Whether The Storm or Weather The Storm

Here is another shot at some Johnny and June fiction. It is late, so we'll see if I manage to come up with anything good. If it stinks I'll just nuke it and try again. If you're curious here are links to some prior attempts.

Notes For June- Fragments of Fiction
More about Johnny
June
Johnny and June- A Rough Draft
Some Notes for Fragments of Fiction May 2008

It had been clear for a long time that Johnny and June had stumbled onto something special. They had the sort of relationship that they had always wished for, more or less. It wasn't flawless. They had their ups and downs and moments of doubt. There were times when they would shake their heads and wonder why they had ever gotten involved with each other.

But those moments always passed. Just when they thought that they couldn't be more upset they'd find that the anger had passed and was quickly replaced by a longing for the other. Because in spite of the hard times they knew that when things were right with each other there was nothing better.

There was an intensity and depth to the love they shared that just wouldn't die. At times the flames would seem to fizzle and the shine would wear off of the diamond, but that too didn't last.

Sometimes those moments created more doubt. The intensity and depth was a tricky thing to deal with. June was far more tactile than Johnny. Any time it wavered she began to wonder if maybe she had fooled herself. She'd list all the things that she didn't like about him, but the truth was that it was a relatively short list.

That was a bit frightening for her. It made her wonder if the problem wasn't really him, but her. She'd get lost in thoughts of whether she just couldn't carry a relationship beyond a certain length of time.

Sometimes during these moments she'd find herself doing things to push her Johnny away. It wasn't conscious and if you asked her she'd swear that she wasn't doing it, but Johnny felt differently. He was positive that these moments were an intentional act on her part.

It wasn't always easy to easygoing about it. He had his share of moments when he wanted to pick a fight and let her have it. The thing was that Johnny had long since learned that the worst thing he could do was allow himself to just react and that was what the anger was, a reaction.

So he'd take a deep breath and consider whether it merited a response. More often than not it didn't. Not only that, but he enjoyed disarming her by telling her that he loved her far too much to fight. She'd do something and he'd tell her that if she wanted to end things he wasn't going to make it easy.

And so the moments would pass and they'd go about their business.

At times it seemed a bit screwy, but every love story has its quirks and theirs was no different.

Over time Johnny learned that when things were rough with June the best way to make things better was to arrange some quiet time for the two of them. It didn't have to be a romantic getaway or a weekend away. All they needed were a few hours of quiet time together.

They'd head out to somewhere private and spend a few hours just enjoying each other's company. It never ceased to amaze the two of them how these moments were never awkward. They were comfortable together. They didn't have to talk or be physical to make it work.

It was all a big contradiction. For a person like June who loved order the contradictions were tough. It made it that much harder to be decisive. Johnny was far more used to living on the edge than she was. He had spent years just going off his gut, so in some ways he found the ups and downs to be easier.

But it'd be a lie to say that life on a merry-go-round was easy for him. He had more than his share of moments of doubt. Sometimes he found himself questioning whether he was being selfish by sticking around and that maybe the best thing he could do is just walk away.

Part of him believed that he wasn't entitled to happiness, at least not the sort of happiness that June represented. So he'd try and convince himself that it was almost noble to give her a sign of his love by letting her go. And then he'd laugh and call himself a fool and an idiot because who would really let that sort of love go.

He was determined to see it through to the end. It wasn't always going to be easy. There were many reasons why things be tough, but he believed that if they were steadfast and held onto each other they could weather the storm. That was the goal, weathering the storm.

It wasn't whether the storm would be too hard to deal with, just how to best sail through it. So when times were tough he'd remind himself that it wasn't a question of if they'd survive or how, they just would.

One day the clouds would pass and they'd find themselves richly rewarded for their devotion or something along those lines.

Blog Features & A Few Notes

I have three other blogs besides the Shack that I more or less run, but I don't really spend much time on any of them. They kind of exist in a sort of limbo in which I tend to them upon the odd occasion.

It is a bit frustrating because they started with such potential. I took much of what I had learned from this blog and tried to apply it there. The goal was to do more, improve and grow, create a bionic blog.

Can't really say that I have succeeded or failed and for the moment I am ok with that. Ok, I lied, I don't really feel good about it, but I have more important issues occupying my time. That is part of the joy of being a responsible adult, making decisions about priorities and then acting upon them.

So for now I have made the choice to try and focus somewhat upon this little corner of cyberspace. As I enter my fifth year I have the same goals and objectives as always. It is time to improve the writing and layout and be discovered as the next great writer so that I can make one gazillion dollars.

Hell, I don't need a gazillion or a bazillion, I'd settle for a million

Played ball today. I needed it. When I got to the gym I was in a foul mood. Fire was coming from my nose and laser beams were shooting from my eyes. I punished the opposition on the boards. I threw myself into the breach over and over. Every loose ball that I could get to was something that I wanted.

The goal was to completely exhaust myself and I did it. My team played five games. We won the first four, but couldn't quite get over the hump to win the fifth. It was a bit disappointing, but I just ran out of gas and literally stumbled into the locker room.

I tore off my clothes and dragged my lazy ass to the sauna. I sat down and leaned against a wall and just listened to the conversation. After about 15 minutes I had sufficiently recovered enough energy to stagger to the jacuzzi. Soaked my aching body and then stumbled into a chair and fell asleep.

Apparently the fellas were less than pleased with the loud snoring emanating from me so they dropped a bag of ice on my belly and were surprised to find that I didn't spring from my chair. Instead I opened my eyes and used my heat vision to scorch the hell out of the jackasses who were foolish enough to disturb my rest.

Ok, that is an exaggeration, I don't really have heat vision. But if I did I might have some splaining to do to a few people.

Eventually I managed to shower, get dress, drive home and eat dinner. Don't remember all that much from after dinner because I fell asleep again. Can't say how long I slept for except that I woke up with enough energy to do a few things around the house and then made my way here.

Almost midnight and I can't decide whether to crawl back between the sheets or just write. May try to bang out some more Johnny and June or may do something else. Stick around and you might found out what happens.

LBJ, Jews and Israel

Meryl tipped me off to this post. Here is an excerpt:

"The Texas congressman’s district had only 400 Jews, but clearly the Johnson family’s Christian teachings had given him a strong affinity for Jews and their return to the Holy Land.

Five days after taking office in 1937, LBJ broke with the “Dixiecrats” and supported an immigration bill that would naturalize illegal aliens, mostly Jews from Lithuania and Poland. In 1938, Johnson was told of a young Austrian Jewish musician who was about to be deported from the United States. With an element of subterfuge, LBJ sent him to the U.S. Consulate in Havana to obtain a residency permit. Erich Leinsdorf, the world famous musician and conductor, credited LBJ for saving his live.

Johnson Saved Hundreds of Jews

That same year, LBJ warned a Jewish friend that European Jews faced annihilation. Somehow, Johnson provided him with a pile of signed immigration papers that were used to get 42 Jews out of Warsaw. But that wasn’t enough. According to historian, James M. Smallwood, Congressman Johnson used legal and sometimes illegal methods to smuggle “hundreds of Jews into Texas, using Galveston as the entry port. Enough money could buy false passports and fake visas in Cuba, Mexico, and other Latin American countries. … Johnson smuggled boatloads and planeloads of Jews into Texas. He hid them in the Texas National Youth Administration…. Johnson saved at least four or five hundred Jews, possibly more..”"

The Elder has more.

Season Finale of Lost

I thought it was excellent. Well done, enjoyable and not a bad way to pass the time.

Dental Floss

Apparently I am floss challenged. That is not to say that I do not floss, I do. Rather I can't seem to pull the correct length. It is either too short or too long.

On top of that I have large hands that I can't quite fit in my mouth. It is probably a good thing, not that I really have a standing need to stick my hands in my mouth.

Some people might tell you that I am good at sticking my foot in my mouth. That is a tired euphemism, especially since my feet are even larger than my hands. I couldn't fit them inside even if I wanted to.

And I don't.

This is a ridiculous post, but right now my life is rather ridiculous. If you ask if that is good or bad I will say that I do not know. What does it matter and how did I get here.

One more comment about floss. I have a stupid joke I do with floss in which I simulate an air conditioner. Some of you may remember the A/C displays at Sears, you know the one that used the green thread on the grill.

That is all for now.

From The Archives

I stumbled onto some old crap that I decided to dust off and display again.

Hate Mail

You Don't Smell Like Daddy

Parents- List Your Child's Most Irritating Toy/Show

The Rocky Horror Picture Show

Will They Know Me- I Am Going To Die

The Internet's Impact Upon Sex & Relationships

Selective Memories

How I Write

Polishing Posts- Editing

Advice You Probably Won't Need

Goodbye Harvey Korman

CNN is reporting that Harvey Korman has died. The great Hedley Lamarr is no more.

You Don't have to Pay Full Price

CNN/Money has an article that discusses how many retailers are trying to continue to bring in new customers during hard times.

"NEW YORK (CNNMoney.com) -- Times are tough. The economy is weakening, consumer confidence is at a low and Americans are struggling just to buy basics like gas and groceries. So when it comes to getting goods that fall beyond the bare necessities, shoppers are getting smarter.

Not only has scouring the Web for the best possible price become standard protocol before buying a big-ticket item, but more consumers are employing creative strategies for scoring hot deals on everything from stereos to sweat pants.

Comparison shopping, haggling and swapping discount codes are all becoming mainstream marks of savvy shoppers. And retailers are playing along.

Coupon craze

Swapping online coupons or discount codes is one quick way to score a reduced price. Often simply applying the right coupon or promotion code during the online payment process can mean a savings of 10% to 30% or at least free shipping.

"People are feeling a bit of squeeze and are looking for ways to save money without cutting back their spending," said Barry Boone, owner of currentcodes.com and naughtycodes.com.

Web sites like currentcodes.com list discount codes for a number of online retailers from Amazon to Zappos. If you find a code to an online store you're shopping at, just copy it and paste it into the "promotional code" box in the checkout area of the retailer's Web site."

Here is a list of sites that you can use to find coupons:

blog.couponmountain.com

coolsavings.com

couponblog.net

couponcabin.com

currentcodes.com

deallocker.com

naughtycodes.com

printable-coupons.blogspot.com

retailmenot.com

wow-coupons.com

If you know of any others please feel free to leave them in the comments.

The 10 worst jobs in science

MSNBC has an interesting list of the ten worst jobs in science. Read the whole article and see what they have to say, or let me walk you through an abridged version.

No. 10: Whale-feces researcher
No. 9: Forensic entomologist
No. 8: Olympic drug tester
No.7: Gravity Research Subject
No. 6: Microsoft security grunt
No. 5: Coursework carcass preparer
No. 4: Garbologist
No. 3: Elephant vasectomist
No. 2: Oceanographer
No. 1 Hazmat diver

Responding to Comments

Once upon a time I referred to blog posts that had no comments as orphans or something along those lines, I don't quite remember and don't feel like looking it up. What I can say for certain is that I remember being disturbed to see that some posts never received any feedback.

It was kind of a silly thing to be miffed about. I really don't blog for the comments, but that doesn't mean that I don't want/enjoy/appreciate the feedback. It may be a secondary thing, but nonetheless it is nice to see that someone took the time to respond.

Now many years into my blogging career I pay far less attention to that than I used to. Sure, there are some posts that I think are amazing that still never receive any comments, but I don't pay much attention to it. The comments are nice, but they don't drive the blog.

All that being said I have a responsibility to respond to comments and I need to come clean about this. Lately I have been a bit lax about it. I read every comment that comes in and I try to respond in a timely fashion, but sometimes I fall short.

That is not to say that I do not respond, but sometimes it might take me a couple of days to get to it. My apologies.

Also, the rules of the blog dictate that I let you know that sometimes I have nothing more to say or add and as a result I not respond to a comment.

Anyhoo, that is all I have to say about this for now. Thanks for reading.

My Fourth Blogiversary- What Do I have To Say

It seems that another year has come and gone. Another year of challenges, struggles and more than a few victories. Another year in which I promised myself to come up with a more profound blogiversary post than the past, but still didn't.

So let me get a few things out of the way. When I look back at the posts I put up during my first few months of blogging I really cringe. Some of them are just dreadful, the exact opposite of the profundities I always hope to find there.

For that matter I tend to dislike most of my posts. When I read them I always find an expression that sounds tired, far too trite or falls short in some other way. When I look back I wonder what the hell I was thinking and why I wasn't more careful in my editing.

And then I begin to consider all of the benefits that I have received from blogging and I begin to smile. Blogging has been the source of new friendships and provided an education in many areas that I wouldn't have normally received.

I was truly touched by the support I received after posting The Bearer of Bad Tidings- One Less Set of Footsteps.

Blogging has truly opened up new interests and changed my views on some things.

If you have spent any time reading the junk I put up you are aware that I often use this place to conduct my own therapy. I air out the junk that rattles around my skull and use the screen to clean out the clutter. I share my hopes and dreams and fears.

Here in cyberspace I sometimes scream. Here in cyberspace I cry. But more often here in cyberspace I laugh and find a way to get through the rough spots.

Here in cyberspace I test out my writing. I have taken and continue to take great pleasure in writing Fragments of Fiction.

The opportunity to document the wonderful and crazy things that my children do has been tremendous. I have four years of records that I wouldn't otherwise have.

As I sit here I mull over whether to try and list the bloggers that have been here for most if not all of the ride. I don't think that I could possibly do it justice. I don't think that I could possibly list you all, but I'll give it a shot. I know that I am going to leave some people, accept my apologies now.

The following is in no order of importance, just an incomplete list of bloggers that have made this experience more fun for me.

Treppenwitz
Israellycool
The Muqata
Elie's Expositions
Soccer Dad
Seraphic Secret
Stacey's Shmata
Serandez
NY's Funniest Rabbi
The Rebbetzin's Husband
Toner Mishap
An Audience of One

A couple more comments about this incomplete list. Each of you has touched me in a different way. Some of you and I have developed real friendships. We have had the opportunity to meet in person and develop something special that exists in real time as well as cyberspace.

But I think that the one thing that really ties you all together is that I feel like I have found a person that has taken the time to give a real picture of who you are. Over the years I have seen the good and the bad. You didn't take the easy way out and edit things to create a false picture of yourself.

At least that is my impression, who knows, I could be wrong.

I suppose that I should give some thought to how to wrap this up, but then again brevity is not my strong suit. Nonetheless for the sake of the 17 long time readers I'll give it a shot.

If you ask me how much longer you can expect to find me blogging I'll tell you that I don't know. This is post number 5,716. I have an unofficial goal of hitting 10,000. I may keep going until I hit the mark or I may not.

It is hard to say. I wouldn't be surprised to see it go on for years, nor would I be surprised if one day I just put down the keyboard and walked away. Some bloggers like Stephen continue to reinvent themselves. I must say that I find that to be somewhat intriguing.

Anyway, I think that for now I have done enough babbling for now. In just a moment I'll sign off and listen to some music and fall asleep. Who knows, in the morning I just might decide that I hate this and rewrite the whole damn thing.

A Few more odds and ends:

Past Blogiversary posts

A Blogiversary
Happy Blogivesary To Me
My Third Blogiversary- Not Quite a Farewell

Some old posts that I stumbled upon and decided to share with you just because I did.

I Am The Source of Evil In The JBlogosphere
Liveblogging Dinner With The Shmata Queen Part II
Sir, I Need A Condom
My Daughter's Favorite Book
Dancing WIth My Daughter
Some Things I'll Teach My Children
Why I Blog

A Different Sort of Childhood

While I was traversing the fine state of Texas I took a moment to give G a shout to try and catch up. I met the old man on the first day of kindergarten, way back in the fuzzy days of 1974.

