Several Surveys in One

I have to thank Clarity25 for providing me with something to post in my diary. I am desperate to post something, and she always seems to find the most interesting "quizzes." I know she was probably dismayed by a certain deeply held opinion I shared recently, but she's a pretty classy person and probably won't remain dismayed for too long.

1) What's your middle name? Jay 2)

School bully you can't forget: There were quite a few obnoxious kids in the schools I attended (between kindergarten and 12th grade), but none that I thought of as bullies. Since I was really never part of the popular crowd (except maybe as a senior), that’s quite a positive endorsement of my home county in South Dakota. The only real bully I ever encountered was an adult who had never grown up (ironically, in my home county). I was an adult at the time, too.

3) Were you prom queen or king? No, but I was chosen as “King of Grub Day” (Halloween) in 8th grade. I tied for that honor with one of my best friends. :-)

4) Pancakes or waffles? No preference. I like both. What’s the difference between them? My absolute favorite is French toast.

5) First celebrity crush? Jane Seymour

6) Make up: Joan Collins or Christie Brinkley? I probably shouldn’t be taking this quiz. Right?

7) Do you now or have you ever owned a pair of Jordache jeans? Do they make those for men?

8) Ever won an athletic competition? A real one? No.

9) New York or San Francisco? Neither.

10) Plaid or paisley? I don’t know what paisley is, but if it is in the same sentence with plaid then, “Yuck!” to both.

11) Can you cook? What's your specialty? Yes, I can cook. A bit of bragging here: For a few months, I was a cook in a café (attached to my dad’s bar) and got compliments from ranchers on how well I cooked their steaks and hamburgers. Cattle ranchers are notorious for wanting their steaks “just so.” Little did they know, I had never cooked much of anything in my life before that time, certainly no steaks, and very few hamburgers either. In fact, I hated steaks at the time and am still not overly fond of them.

My specialty is a certain type of French fries in which the potato is first boiled and then fried to a perfect golden brown. If taken out a minute too early or too late, I consider the batch a failure.

12) Do you shave above the knee? The person who wrote this survey should really try to keep in mind that there are a few men who write at DiaryLand. That being said, I only shave below the knees... ;-)

13) Michael Jackson: disturbed predator or grossly misunderstood? Probably both, but certainly an unbelievably stupid fool who opens himself up to opportunistic con artists.

14) Prominent movie from your childhood? “Gandhi” and one or three others that I cannot think of at the moment.

15) In an ideal world, I would look like... to be able to tolerate a mindless, 9-to-5, boring, unimaginative career.

16) Thank God I do NOT look like... “Reality TV.”

17) My secret passion is... I’ve always worn my passions on my sleeve.

18) My archenemy is... I don’t know if “archenemy” is the right term, but there are two people who come close: The unqualified, incompetent, unintelligent and corrupt superintendent and business manager at the school where I used to work. They have, without the slightest bit of conscience, played with and ruined people’s lives and careers for their own personal pleasure and advancement. In a bigger pond, these two losers would not be tiny fish; they would be plankton.

19) If I had to lose one of my senses it would be... Taste. Nothing tastes that great to me anymore anyway, and I would certainly eat a lot less junk food.

20) This quiz? Is not too easy to flunk.

This survey was snagged from Clarity25.

LAST PERSON WHO...

Slept in your bed: Me :-(

Saw you cry: Probably one of my parents when I was a kid. I am irrationally stubborn about hiding that side of myself.

Made you cry: My Iranian soul mate.

Spent the night at your house: I cannot remember (which probably speaks volumes, doesn’ it?). As for the few girlfriends I’ve had, I mostly spent the nights at their houses.

You went to the mall with: Fellow educators/friends during a technology conference in Omaha, Nebraska.

Yelled at you: My aunt, two and a half months ago, during a scene in which she pretended to kick me out of her house.

Sent you an e-mail: A woman friend who wants my advice on which type of Macintosh laptop to buy for her daughter. This daughter (very beautiful, I might add) will be transferring from the University of Nebraska to Boston University this fall. In between, she will be spending time in London, England.

HAVE YOU EVER...

Said "I love you" and meant it? Absolutely.

Gotten in a fight w/your dog/cat/bird/fish,etc.? Very strange way of phrasing it. That implies they fought back. But the point is moot. I’ve spoiled my cats so badly that they cannot even comprehend the concept of punishment. I was a bit more strict with previous pets.

Been to New York? Yes, but I don’t remember it. I was only four months old and on my way from Heidelberg, Germany, where I was born, to my mom’s old home in Missouri (and eventually back to my dad’s old home in South Dakota).

California? Yes, three times. Twice to the Los Angeles area to visit relatives and once to San Diego (Coronado) to interview a World War II veteran who had been a prisoner of the Japanese.

Hawaii? No

Mexico? No

China? No

Canada? No, but I’ve lived in Montana, which borders Canada.

Danced naked? I may have. If I did, it didn’t stick in my memory.

Dreamed something really crazy and then it happened the next day? I have had vague impressions of such dreams once or twice. In fifth grade, though, I was standing on the sidewalk beside the school building waiting for the bus to arrive to take me home. I thought to myself, “If I jump over that long, narrow puddle of water that borders the sidewalk, I bet that kid standing there will grab my arm and cause me to turn sideways in midair and fall face down in that puddle, getting me wet from head to toe. The odds of it happening exactly like that were practically zero; so I jumped, and it happened exactly like that.

