fucking thin?" Most of what he said failed to make sense. He piled on words in no particular order and he tried to get his meaning across by sheer volume. Rarely did he let you speak, unless he thought you were going to agree with him. If not, he would continue with his bar...

Yesterday the clouds cleared and we saw the sun. Finally, after viewing dark, thundering skies daily for the last few weeks. Summer shouldn't be like that. When I came home from work I was greeted by a "ready-to-go-job-hunting" wife, and an attention starved daughter. With a touch of blue hitting the early evening horizon, my daughter was obstinately demanding a swim in the pool. I was wary at first, thinking the water would most likely be cold. But after stepping in to my knees and finding it agreeable, I acquiesced, and we ran to get our suits on. We splashed around for a couple of hours. I poured myself a drink, played Eva Cassidy over the outdoor speakers, and let my little mermaid have her way with me. There was not a second when she wasn't smiling. At one given moment I retreated from myself, and calmly observed the scene from outside. The pool, the music, and my daughter. As much as I whine about my life, and I feel so overwrought with debt, respon...

I cut a red rose close to the head and removed its thorns. It was small, but fully opened. Its fragrance filled my air and made me think of Claudia. Carefully, I placed it on an open page from the book I bought her. Baudellaire's collected poems. Not very romantic, but we both shared the same love for dark poetry. The rose found its place, evenly pressed by the weight of the pages around it. I kept the book for several days afterwards, to ensure that the rose took it well. When it works, the rose maintains its color and brightness with a trace of its aroma. Mine looked fine. Claudia was sitting alone, reading, at a small cafe called The Place, not far from where she lived. She was still wearing her school uniform, but she had on a thick, white virgin wool sweater over the top. It was the button down type, with big brown wood-like buttons. She looked terrific. Barely fifteen, and she lit my world. She was taking a sip from her tea as I approached. "Hi," I...

This is a great little story. I often dreamed of walking away from it all. When life and its responsibilities got too heavy to bear; when love was unrequited or unkind and the proverbial highway began to call, I considered taking that left turn and never looking back. I'm not sure when it happened, that I allowed myself to be shackled by the comforts life offers. Or when I forgot the early realization that by giving in to those comforts I would forego the pleasures that freedom offers. It wasn't always that way. I decided early on that anything too heavy to carry in a backpack was simply too burdensome to own. But then came things, and my love of things. Things like stereos and books, guitars and accessories, microwave ovens and CD's...what's a guy to do? I remember once while still a bachelor, when I found myself caught up in that materialistic quagmire, that I chose to rid myself of all the objects that held me down. I separated 50 books and 50 records an...

Have you ever had a day when everything seems to go wrong? That's today. And everytime I think nothing else can happen, something else goes to shit. This is all work related, mind you. The personal stuff is already screwed up enough. Right here and now, this is what I want out of life: A raise or a new job One single, small and unassuming, winning ticket to the Florida Lotto My wife to find (and keep!) a job My daughter to be old enough that she may be allowed into the public school system The Dolphins to reach the Superbowl My car to stop making noises like it's about ready to fall apart (with nearly 2 years left to pay on it) More time off to spend with my family A new shed for the backyard Good health and long lives for my parents An Ipod and a laptop My old house not to have any major problems for at least six months An endless supply of fine scotch and good wine An ocassional steak dinner My only remaining dog (I lost the other two to terminal illnesses in the l...

I've been around for awhile, and I've had my share of embarrassing moments. But one moment has always stood out in my mind. I was fourteen at the time, and quite the dashing young man. I had good friends and a budding social life. Our circle surrounded this one buddy of mine who had three beautiful cousins, all from different families, and all in our same age group. That made him a very popular guy. Besides that he had two lovely sisters, but those two, needless to say, were off limits to his friends. As the years went by, I would end up going steady with all three cousins. But at the time we were all just flirting and developing into young adults. This one evening we were out at a party somewhere, and I was having a great time. I remember it was one of those days when everything you do seems to go your way; everything you say sounds clever and charming; and all the girls are looking and smiling at you. I was feeling like a total stud! I danced with one of the ...

Feeling a little down and dramatic...bear with me, please It's been too long since I watched the sunrise. For so many years now, I have missed the daily absence of light receding to cascading rays of sunshine, shuffling quickly over the vast horizon in its path. So fast as to be imperceptible if one was to turn away, or blink at the wrong time. When the flaccid ocean gives birth to the bulging sun, and crowns its child in all its splendor. Oh, what a moment to enjoy! It's been too long, much too long. And where have those sunrises gone, I ask, that I shall never have witnessed? Behind me now, like the people I've abandoned. Forgotten and ignored, replaced by shiny new ones. I somehow remain equivocally convinced, however subconsciously, that every sunset brings along a fresh sunrise. Yet, I'm slowly becoming aware of that final twilight that looms in the horizon - once so distant, now so much closer. Mortality is far too complex for such a shallo...