Every now and then big, tall and lanky and I pull out the old photos and thank the powers that be that we weren't responsible for the incredibly ugly clothes that represent the '70s. Gosh, some of the crap that our parents made us wear is beyond hideous. Can't wait to see what happens when the children get a hold of those photos. I am ready to take a bit of abuse.

Anyway, the bastage didn't bother to pick up the phone. This means one of two things.

1) Those exceptionally old ears can't hear the soft ring of a cellphone.
2) The parents of the new woman were busy interrogating him.

On a side note he and I always refer to each other in the loving manner which you have just read. I don't know when it started, but it is just how we do it.

All of this brings me to the point of the post in which I expound upon how different childhood is for my children. I could rail on about technology, but that is not the big distinction.

The biggest change is that when I was a kid we played outside all year round. During the school year you came home changed and then ran outside. If you listened to your mom you usually heard a reminder to be home by dinner time, but you still went on your merry little way.

In my neighborhood we were outside and running around at a very young age. Older siblings usually kept half an eye upon you. That didn't mean that you couldn't get into a heap of trouble, you could. And typically those same older siblings helped encourage you to do the very thing that got you into hot water.

But things are different now. With the proliferation of news about pedophiles, rapists, murderers and bad guys in general parents are hesitant to let their children run around without careful supervision.

It used to be that mom was happy to do her chores indoors and give the occasional look out the window. Not anymore. Parents want to be outside with their kids where they can keep a close eye on things.

I really do not believe that things are worse now than when I was young. IMO the difference is the amount of information. With all the stories about the terrible things that happen to children it is hard let your kids do anything that you can't see.

And with our busy lives it can be really hard to work all day, come home and find time to let the kids run around outside, especially during the shorter days of the year.

FWIW, in my neighborhood I do see a lot of kids playing outside, but they tend to be older than my children. So maybe it is something that will happen, just at a later age than when I began. But something tells me that even if it does happen it will be with more reservations from the parents than when we were young.

The end of the innocence is not limited to the youth.

The Worst Place To Have Plumbing Problems

I can't think of too many places that could possibly be more problematic than in outer space. I hope that they have plenty of bottles and pots, or at least corks and rubber bands.

"WASHINGTON (AP) -- The international space station's lone toilet is broken, leaving the crew with almost nowhere to go. So NASA may order an in-orbit plumbing service call when space shuttle Discovery visits next week.

Until then, the three-man crew will have to make do with a jury-rigged system when they need to urinate.

While one of the crew was using the Russian-made toilet last week, the toilet motor fan stopped working, according to NASA. Since then, the liquid waste gathering part of the toilet has been working on-and-off.

Fortunately, the solid waste collecting part is functioning normally.

Russian officials don't know the cause of the problem, and the crew has been unable to fix it.

The crew has used the toilet on the Soyuz return capsule, but it has a limited capacity. They now are using a backup bag-like collection system that can be connected to the broken toilet, according to NASA public affairs officials."

For the full story flush here.

Thank You!!- Haveil Havalim Hosts

Haveil Havalim is the weekly roundup of posts from the Jewish/Israeli blogosphere. As many of you know the carnival was originally organized by Soccer Dad and I have since taken over the role of admin.

This is a post that is long overdue to thank the many bloggers who have stepped up to the plate and taken on the responsibility of hosting as well as those of you who continue to contribute because without your help H.H. would cease to exist.

So I wanted to take a moment to publicly thank those of you who have hosted and those of you who are standing on deck. Here is a list of bloggers whose help has been invaluable. Take a moment and go say hello.

And please note that some of the newer hosts are already taking a second turn at bat.

Past Posts

Ill call Baila
Esser Agaroth
The Israel Situation
My Shrapnel
Life in Israel
Jtown Underground
Tzipiyah.com
SimplyJews
Ima on (and off) the Bimah
Frume Sarah's World

Future Hosts

Frum Satire
Writes Like She Talks
Soccer Dad
Ima on (and off) the Bimah
Daled Amos
Yidwithlid
Esser Agaroth
Frume Sarah's World
The Rebbetzin's Husband
Yehuda Berlinger

For a more complete list of past hosts please click here.

A Few Hikes I Might Attempt

David has a video of a pretty cool hike. It is not for the light of heart. But then again neither is the Mt. Huashan Hiking Trail.

I grabbed the two photos below from Rick Archer's site. It is worth clicking through to go read more about the hike.

The Husband Store- A Joke

This is from the mailbag.

A brand new store has just opened in New York City that sells Husbands.

When women go to choose a husband, they have to follow the instructions at the entrance:-

"You may visit this store ONLY ONCE! There are 6 floors and the value of the products increase as you ascend the flights. You may choose any item from a particular floor, or may choose to go up to the next floor, but you CANNOT go back down except to exit the building

So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband.

On the 1st floor the sign on the door reads: Floor 1 - These men have jobs.

The 2nd floor sign reads: Floor 2 - These men Have Jobs and Love Kids.

The 3rd floor sign reads: Floor 3 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids and are extremely good looking.

"Wow," she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.

She goes to the 4th floor and the sign reads: Floor 4 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Good Looking and Help with Housework.

"Oh, mercy me!" she exclaims, "I can hardly stand it!"

Still, she goes to the 5th floor and sign reads: Floor 5 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Gorgeous, help with Housework and Have A Strong Romantic Streak. She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the 6th floor and the sign reads:

Floor 6 - You are visitor 31,456,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please. Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store .

To avoid gender bias charges, the store's owner opens a New Wives store just across the street.

The 1st floor has wives that love sex.

The 2nd floor has wives that love sex and have money.

The 3rd through 6th floors have never been visited.

Traveling Jack's Plane Made It

I am pleased to say that my unscheduled trip to Dallas was quite successful. I am even more pleased to say that my plane did not crash. If you had a chance to check out this post you'll see that my kids were a bit concerned about this. Ok, I was minorly concerned about it as well, but not so much.

Did my usual father bit with them, flashed them a big smile, hugged and reassured them and even said Tefilat Ha-Derech with them, although it most assuredly wasn't done from inside of a tank. And might I add that some days I'd like to have my own tank to drive around town in. The mileage isn't great, but it does wonders for solving road rage for other drivers. No one wants to get in a fight with the guy that can crush your car.

Anyhoo, the flight out there wasn't too bad, but that is probably due to the time of departure. It left at 7 AM which meant that I had to get up at the ungodly hour of 4 something am. Throughout my adult life I have tried to make a point of never being awake at that particular time unless I happened to be coming home from a night out on the town.

In this case the early morning played to my advantage as I was able to enjoy the comfort of the last four rows to myself. Unfortunately something I consumed the day before decided to play with me so I found myself traversing the seven feet between my seat and the closet they call a bathroom more times than I care to remember.

If ever I need to find a way to make myself feel like a I am physically imposing I only need step into an airplane bathroom. My shoulders extend from one side to the other and my knees scrape the door. Surely there is no more luxurious way to enjoy a call of nature than to do so from the midst of an undersized closet in a flying tin can.

The trip from here to there was relatively short so the joy of the plane ride was short lived. Once again I got a kick out of the rental car agent telling me to be careful of the traffic and to watch the heat. Clearly they haven't spent much time in paradise.

There is a lot more that could be shared but I'll do you all a favor and cover some of the highlights. Sunday was a long day. As I mentioned I woke up rather early, hopped on the plane, grabbed a car and then drove about 150 miles or so.

On my way back to the hotel the GPS quit so I had to fumble around a bit to get back to the hotel. Finally made it and then discovered that the key to my room wasn't working. Sooooooooo, I trudged back down to the front desk and spoke with a very nice man who I couldn't understand.

I could have sworn he said Everybody Wang Chung Tonight. It took great effort not to try and reply with some attempt at wit. I was pretty tired and I swear that it sounded like he said it. I couldn't help but wonder if he was giving me the first part of an '80s password. Should I have replied with something like Brat Pack, Duran Duran or maybe Kajagoogoo.

I don't know.

This morning I enjoyed a fabulous 12 course breakfast meal that was prepared by the Shmata Queen. Yes folks, she lives, even if she doesn't blog any longer. And it was my good fortune not to be poisoned by the Texan temptresses culinary skills.

However I did find it all so entrancing that I almost managed to miss my flight. Just barely made it and I do mean barely. As I ran up to the gate I walked right onto the plane and found that I was seated behind a giant of a man. Nice fellow, kind of reminded me of Chicken from Survivor. Would have liked him better if he didn't feel the need to put the seat back so far his Ten gallon hat was tickling my nose and the seat was across my lap.

He is lucky that I didn't have a marker or black shoe polish or I might have had to try a few tricks out. He is probably more thankful that I didn't fall asleep; because if I had I might have snored and or drooled in his ear. Now that is probably more information than any of you want, but I am a giving sort of fellow.

One last comment about Chicken. The man had terrible gas. It was so bad I was tempted to open the emergency row door, if for no other reason than to have the sanctuary of that fine yellow oxygen mask.

More later. Jack is out.

Haveil Havalim- Frume Sarah Style

Haveil Havalim is live. Go say hi to Frume Sarah.

What If The Plane Crashes

A last minute business trip has me feeling more harried than a one legged man in an ass kicking contest. Racing around trying to get normal errands and a slew of new ones done in half the time. Disorganized, scrambled, disjointed and a bit disconcerted.

Not how I normally operate, no really it isn't. Breathless, heart pounding, too big a deal to blow and yet not big enough to take that seriously. I find myself short tempered and easily irritated, or maybe that is my normal persona.

Have to be up before the crack of down to race off to the airport to go swimming in uncharted waters. Contradictions abound, confident and nervous, feeling optimistic and despondent. If only I could have a little bit more time things would be easier, but that is not how it is.

It is never easy. Not for me, not for me. The trick is reminding myself that no matter what happens I always land of my feet. Better than a cat, not as graceful, but a thick skull helps cushion the blows.

Gather myself and get composed. All is well. The skitter-scatter of earlier has passed and I am ready to hit the world. All is good. All will be well because I'll make it that way and then the kids hit me.

"Daddy, what happens if the plane crashes?" "Daddy, what happens if it runs out of gas." "Daddy, if you die I am going to cry forever."

Torn by their plaintive cries I reassure them that nothing is going to happen. I flash them my best fatherly smile and sweep them into my arms. I don't know where this fear comes from, but I am here to help them.

Flashes of the auto accident I was in a few years ago remind me that things could have turned out very differently. My car was totaled. Tow truck driver didn't believe that I walked away, called me Superman.

I laugh to myself at the memory and realize that turning 39 bothers me more than I want to admit. Am I really having an early mid life crisis. That is not me, but maybe it is.

I play ball with reckless abandon throwing my body every which way. I am covered in bruises. My knees hurt, an elbow aches and the pinched nerve in my neck is acting up. Every day I fight to prove to myself that the clock has stopped ticking. Every morning I wake up and feel like I got my butt kicked.

"Daddy, can you promise me that the plane will not crash."

Torn, I want to say yes, but part of me hesitates. What if it does. What if I die. Will my lying create more issues. Decide to lie, stats say that it is unlikely.

I used to love flying, but now it has turned into such a pain. I am not real excited about getting on the plane. I'll do it because it is worth doing, but I won't like it.

Make my daughter smile by telling her I need a special princess kiss to protect me. One more hug from her big brother and it is off to bed. Time for me to finish packing.

I am off into the wild blue yonder. My stomach aches and my head hurts. I must really be tired because this whole deal bothers me more than normal. Going to get some shuteye because I know that a good night's rest cures a lot.

Wish me luck and I'll see you later.

If You're Hairier Than Bigfoot

If you're Hairier than Bigfoot or make Cousin It look like a candidate for Rogaine you just might want to check out the Mangroomer. It is a product that I swear should be attached to a Ronco commercial.

The image below cracks me up, but I have to ask why they used a hairless model to promote the superior advantages of the Mangroomer to other proven sources of hair removal such as Nair, wives, razor blades, forest fires and tuition bills.Now part of me feels badly about making fun of such a fine device, but this just begs for it. Certainly I am not as obnoxious as the people at Shaverama who had the following to say:

We're going to wait for the "BUTTCRACK" shaver.

Now that is the kind of high praise that every inventor wishes that they would receive. Or to dig something out of the archives, I bet that Old Doc Bean wishes that he would have had this option.

Traveling Jack's Sideshow Extravaganza

It has been one heck of a week. I have been in and out of so many juke joints I am not quite sure what day of the week it is.

Anyhoo, I may or may not have time to write some new posts so for now I am going to leave you with an invitation to search through the archives or spend a little time reading/re-reading these golden oldies.

Later on I might have to read them myself and see if I still agree with what I wrote.

Why The Baal Teshuva World Irritates Me

Morality Without Religion- A Comment to The Self-Righteous

The Long And Winding Road

The Long And Winding Road Part Two

The Long and Winding Road Part Three

The Long And Winding Road Part 4

Playing Games With Telemarketers

What The Hell Happened to Courtesy

Blog Questions We Ask Ourselves

Back later, I hope.

Thursday Afternoon on iTunes

When We Dance- Sting
All I Want Is You- U2
I'm On Fire- Bruce Springsteen
Knockin' On Heaven's Door- Bob Dylan
Layla- Derek and the Dominos
I've Loved and Lost Again- Patsy Cline
One- Metallica
Franklin's Tower- Grateful Dead
Lola- The Kinks
The House Of The Rising Sun- The Animals
Roll over Beethoven- Jerry Lee Lewis

From The Mailbag

Readers email me all the time. Here are a few notes and the foolish answers that I decided to share with you. Can't say that they are all that insightful or interesting, but nonetheless they are yours to consume.

Dear Jack,

Who are Johnny and June?

Thanks,

Dave Hill

Dear Dave,

I see that you are busy. Far too busy asking questions. Don't you know that curiosity killed the cat. The answer is that you know Johnny and June.

Thanks,

Jack

Dear Jack,

You seem like a real pain in the ass to deal with. How do people deal with you?

-Mike

Mike,

Usually with a deck of marked cards.

Jack,

How would you describe yourself?

Yours,

Maxine

Dear Maxine,

Here is your answer: A work in progress. How's that.

Jack,

What is your relationship to Jameel's waffles?

-Rafi

Rafi,

I'd say murderous. He cooks 'em and I eat 'em.

Hi Jack,

How many bloggers have you met in person?

-Marc

Hi Marc,

Approximately 6.

Thanks,

Jack

Walkabout- Time To Look For Answers

Freestyle blogging coming fast and furious. Various thoughts about things that I think I think or might not think that I think or could think that I think. It doesn't make sense to me either.

My father took a moment to complain/comment that my son has the same habit of asking for advice and then doing his own thing that I do. I had to laugh. I don't think that my dad is all that different. It is kind of a rite of passage of the tribe of Jack. You find yourself troubled about something and seek out answers only to ignore everything that was suggested to you.

I like the idea of the Aboriginal walkabout. It is that time when you go out into the bush by yourself and take some time to learn about yourself.

Sometimes I remind myself that change is not in and of itself a bad thing. The fear of what could happen can be worse than the actual event. It is not always easy to turn off your mind and sit in the silence. Sometimes the easiest way for me to do it is to exercise until I am physically exhausted.

My workout ends and I sit inside the steam room and...I don't really know what. I just sit there and continue to sweat. If I have done a proper job of wearing myself out I can't tell you what happens, just that I am there.

Life is a roller coaster. Some moments are up and some are down. The hard part is remembering that the bad times will change just as the good does.

The really hard part about being exhausted is that it makes all of your problems look more imposing than they are.