Wish you were the opposite sex? Just long enough to see if what they say about a woman’s “level of pleasure” is true. :-)

Had an imaginary friend? No

RANDOM...

Red or blue? Both, actually.

Spring or fall? Fall, but by a slim margin.

Are you bored? Yes, and for so many years that I am now totally numb to it.

Last noise you heard? Me laughing at my answer to the “opposite sex” question above.

Last time you went out of the state/province: Two and a half months ago.

What book are you reading now? "Love and Sleep” by John Crowley. Regrettably, it doesn’t rise to the level of a literary masterpiece, the way his novel “Little, Big” does (see my profile page). The latter novel has had more influence on my writing style (fiction writing) and view of reality than any has any other novel.

Worst feeling in the world: Being trapped in a life you hate by circumstances beyond your control

What is the first thing you think when you wake in the morning? "Oh, God! Not this consciousness thing again!”

How many rings before you answer the phone? Without caller ID, no more than one ring (I hate ringing phones). With caller ID, no more than two (just long enough for the caller ID to register a name).

Future daughter's name: Christina, Josie, Katie (names of three of my great-great aunts), plus a certain name I discovered since joining DiaryLand. I also like “Rhiannon” (the title of a Stevie Nicks/Fleetwood Mac song), but that might be a bit too strange to give to a kid in this day and age. There was also a beautiful girl in my school with the name “Sateera.” I’ve always loved that name

Future son's name: I don’t know.

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? No. I doubt I even did this as a child.

If you could have any job you wanted, what would it be? There are several. Historical researcher, private detective (not the fictional kind on TV), photographer/videographer, writer, Macintosh salesman, etc.

Are you a lefty, righty or ambidextrous? Lefty and semi-ambidextrous. I broke my left arm in 6th grade and again in 8th grade. I broke my left thumb in college. I, therefore, had to learn how to write with my right hand on three different occasions.

Do you type with your fingers on the right keys? Yes. When I’m at the top of my game, I can type 40 words per minute.

What's under your bed? Nothing anymore. Just three or four days ago, I traded my bed with the one in the spare bedroom. Prior to that time, there were two or three empty boxes and two others filled with “heirlooms” that somehow were not put back in the closet after a cleaning binge

Location: Western Nebraska.

College plans: Only as a potential employee, never again as a student.

Do you do drugs? No way, although one DiaryLander’s recent experience with a certain “fungi” was somewhat intriguing.

Do you drink? Yes way.

Who is your best friend? No one anymore, and, outside of being single, that is about the most unpleasant part of life for me. As I was growing up, best friends were what life was all about (along with girls). What has happened since then? One of my best friends turned into a college basketball star, and suddenly I wasn’t good enough for him anymore (we had been almost inseparable up to that time). Another best friend married a less-than-stellar woman who doesn’t like me (I think because I always feigned ignorance when her present husband -- my old best friend -- tried to set us up together -- he always did this as a joke). Prior to their marriage, I never knew that he liked her; therefore, I never hesitated to let him know that I did not like her. He never forgot this. In addition, he is scared to death to anger her, so he has basically forgotten me. My last best friend abandoned me just as he had abandoned all of his previous best friends -- without rhyme or reason. I always told him he would probably do it to me too some day, although I didn’t really believe it, and he also denied it (he has a heck of an inferiority complex). The loss of so many best friends can cause a person to think there is something wrong with him. This has made me very hesitant to let anyone else fit the roll of best friend (that female coworker I mentioned in a previous entry would have been an exception). A number of my new friends since then have been really annoyed at me (even offended) because I seldom ever made first contact with them (which is certainly unlike the old me)

Other great friends? Eh?

What kind of shampoo and conditioner do you use? Aussie.

What are you most scared of? Being on the outside, looking in (for the rest of my life), and getting old.

What clothes do you sleep in? Either my underwear, or nothing.

Who is the last person who called you? My cousin “Jill” just a few hours ago.

Who do you really hate? Hate requires too much work and is far too negative, but I have a great animosity toward the superintendent and business manager I mentioned earlier. I refuse to say, even in the most generic terms, who else comes close to being hated, but, suffice it to say, he is solely responsible for the intolerable burden that I endured for the past two and a half years (which finally ended just one month ago).

Favorite number: 13 (just cuz :-).

Are you timely or always late? Always early or else precisely on time (and I don’t even have to try; I just have a heck of an internal clock, as well as a strong “time” ethic; neither of which has helped me in this life, though). Do you have a job? No, but I’m working on it.

Do you like being around people? It depends on who they are. If they are the right people, then they will have a hard time getting rid of me :-). But I hate being in crowds of anonymous people or generic acquaintances.

Best feeling in the world: It’s been so long...

Are you for world peace? Well, duh.

STUFF... Have you ever loved someone you had no chance with? About every other week.

Have you ever cried over something someone of the opposite sex did? Only twice, and the Iranian was the culprit both times; once when she showed a particularly mean-spirited side of herself that I did not know existed and then again a few weeks later, when she left me at the request of her family.

Do you have a "type" of person you always go after? Appearance-wise: I was once told by a Scandinavian blonde coworker (in a somewhat frustrated tone) that I seemed only to be attracted to dark-haired women. Until she said that, I had never thought about it before. And she was right (probably thanks to the Iranian). It is no longer true that I am attracted only to dark-haired women, at least not entirely. Personality-wise: I am attracted to warm-hearted women who have a sincere smile. Pretty generic.

