• Something is terribly wrong

    Something is causing me to hallucinate. Could it be a tumor? Am I having a breakdown? Is the fabric of reality itself crumbling at my feet?

    Morton Plant Hospital sent us not one, but two checks. That’s right boys and girls, a representative of the U.S. health care system is sending me money. Haven’t they got this relationship backwards?

    The kicker is this money was sent to us unsolicited. They were not dragged, kicking and screaming to their checkbook, starring down the muzzle of a lawsuit. I don’t think the hospital has even crossed my mind in the last six weeks. Out of the blue, two checks show up. I’m stunned. What am I supposed to do now? Do I cash the checks or seek medical attention?

  • Late night with the speaker of the house

    Except for the television displaying the static default “DVD VIDEO” picture, the room is dark. Well, that’s not exactly true, I shouldn’t forget the small amount of light my beloved PowerBook is producing. My month old son is sleeping peacefully about six feet to my left. My feet are stowed in their full, up most position. My son finished eating his last meal about two hours ago. My daughter went to bed right after that. My wife went to bed several hours before that. Since then the television hasn’t done what it’s best at (displaying moving pictures). There was an aborted attempt to pick a DVD an hour and a half ago, but I’ll get back to that in a moment. I haven’t done any reading. I haven’t done any housework. I haven’t played with any of my computers. I haven’t taken a nap. I haven’t done anything I would be embarrassed to explain in this space. So what the hell have I been doing, short of doing my best impression of a chronic, vegetative state? In the last hour and a half I’ve made three trips to the kitchen and back (from our family room). I’ve eaten two Twix bars, drank one glass of berry burst Gatorade, opened and stared into three different DVD boxes, and gave some serious thought to how entertaining all of this would be to my faithful readers.

    Yeah, I really blew that call.

    Welcome to the constituency of one. It’s a magical place where expectations are only as high as you choose and there are no repercussions for prolonged inactivity, so long as your temperament can stand it. Words can not describe how, (enthusiastic grunt), it can be.

    On the evening of the third day (of the work week), John created absolutely nothing – and it was good.

  • More words to live by

    When you’re not feeling your best, do you crave a pick-me-up that you can sink your teeth into? Do you look for something that can raise your blood sugar as much as your spirits? Is frosted something more than a colorful way to describe your mood? If you are with me so far then you can appreciate the soothing value of a frosted brown sugar and cinnamon Pop-tart toaster pastry. My only beef with the Pop-tart people is that they package the tasty morsels in pairs. When you crack that seal of freshness, and the tear in the foil package gives you that first glimpse of what’s waiting inside, no fewer than two pastries assault your senses. What freedom loving American could abandon a perfectly good toaster pastry, regardless of the size of your appetite? Returning an unsealed, and lets face it: damn near criminally vulnerable, toaster pastry to the opened box is more than this conscientious author can bear.

    So when I’m alone in my office, and there are no takers for a perfectly good spare toaster pastry, I really can’t eat just one. It’s just not the right thing to do.

    Tune in next time when we debate the pros and cons of the hard ‘n fruity, soft ‘n chewy, artificially flavored, cherry Now and Later.