Got a dear friend who is fighting to get through a few challenges of his own. About twice a week I have to remind him that it is ok to be upset. It is ok to be afraid. It is ok to feel like things will never improve and it is ok to hope that they will.

That may sound ridiculous, but I think that he forgets. Today I told him that things will get better and he said that they could get worse. You know what, they very well might. It is entirely possible that they will, but even if they do they will get better.

Some days it is hard to get through the crap. I can only speak for me, but I know that there are times when I feel like I am living minute to minute. There are times when I feel like I am floating through life and that real happiness is something that other people get.

But I am too stubborn to accept that or maybe too much of a dreamer. Who knows. All I know is that I have some dreams that I am determined to turn into reality. I don't let the small bumps prevent those from happening.

Keywords For May

Here is an abbreviated list of keywords that were used to find this little corner of cyberspace. It never ceases to amaze me how people stumble onto/into this joint.

When love comes walking in
meaning of zohan
you follow your heart and your head will come
favorite song lyrics
what did dr. seuss do for the war
the heart wants what the heart wants
Anne from cleveland Heights
explaining death to children
redemption meaning
sex on the side
when was the saying heroes are made, not born made
trust in our love
poison frogs and ant
can not have random sex with someone you love
what is the meaning of get the best of me
if you go triple platinum it has nothing to do with
richie's pizza jerusalem
westin adventures
how to be a better car salesman
when you die what happens to your penis
meaning of baruch dayan emes
Hamat gader synagogue
Sing like William Shatner
You will smile again
funny bathroom noises
ethics of pirkei

Some More Links That Caught My Eye

How To Eavesdrop on Bluetooth Conversations-I could think of a few uses for this.

A Walking Table- Kind of Cool.

Insults from Around The World- Because you never know when you might need one of these.

Business Cards That Will Get You Business

Here are some pix of a few that I liked with links to the whole load.

How To Open a Beer Without an Opener

I have used a few of these tricks once or twice. Funny to realize that I learned them all a good twenty years or so ago.

The Israeli Flying Car

Wired reports:

A group of Israeli technology and defense firms are working on what could become the world's first robotic aircraft for evacuating, and even treating, soldiers injured on the battlefield. Let's just hope the technology is a little slicker than the concept art (right).

Israel's Fisher Institute for Air and Space Strategic Studies is working with local techies and arms-makers to build "MedUAV," a combination of ducted-fan flying drone and robotic ambulance. According to Defense News' Barbara Opall-Rome, the Institute is hoping -- hoping -- to start test flights in 24 months. Eventually, the idea is to carry up to four passengers at speeds of 150 knots and heights of up to 10,000 feet.

(If the whole thing looks retro-futuro familiar, that's because Urban Aeronautics, makers of this concept drone, is one of the companies behind the robo-medevac.)

Six of the 119 soldiers killed in Israel's 33-day war with Hezbollah might have survived, if the Israeli Defense Forces "had been able to evacuate casualties within the so-called 'golden hour,' when their chances for recovery were relatively high. But because the IDF could not thoroughly cleanse urban areas of hidden terrorists and concealed rocket-launching squads, the Israel Air Force often could not dispatch medical evacuation helicopters upon demand," Defense News notes.

Cheapest and Most Expensive Gasoline

Courtesy of CNN Money. Comments forthcoming.

Most expensive places to buy gas

Rank	Country	Price/gal
1.	Eritrea	$9.58
2.	Norway	$8.73
3.	United Kingdom	$8.38
4.	Netherlands	$8.37
5.	Monaco	$8.31
6.	Iceland	$8.28
7.	Belgium	$8.22
8.	France	$8.07
9.	Germany	$7.86
10.	Portugal	$7.84
108.	United States	$3.45

Where gasoline is cheapest

1. Venezuela 12 cents
2. Iran 40 cents
3. Saudi Arabia 45 cents
4. Libya 50 cents
5. Swaziland 54 cents
6. Qatar 73 cents
7. Bahrain 81 cents
8. Egypt 89 cents
9. Kuwait 90 cents
10. Seychelles 98 cents
44. United States $3.45

Birthday Gifts

Excuse for me sounding childish, but I received virtually no birthday gifts this year. It surprised me. What surprised me even more was that the lack of gifts bothered me. I wouldn't have guessed that it would, but it did.

Got a gift card for Barnes & Noble from some family members. I appreciate that. I love books and will most definitely make use of the card. The funny thing is that I can't figure out what I want to buy. It is not something that happens to me. I can always find a book or two that interests me.

But for some reason I can't quite make up my mind as to what to get. I have a bunch that I am considering, just not sure what.

For a while I played around with the idea of buying a CD, but in the iTunes era I rarely find an entire CD that I want. It is much easier and far more economical to buy the few tracks that I truly like.

I need to find a chunk of time to go wander the aisles and see what catches my fancy. Perhaps the MLBF Chronicles.

Not Their Finest Moments

As I sit here watching the video below and others like it I am reminded that my children are growing up in a different world than I did. In some ways it is far less forgiving.

Tis But a Flesh Wound

The Rebbitzen's Husband tipped me off to this one:

"PROVO, Utah (AP) -- A newspaper photographer got a little too close to the action at the state high school track championships -- and was speared through the leg by a javelin.

Ryan McGeeney of the Standard-Examiner was spared serious injury Saturday, and even managed to snap a photo of his speared leg while others tended to him.

"If I didn't, it would probably be my editor's first question when I got back," McGeeney said.

The 33-year-old McGeeney, an ex-Marine who spent six months in Afghanistan, was taking pictures of the discus event and apparently wandered into off-limits area set aside for the javelin.

Striking just below the knee, the javelin tip went through the skin and emerged on the other side of his leg.

"It wasn't real painful. ... I was very lucky in that it didn't hit any blood vessels, nerves, ligaments or tendons," McGeeney said."

Best of line of the article goes to the coach who said:

"One of the first things that came to my mind was, 'Good thing we brought a second javelin,"' Miles' coach, Richard Vance, said Monday.

Can you feel the love.

Coming Soon- The Search For Her Smile

Join Indiana Jack on the epic adventure The Search For Her Smile coming to a grapevine near you.

Notes For June- Fragments of Fiction

As I bang out the pieces to the latest editions of Fragments of Fiction I have made a habit of sharing some of my notes with you. Not sure if anyone besides myself appreciates it, but I think that at some point in time it might be of interest.

June sat down and brushed her long dark hair and tried to relax. She lived a very busy life and had precious few moments to herself. Alone in front of the mirror she wondered how life had come to be like this. She prided herself on her practicality and had always considered herself to be someone who could bloom wherever she was planted.

It just hadn't ever occurred to her that one day she'd find herself in this particular situation. Decisive and goal oriented she had relied upon her old standard, research, research, research, make a list and then execute the plan.

This time she found that she couldn't rely upon her old standbys. Relationships don't always lend themselves to a plan and emotions make it hard to make decisions. She found that irritating and a bit endearing. Johnny had always had a way of upsetting her world.

It was part of what she loved about him and part of what drove her crazy. He was very good at figuring out what to do and what to say. Sometimes that had served him well and sometimes it made his life more difficult as she had come to be more disappointed when he did the wrong thing.

She just expected more of him. She loved that it felt like he could read her mind, or at least she had.

Lately she had felt disconnected and out of sorts. It was disconcerting and upsetting. She wanted to let him in and to feel close, but she just couldn't make herself do it. At times she found herself doing things to push him away. Again, she didn't mean to.

It made her frustrated and angry that he wouldn't just leave. She was confused to begin with and it confused her more that he didn't respond as she expected. But Johnny never did exactly what she thought.

She pushed and he pulled. She yelled and he spoke softly, most of the time. Sometimes he pushed back.

More and more often she found herself worried that she was a disappointment and that one day he would just disappear. He told her frequently not to worry and said that he would be there.

Johnny figured that June's malaise was just one of those things and that given time she'd work through it.

Does America Waste Food

The N.Y. Times reports:

As it turns out, Americans waste an astounding amount of food — an estimated 27 percent of the food available for consumption, according to a government study — and it happens at the supermarket, in restaurants and cafeterias and in your very own kitchen. It works out to about a pound of food every day for every American.

Grocery stores discard products because of spoilage or minor cosmetic blemishes. Restaurants throw away what they don’t use. And consumers toss out everything from bananas that have turned brown to last week’s Chinese leftovers. In 1997, in one of the few studies of food waste, the Department of Agriculture estimated that two years before, 96.4 billion pounds of the 356 billion pounds of edible food in the United States was never eaten. Fresh produce, milk, grain products and sweeteners made up two-thirds of the waste. An update is under way.

The study didn’t account for the explosion of ready-to-eat foods now available at supermarkets, from rotisserie chickens to sandwiches and soups. What do you think happens to that potato salad and meatloaf at the end of the day?

A more recent study by the Environmental Protection Agency estimated that Americans generate roughly 30 million tons of food waste each year, which is about 12 percent of the total waste stream. All but about 2 percent of that food waste ends up in landfills; by comparison, 62 percent of yard waste is composted.

I Love French Toast

It is one of my favorite treats. How about you?

A Relationship Challenged

This is part of the Johnny and June Fragment I have been working on. If you want to read what has come before try:

More about Johnny
June
Johnny and June- A Rough Draft

Johnny considered his options, it was late and he was tired, much too tired to make serious decisions. Part of the joy of maturing had taught him that making hard decisions when angry or over tired was a mistake. It was like playing with fire and he didn't like getting burned.

Sweat pored down across the brow and he grimaced as it dripped into his eyes. It was fitting how the sweat blurred his vision. He couldn't see clearly and he wasn't sure if he was thinking clearly. And the matter at hand wasn't something that he could just laugh off, though he wished it were otherwise.

The funny thing about relationships is that sometimes the most passionate love affair could be so complex. There are layers upon layers to be considered. When you are dealing with the person you love most in the world you can't help but find that your emotions play with you. Fear, anger, happiness, insecurity and more swirl through your mind. Navigating deeper waters with a broken compass is tricky.

Old Johnny had been down this road a time or two. And it was his past experience that empowered and paralyzed him. The beauty of allowing himself to love a woman so completely, to just accept her without reservation had helped to heal a part of him that he was unaware had been broken.

The past was finally behind him. The scars were just funny old stories to be told or just forgotten. They weren't going to hold him back any longer, at least that was what he had thought.

It had taken some doing to get to this point. It had taken some real effort to let go and give in to his feelings. And then life had done what he had feared it might, it had thrown him into a situation that frightened him in a different way than admitting that he was in love.

June had told him that she was having second thoughts. Oh lord, it couldn't be happening again, could it. Just when he let his guard down he was socked in the mouth and kicked in the belly. He remembered this feeling all too well. The metallic taste in his mouth and the strange tingling sensation in his fingers.

He took a deep breath and did another set of curls. That college kid who had been so broken hearted had latched onto Bogart's role as Rick in Casablanca. It wasn't entirely novel or unique, but he loved how Rick had taken ownership of his heartbreak and made it clear that it wouldn't define his life.

The reminiscing made him smile. That kid had been so naive and so innocent but had thought of himself as being so sophisticated. The mirror in front of Johnny made it clear that though it might feel like college was yesterday more than a couple of years had passed by. A little less hair and a few more lines on his face and so much life experience.

So what if the college kid could go for weeks upon end without sleep, he didn't know dick. That was the beauty about life experience, not to mention the endorphins released by a good workout.
It was true, June's head wasn't screwed on as tight as he'd like it to be, but it didn't have to be bad news.

He didn't have to be like Rick. He didn't have to play the noble hero who sends his great love off to help save the world. The world wasn't at war and June wasn't married to the guy who was going to help inspire Europe to fight the Nazis. In fact, Johnny was feeling so good he would have punched Victor Lazlo in the mouth and thrown his European ass out into the cold snow.

He might suffer from moments of uncertainty and angst, but old Johnny was clear on a few things. He loved June and he would do what he had to do to show her. He wasn't going to just roll over and give in because it was hard. He wasn't willing to let her just walk.

This was nothing more than the challenge that all great love stories face. If it came too easy they wouldn't really appreciate each other, now would they.

In that moment his plan became clear. He knew what he wanted and he was ready to make it happen. There wasn't a road map or guide to rely upon. But one of the many things that Johnny and June loved about their relationship was that it was so different from those of their past. He had always told her to hold onto his hand and he'd take care of her. This was no different.

All he had to do was convince her.

Cleaning The Garage

Sunday Night Play list- Here is an incomplete list of what is playing on my iTunes:

If You Could Read My Mind-Gordon Lightfoot
Shaking the Tree- Peter Gabriel
All I Want Is You- U2
With Or Without You- U2
Go Your Own Way- Fleetwood Mac
When We Dance- Sting
Crazy Train(Live) with Randy Rhoads- Ozzie Osbourne
Diamonds on the Soles- Paul Simon & Ladysmith Black Mambazo
Don't Stop Believin'-Journey

What a freaky, deaky day. I am not all that sure how to describe it so I'll just ramble on through it. If you live in L.A. you know that right now we are in the midst of a heatwave. It is after 10 and it has to be more than 80 outside.

When I wrote about being 25 I thought of a similar time to this one, weather wise. Back then the A/C in my apartment barely worked so I spent more than a couple of nights sleeping outdoors on a raft in our pool. There was something very peaceful about sleeping on the water. Every now and then I think about those days and wonder if I shouldn't live on a boat.

Anyway, found ourselves at a park to celebrate a nephew's birthday. It was an experience. There is a lot that I could share about it. I could mention that my nephew has a set of grandparents who need to get their collective asses kicked up, down and around the block. And then again for good measure.

The stories I could tell about these knuckleheads have taken upon legendary status for their place in incompetence, stupidity and unbelievable chutzpah. In fact it has taken great effort not to share them with you. If you think that your in laws are bad write me and I'll show you some who have worked over time to screw up their children and the relationships of all they come into contact with.

Ok, that is not entirely fair, but they don't know a thing about fair so why do I extend the courtesy. On the off chance that one day my nephew reads this let me say this; Uncle Jack tried very hard to help but due to my inability to use magic or the Jedi Mind Trick I couldn't do more. Sorry pal.

Back to things that interest me. The kids did me proud. They ran around in spite of the heat. Just like their old man used to do. However the old metal equipment has been removed so they cannot say that the slide felt like a frying pan. That is kind of nice. It gives me something like those crazy snow stories my father would tell. You know, the ones where he claims he walked through snow storms to reach school. Only it was 3 miles, uphill both directions and he carried my uncle and was never late.

Headed from the party to the always exciting Israel festival. It is different from the Walk we used to do. Anyone remember that, back in the day when we marched all over LA and ended up at Rancho Park.

Anyhoo, the festival was pretty nice. There was a ton of booths, some great food and precisely 1,287,986 Israelis. I got a good chuckle watching this American guy yell at a group of people about standing in line.

Of course this being the festival the freaking missionaries showed up and I gave them the usual treatment.

Missionary: Would you like a flyer?
Jack: I don't speak English?

Missionary: Atah Medeber Ivrit? (Do you speak Hebrew?)
Jack: Nope.

Missionary: You understood both languages?
Jack: Nah, that was an optical pollution. You know, that fire in cleveland is burning here.

Missionary: I know someone from cleveland.
Jack: Was his name Grover?

Missionary: Do you mind if I walk with you?
Jack: Doesn't seem like it matters, now does it.

Missionary: I wonder if you'd let me speak with you about something.
Jack: My wife once asked me that very same question.

Missionary: And what happened?
Jack: She ended up in Texas and I ended up here.