Ever liked a close guy/girlfriend? By this I presume you mean, “Have I ever had feelings for a close girlfriend?” Why, yes I have. She is mentioned in my last entry.

Are you lonely right now? Yep. Perpetually. In fact, I’m even lonely when I am among casual friends, because I want more than casual friendship...

Ever afraid you'll never get married? Yes, with every waking moment.

Do you want to get married? As the friend who married the less-than-stellar woman once said, putting words in my mouth because I couldn’t find them: “You would at least like to have the opportunity to say, ‘No’ to marriage. Right?” To which I replied, “Right!”

Do you want kids? More so in the past than I do now, but the genealogist in me always thinks about it.

FAVORITE...

Room in house: None. I am very tired of this house.

Type(s) of music: Everything but (c)Rap/Hip Hop, country, and pretentious, stereotypical alternative rock.

Song: Far too many, several of which I’ve named in a previous entry, but I am really taken with one I heard on “Grey’s Anotomy” two weeks ago: “David” by Nellie McKay (2003). That show simply has excellent soundtracks. Two reviews of Nellie McKay follow this survey.

Memory: There are so many different kinds of favorite memories, and I have a few scattered here and there, but none stand out above the others at this particular moment. I’ll think about it and get back to you. You are welcome to remind me if I forget.

Day of the week: None in particular.

Color: Blue. I was once told by an 8th-grade girl (in the school where I worked) that I wore too many blue shirts. I had only recently realized that fact myself and was dismayed and embarrassed when she confirmed that it wasn’t the only one who noticed. I wore far less blue after that.

Perfume or cologne: A very, very distinctive and hypnotic perfume, the name of which I do not remember. I’ve only smelled it on two different women in my life, the Iranian and some woman who had just left a room shortly before I entered it (which gave me a start, like you cannot imagine, since I thought I was going to run into the Iranian after having lost her a year or so earlier).

Month: Probably July, because it is the farthest away from school on either side (I took note of this when I was a student and also when I was a school employee, probably more so when I was a school employee).

Season: Summer and Fall

Holiday: None, in particular.

IN THE LAST 48 HOURS, HAVE YOU...

Cried: No

Bought something: No

Gotten sick: No

Sang: No

Said I love you: In absentia.

Wanted to tell someone you loved them: Yes

Met someone new: No

Moved on: I am in perpetual motion.

Had sex with someone: :-(

Had a serious talk: Yes

Missed someone: Yes

Hugged someone: No

Kissed someone: No

Fought with your parents: I had a “spirited disagreement” with my mom.

Dreamed about someone you can't be with: I don’ know. Maybe.

Had a lot of sleep: Yes

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The following rave reviews of Nellie McKay are just two among many at Amazon.com:

April 22, 2004 - Reviewer: A music fan “This kid is utterly amazing. She'd have been a success as a songwriter, a singer, a pianist, a lyricist, or an arranger. As it stands, she's all of that combined. Her piano lounge pieces have been polished and re-arranged for this album. But why on earth is there a clean version? No one interested in her energy, wit, sarcasm, humor, and irony would want to get this. Get the regular (‘explicit!’) version instead.”

April 14, 2004 - Reviewer: Kitchen Guy "BB" (Prior Lake, MN, USA) “Nellie McKay is brilliant. No 19 year old should have this much polish and verve. Her music--all original--is extremely strong and diverse (show tunes to rap), and she sells everything with a brassy gusto that is amazing to behold. I recommend this set to all my friends, and if Nellie sells worldwide the way she's selling in Minnesota, she'll have a long and rewarding career. What a talent!”

Finish-the-Thought Survey

I don't know what is becoming of me lately. I've been snooping through all of your diaries on a regular basis, but I haven't given you anything new to snoop through for almost a month. I do apologize. I simply cannot seem to drum up the energy to update lately. Part of this may have had to do with the fact that the burden I've mentioned in the past was beginning to seem permanent. Now, much to my total amazement and profound relief, it has finally come to an end -- after two and a half years. Since then, I have been so relieved and content that I haven't had the driving need to write. Even so, I am trying to figure out how I might describe it in a future entry. I may not find the right words, so don't get your hopes up (as if your hopes were ever up -- ha...).

If I hadn't been intrigued by the most recent survey on Clarity's site, I might still have been wondering what to post. It seems more creative than most surveys, so I couldn't resist giving it a try. If you start to get bored with my answers before finishing it, I ask you at least to skip down to the "Song I love, but don't have" part (because you can actually click on a link and listen to this one).

Please note that I defer to Clarity's responses twice in this survey. It turns out that her comments were almost identical to what I would have written, and I didn't want anyone to think I was plagiarizing her.

I began filling this out late Saturday night and then worked on it again Sunday night and this evening (Monday). It wasn't as easy as I thought it would be to complete these thoughts.

With regard to the first survey "sentence" below, let me introduce it by stating the obvious: Some TV shows and movies are absolutely hilarious. In spite of that, it is a safe bet that, if we read the actual scripts, the most humorous lines wouldn't seem funny at all. It is only in the presentation that they take on their inherent hilarity. My first entry in this survey is like a script that needs to be acted (by the right person) to be funny; nonetheless, I wrote it anyway.

Survey begins:

My uncle once fell asleep in his living-room chair (during my visit two months ago). At one point, the phone rang, and his wife (she being my aunt, of course) answered it. My uncle continued to sleep. After speaking briefly to the person on the phone, she said to my uncle, "Albert!" He jumped awake the way you do when you don't want anyone thinking you don't have your wits about you. He must have heard the phone in his sleep because he didn't wait for my aunt to explain what she wanted. He quickly grabbed the TV's remote control from the arm rest and put it to his face. "Hello?" he said. After a brief moment, he said in an ever-so-slightly embarrassed, yet all-too-dignified, air, "Oh! This isn't right." He then put the remote down and picked up the real telephone. Although we had been watching him, my two aunts and I had not noticed that he had answered the remote until he made that comment (it almost resembles a phone). We then laughed our heads off at his face-saving comment while he tried to talk to the caller. I continued to laugh for a week or two afterward every time I replayed his comment in my mind. It was just one of those moments that had to be seen to be appreciated.

Never in my life have I... How on earth can I pick just one of the million sentences that could begin with those four words? But I'll try anyway: Never in my life have I been so confused as to how I will spend the rest of my life. The confusion is almost paralyzing.

High school was filled with all the usual agonies and ecstasies that rack the teenage heart and mind. My freshman and senior years in South Dakota were close to excellent. My sophomore and junior years in Nebraska were terrible. Why? Because kids here treated (still treat??) new kids like dirt.

I will never forget a certain married female coworker in the school where I used to work. She was the first person since I was a teenager who fit -- to perfection -- my very strict definition of "best friend" (she was also the first woman who ever fit that category). It was very unpleasant knowing that I could never tell her so. This leads me to add: In some cases, the line between best friendship and love is so thin that it can only be seen with an electron microscope. Since I didn't have access to one of those expensive gadgets, I just simplified things by considering her to be the only best friend I ever loved.

I once met Governor George Mickelson of South Dakota in a very popular and very small "dive" bar in Pierre, SD, celebrating for the evening with his staff. I had been sitting at the bar with my back to him. He was sitting at the table directly behind me. I had not seen him yet. Soon he got up to pass by me. I turned to smile a polite hello to him and immediately had to struggle to prevent my eyes from widening when I recognized him. I just nodded my head in a nonchalant greeting, and he did much the same to me. Still, he seemed to convey a kindness that I had not expected. About three weeks later he was killed in a plane crash. Since I was working at the State Historical Society at the time, I attended his funeral in the state capitol building. Very sad. I hadn't realized how well liked he was by so many people.

There is this girl I know who... Can you believe that my mind has gone totally blank on this one? Maybe the next "answer" can suffice for this one too.

Once at a bar in Montana (where I worked) one of the most gorgeous girl's I had ever met asked me to show her an abandoned room in the back of my father's bar. It had once been the "cooler" for a funeral home or morgue in earlier decades. She hadn't believed me when I told her there was such a room back there. We had to walk through a pitch dark back room (no light bulb), with me holding her hand so she wouldn't trip over piles of junk (there was a single hanging light bulb at the far end of our trip). I will wonder in agony for the rest of my life if I was completely stupid for remaining a perfect gentleman during that walk in the dark (she had never shown an interest in me prior to that night). A few days later I moved away without ever seeing her again.

Last night (Friday night) I drank a little gin and grapefruit (grapefruit is definitely not something I usually put in gin, but it wasn't bad) and wrote a somewhat angry response to a fundamentalist, evangelical conservative nut on another web site (which I found by accident a few months ago). He is a young married man in his 20s, but he reminds me of an 8th grader in his conceited dismissal of people with whom he doesn't agree. Gin brings out the "intellectual" debater in me, and so I was on a roll. I'm sure it was a complete waste of time, though. People like him, when confronted with concrete facts, just close their eyes and pretend they aren't there.

If only I had a large number of my old friends living nearby.

Next time I go to church... Ain't gonna happen.

Terri Schiavo, if she was thinking at all, was probably thinking, "Gee, I'm glad so many people are convinced that I want to spend another twenty or forty years counting the same ceiling tiles over and over and over, without being able to scratch my itches or speak or read or anything. I wonder how they would feel if, for instance, they had to spend the rest of their lives buried in concrete up to their noses, so that they can do nothing but breathe and stare in frustration at a tiny portion of the world around them until they die of old age."

When I turn my head to the left I see the wall.

When I turn my head to the right, I see (sleeping on the desk's pullout leaf) the cat that multiplied shortly after I rescued her from the cold, cruel world two years ago. She is almost my constant shadow wherever I go, always looking at me with total affection, and seemingly afraid that her rescue will turn out to have been a dream from which she might awaken at any moment if she lets me out of her sight.

You know I'm lying only when I confess that I am lying. :-) Actually, I am not really the lying type -- the bad kind of lies, that is. Good lies? The kind that spare someone's feelings? or save them (as well as me) from harm? Sure. I tell those when the situation calls for it. For most of my life, though, I've always told the truth, even when it got me in trouble. Even my parents thought I was too honest for my own good. Lately, though, I have become really good at omitting things from public discourse instead of being honest about them. It took me much of my life to learn how to do that.

That being said, I must admit that, when it comes to lying merely for fun (for practical jokes), I can fool even the most skeptical person.

What I miss most about the eighties are the thousands of chances I had "to get it right," but didn't. Instead, I stumbled blindly along, continually thinking that my "real life" had not yet begun.

If I was a character written by Shakespeare I would sew my mouth shut to save people from having to listen to me babble on and on, seemingly incoherantly, for ten or twenty stanzas in a row. I am the only English major I know who cannot stand Shakespeare. Clarity says it perfectly. She writes, "Even though [Shakespeare] is considered one of the greatest historical writers, I think there is a lot of hype surrounding his work." Yaaaaayyyyyy!!! How refreshing it is FINALLY to "hear" someone else say that besides myself!