Missionary: You're the first person who has taken time to speak with me today.
Jack: Well, you're walking with me. Frankly if you were any closer it'd be considered sexual harassment.

Missionary: That is kind of funny. May I borrow it?
Jack: Only if you return it.

Missionary: You see, I can help you become a complete Jew.
Jack: I am not aware that I am missing anything. Got all of my teeth and two sets of encyclopedias.

Missionary: You are a smart guy, so you probably realize that they didn't teach you everything in school.
Jack: Actually I am not that nice. I pride myself on being exceptionally offensive to people who peddle bullshit to me. It is juvenile, but it helps keep me young.

Missionary: I am used to it. People act strongly when they hear the truth.
Jack: Ok, let's stop for a moment and talk.

Missionary: I am so glad, thank you for your time.
Jack: Let's see if you still feel that way in five minutes. Matter of fact, this is probably a mistake. Maybe I should go.

Missionary: It is ok.
Jack: The only reason it is ok is because I am keeping you from trying to engage in religious terror against someone else. It is truly sad that you have been captured by a cult and have been brainwashed.

Missionary: I can assure you that I am not brainwashed.
Jack: Good news for you, I am certified as a deprogrammer and let me tell you that every time we pull someone from a cult they always tell us that we're the ones with the problem.

Missionary: If you felt secure you wouldn't be so hostile.
Jack: No, if you felt secure you'd come right out and say who you were, what you were doing and you'd hand out pamphlets that were honest. But you don't because you can't. The reality is that deep down you know that you're a charlatan peddling lies. Put down the pamphlets and let go. You don't have to live on the Dark Side.

Missionary: I am not sure that this is getting us anywhere.
Jack: Probably not, but we'll never know because I just lost ten minutes of my life that I can never get back.

And with that I regained control of my senses and resumed walking. When I left several hours later I saw him engaged in a conversation with four excited Chabadniks. Ok, I can't really say that he was doing much talking, but he was trying. It was kind of fun to watch. I kept waiting for two of the guys to hold him down while the the other two forced him to wrap tefillin.

Which raises another comment. I like the Chabad guys, but you have to chill out on the tefillin. Just relax a moment. You guys found me ten at least ten times and each time all you asked was if I had wrapped tefillin today. I was half tempted to tell you that I did wrap tefillin, only it was during my breakfast in which I consumed a bacon cheeseburger, milkshake and a shrimp cocktail. Would have said it, but it was so ridiculous that I couldn't figure out how to do it with a straight face.

Eventually I found myself back home where I engaged in more masochism. I deigned to clean the garage. I didn't have time to do as much as I wanted, but I did manage to get a bit done. The biggest problem wasn't even my incredible fatigue, it was my incredible nostalgia and sick need for sentimentality.

As I tore through boxes I stumbled onto all sorts of stuff. The first had a bunch of baby toys. Don't ask me why I still have them, ok I can answer that. I can't quite part with them. I look at them and I see this little boy, this tiny little thing with my hands and feet. This little guy who used to live with me. This baby who became a toddler and is now a full fledged boy.

Some of his old toys just take me back. And don't get me started on the Thomas The Tank Engine stuff. He has long since stopped playing with them, but I am never giving those away. Thomas, Gordon and Percy will be with me until my grandchildren have need of them. In fact I just may see that my will says that it is only good as long as he is in possession of those trains and track. Sir Topham Hatt rocks!

Inside another box was more evidence of the babies that used to live here as well as grandparents who are no longer with us. Can't quite give those things up either.

So after a few hours of muss and fuss I managed to pull myself out of the garage and get back to the important task of blogging. Don't know if any of this is important to anyone, but perhaps in 2109 someone will look back and be amused by what their great, great, great, great, great grandpa Jack did one May.

A Few Videos

AM Radio Again



Summer

Cool Food Sculptures

Click here for the full set at Gawker.

Haveil Havailm #166: The MommyBlogger Edition

Morning folks. You can find the latest edition of HH at the following address:

Haveil Havailm #166: The MommyBlogger Edition

Go take a gander.

How Do Fighter Pilots Go To The Bathroom

Here at the Shack we are proud purveyors of news about all sorts of things, including bodily functions. We have a certain appreciation for the call of nature and have wondered about how pilots take care of this.

There is something somewhat comical about the image of the tough fighter pilot waltzing off his plane with a big stain in their flight suit. Anyway, CNN has the details about a potential solution to this problem.

Is it just me or does the Advanced Mission Extender Device sound like a sex toy.

"WASHINGTON (CNN) -- Where do fighter pilots traveling faster than the speed of sound go when they really need to "go"?

Until recently, the answer has been: into a bag.

But it's not a great solution. "Piddle packs" -- heavy-duty bags containing absorbent sponges -- have been blamed for at least two crashes over the years, and they're not always tidy.

A few years ago, after enduring years of complaints from pilots, the Air Force let it be known that it was looking for an answer.

A small medical equipment development company in Milton, Vermont answered the call.

"The DoD put out a list of projects they needed solutions for," said Mark Harvie, president of Omni Medical Solutions. "Bladder relief for pilots was one of the items on the list and we were looking for a new project," he said.

After four years of testing by the Vermont Air National Guard and the Air Force and about $5 million in government and private funds, AMXD is spelling relief for pilots aloft.

Under the old system, pilots routinely avoid liquids before taking off to prevent the unmentionable. But dehydration can make them more susceptible to the G-forces typically seen in fighter aircraft, Harvie said.

When nature's call becomes too pressing to ignore, a pilot has to fly and unbuckle the harness at the same time -- while using both hands to maneuver around in a seat to which he or she is virtually molded.

The aerobatic maneuver is even harder for female pilots.

On long or cold-weather flights, the amount of gear and clothing made the maneuver nearly impossible, and pilots would sometimes have no choice but to relieve themselves in their flight suits.

In the AMXD, a cup for a man and a pad for a woman is strategically placed before the pilot dons a flight suit.

An instructional DVD tells pilots: "When the time comes to urinate, unzip the flight suit, remove the hose.... The control unit will pump the urine from the cup to the collection bag, where it will be chemically gelled."

Remind me not to touch the gel. ;) BTW, if you are interested in reading more of the bathroom news you just can't live without you can click here or here.

It Is Going To Hurt When I Hit Bottom

The four year blogiversary is fast approaching. In a short time I am going to sit down and try and write a post that is appropriate for that day. I'll try to be eloquent and insightful. I'll do my best to be profound and to demonstrate that I have learned something.

Can't say if I'll succeed. Can't say if it will accomplish what I want or hope it will. We'll see.

Had a long talk with my dad today, kind of a state of the union for me. He sat and listened and gave me the same advice I have heard all of my entire life. "You can't do anything other than try your best and sometimes that won't be enough."

I hate to fall. I hate to fail. Took some risks and it looks like they may not materialize. Can't say for certain if they're going to fail, but it doesn't really look like they are going to succeed either.

It feels a bit like standing on a bed of nails. I can feel the sharp edge poking against my feet. It doesn't hurt, but it is clear that if I stumble I am going to find myself in a world of hurt. It will be more than a gentle prick.

I am more than excited. I am terribly frightened that this time I really blew it and at the same time I am intrigued. Is it ego, is it bravado that drives me. If I can pull this off it will be something special and if not, well it is going to really hurt when I fall. I can't keep the balancing act going much longer.

If you asked me to draw/paint a picture of what is happening in my head I'd tell you to picture a battlefield. I am surrounded by enemies. Covered in blood and gore all I can do is use my sword and my ability to try and survive. It doesn't look good. It doesn't look like anyone is going to come ride to my rescue.

Force of will is what is going to make the difference. If I want to survive it will be through sheer determination, too stubborn to lie down and die.

It sounds goofy, but it is an accurate representation. The challenge is to do my best not to be overwhelmed by it all. And right now that is an enormous task.

The Story of Two Souls (Replayed)

I wrote this post quite some time ago. It must have been picked up by someone because all of a sudden the traffic has spiked around it. Anyway, since it seems to be so popular I thought that I'd run it again.

This story has a beginning and a middle but there is yet to be an ending to it and in some ways that is most fitting because it is a story of love and not just any kind of love but one that is all consuming.

The love we speak of is the kind in which you are addicted to the other person, they are your air and your blood. They share your heart and own a piece of your soul. It is the best kind of love and the rarest to find outside of the love of a parent for their child.

Daniel and I had been friends for quite a few years when he first mentioned Anne to me. They were both married to other people and happily so, but somehow they had met online through a bulletin board they both posted upon.

At first it hadn't been anything more than a minor flirtation that slowly matured and developed into a deep friendship and then into a raging inferno of love and lust. It was not planned and it caught the two of them by surprise as it was clear that the feelings that they had were quite deep and very strong.

In some ways it was a very different and unique kind of love. Daniel and Anne were not strangers to love as they had both had past loves and of course they were both married to people that they thought were besheret. Neither one of them had gone to the chuppah with any thought or sense that one day they would view the work week the way that they had viewed their weekends for it was only at work that they had real freedom to write and speak with each other.

Their love was different because of how they had met. They were an online match, almost a cliche in the information age but it was an accurate description. So it was when they began communicating with each other they were able to avoid the pitfalls and challenges that sexual tension in men and women brings. There was no concern about whether he should try and kiss her or if she should let him. No worries about finding the perfect dress, shirt, jeans, heels, cologne or perfume. It was very freeing.

Anne and Daniel bypassed all that and concentrated on communicating with each other because words were all they had. And something interesting and amazing happened, there was complete honesty. It was the kind of honesty that you sometimes feel when you share your life story with the stranger who sits next to you on a long flight.

I remember well the day that Daniel told me about how happy he was and how scared. Somehow he had stumbled into or onto a relationship that he knew was different. Every time he spoke with Anne his heart sang and he knew that she was someone special.

Anne felt the same way. Daniel said that he felt foolish at how fast she figured it out and how at ease he felt when she told him she loved him. There was no awkward moment and no uncomfortable silence. He smiled and repeated it back to her. He loved her too and he apologized that he had to say it over the phone and that he wasn't able to show her in person his true feelings.

That moment changed their lives in a dramatic way because it called their current married status into question. It changed their relationship, molded it and forged it into something that had to be characterized as a torrid love affair. It was a burning love based upon friendship, respect, and believe it or not incredible desire.

When Daniel told Anne that he was going to find a way to come and see her he could feel her heart pounding and he knew that when they finally kissed he was going to have to hold her firmly because her knees would buckle. That kiss would be another defining moment.

Shortly thereafter they found a way to meet. It was only for a few hours but when they hugged each other it felt like they had always been together. Lovemaking was something that could not be described as anything but the merging of two souls in common cause and desire. They moved together as one and their goodbye was bittersweet. For though they knew that they would see each other again it felt as if a hole was being ripped out of their being. There was a huge gaping wound that bled and ached.

If there is such a thing as love at first sight they were the couple that would have experienced it. Later that week Anne received a card from Daniel that said:

"One kiss. One touch. One man and one woman and nothing will ever be the same. You know it and I know it and we live it."

She cried tears of joy. At her desk she looked out of the window and wept because she could imagine losing this man but wasn't sure how she could manage to get him. She had never wanted to be the other woman. It wasn't even a passing thought.

Until she met Daniel she had thought of herself as being very happy with her marriage and her first husband. Her first husband, that is how she thought of the man she lived with. He was the father of her children and someone she cared about but not someone she wanted sharing her bed any longer.

She was a good wife and a good mother. She doted on her children and she tried to keep the first husband happy in all ways, but every time she slept with him her heart cried out as if she was being violated.

For his part Daniel was in a similar situation. He felt trapped and experienced bouts of extreme sadness at the time he had lost and would not be able to spend with Anne. She was so good to him and did so much to make him happy but he never could completely forget about his own home life.

It was also good and he was also a good husband and a good father. But Daniel knew that it was only a matter of time before it was obvious to everyone that his heart had a new flame and it made him feel guilty.

He hadn't gone searching. He hadn't done anything to short circuit the marriage but somehow he had found someone new and he couldn't imagine living without her. Sometimes he would try and be practical and think logically about it. He'd think of walking away and telling her that he was sorry, that it was too late.

But every time he thought about it a dull pain in his head appeared and a sharp ache in his side. And he knew that one day they would leave their current spouses and go to each other. One day they would have to face the pain of ending one love affair and beginning a new one and though the thought of it pained him he was more upset by the guilt he felt at the excitement of starting a new life.

So there you have much of the story of of Daniel and Anne. It is tale with a beginning and a middle but the end is not yet written. Some loves can only be delayed but they can never be prevented.

I wrote a second part to this. You can find it here.

Saudis Tell Bush to Suck It

There are more professional headlines that I could use than "Saudis Tell Bush to Suck It" but they'd be lacking the edge that this one requires.

You see our fearless leader asked our so called ally to help us by pumping more oil. Let's take a look at the story, shall we.

RIYADH, Saudi Arabia (CNN) -- Saudi Arabia Friday rebuffed President Bush's request to immediately pump more oil to lower record prices, saying it does not see enough demand to increase production.

The Saudis said they would increase production if customers demanded it, Steven Hadley, Bush's national security adviser, said.

Ali al-Naimi, the Saudi oil minister, on Friday said the country had increased its production by 300,000 barrels a day on May 10 in response to customer requests.

Al-Naimi said the increased production would bring Saudi Arabia's daily production to 9.45 million barrels per day by June, according to the AP.

Bush is spending much of the day in closed-door meetings with King Abdullah, the Saudi ruler.

Friday's visit was Bush's second trip to the kingdom this year, coming as oil prices reached a new record high Friday of more than $127 a barrel. When he traveled to Riyadh in January, his request for the Saudis to pump more oil was also rejected."

I haven't any love for the Saudis for a whole host of reasons. I'll share a number of links with you that help illustrate why:

Saudi Scholar Spouts Holocaust Denial and Calls for Genocide on Hamas TV (Video)

The good old Saudis who punish victims of rape

Another Reason Why Saudi Arabia is A Problem

I Don't Trust The Saudis- Their Textbooks

In short they violate human rights, they fund terrorists and they promote intolerance for religious beliefs that are not based upon Islam. It galls me to no end that we help fund a racist, misogynist society that is working to undermine our own.

The People You Love Most

In the quiet of the night my son asked me to try and explain why boys fall in love with girls. He admitted that there are some girls that he likes playing with, but that is only because they play more like boys do.

I told him that love wasn't something that you could study or understand. It is not something to be analyzed. It is meant to be felt, to be experienced, to be lived. I wasn't surprised to see a look of confusion on his face. It is a bit more sophisticated than talking about superheroes.

And then he surprised me by asking if love could die. So I told him that a parent's love never dies and that he shouldn't be worried. He told me that wasn't it, he wanted to know if loved died because Jason's mom and dad had split up and so had Michael's.

I asked him what he thought and he said that he thought it could. I told him that I thought that he was right. And then he went back to asking me questions about boys and girls and how you know that you are in love with someone.

We talked about it for a bit and he whispered that love makes you act stupid. I whispered back, "you're right." And then we laughed.

I told him that you always need to let the people you love most know that you love them. I told him that when he was older we'd talk more about why boys and girls fall in love. He said ok, and then told me that he didn't think that girls could understand it because their brains are mushy.

I laughed pretty hard and told him that he'd find out that girls brains operate a little bit differently than ours do. Of course he asked me to give him an example. So I told him that one day a girl would ask him what he meant when he said something. I told him that she would spend time trying to understand the hows and whys of what we do.

He looked at me and said "really?" and I said "yes." And when he asked me to tell him more I elaborated a bit. I tried to explain to him that sometimes love did make you do silly things. And that sometimes when you really, really, really love someone you get nervous when you don't talk to them. And that sometimes when you are nervous it makes you angry because you are afraid.