By this time next year, I am hopeful that my confusion will have come to pass.

A better name for me would be Festus Hagen.

If I ever go back to school it will be a sign that I have run out of less creative and less painful ways to torture myself. When I was in college, I wanted to stay there forever. Now that I am out, I cannot stand the thought of ever going back again. I absolutely love being able to choose what I want to learn, when I want to learn it, and how "hard" I want to learn it. It is great not having to learn what someone else wants me to learn.

You know I like you if ... Once again, I cannot top what Clarity wrote.

If I won an award, the first person I would thank is.... Hhhhmmm... I guess it all depends on what sort of award I won.

Darwin, Mozart, Slim Pickens, and Geraldine Ferraro are totally unrelated to one in another in every conceivable way.

Take my advice and NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER, NEVER allow your name to be put on a will, unless you stand to earn billions. If you do, the greedy, self-serving lawyers will make your life a living hell for a year or two (at the very least), and then they will charge you a fortune for the very strenuous chore of doing almost nothing for you. Wills are nothing more than legal scams. If you allow your name to be put on anything at all, make sure it is a trust and not a will.

My ideal breakfast is any one of a number of things, such as cereal, oatmeal, doughnuts or rolls, and, most wonderful of all, Hardee's Breakfast Friscos. Just writing about a Breakfast Frisco makes me want one.

My idea of a repulsive breakfast is anything that the majority of Americans (and Japanese) normally think of as lunch, supper or hors d'oeuvres material. :-)

A song I love, but don't have is "Cozy in the Rocket" by Psapp (2004)... Happily, the original response here became outdated last night (Sunday) evening, one day after I began this survey. It is the first new song I have liked (really, really liked) in a very long time. It just happens to be the theme song to the new hit series "Grey's Anatomy," which I mention in my previous entry. The show's producers play only about fifteen seconds of it, making it easily the shortest TV theme song of all time, and this definitely leaves you wanting to hear more. This evening, after watching the show, I got on the internet to see what its name is and who sings it. During my search, I accidentally stumbled onto this link, which, unbelievably, contains the entire song (in MP3 format). The other four minutes and thirteen seconds are easily as good as the fifteen seconds that plays on TV. Please give it a listen. I think some of you might like it.

Click here to read a little bit about Psapp, a British/German duo.

If you visit my hometown (or, rather, the town I think of as my hometown), you would probably initially react to it the same way Dr. Joel Fleischman reacts when he first arrives in Cicely, Alaska (on TV's Northern Exposure). Then, just like him, you would slowly start to realize that there is a touch of magic surrounding the place.

[By the way, Northern Exposure is one of my favorite TV shows of all time.]

Tulips, character flaws, microchips, and track stars are the random thoughts of a surveyor who was determined to write something here, in spite of suffering from severe "blank-mind" syndrome.

If you stay overnight in my house be prepared to visit into the wee hours.

I'd stop my wedding for just long enough to ask my bride-to-be if she truly realizes what she is getting herself into. :-)

The world could do without so many things; but I don't want to sound like a contestant in the Miss America pageant. Therefore: It could definitely do without rap and hip-hop music.

I'd rather lick the belly of a cockroach than sit on a jury that has to contemplate imposing the death penalty on someone.

My favorite blond is Veronica Lake.

Paperclips are more useful than your finger when your ear itches (if the sharp point is bent outward, that is).

If I do anything well, it is trying to treat people the way I would like to be treated.

And, by the way, it has been two years and two months now since I last had a cold (knock on wood). It has been equally as long since I suffered any sort of illness. I had to learn the hard way how to avoid catching colds (luckily, I have very seldom gotten sick throughout my life). For about the first two and a half years that I worked at the school, I caught an average of five colds per school year (which is about four more than usual), thanks to about 450 or so little viruses (aka "students") that infest the place. Finally, I had had enough. I began to take seriously the advice of one of my coworkers (the best friend mentioned earlier): DO NOT touch your nose or eyes during the school day, unless you have thoroughly washed your hands first. After I began doing that, I caught maybe only two colds in the next two and a half years, as well as a single case of a light 24-hour flu (normally, I go lots of years without ever having the flu); and those colds and flu probably occurred only because I forgot and touched my nose and/or eyes at some point. Since leaving the school, as I say, it has been two years and two months since I have had a cold or illness.

Of course, there are times when I am in public that I absolutely have to scratch an itchy eye or tickly nose. At those times, when no one is looking, I use the back of my hand or wrist (or, I must confess, my shirt sleeve) since they seldom ever touch any surfaces or other people. It isn't perfect, but it suffices. My friend also got me into the habit of cleaning my hands with hand sanitizer numerous times a day. Even with that, I still avoided touching my face until I arrived home at the end of the work day. At that time, I would immediately wash my hands and proceed to scratch, pick and rub my nose and eyes like a five-year-old hillbilly for the rest of the night. :-) In short, I am here to tell you that not touching your eyes and nose really works (it also helps immensely not to have any habits that weaken your respiratory system).

Whew! That took a long time

Speaking of a long time, I will try my best not to take so long between entry posts. Sincerely yours, YouNameIt

Bunches of Things

For some reason, I've been feeling like an intruder lately in our little online world. It's just one of those feelings that comes out of nowhere (or maybe next to nowhere). Regardless of its origins, it has affected my ability to post entries. I've finished (or partially finished) two or three of them, but I just haven't been able to make myself post them yet.

Nonetheless, I am in the mood to post something at this time, so I will do just as I did last month, after returning from South Dakota. I will post a list of random thoughts and facts. I began compiling this list last night. It goes as follows:

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11:34 PM, Sunday, April 10, 2005

The first draft of this entry is being written in longhand. Sometimes I love to lie in bed, on my side, head propped up on my right hand, and simply record my thoughts the old-fashioned way -- on paper. I've written some of my favorite thoughts in this setting -- or should I say "in this lying"? -- I mean "lying down," not "lying through my teeth" :-).

The following list of "stuff" combines the best of both the superficial and ficial (deep :-) aspects of my character.

1. My wrist was getting sore holding my head up, so I am now sitting up in bed and using a pillow desk to write on. [I wrote a lot more in bed last night than you see here. That's why my wrist got sore by the time I reached this first item.]

2. I'm much too private and unwilling to reveal certain events in -- and aspects of -- my life.

3. The odds are now about even that I will soon be relieved of the "burden" that has caused me to remain in western Nebraska for the past year. [But those odds are getting longer again, with every passing minute.]

4. Until last week, the odds were about 90-10 against my being released from this burden.

5. If, by chance, I am relieved of this burden (and my writing about it here will probably ruin it), I don't have a clue where to go or what to do with myself. What sort of job will I eventually find?

6. Throughout history, many veterans have celebrated the end of the wars in which they fought. For many of them, however, permanent psychological damage was done. No matter how wonderful the ensuing peace was, they could not make themselves enjoy it. To a much lesser degree, thanks to the events of the past two years, that analogy fits me (with regard to the possible lifting of the previously mentioned burden).

7. I worry that the next move I make in this life will determine the sort of life I live forevermore. That has scared me into hesitating, because I don't want to make a mistake. If I move somewhere, I will either stay there for the rest of my life, or else I will realize too quickly -- and once and for all -- that I am a restless vagabond, who is doomed to roam from town to town until I am old enough to qualify for a Scooter Chair.

8. I had my first Healthy Choice French-bread pizza for supper this evening. It was very good, but a bit rich in flavor. It was on sale at Albertson's Supermarket for only $1.00.

9. I should have gotten a bigger writing tablet. [I was using a miniature legal note pad in bed, and it was very difficult to write on it in a horizontal position.]

10. Squirt, the former runt of the kitty litter, but which is now the size of a small, prehistoric horse, is convinced that there is something outside the bedroom door that poses a slight danger. It is paranoid and has a vivid imagination.

11. I am a big fan of the art of Alberto Vargas. I have two of his works (this one and this one), from a 1944 edition of Esquire Magazine, framed and hanging on my wall. I have more of his works, too, but they are not hanging on the walls.

12. I really enjoy watching Desperate Housewives and also a new show called Grey's Anatomy. They were both on TV this evening. Another well done show is Eyes. Their producers have proven that TV shows can still get great critical reviews and huge audiences WITHOUT WOBBLING THE CAMERAS!

13. There are four separate bookshelves in my bedroom (and other bookshelves elsewhere). I am tired of looking at the same old books on them night after night. They have also been my biggest burden whenever I have moved. [There's that darned word, "burden," again.]

14. There was a time when I was saving those books -- in other words, I was taking my time in reading them -- because I didn't want to finish them all and have nothing left for the future. Silly, eh? Now I wish I had read all of them a long time ago because I doubt I will ever be able to drum up enough energy to read even twenty percent of them in the next twenty years. There are at least two reasons for this: 1.) I think I have permanently lost the desire to read most fiction, and 2.) my tastes have changed dramatically since I bought most of my books. I suppose I am going to have to sell most of them; but if I do so then my homemade bookshelves (which I will never sell) would suddenly look depressing and forlorn in their empty state.

15. Squirt has not taken his eyes off the bedroom door for almost a half hour now (and I think he was hiding under a footstool prior to that time). I guess I am going to have to carry him out there and show him that there is no danger.

16. I'm back. Squirt has now been made aware that the coast is clear.

17. I have on the back of my right hand a bruise shaped like a round washer (the kind of washer that goes with a bolt). I have no idea how it got there, even though it looks as if it probably hurt when it happened.

18. Check out nikib's diary. She has a very good sense of humor. DangerSpouse might like the first one listed below (including the revealing photo that is included :-). I found her by clicking on one of those gold-member DiaryLand ads. The seven entries listed here are just random samplings that I enjoyed reading. There are many, many more. BOOOOOOOOOOOBS 101 Things I Bet You Didn't Know My Armpits Really Smell, What Should I Do? A Power of an Hour Fight the Fuzz Old Wounds Department of the Alter-Ego

19. When I was in South Dakota, I met a young cousin (once removed) for the first time. One day, several of us were driving from my Aunt "Rory's" new house in town back to her farm house (helping her move possessions). This cousin was sitting in the front passenger seat, while I was sitting in the back seat behind the driver. When we were about half way back to the farm, I happened to be looking at him just as a certain realization slowly dawned upon him (he was looking forward, partially away from me). It was almost like watching a slow-motion scene in a movie. His face tilted upward ever so slightly, and his eyes widened just a little. My curiosity was piqued. He then turned his head slowly (almost dramatically, I thought) to look at me. He asked with a touch of awe, "Are you the one who wrote our family history?!" I nodded my head with a flattered smile and said proudly, "Yes, I am." For the first time in my life, I felt like a celebrity. :-)

20. Why are gas prices so criminally high now that there is a 50-50 chance that I could soon be free to travel the region looking for work and just generally exhaling a constant, "Whew!!!" as I enjoy the open road?