And wouldn't you know it, that smart boy of mine totally got it. I was pretty impressed.

The conversation meandered a bit and then he told me again that he never wants to get married. I told him not to worry about it and he said ok. Then he told me that he might want to be a father so that I could be a grandpa.

I teased him and said that if he wanted to become a father he might have to kiss a girl. He said yuck and wanted to know if there was a way to just stick the baby stuff inside her without having to talk to her.

Since I heard his mother standing at the door I said that it was always better to do it that way and that talking to girls was a big waste of time. Ok, I almost got through that little speech without laughing, but I couldn't. He looked up at me and said "I know that you were only teasing."

There was a short pause and just as I thought he was going to ask another question I realized that he was asleep. Oy, I can only imagine what other conversations we have ahead of ourselves.

The Aftermath of my Birthday- A New Deal

"Action speaks louder than words
And I'm a man of great experience
I know you got another man
But I can love you better than him
Take my hand, don't be afraid
I'm gonna prove every word I say
I'm advertisin' love for free
So, you can place your ad with me"
Hard To Handle- Otis Redding

My name is Jack. I am 39 years-old but I think of myself as being much younger. I look at people who are around my age and sometimes I find myself thinking that they look old. Sometimes I think that they look middle aged. And now in the wake of my birthday I wonder if they say the same about me.

I can't say that I care all that much. I haven't any critics who are tougher on me, than me. When it comes to beating myself up it is fair to say that I have a golden glove. Most of the time I am good about it, but every now and then I struggle.

I struggle because at 39 I feel like I should have more to show for myself than I do. I feel like that I have fallen short of the mark. I look at this blog and see so many posts that I like. I think that in some areas I have really done a pretty good job and then I come across some stuff that makes me ill. What the hell was I thinking.

As I sit here writing I find myself censoring my words like I never have. The pure posts where I poured out my soul become fewer and fewer. Those moments where I was most honest are harder to share. In my frustration I find that I take refuge by not saying what I once would.

Deep connections have been broken. Some have been forged anew and are stronger than they ever were and some are forever broken. Some who read these words will falsely assume that I am referring to them and others will not even be aware. I won't tell them. I won't open the door.

As I muddle through this strange period of time I am quite conscious of the things that are happening around me. Change is in the air. The coming year is going to be filled with it. I fear and welcome change. The fear is simple. I can't help but wonder if the change is going to make things harder. Will it hurt, what will the consequences of those actions be.

At the same time I celebrate it. I remind myself that change is an opportunity. So I try to take a deep breath and just roll with things, but it is not always easy.

And now for a confession, I didn't expect to receive any gifts for my birthday and wasn't real pleased with those I did. I know, it is petty. It is juvenile, but this year it rubbed me the wrong way.

And now on to another post.

Graffiti- Good To See That He Has An Edumacation

Blog Fodder- How Do You Come Up With Material

A friend from the real world recently accosted me about my blog and asked if I ever run out of material to blog about. I laughed and said that it never happens, I can always find something to write about. Finding material is never hard.

The hard part is taking the raw material and making something meaningful out of it. If you post as often I am wont to do you will find that it takes a significant amount of work to produce a decent post. In the early days I had less concern about quality and just slapped stuff up there. It is a habit that I find less endearing so I have made a point of trying to more carefully manage things.

One of the advantages to having a blog like this one is that there is no topic that I cannot cover. I can literally write about anything and I do. As the seventeen long time readers know there are certain themes that continually crop up and I certainly go through cycles in which I focus more on specific areas.

Lately I have been spending more time pumping out pieces of Fragments of Fiction. I'll keep doing that until I am bored with it and I'll focus on something else.

Inspiration for the blog comes from all sorts of places. I look at what happens in my life and spend some time chronicling it. I take all sorts of news stories and comment on them. Standard resources include Fark, The NY Times, CNN and various other sources of news and information.

Some of my favorite posts come from experiences I have with people. The most popular posts tend to be those that touch upon some common human experience.

I am also inclined to look at the wacky, kind of out there post. Here in my corner of cyberspace it is not unusual for me to clean out the dusty shelves inside my noggin. Sometimes I find some real treasures and sometimes I discover that I am full of more crap than I realized.

Speaking of things that float through my mind, I have been playing around with creating a post about a mohel. Ever wonder what they are thinking about. From time to time I have. Do they ever find themselves distracted or bored by what they are doing. Does this make them want to take a shortcut.

Do any of them promote themselves with a goofy slogan like "Have scalpel will travel," or "Just a a little off the top."

I wonder.

Later on I'll come back and share more of what I wonder about.

I Am Going Get A Pair of Wings

BEX, Switzerland - A Swiss pilot strapped on a jet-powered wing and leaped from a plane Wednesday for the first public demonstration of the homemade device, turning figure eights and soaring high above the Alps.

Yves Rossy's performance in front of the world press capped five years of training and many more years of dreaming.

"This flight was absolutely excellent," the former fighter pilot and extreme sports enthusiast said after touching down on an airfield near the eastern shore of Lake Geneva.

Rossy, 48, had stepped out of the Swiss-built Pilatus Porter aircraft at 7,500 feet and unfolded the rigid eight-foot wings strapped to his back before jumping.

Passing from free fall to a gentle glide, Rossy then triggered four jet turbines and accelerated to 186 miles per hour, about 65 miles per hour faster than the typical falling skydiver. A plane that flew at some distance beside him measured his speed.

Rossy's website is here.

Seal Tries Sex with Penguin

Found this story on Live Science and couldn't help but wonder if the seal was half blind.

"A seal has been caught on camera trying to have sex with a penguin.

This seems to be the first known example of a sexual escapade between a mammal and another kind of vertebrate such as a bird, reptile or fish, "although some mammals are known to have attempted sexual relief with inanimate — including dead things — objects," said researcher Nico de Bruyn, a mammal ecologist at the University of Pretoria in South Africa.

One summer morning, scientists observing elephant seals on a beach on Marion Island near the Antarctic spotted a young male Antarctic fur seal subduing a king penguin.

"At first we thought it was hunting the penguin, but then it became clear that his intentions were rather more amorous," de Bruyn recalled today via email.

The roughly 240-pound seal subdued the 30-pound adult penguin by lying on it. The hapless bird of unknown sex struggled, rapidly flapping its flippers and attempting to stand and flee, without luck.

The seal then alternated between resting on the penguin and thrusting its pelvis at the bird in vain attempts to insert its penis for 45 minutes. Natural, unsuccessful sexual escapades by this variety of seal with members of its own species may last as long as this penguin assault did, "but yes, it is quite a long time and thus unusual," de Bruyn told LiveScience."

I Can't Stop The Bleeding

The story sort of continues. I am pulling pieces from here. One day I'll find a way to weave it all together, but for now...

I still believe in love, even though you don't love me anymore. I still believe in the dream. I still believe that I can reach your heart. I know that I can touch you, hold you, fill up the empty places. All I need is the chance.

The day you left I sat apart and alone and I have lived my life like that ever since. It is my choice. It is my decision. I sit in the dark and stare off into nothingness wondering if the door will open and I'll find you there.

It is a dream that I have often. Alone in the dark I stare and wonder what I did to deserve such pain. I beat myself up wondering why. It is easier to blame myself and to keep you on your pedestal.

After a time the empty place in my heart feels normal as does the numb spot where my soul once lay. Do you remember the shirt you left at my place? I didn't wash it because it smelled like you. For a while I would bury my face in it, smell you and forget that you weren't really here.

For a while it helped me pretend that I wasn't just a shell of a person and that once I used to know how to smile. Sometimes I look at the pictures of who we were and I am taken back to that moment. The sad part is that whatever moment I think of is one in which we are smiling and laughing.

I know that we had moments in which we didn't get along. I know that we fought, but somehow those moments are clouded and hard to remember. It is just foolishness to be like this. I tell myself that you weren't that special and that you had lots of faults. I make lists of everything you did that pissed me off. I try to convince myself that you were ordinary, plain and unworthy of the praise I shower upon you.

I fail.

The water in the shower is icy cold. My skin pruned and wrinkled and my teeth are chattering. When I first got in the heat scalded my back, but I forced myself to endure it. Eventually I found myself curled up in a ball on the floor, unable to move. I can't tell you how long I have been there.

Sleep is not an escape. My mind provides no refuge. It works overtime. Again and again I have dreams that leave me unsettled. You are in trouble. You need me. You cry out for me. I fight to reach you, but I am always too late. Whenever I find you there is nothing that I can do to save you. I can't stop the bleeding.

The sun shines but I just can't feel the heat. It doesn't matter what the forecast says, my sky is cloudy and gray. I feel like I am covered in ash. A leper who is barely tolerated.

Rocket hits Ashkelon Shopping Mall

Ynet reports:

"Several Palestinian terror groups claim sole responsibility for launching of medium-range Grad rocket against crowded shopping mall in 'message' to Israel as foreign dignitaries gather in Jerusalem, including US President Bush. Paramedics race to free wounded shoppers trapped under rubble while IDF investigates why alert sirens failed to sound."

This calls for a serious response that is more than just a verbal condemnation. Look at what Hamas says:

Senior Hamas member Mahmoud al-Zahar spoke Wednesday at a Gaza Strip event marking the 60th anniversary of the Nakba – the anniversary of the 1948 events which led to the induction of the State of Israel – and promised his listeners that "the right of return is closer than ever."

The events of the Gaza pullout and the Second Lebanon War, he added, proved that the Israeli military is not beyond defeat.

"The Palestinians and the Arabs have crushed the Jews' assumption of supremacy… The Zionist legend of invincibility has been destroyed.

"Now more than ever I tell you – we will never recognize Israel… We will form the Palestinian state on all of Palestine's territories and the sun of liberty will burn the Zionists. To them I say – you will lose. You will leave and we will keep hounding you. The blood of our slain sons will haunt you forever," he said."

Fine. Let him be the recipient of a visit from an Apache. It is time rain fire down upon Gaza. They're not open to diplomacy. For right now Israel needs to pull back and say that we cannot make peace with these people, but we can re-establish deterrence.

Let them reap the just rewards of their actions. Right now they act with impunity. Israel must remove that fearlessness and remind them of what the consequences are for this behavior.

So True

Courtesy of PHD comics.

Sex On The Side

This was kind of interesting:

"You or someone you know is having an affair. We know, it sounds surprising, shocking even, but apparently that is the case. Cookie Magazine and "AOL Body" did a survey on the subject and 30,000 people responded. As far as surveys go, that is a big number, and it's even bigger when you consider that their questions were aimed solely at married women with children. Yep, lots of mommies are getting action on the side.

The survey, "Sex and the American Mom," revealed that 34% of these married moms is in the midst of, or has already had, an affair. Think of three married moms you know and ask yourself, "Which one is cheating?" We tried this and Colleen came up empty. Taylor could think of one or two, but not one out of three--that number seems staggering. Are we just naïve? In the dark? Out of touch? Which of our friends has managed to stray without anyone knowing (and when do they find the time and where they hell do they go?)?

Another somewhat mind-blowing result of this survey was that 77% of the respondents said they want more sex. That's more than three quarters of the 30,000 women asked who said they aren't getting enough. Again, we ask, who are these people? And are we to conclude that so many stray because they are not sexually satisfied?"

You can find the full story here.

Playing With Scammers

This was kind of fun.

Old Posts that I stumbled Onto

Random Thoughts For a Tuesday Evening

What I See- Part One

A Secret For My Children

A Eulogy for Myself

The Ginsu Knife

Teaching Children Not To Quit

Understanding the Media

Loveless Marriage Part 2

This part two of A Loveless Marriage. You can read the original post here. BTW, for those few people who know me and are curious who is this about, I am not going to tell you. I have intentionally adjusted things so that you won't be sure who it is about. If he/she wants you to know, they'll tell you.

I think that one of the most horrific events I have ever been to was to D's funeral. If you are lucky you will never have to see parents bury their child. I remember more from that summer and that day than I mention. The look of shock and horror on his parent's faces was something that I won't forget.

And I won't forget our tears either. I say our tears because there was a group of us there who were tight. We had basically grown up together and in many ways losing D was like losing a brother.

When the phone rang and you told me your story I sat and listened. I tried to be quiet so that you could get it out. I didn't want to offer any suggestions on what to do or how to fix it, at least not until I was sure that you were ready and interested.

What I didn't share during that first phone call was a memory from D's funeral. If you recall we buried him. I couldn't stand the idea that some stranger would do that. They didn't know him. They didn't love him. It didn't matter how sensitive or nice they were, they would never understand the profound loss we suffered

It was the middle of summer and we were shoveling under a hot sun, in black suits. I was drenched in sweat. As I took a break from shoveling you came and stood next to me. For a moment we said nothing and then you hugged me. You buried your face in my chest and sobbed. My own tears fell on your head. It was a moment when n o t h i n g m a d e s e n s e.

I remember the shrieks of pain and sorrow. I remember holding onto his grandfather's jacket as he stood graveside, scared that he would slip and fall into the grave, or drop dead on the spot. I felt angry. I felt sad. I empty. At times I was numb.

Fast forward to the present and listening to your recitation of how your marriage was failing. You know that I don't have an opinion about that. I offer no judgment on whether you married the right guy. I don' t know him well enough. He seemed nice enough, but nice enough isn't the same as being the right one.

And when push comes to shove I believe in the right one. I don't think that relationships last without work. I don't believe that you and your spouse stay the same. I change. You change. We change. Sometimes we grow together and sometimes we grow apart.

My opinion about a lasting relationship hasn't changed. Some relationships will not last. It is not always nice. It is not always fair. It is life. I hate saying things like that, they sound so trite.

You told me that you think that you have to survive within the marriage until the children go to college. I don't think that you can plan that far in advance. Five years ago you never would have believed that you could be in this place.

He may not be a monster. He may not be an addict, a gambler or have any relationship destroying vices either, but the cracks in the dam started a long time ago. You don't wake up and realize that you don't love him anymore without there being more to the story. It didn't happen overnight.

It is not an indictment of you or him. It is not a comment on what kind of wife, mother, husband, father you are. It simply is what is.

If there were no children you'd be out and you know it. The goal of protecting them is the right thing to do, but let's be real about it. Don't martyr yourself to an unhappy decade just to try and spare them.

I say that out of love and concern for you and them. You won't make it. Resentment will build and things will deteriorate, or so I suspect.

The question to me is not about surviving until the kids are older. The question is what are you going to do now. What are you going to do this month, this summer, this fall, this winter, this year. What is your plan.

The angst you feel is because you haven't got a plan. You don't know what you are doing and you don't do well without one.

My best advice is to figure out a short term plan and then re-evaluate later on. Break it up into chunks and then look back.

Remember that feeling we had at D's funeral. We weren't even 30. Things can happen. Car accidents, cancer, plane crashes, lions and tigers and bears, oh my. Don't suffer through a decade and hope that you'll find happiness down the road. Life is too uncertain, too fragile.

Don't forget that your friends love you. Whatever direction you choose we'll be there to laugh or cry with you. Try not to sing, because then we will cry. ;) Just kidding.

And don't forget that this post will self destruct in 30 seconds. ;) You know how to find me.

My Fans Yell The Same Thing

William Shatner said that having sex with fans was really hard because they always wanted him to beam them up.

In his new autobiography, Up Till Now, Shatner explains how women would pretend they were being "beamed up" by the Starship Enterprise commander, shrieking: "So, this is what it's like to be in bed with Captain Kirk!"
He writes: "You can't imagine how much of a downer that is in every sense of the word."