21. One of my fantasies is to visit the two little villages in the Czech Republic where my father's father's ancestors once lived. The villages' names are Habri and Kvitkovice. They are only a half mile apart and are about seven miles west of the city of Ceské Budejovice (pronounced "Chesky Buddah Yo Vizza," according to Ted Koppel), the birthplace of the original Budweiser Beer. Since I'm not fond of flying (or rather of the bad things that could happen while flying), I'll probably never go there. I would enjoy taking a good old-fashioned transAtlantic voyage, though. [I am amazed that the spell checker says that is the correct way to spell "transAtlantic."]

22. Very little in life excites me anymore, so I am having trouble thinking of "small" things to put into this list.

23. During the past year and a half, I had nothing but unpleasant news to report to my former coworkers/close friends at the school in which I used to work, so I never called them and seldom went back to visit them (a 50-mile drive). I guess I sort of went into an involuntary hibernation mode. They called me a lot in the beginning, asking me what the deal was. I asked them to be patient with me and that eventually things would return to normal; however, their calls slowly dwindled to zero anyway (even a married female coworker -- and good friend -- who propositioned me several times before and after I left has finally stopped calling). I'm sure they think I abandoned them, even though I told them a hundred times that such is not the case. Why didn't they believe me? They know me better than that.

24. I will be mailing my tax return tomorrow [Monday]. It was about as complicated as it could get without being one that a giant corporation fills out, but I did them myself anyway because I wasn't about to pay someone a fortune just to tell me I don't owe any taxes. The thing is, I majored in both English and history. Math and accounting are about as grating to my sanity as anything could be, but I made myself do it (last year and this year); and, in so doing, I discovered that the vast majority of Americans could do their own taxes if they just put their minds to it. If the majority of us did our own taxes, then maybe we would finally get angry enough to revolt against the busybody, loser bureaucrats and politicians who write those forms in such a ***king ridiculous and unnecessarily complicated manner.

25. That last entry was the last one I wrote before turning out the light and going to sleep last night. It is now Monday, and I am typing the rest of this entry without writing it in longhand first.

26. The north edge of the storm that left a foot of snow in Colorado this past weekend just barely grazed this area. Once again, the moisture has mostly missed this severely parched region.

27. Oh yeah, just so you know, I politely refused my married female coworker's propositions. There were several reasons for this, but if I give specifics, someone "out there" might realize who I am talking about. Believe it or not, another female coworker (and mutual friend of the two of us) thought I was crazy for refusing; nonetheless, she admired a couple of my ethical reasons for refusing. Not all of my reasons were ethical, though, and I am not a 100-percent pure saint, either.

28. Why oh why oh why do the women who fall for me always have stings attached? That became old news a long time ago. It's as if the entity who pulls our puppet strings is a sadist and enjoys teasing me.

29. Until a few months ago, I was doing 100 sit ups every morning. Then I got sick of it. This has happened several times over the years. I will do 100 sit ups for a year or so, then I will quit for six months to a year. Then I start up again. Sometimes I do 100 in the morning and another 100 at night. I'll probably start doing them again in the next month or two.

30. I used to have a stair-climbing exerciser, but I used it so much that a part in it broke. It broke the day I reached 1,007 steps in a single session. If fact, it broke on the 1,007th step. The company that makes this particular machine (Alpine Climber) went out of business, and it is next to impossible to get replacement parts. This machine was sheer torture, but it was the best exercise experience I have ever had. I can only imagine the excellent condition I would be in now if that machine was still in working order.

31. I have tried running, but I suffer from extremely painful shin splints, even when I am wearing expensive running shoes.

32. I have often dreamt of walking or riding a bike across my home state of South Dakota. That would keep my busy for a long time (I could also take thousands of photographs), and it would get me in great shape, too. There are reasons (weak excuses, rather) that such a dream is no longer feasible, though. I'm also not too eager to encounter that certain mosquito that "has my name on it," the one that is a carrier of the West Nile virus.

33. I forgot to say in a previous entry that my love of photography has mostly to do with chronicling moments in the lives and existences of people, places and things. I think of my images mostly in a historical sense. I'm not trying to be an avant-garde or abstract artist (or even an "artist" of any sort), although I do love preserving scenes of sheer natural beauty, too.

34. Speaking of sheer natural beauty, I was lucky enough to work with a nude female model once a few years ago. Words cannot describe...!

35. Believe it or not, she asked me. I didn't ask her.

36. I was so excited that I took the first 25 or 30 pictures before discovering that I had no film in the camera. I had never made such a mistake before, and it was very embarrassing (if she had only given me advance notice!). I then put film in the camera and gave it another go.

37. Oh, if only I had had a digital camera at that time!

38. I am almost certain that I will never get such an amazing opportunity again.

39. If I list too many things in this entry, I won't have any left for my next "list" entry.

40. As one of my old college friends used to say facetiously when he was on his way out the door, "Hey! Later days there, dude."

Sincerely, YouNameIt

What Stopped Me?

There is an "introductory" announcement somewhere in this message. Please don't stop reading too soon.

Aside from girls, photography was my biggest passion during junior-high, high-school and early college. I was a photographer on the annual staff during my senior year in high school. I took many basketball pictures for myself, and I even worked for the college newspaper for one semester as a freshman.