Coming Soon

Stay tuned to this bat channel for - Loveless Marriage Part 2 and more Johnny and June.

Whither Goes The Blog

Whither Goes The Blog. It is not the most original title for a post. I might have even used it before, but I just don't feel like checking. That is sloppy blogging, but I can live with it.

Lately I have been mulling over what to do with this place. I have had the same template in place for quite some time and it is starting to look a bit worn out. I haven't decided yet if I am going to make any sort of dramatic changes to it, but I am considering it.

Sometimes I can be impulsive. Sometimes I can jump into things, the old look before you leap syndrome. It is not always a bad trait. There comes a time for being bold or maybe that is just my rationalizing things.

In a couple of weeks I am going to celebrate my fourth blogiversary. It is hard to believe that almost four years have gone by. I don't want to cannibalize that post so I won't spend too much time talking about this now, but it really does surprise me that I am still doing this.

When I began I had no idea how much I would enjoy blogging nor how it would serve as a diary of my life.

Lately I have spent more time using it as a place to engage in more creative writing and I expect that I might continue down this path for a while. Part of the fun of doing this is watching the evolution as it comes down the pike.

Stick around, you just might enjoy the ride.

A Big Girl Bed

As always Mother's Day is an endurance contest. It is an all day affair that makes me want to tear my hair out. Given the choice I'd ban the whole day and forget that it ever existed. I won't bore you with the story of the reasons why, suffice it to say that I have had enough of it.

What I really want to record for the sake of posterity is the utter joy exhibited by my daughter yesterday afternoon. Her happiness was the result of her finally receiving her big girl bed. The little girl with the long dark curls and the dark piercing eyes couldn't stop hugging and kissing me, all because I took down the crib and replaced it with a bed.

To be clear, the crib had long since been converted into a day bed. She is 3.75 now and ever so excited at the prospect of turning four, although if you ask her she may just tell you that she is seven. She knows exactly how old she is, but she also knows that her brother hates it when she claims to be his age.

It was hard taking the crib down. The actual work wasn't difficult. I put that sucker together 7.5 years ago, took it apart when we moved and reassembled it a time or two since. But this time was different. This time felt a bit more final, like I was moving into a new stage of life.

I remember as a kid being desperate to get older. I wanted so much to do so many things that were always just out of my reach. They were the usual things, a later bedtime, a driver's license, my own apartment, the chance to vote, the ability to buy alcohol etc.

In May of 1994 I was a 25 year-old bachelor. I lived in this great apartment in Encino. It was a one bedroom off of Ventura Boulevard that was within walking distance of a supermarket, restaurants, a coffee shops and all sorts of cool stuff.

The apartment complex was a bit of a dump, but the one bedroom I lived in was large and it was mine. I had a serious girlfriend, ok she was serious and interested in making future plans. I was serious about a lot of things, but a future wasn't something that I wanted to talk about.

I remember lying in bed one morning and being lectured about how I needed to plan for the future and that one day I might have children, even a daughter or two and how they'd need me to look out for them. Since this is a family blog I won't give you all of the details of my response, but suffice it to say that big girl bed was involved in the discussion. Use your imagination.

Later that day I lay on a raft in the swimming pool and tried to imagine what it would be like to be a father. It was something that I very much wanted to do, but I don't think that my daydreams came all that close to reality. Certainly I didn't understand just how much pleasure I would take in watching my baby girl tell everyone about her big girl bed with the Dora The Explorer sheets.

What I do know for certain is that at 25 it felt like I had an eternity of life in front of me. I had all the time in the world and now fourteen years later I alternate between feeling like that time is running out and that there is plenty left.

I suppose what I am really saying is that taking down the crib was hard. Have I really reached the point in my life where I can say that I am done making babies and all I have left to do is to raise them. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing more important than raising the children, and not much that is as fun as making them.. Oops, forgot the whole family blog thing.

Anyway, that dark haired beauty has nothing but praise for me and I can't help but eat it up. This morning she woke up and ran to find me to tell me how she slept gooder because she had a big girl bed. It made me feel even gooder to hear it.

Now if you'll excuse me I think that I need to go watch her sleep for a moment or two.

Some Notes for Fragments of Fiction May 2008

I still believe in love, even though you don't love me anymore. I still believe in the dream. I still believe that I can reach your heart. I know that I can touch you, hold you, fill up the empty places. All I need is the chance.

The day you left I sat apart and alone and I have lived my life like that ever since. It is my choice. It is my decision. I sit in the dark and stare off into nothingness wondering if the door will open and I'll find you there.

It is a dream that I have often. Alone in the dark I stare and wonder what I did to deserve such pain. I beat myself up wondering why. It is easier to blame myself and to keep you on your pedestal.

After a time the empty place in my heart feels normal as does the numb spot where my soul once lay. Do you remember the shirt you left at my place? I didn't wash it because it smelled like you. For a while I would bury my face in it, smell you and forget that you weren't really here.

For a while it helped me pretend that I wasn't just a shell of a person and that once I used to know how to smile.

She Saved 2,500 Children

Stories like this remind us that there are many, many good people in the world.

Irena Sendler, a Polish woman who saved 2,500 Jewish children from the Warsaw Ghetto during the Nazi occupation in World War II, died Monday morning in a Warsaw hospital at the age of 98, her daughter Janina Zgrzembska confirmed.

Sendler had worked with Warsaw's poor Jewish families prior to the war. After Nazi Germany's invasion of Poland in 1939, she took grave risks to help Polish Jews trapped by the Nazis in the Warsaw Ghetto.

At the end of 1942, Sendler joined the Zegota anti-Nazi resistance movement of Poles helping Jews. It was then that she began the extremely difficult task of smuggling Jewish infants and children out of the ghetto and escaping an almost-certain death.

Her team of some 20 people saved 2,500 children between October 1940 and April 1943, when the Nazis burned the ghetto, shooting the residents or sending them to death camps.

Music That Makes Me Feel

Some of these songs really touch me. Sometimes it is the lyrics, sometimes it is the beat, sometimes it is both. Here is an incomplete list of songs that I enjoy.

Prodigal Blues- Billy Idol
Subterranean Homesick Blues- Bob Dylan
Young Turks- Rod Stewart
Gone Away- The Offspring
What's Going On- Marvin Gaye
Nobody's fault but Mine- Led Zeppelin
Love Ain't for Keepin- The Who
If You Could Read My Mind- Gordon Lightfoot
The Fire Inside- Bob Seger
Cry- Faith Hill
Mustang Sally- Wilson Pickett
You're Gonna Miss This- Trace Adkins
Day After Day-Badfinger
The Adventure-Angels & Airwaves
Get Back- The Beatles
Have you ever seen the rain?-CCR

Time Is My Enemy & My Ally

The days sometimes blur together. One leads into the next and the next and the next and I find that a week, a month, a year or a decade has passed me by. It is not a preferred feeling, this floating through life. But it is not fair or right to say that it is my condition either.

I do try to make sure that I live all of my days. That is not an exaggeration, not hyperbole. I want to LIVE my life and not watch it pass me by. So I do what I can to see that it is as fulfilling as can be. When I die I want to feel like I did all that I could to enjoy, learn and grow.

That leads to the point, er, title of the post time is my enemy and my ally. I go to bed and I wake up with the same thoughts on my mind. I can be quite singular of purpose. Time passes and I see the fruits of my labors and the failures.

As I deal with the myriad challenges presented to me I look out my window and consider the best way to handle them. Sometimes it feels overwhelming. Sometimes I feel this burning desire to get away, to go to a place where I am just Jack.

Not Jack the father, not the Jack the husband, not Jack the anything. I just want to be Jack, at least for a moment or two. Don't get me wrong, there is much in my life to be thankful for, to be grateful for. There are people who have it much worse than I do, but that doesn't make it any easier for me.

I have said it a million times. The homeless guy on the corner is living a tragic life, but that doesn't mean that it is any easier for me to struggle with my own challenges. And there are plenty of days where it is a struggle.

Some days it feels like the clock is stopped. Minutes feel like hours and there is a ringing sensation in my ears. It is almost as if there is a large metal pot over my head and some jackass is beating upon it with a spoon.

It is not easy to look at yourself and admit that you have failed at some things. Even when I remember that failure is just another opportunity, it hurts. But I am too stubborn to not continue so I plod on.

Had a long talk with G today. Hard to believe that he has been a part of my life for so many years, but reassuring. The man is steady. Everyone should have a friend like G.

HH #165 Happy 60th Birthday Israel

Convergence. That is the word that comes to mind. Too many events, too many holidays, not to mention my 39th birthday. Every time I look in the mirror I am shocked that I don't see some 20 year-old looking back at me.

A couple more notes before we get into the meat of the carnival. If you are in need of an idea for a Mother's Day Gift I have a few ideas.

1) Purchase one of the albums listed here.
2) If your mother is like this woman you might buy her an Emily Post book.
3) One of the inventions in this post might be right for your mom.
4) More stuff you just can(not) live without.

That should do it for now. If I come up with anything else I'll let you know. Be sure to check back throughout the day as I will continue to update this.

Also, it would be greatly appreciated if you could help promote HH by mentioning it on your blogs. And now on to the show:

Israel

I am sorry that I missed out on the big barbecue at The Pina Chama. JTown Underground offered Happy 60th BBQ!! Speaking of barbecues Benji writes that his body is now 50% hamburger.

From Meryl On Israel’s 60th birthday: Optimism.

More birthday wishes can be found with Chris Matthews Wishes Israel a Happy Anniversary.

An exhilirating pictoral post from Mevaseret Zion on Israel's 60th. Daled Amos has a cool Repost For Yom Ha'Atzmaut: Israel Meme Roundup.

Crossing The Rubicon provided Israel at 60.

The Waffle King is Unapologetically Zionist. The Rebbetzin's Husband says I am TOO a Zionist!

EOZ suggests that you read the Daily Alert's collection of articles.

Tzipiyah shared Remember, today: Yom HaSho'ah, Yom HaZikaron, Yom Ha'Atzma'utּ.

On The Face provided Israel at 60: Zeh Mah Yesh. Sara K shared Israel at 60 - An Oleh's Perspective.

Ima on and off The Bima has a list of 13 Things I Love About Israel. Shira asks Would you Know a Miracle.

Tikkun Olam says *Yom Ha'atzma'ut ha-60 Sameach!

At Oleh Musings they are All Blue and White. Oleh Girl presents Ya la la la, Happy 60th, Israel!!!

Aussie Dave shared Reasons to Love Israel #467. Baila doesn't have 467 reasons, instead she shared As Promised.....Sixty Things I Love About Living in Israel and 22,437.

DutchBlog shared Independence Day 2008 in Haifa. One Jerusalem shared Israel@60 In Pictures.

Israpundit offered PRIME MINISTER HARPER’S SPEECH FOR ISRAEL’S 60th.

Gilly discussed celebrating from afar in Celebrating 60.

Ask Batya how Shiloh Celebrates Sixty!

The Sephardic Perspective provided Sephardic Contributions to the Development of the State of Israel.

This falls into the category of better late than never How to Celebrate Yom Ha'atzmaut (Even If You're Not in Israel).

You can read one bloggers thoughts about Yom Ha-atzma’ut at Jewschool. From Elms In The Yard you can read When Israel Was Four.

On my blog I offered Audio fragments from Entebbe Operation Released.

Fiery Spirited Zionist shared The Real Story of Israel's Founding. Freedom's Cost offered Realpolitik and Israel’s 60th

Tel Chai Nation says Recently
opened archives show Arabs left Israel in 1940s and were not driven out.

Jewneric has Musings on Yom Ha’Atzmaut.

From Daled Amos More Palestinians Are Killed Than Israelis--But Look Behind The Numbers.

Esser Agaroth provided A Revolutionary Idea: "Hashemcracy"

Smooth shared A Reality Check as Israel Turns 60 and It's Not Apartheid.

Jewlicious blogged about iFest @ UCI.

Seraphic Secret shared 1948, Israel, the Palestinians: The True Story. Frume Sarah contributed It’s Not Your Decision!

From Esser Agaroth we have How The YeSh"A Council Thugs Celebrated Israeli Independence Day and Did I Stand For The Siren?

Bookworm shared A magnificent article about Israel.

It's Almost Supernatural says Not Everyone is Celebrating Israel's 60th.

DovBear asks Is Israel a failure?

From the IRIS blog Peres: I Never Imagined Qassams After Disengagement.

Jihadwatch shared Israeli Leftist discovers jihad.

Mom In Israel has tips for Navigating an Israeli Supermarket. Soccer Dad has The necessary Jewish state.

Gila has Time. Some people should never be forgotten Eli Cohen The Hero of the Six-Day War.

Heichal HaNegina shared fascinating anecdotes about a Chassidic Rebbe's passionate love of the Land of Israel.

This Normal Life asks What Would Be The Worst Thing?

Treppenwitz asked Which Came First - Terrorism or "Occupation"?

The Right Truth shared YOM HA'ATZMAOUT MARKED BY PROTESTS.

Lizrael has A Yom HaZicaron message or two and so does Lion of Zion. Life in Israel has a Yom Ha'Zikaron (video).

Leora presents Yom HaZikaron in Edison, NJ.

At The Aliyah Blog you can read Receiving a US-based Salary in Israel, Part II: Salaried Employee.

Someone get this guy a waffle. Or maybe you should just read You Know You're Israeli When...

Here are more thoughts on being Israeli.

My Right Word shared the story of Shmuel Katz z"l.

Don't forget to check out 60 Bloggers and all of their special Israel coverage. Yid with Lid has his own carnival about Israel too.

Judaism

Steg discussed The Conversion Dilemma. Ezzie offered Why Be Jewish. Cross Currents says Not Everything is Bleak.

Sometimes Peace Is the Problem. Imshin offered More dossi stuff.

Friar Yid has Shoah Thoughts. At The Velveteen Rabbi you can enjoy This week's portion: Shall (Emor).

You might want to peruse Alto Artist's post, 669. Holiness. Here in HP told the story of Ilana Shafir, artist, survivor.

A Simple Jew continues his Q&A sessions with the following post: Question & Answer With Rabbi Dovid Sears - The Spiritual Supermarket Mentality.

The Rebbetzin's Husband blogged Rashi's Daughters: Joheved - Myths and Facts, Part I.

Mottel has a four part series Pesach in Germany I, Pesach in Germany II, Pesach in Germany III -Dachau and Pesach in Germany IV -In the Land of the Lightstones.

At Hirhurim you can read Why Be Jewish? ADDeRabbi discussed Jewish Commemorations on Specific Days of the Week.

Tzipporah wrote Fences and Fields - A Mother's Day Drasha. Shira explains what disturbs her at Not my favorite minhag (custom).

Frum Satire's post is explosive just read I like guns- and I think every Jew should own one!

At JewsbyChoice you can read the story of First Abayudaya Ugandan to Become a Rabbi.

Writes Like She talks provided Guess I Missed It Department: NYT ad by Evangelicals urges Jews to convert.

Rabbi Sedley shared Behar Summary. Bangitout has the latest in Running Skirts.

Dafnotes has Once a Nazir; Always a Nazir. Jewish Literary Review has a review of A graphic
novel about Algerian-Jewish life.

Politics/World

Dry Bones has Hezbollah at War. From EOZ we have Saudis give UK universities $30m for Islamic studies.

Yid With Lid provides his post on Why Jews MUST NOT Vote for Barack OBAMA.

Omri shared Swiss Diplomats Bankrolling Iranian Economy: Why's Israel So Pissed Off At Us?

Bookworm shared What I’ll be reading today. Samson Blinded says Never again, and again, and again.

Atlas Shrugs discussed Age Of Terror 1998 U.S. Embassy bombings Al Qaeda. From Boker Tov Boulder How 'bout ... NOT?

Attila has the post of the day, er should I say the visitor of the day.

Solomonia has Daniel Pipes and Yaron Brook on the Threat of Totalitarian Islam (Video) and Mock 'Checkpoint' on the UC Berkley Campus.

Gateway Pundit shared Sick!... Obama's Letter to Lebanon Echoes Hezbollah Talking Points and Obama Cans Advisor For Holding Talks With Hamas Terrorists.

Israel Matzav said 'European diplomats' blame Israel for Hezbullah victory and If the US and Israel have elections at the same time.

BTW, you might want to see what the Sandmonkey has got to say. He is an interesting cat, check out The Beirut Media dance.

SoccerDad has the results with Council speak 05/10/08. Joshuapundit suggests the following Worth Reading - Short Takes, 5/09/08.
Personal/Other/Miscellaneous

Ask TherapyDoc about When CNN links to you. Mommy is going meshugah says NOW who needs a Hebrew Tutor????

Blue Collar Jew writes The Community Where I Live is Appalachia.

Batya shared For Those Who Still Live. Someone spent too much time watching Grease, Summer Nights.

From Schvach Look What I Got in the Mail. NY's Funniest Rabbi is having technical difficulties, HaRachaman Hu Yanchileinu.

IJN has a A mother's day rant.

The title of this blog and the post I linked to made me laugh. Ima Shalom proudly presents Top ten reasons to get punched in the face.

Here at my blog one of the most widely read posts of the last week is A Loveless Marriage.

That concludes this edition. Submit your blog article to the next edition of haveil havalim using our carnival submission form. Past posts and future hosts can be found on our blog carnival index page.

Want to host or have questions? Email me at talktojacknow at sbcglobal dot net

Technorati tags: haveil havalim, blog carnival.

Pope: Sex Can Be Like a Drug

It seems a little strange to hear a man who has never had sex discuss it.

More about Johnny

Johnny tried to live a life of few regrets. In his head he was a simple man who had simple pleasures. His happiness wasn't contingent upon anyone or anything other than himself. If you asked him to list those things he could readily rattle off a list of five or six things

Unfortunately our dear Johnny was fooling himself. He was a more complex individual than he gave himself credit for and his needs exceeded that which he claimed. So you might ask yourself what Johnny fooled himself about and why he would do such a thing.

If you had the ability to look inside Johnny's head, if you could explore the archives of his memories you'd see a time when he had been in love. In fact you could find a couple instances of love. Standing right alongside those moments were a couple of cases of heartbreak.

Johnny's major problem stemmed from the scars left over from having his heart shredded into tiny pieces. In an effort to protect himself he had taken his feelings and stuffed them into a safety deposit box and then thrown it all into the ocean. Maybe it hadn't been a conscious decision, but it really didn't matter. The choice had been made and Johnny had given up on ever really feeling again.

Over time the garden that had once grown around his heart grew fallow and thick with weeds. Where there had been life and hope was a dusty ruin.

Time passed. Life continued and Johnny forgot about the things that had hurt him. Gradually his grip upon his feelings was loosened and a little sunlight was shed upon the dark. At first it was nothing more than a sliver and it might have remained that way for quite some time, were it not for June.

When June walked into Johnny's life she forced open the door and made him incredibly happy. For lack of a better term it brought Johnny's heart out of the catatonic state it had been in and nothing was the same.

While it would not be an exaggeration to say that June brought joy back into Johnny's life she brought along an unintended and uninvited guest, fear. In spite of the overwhelming happiness he couldn't help but remember the pain of the past and he feared its touch.

It wasn't completely rational, or was it entirely irrational. He remembered the pain and the grief of past loss the same way a child remembers burning their finger on a hot stove.

Johnny tried to walk the line between the two feelings. He probably should have told June about his fear and had he really understood his feelings he might have.

But the thing about people is that sometimes they don't really understand why they feel a certain way. Sometimes that lack of understanding is based upon a subconscious choice and sometimes it is something else.

The Duggar Family Revisited

She is pregnant with her 18th child. Yes ladies and gentlemen, the Duggars are back.
We first encountered The Duggar Family in the following Posts:

Mom delivers 16th child, thinking of more

Should Childbirth Be Legislated

Here is a little bit of information from the MSNBC story I linked to in the lead.

"With two sets of twins, Michelle has gone through 15 pregnancies that ended in 13 natural deliveries and two Caesarean sections.

Both Michelle and Jim Bob — a former state legislator who served in the Arkansas House of Representatives — are real estate agents. They claim their family is debt-free, with the entire bunch helping to build their 7,000-square-foot home in Tontitown. And they are enriched by a devout faith in their religion.

The Duggars are followers of the evangelical Christian movement called Quiverful, which teaches that children are God’s blessing and that husbands and wives should happily welcome every child they are given. In fact, the Duggars' Web site, duggarfamily.com, quotes “Children are a heritage of the Lord” from verse 3 of the 123rd Psalm.

“We just let the Lord decide,” Jim Bob told Vieira.

“They are such a gift and we’re enjoying them so much,” Michelle added. “We would love more, and the power of the Lord took our faith to give us another one.”

The Duggars married in 1984, when Michelle was 17 and Jim Bob was 19. They held off on having kids for four years before Michelle ceased taking birth control pills to have their first child. After Joshua was born in 1988, Michelle returned to birth control but wound up getting pregnant anyway. Unfortunately, she suffered a miscarriage, which the couple attributed to use of the pill.

Michelle and Jim Bob decided to pray for as many children as God would give them. Within a year, Michelle was pregnant with the first of their two sets of twins.

Their large number of offspring has meant other large numbers for the Duggars. Michelle has been pregnant for 135 months of her life, with an average of 18 months between births. The family estimates it has used 90,000 diapers and launders 200 loads of clothes each month in a row of industrial-size washers and dryers.

Even though they go through three loaves of bread per day, they claim to feed their family for less than $2,000 a month. Transportation is facilitated by nine vehicles, led by a 21-passenger bus. They estimate that all members of the family have combined to work approximately 39,000 hours on their home.Each child learns to play both violin and piano. And for what it’s worth, when child No. 18 arrives, they’ll have enough kids to field two baseball teams.

Most importantly, there is a unique dedication to serve the greater good of the home and family. An older child will take on the responsibility of a younger sibling throughout the day. The children help prepare meals and keep to a steady home-schooling schedule. Group studies include materials from Advanced Training Institute International, a Bible-based education program for families.

I don't really want to see childbirth legislated, there are distinct limits to government involvement, but there are commonsense issues as well.

To me the most important question of all is what kind of attention the children receive from their parents. I find it difficult to believe that these children receive the time they deserve from their parents. There is such a thing as being spread too thin.

Having the ability to do something is not license nor inspiration to do it.

I wonder about the finances. Maybe they're very lucky and able to afford this many kids, but it still makes me wonder about how many things they have to sacrifice to do so. Some of those are personal choices, but still..

And I wonder about the burden placed upon the older siblings. I believe that all family members should help out. It makes perfect sense, but I am guessing that the older kids have taken on more child rearing roles here than they should have to.

We're only children for a short time of our lives. Kids should have the opportunity to be kids.

What do you think?

Julio Franco Is Out of baseball

ESPN has an interesting story about Julio Franco's retirement. Here is an excerpt.

Consider that Julio Franco made his major league debut with the Philadelphia Phillies in 1982. Then consider …

• When Franco made his major league debut, Manny Mota was playing for the Dodgers. Mota is now 70 years old.

• A sampling of other players still active in 1982: Gaylord Perry, Jim Kaat, Carl Yastrzemski, Phil Niekro, Willie Stargell, Luis Tiant, Tony Perez.

• Jim Kaat pitched to Franco in '82, and also to Ted Williams at the beginning of Kaat's career. So Franco faced a pitcher who faced Ted Williams.

A Short Round Up of Recent Posts

My friends if you haven't been here for a while here is a list of what we have covered:

Distilled Wisdom- Quotes that I Enjoy
Who is Middle Aged
June
This Will Strengthen Your Marriage
I Should Have Stayed in Bed
Johnny and June- A Rough Draft
Audio fragments from Entebbe Operation Released
A Loveless Marriage
Life Has Its Moments

And your blast from the past:

A Few More Random Musings

Reasons Why I Am Not A Pulpit Rabbi

What Is Your Favorite Blog Name?

The Last Word

Faith Versus Science

Distilled Wisdom- Quotes that I Enjoy

I am always searching for quotes that are meaningful to me. Here are a bunch that I really enjoy. My apologies for formatting issues.

I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion -
I have shudder'd at it.
I shudder no more.
I could be martyr'd for my religion
Love is my religion
And I could die for that.
I could die for you.
~ by John Keats ~

I'd like to run away
From you,
But if you didn't come
And find me ...
I would die.
~ by Shirley Bassey ~

You will never know true happiness
until you have truly loved,
and you will never understand
what pain really is
until you have lost it.
~ by Anonymous ~

The most precious possession that ever comes
To a man in this world
Is a woman's heart.
~ by Josiah G. Holland ~

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
~ by Mark Twain ~

If we listened to our intellect, we'd never have a love affair. We'd never have a friendship. We'd never go into business, because we'd be too cynical. Well, that's nonsense. You've got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down.
~ by Ray Bradbury ~

Never, never, never, never give up.
~ by Winston Churchill ~

Once you agree upon the price you and your family must pay for success, it enables you to ignore the minor hurts the opponent's pressure, and the temporary failures.
~ by Vince Lombardi ~

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
Shakespeare- Sonnet 18

If thou remember'st not the slightest folly
That ever love did make thee run into,
Thou hast not loved.
(As You Like It, 2.4.33-5)

It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.
(5.5.30), Macbeth

"A friend is one before whom I may think aloud."

"A hero is no braver than an ordinary man, but he is braver five minutes longer.

"Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail."

"Give all to love; obey thy heart."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself.
John Stuart Mill

There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till. The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried.


"No law can be sacred to me but that of my nature."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure... than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat."

Teddy Roosevelt

"Every attempt to make war easy and safe will result in humiliation and disaster."
General William Tecumseh Sherman

"It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat."

Teddy Roosevelt "Citizenship in a Republic,"
Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910

Who is Middle Aged

America is a culture that is obsessed with youth, or so I hear the pundits say. Pundit, now there is a term that is relatively meaningless. Just one more way to describe a person with an opinion that is not necessarily based upon expertise in the field they are commenting upon.

I am going to be 39. There, I said it. That is twice in one week. My birthday is Friday. In a year I am going to be 40. How many television shows or movies have I seen about people turning 40 and their struggle with middle age. Far too many.

I don't consider myself to be middle aged. Here is my formula for determining when I am middle aged. I have two grandparents who are 94. Take their age and divide it in half. Once I reach that age I might be middle aged. So I have a few years left.

My concerns with aging are relatively simple. I don't like the new aches and pains that seem to show up. That crick in my neck didn't ask for permission to hang out. It doesn't pay rent or contribute anything other than aggravation. The freeloader just hangs out and reminds me that I can't sleep in certain positions anymore.

I played two hours of basketball today. I feel pretty good, but tomorrow morning I'll pay for it. I'll wake up and for the first five minutes or so my posture will resemble a question mark.

Aging is not something that I fear. I am not ready to die. There are so many things to do and so many things to see. When I spoke with my friend about her marriage I spent the majority of the time listening, but I did make a few comments. The primary one was about living life.

Life is not meant to be floated through. It is not something that you just kind of show up at. Life is meant to be participated in. You can't stand on the edge of the room and watch everyone else do a Viennese Waltz around you. You need to grab a hold of your partner and do a little Tango, quickstep your way across the room and back.

We all have moments of fear and doubt. I get that. I understand it. I have made so many mistakes, so very many. Most of my regrets are not about what I did, but what I didn't do. Sometimes my fear paralyzed me and that is what makes me sad.

I can't say that she should live as I would. I can't tell her to do things just as I would and expect her to live like that. Some major decisions are only for her.

But, we have a special friendship and if I wasn't completely honest I would be untrue to what we have. There is a reason why you can find so many quotes in my blog. In fact, I think that it is time to share some of them again. I'll do that in the next post.

June

This is a continuation of Johnny and June- A Rough Draft. Both sections contain sort of an outline for the story. It needs to be fleshed out, but for now this will do.

The funny thing if you will about Johnny and June was the matter in which they met. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that it was uncommon and unsought for. But what surprised them more than that was how fast they fell in love with each other.

If you were to ask them how it happened they'd supply you with standard answers about having discovered someone who completed them, fulfilled them etc. But that really wouldn't explain the deep connection that they felt. It wouldn't tell you that their relationship had a depth that exceeded all that they had ever felt before. They shared a level of intimacy that few couples ever get to and most could never understand.

That intimacy made June exceptionally happy and exceedingly confused. She prided herself upon living a life based upon logic and order. Don't get me wrong, she wasn't some kind of robot. She loved to smile, loved to laugh and generally loved life. June was a happy girl. Part of that happiness was feeling like she understood the world around her.

Johnny took that organized, picture perfect world and turned it upside down. June struggled to figure out how her Johnny could make her stammer like a school girl. It had been a long time since someone had made her heart pound. It was unsettling to her and she didn't like being unsettled.

She was always the rock. People relied upon her, depended upon her for being steady. Her Johnny had an uncanny knack for wreaking havoc. He used to kid around about how storms followed where he walked. The first couple of times he said that had made her roll her eyes, but over time she had come to agree with it.

It wasn't always easy. Sometimes June would pick a fight with Johnny. She didn't like feeling so unsettled. But the fights never lasted all that long. She couldn't stay angry with him. That infuriated her even more and at the same time made her even happier. It was a crazy contradiction.

Johnny used to tell her to just relax. She hated that, especially when he'd start laughing. But part of her loved him all the more, just because. It was the "just because" that made it harder. She really, really wanted to understand how he could send her over the edge.

Over time June began to see that she had the same impact upon her Johnny. It helped to soften some of the edges, but it also caused a few to become frayed as well. The passion between them had such intensity that they were amazed that it never seemed to fade.

This Will Strengthen Your Marriage

I wonder if the people who make this TwoDaLoo are familiar with the pink version here. For those of you who are salivating at the idea of sharing this intimate moment with your loved one, here are the specs:

The TwoDaLoo features two side-by-side toilet seats with a modest privacy wall in between. An upgraded version includes a seven inch LCD television and iPod docking station.

Suggested Retail Price: $1,400.00

I Should Have Stayed in Bed

Here are five reasons why I should have stayed in bed today:

1) I slipped on a grease spot and went flying into a car. Left a nice sore spot on my side.
2) I stepped in gum.
3) Had lunch with my friend E. and received a parking ticket. Got there 1 minute after the meter expired.
4) My daughter threw a ball at me when I wasn't looking and it hit me in the crotch.
5) Because.

Now I know that everyone has days like this and that sometimes shit happens, but this type of crap is supposed to be limited to bad sitcoms. And now if you'll excuse me I am off to go scream at the sky.

Johnny and June- A Rough Draft

Been working on Fragments of Fiction. Here is a new piece that I just started working on. It is a bit rough in places.

Johnny loved his Junebug. She was his air and his sunshine. He started and ended each day with a silent prayer of thanks to the lord for sending June into his life.

Johnny had been in love before. He had had his heart broken more than once and he had survived. He hadn’t just survived; he had fallen in love again and moved on. That is what Old John did. He survived.

When life knocked him down he dusted himself off and picked himself back up again. He reveled in being a tough guy and enjoyed telling stories that portrayed himself in that fashion. What he didn’t realize was that the tough guy persona was something that he used to protect himself. It was a way of trying to keep people at a distance.

He was good at it. If you didn’t let people in you weren’t ever at risk for getting hurt.

The funny thing was that June just walked right in. He couldn’t tell you how it happened. Couldn’t describe exactly how, why or when she became his best friend. All he could do was acknowledge that it had happened.

So it really isn’t all that surprising to write that one day he woke up and realized that he was madly, passionately in love with June. It wasn’t the plain old garden variety of love either. Johnny was devoted to her.

When they were apart there was a physical ache in his side. He didn’t just miss her, he MISSED her.

Johnny didn’t like feeling so dependent upon anyone. It wasn’t just that it didn’t fit the tough guy image, it scared him. He never would have admitted it, but he was truly afraid of what life without her would be like.

Most of the time he didn’t worry about that. His Junebug did a fine job of expressing herself. He always felt her love and her warmth. It gave him strength. She thrived off taking care of him. She doted upon him. He got that special smile that no one else got. Her best was always reserved for her Johnny.

Not unlike many women, June was always concerned that she look good for Johnny. She loved seeing the desire in his eyes and knowing that he wanted her. If you left it at that you might think that it was shallow, but the truth was that it was more than that.

June loved Johnny because he understood, accepted and appreciated her. She felt comfortable around him in a way that she never did with anyone else. June loved her Johnny for that.

When things were good with the two of them they were really good and when they were bad, well it is not an exaggeration to say that the world felt cold and dark.

Audio fragments from Entebbe Operation Released

Special forces heard communicating during rescue operation. Click here.

A Loveless Marriage

This Friday I am going to turn 39. That sounds so strange to me. It is tough to believe that I could be describing myself. I can't be that old, that is almost 40 and I can't be more than 30, if that. Ok, I know the truth is that I am going to be 39. I have seen the birth certificate, been there for all of the birthdays etc.

What hits me about this is that when I think about my life experiences I have experienced or been exposed to so many "adult situations."

Weddings, Funerals, Children, Divorce- Is it just me or should that line be accompanied by a dirge.

The latest twist is the loveless marriage. During this past year two different friends have confessed that they are no longer in love with their spouses and have asked for my advice. They presented me with a very difficult situation.

They aren't in abusive relationships. I can't look at them and say that their spouse is a monster, ok, one is a stupid muppet, but...

Anyway the real rub here is that they have children and as good parents they're trying to evaluate what is in their children's best interests. It is not an easy choice to make. Do you stay unhappy and unfulfilled so that you can prevent heartache.

It is one thing to subjugate your need for a fancier car/home/vacation so that your children can attend private school, it is another to stifle your heart.

Life is so very short and I find myself torn. I am cautious in how I respond. I want them to make the hard decision to stay or to leave. But I can't say that I believe that every relationship is made to last forever.

I believe that some do. I know that sometimes you find that special person who completes you and that when you do you need to hold on to them. Don't let them get away.

But there are others whose time is more ephemeral. The question is how to identify which is which.

I mention this because I just finished speaking or should I say listening to my friend cry. It was heart wrenching to listen to her describe how she forced herself to engage in conjugal relations with a man she feels nothing for just to keep her boys family intact.

It felt like she was begging me to give her some sort of profound answer that would allow her to live with him, but I couldn't do it. I tread carefully and was cautious in my response. I want to say that she shouldn't condemn herself to floating through life and living out a jail sentence, but I don't know that it is my place to say it.

But the more I think about it, the more I believe that you have to find a balance, kids or not.

More on this later.

Life Has Its Moments

"It ought to be easy ought to be simple enough
Man meets woman and they fall in love
But the house is haunted and the ride gets rough
And youve got to learn to live with what you cant rise above if you want to ride on down in through this tunnel of love."
Tunnel of Love- Bruce Springsteen

Earlier today I was asked how things are going and I answered "Life has its moments." If you speak Jack you know that it is my way of saying that things could be better. It is a non descriptive way of my saying that I am unhappy with some of the things that are going on around me.

Saturday night someone asked me if I had ever read a blog. I laughed and told them that I had been blogging for four years. This led to right into the "I'd like to see your blog" and "why do you do it" conversation that I have had more than a few times.

I told her that at the moment my blogging was being done in relative anonymity and that for now I'd prefer to keep it that way and that my anonymity allowed me to share thoughts and feelings that I wouldn't normally do otherwise.

She asked me if I thought that it would be easier to let my friends/loved ones know about it because then they could gain a better understanding of what is happening in my life, why I might be feeling a certain way and in turn be more supportive of me.

What I wanted to say was that I don't want to open up any more than I have. Some of the more unsavory characters have already tried to use my words against me. There have been more than a couple of moments in which I exposed the soft underbelly and was rewarded with a boot or jabbed with a stick.

And the contradiction I call Jack keeps coming. Anger the beast and you get the horns. Do him wrong and he will NEVER forget. There is a laundry list that lives inside his head of those who have harmed him and a day of reckoning.

And then there is the quiet laughter. What do I care. What does it matter. Flip through the book and you see a guy who is just trying to figure it all out. Sometimes I know exactly who I am and where I am going and sometimes I don't.

Sometimes the scars of the past and the fear of being hurt again hold me back. Sometimes I scream. Sometimes I yell in defiance at those who stand in my way.

Have you figured out that I think very graphically. I won't call for Rapunzel to let down her hair. I will pull the whole fucking castle down and pluck her out before she hits the ground.

The test of a man is not measured in days, but over his life. I continue to make mistakes, but I keep coming. I do what I do because I don't know how to be otherwise. All I can do is be me.

Jack Speaks

Death Visits Again- Cremation Story

A little more than a week ago Death paid the Shack a visit. The old Grim Reaper came a calling upon our doorstep and in spite of our best efforts he strolled on in. With little to no effort he claimed another loved one and set in motion an odd series of events.

Due to privacy issues I am not able to reveal everything that happened, but I will share bit with you. You see this particular relative was insistent upon being cremated. If you are not Jewish that may sound relatively innocuous, but it is generally frowned upon by us. Jews aren't real big on throwing ourselves into an oven. We'll leave it at that.

As the levaya wasn't a traditional affair we decided to let the kids attend. It was the first time either one of them had been, although not the first time they had visited a cemetery. I made a point of speaking with them before we went. I wanted to make sure they were as comfortable as they could be.

We sat down and spoke for a few minutes about what it means to die and what happens. I felt relatively good about the conversation and figured that I'd deal with whatever else came along.

There are two moments from the levaya that I will always remember.

1) My son spots my parents in the back of the room and runs down the center aisle to see them. He explains to them that the family room on the side has bottled water and offers to get them some. Before my parents can respond he throws himself on his belly and soldier crawls all the way up the aisle until he reaches the Bimah.

Upon reaching the Bimah he stands up and sprints over the family room to grab the water. He then races off of the Bimah and returns to the soldier crawl position to deliver the water to my parents.

2) The service ends and he asks me where the body is. It catches me off guard. I don't want to tell him about cremation. He is not ready to hear it and I know that it will freak him out. So I tell him that there are a couple of steps that need to be taken to finish preparation of the body.

This of course leads to a whole line of questions. I answer all of them and find out that I have a budding attorney/detective. He thinks that I am holding back and asks me what I haven't told him.

I tell him that he knows everything that he needs to know and he tells me that he needs more information. I never waver and spend the next six days fending off additional questions, but I think that someone else might have spilled their guts.

He has been asking some peculiar questions. If I find out that someone told him about cremation there may be another funeral because I will have tear off their arms and beat them to death with them.

That is the kind of stuff that you don't share with a child unless you have cleared it with mom and dad first.

Couldn't Sleep

There will I make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.

A belt of straw and ivy buds
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me and be my Love.


--The Passionate Shepherd to his love--Marlowe-- (Always enjoyed this poem)

Well, maybe blogging at 2 am isn't such a good idea after all. I had a terrible time going to sleep and then I had these weird dreams in which I was at a county fair searching for my best friend and couldn't quite find them.

I think that they were there, at least I am pretty sure as I thought that I could hear their voice. And everywhere I turned I saw things that reminded me of them. It was a bit frustrating. Woke back up and threw on the iPod and this what I listened to.

Baby Now That I Found You
all I ask of you
Always on My Mind
Gentle Annie
Californication
Around the World
Oh Mary!
Chasing Cars
Broken hearts
Jackson
Ring of Fire
America
The Boxer
Sabbath Prayer

"All lies and jest, still the man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest, hmmmm"
The Boxer- Simon and Garfunkel

The Past Is The Present

I had intended to write a couple of posts on Friday but just ran out of time. I had some goofy names for them like "The Ripper Report" and "The Silverman Swallow." Those won't mean a thing to most of you, in fact they might not mean much of anything to the few who get the references.

It was an incredibly busy week. Had a death in the family to deal with, went out of town, met a few bloggers and did the normal work thing. And so I find myself awake at 2 am on a Sunday night dreading the morning. I had intended to go sleep at a normal hour, but courtesy of a bad case of the stomach blues I find myself awake.

Sometime during the week I'll spend some time blogging about some of these events. There are things that need to be discussed and considered, but some of that will have to wait for a moment in which I can focus on things.

I spent the weekend at my old summer camp. There was a special program that we participated in. It is the third time we have done it and a hell of a lot of fun.

It is a place that I love to be. It is a place in which I have experienced tremendous joy and even so pretty heartfelt sadness. It is hard to come up with the right words to describe it, or maybe it is the lack of sleep.

Every time I go I make sure to take a few minutes for myself. I wander over to some special places and take a moment to think about life and where it is taking me. I often look at the moon and wonder how many others are watching with me. I can feel their dark eyes staring out searching just as I search for theirs.

I like to wander through the dark and let my thoughts roam where they may. Last night I walked out the back road and headed up a hillside. Alone in the dark I sat and listened to the sounds around me. The gentle hum of the crickets and a soft breeze kept me company. It was very relaxing.

I lay back on the dirt and stared up at the sky. As I lay there I couldn't help but remember being 20 and doing the same thing. Except back then I was a heart broken kid who was desperately trying to make sense of my life. The girl I thought was the moon and the stars had left me and I couldn't understand it.

It was a rough time. I remember vowing that I would never fall in love again. It hurt too much. I couldn't conceive of giving so much of myself to someone else. That empty feeling felt as if it would never go away. All I could think about was what it was like to kiss her, how amazing it was to be with someone who knew me so well. I remembered staring in her eyes and feeling like time had stopped.

And then suddenly it did. It took my breath away and for a while I locked up that piece of my heart.

But in time I let it go. In time I recognized that some vows didn't have to be made for life and accepted that it was possible to be happy and I was.

It was nice to look back and see how far I have come and to remind myself that history is a guide. The challenges I face today need not to be viewed as being so overwhelming that they cannot be overcome.

So in a way the past is the present and the future is that which I create.

Haveil Havalim # 164 - no names edition

Snoopy has the scoop: Haveil Havalim # 164 - no names edition

Lost Love: Guess Who's Back?

I stumbled onto an old Psychology Today article that I thought was interesting. It is called Lost Love: Guess Who's Back?

It is relatively long so I won't post the whole thing here, but I will provide some excerpts and a link to an Enya video that felt appropriate.

Today, old lovers can type a name into Google. The act seems to be casual, whether it actually is or not. It's so easy to reconnect that many people look up old flames without appreciating what's at stake. Most of these romantic reunions, says California State University at Sacramento psychologist Nancy Kalish, are between first or early loves—those relationships that took place between one's teens and early 20s.

According to Kalish, the country's foremost expert in rekindled romance, lost-and-found romances are surprisingly successful, as long as both partners are not otherwise attached at the time they reconnect. In Kalish's initial sample of 1,000 lost-and-found lovers, ages 18 to 95, nearly three-quarters remained together after a decade of study. When these past lovers married each other, their divorce rate after four years tallied in at no more than 1.5 percent. Usually, second marriages are relatively fragile: In the public at large, nearly one-quarter of all couples who remarry get divorced again within five years.

How to explain the endurance of rekindled first love? "Many of the couples grew up together or shared friends and values," says Kalish. Whether they were from the same hometown or met in college, "they spent formative years together and became each other's standard for all romances since."

Yet for all the power and resilience of rekindled romance, Kalish has discovered a dark side. More of the encounters are now unpremeditated, and many of these people are swept away by feelings they didn't know they still had, placing marriages—even good marriages—at risk. In her latest sample, more than 60 percent of lost-love reunions involve affairs.

The Lost-Love Project

Nancy Kalish was teaching adolescent psychology at the University of California in San Francisco in 1993 when she began wondering about her college boyfriend. She got his phone number by writing to their alumni association, and that first contact reawakened their romance. She took a sabbatical and moved to New York to be with him; they got engaged. Yet problems emerged. Kalish found herself shocked and hurt the day he drove away, never to be heard from again.

At the time, Kalish assumed—mistakenly as it turns out—that most rekindled loves, like her own, were saddled with past problems and doomed to fail. Curious about the phenomenon, she decided to conduct a scholarly post mortem of her own relationship. She designed a questionnaire and began seeking a population to fill in the blanks.

Lost-and-found love affairs were common, she learned, and uncommonly successful. Most of the people Kalish met during her earliest research had been separated by circumstance: long distances and family moves, stints in the military, disapproving parents, the uncertainty of youth. The lost lovers felt their separation had been unjust, and now they finally had the chance to set things right.

"Those forced apart by parents harbored great anger," she says. "Some had put off marriage and even lost their chance to have children as a result." The reunions were often supremely vindicating. "He kept kissing my face at the airport, and after 20 years he was saying, 'You're beautiful, you look fabulous,' " one woman in Kalish's study recounted.

Such love may sound fantastical, sure to vaporize in the light of day, but Kalish says that nothing could be further from the truth. "These are love relationships that never ended, not fantasies."

If you read the whole article you'll see that it covers both the good and the bad of these rekindled romances. Maybe it is because I am a sentimental old sap, but I find it interesting. Not to mention that it really raises a ton of questions.

What do you think?

It Is One of My Favorite Love Stories

L.A. Story is one of my favorite love stories. Granted, it is not Casablanca, but there is something special and amazing about it. Here are some quotes from it and a montage of clips that I kind of like.

Sara: And if I were to go?
Harris: All I know is, on the day your plane was to leave, if I had the power, I would turn the winds around, I would roll in the fog, I would bring in storms, I would change the polarity of the earth so compasses couldn't work, so your plane couldn't take off.

Harris A kiss may not be the truth, but it is what we wish were true.

Harris I've been thinking about myself and I think I can become the kind of person that's worth you staying for. First of all, I'm a man who can cry. Now it's true, it's usually when I've hurt myself, but it's a start. You see I know there is something that would make you stay, I know it. I know there is some move I can make, the right word, attitude, plan. But these are all just tricks, just things I would think up and try. So let's forgo that.
Let's assume that whatever that thing is, that whatever it is that would make you stay has already occurred, that it has happened and that my hand has already gone down your throat and grabbed your heart and squoze it.

Music for The Middle of My Day

Courtesy of iTunes Shuffle:

I would do anything for love-Meatloaf
Now we are free- Lisa Gerrard
I Want to Break Free- Queen
Love Rollercoaster- Ohio Players
Can't Get Enough Of Your Love Babe-Barry White
Close My eyes Forever- Lita Ford and Ozzie Osborne
Knocking On Heaven's Door- Guns N Roses
RHYME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER- Iron Maiden
Sabotage- Beastie Boys
Ain't no Sunshine- Bill Withers