So what stopped me from pursing a photography career? Probably my lack of drive had a little to do with it; but a particular person seems to have sealed the deal. When I was a freshman in college, I took two photography classes (the only two offered). One day we had a guest speaker whose father was the owner of a local photography studio. This speaker had gone into business with his father after getting out of college. This "kid" was not much older than I. Before continuing, I must admit that the two or three studios in this town, including the speaker's studio, produced some of the finest landscape and studio photographs I had seen up to that time. This speaker knew how good he was, too, and he emanated conceit every time he opened his mouth. He was also condescending when replying to our (or at least my) questions. I had met such people many times before in this area, so that was no big deal. The difficulty came when he warned us (or me in particular?) not to get into the business if we weren't prepared to invest a lot of money in a photography major and later in the business itself. The implications were (I cannot remember if he said it out loud or not) that we should be really, really good photographers, even at that early age, or it would be pointless to pursue such an expensive career any further. That was easy for him to say, I thought. His father had done all of the heavy investing in order to start the studio that he was now working in (his college education was probably paid for by his father also).

Naturally, as a freshmen, I was not wealthy. I couldn't afford an expensive college. Furthermore, I figured I was not half as good a photographer as our conceited guest speaker. So, without actually making a conscious decision, I just slowly lost the will to pursue a career as a photographer (although the desire was still there). By that time, I had many irons in the career fire, anyway, so it didn't bother me too much to toss one of them out. What was one less career goal?

I didn't stop taking pictures, though. In fact, I took vast amounts of them year after year. I took them at home, at college basketball games, out in nature, etc. I don't know why I never tried harder to work for a newspaper or magazine, even without a degree in photography. I guess life just kept leading me in meaningless directions (like a tumbleweed blowing in the wind).

Then Came Digital Photography
A year and half ago, I bought my first digital camera, a 4MP Nikon CoolPix 4300. If only such cameras had existed when I was a freshman in college. My career path would almost certainly have been decided. For that matter, if only iMovie had existed then too... Sigh...

When I bought my camera, I was living all alone on that isolated ranch in Wyoming; therefore, my picture-taking opportunities were somewhat limited. The situation has been no better here in western Nebraska. For that reason, I have taken hundreds of pictures of nature and quite a few of cats. Why cats? Because they make great subjects, and they never protest. Most importantly of all, they were handy.

You Are Invited...
So, without further ado, I hereby cordially invite you to visit MY NEW FLICKR ACCOUNT (the link will always be in my sidebar). I've been intending to set one up for months, but, until this week, I wasn't in the mood to select and resize so many images (the originals are five or six times as large as those that appear on Flickr; however I had storage limitations to consider, etc.).

Be sure to click on the sets named "Sunrise Fog" and "Sunset at Scotts Bluff Monument." Also be sure to click on the various "tag" links. I created a lot of alternate sets by using tags. After clicking on each thumbnail, be sure to scroll down to the "Additional Information" section and click on "See different sizes." Then click on the "largest" option.

You may even find an image (a single image) that contains several different shots of yours truly. :-P

Not counting my photo, I hope you enjoy the show.

Twenty-Eight and a Half Things

I apologize for not having written for such a long time; however, if I force myself to write when I am not in the mood to do so, then the final result is often a pitiful thing to read. Since I have not been in the mood to write lately, I decided not to write because I didn't want to write something pitiful. That's quite a truism, eh?

I did make several feeble attempts to write something prior this entry because I miss corresponding with all of you, but I quit every time almost as soon as I started. Even now, as I write this, I am still not really in the mood to put my thoughts on paper, but my desire to say "Hi," is much stronger than my desire not to write.

Therefore, as Dr. Nick Riviera (The Simpsons) always says in his famous accent, "Hi, everybody!" :-)

In order to avoid writing something that is a pitiful thing to read (or at least I can partially disguise it if it is pitiful), I am going to use the list format. In other words, I will simply make a list of random things (28 and a half things, to be exact) that have happened since you last heard from me. These things may or may not have anything to do with one another, and they may or may not be the sort of things that lists are even made of (probably not); nonetheless, it's an easy way out, so...

without further ado, and in totally non-chronological order (with the exception of No. 1):

1.) I went to southeastern South Dakota (450 miles east-northeast of here) on March 1, and returned to western Nebraska on March 13. I have been very restless since my return, because I don't like being here (understatement). That is the main reason that I have not been in the mood to write anything. Is there anyone else out there who has ever felt (or still feels) this way after returning from a long trip?

2.) It was extremely refreshing to get away from this place where I have lived in virtual isolation for almost two years. Maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration, but it has certainly felt like isolation. Making the trip even better still was the fact that I was among relatives who treated me as if I was a cross between royalty and some long-lost best friend (yeah, I know; go figure :-). It had been quite a long time since I last visited their neck of the woods (so to speak), and they just went out of their way to make me feel at home. All told, I stayed with three different families (two cousins and an aunt and uncle) and visited briefly with others.

3.) It was also great simply to be back in my home state of South Dakota. It was my first real visit inside those borders in over four years. There is an aura that surrounds that state, at least in my very biased opinion, and I always feel very content whenever I am there, no matter what part of the state I am in and no matter what I am doing (lazing about or sweating profusely at some construction job).

4.) Now I am back in this place of exile again (western Nebraska), with its over abundance of not-so-sociable residents, and it has been tough trying to get back in the rut of things.

5.) All of my relatives tried to talk me into staying with them indefinitely (believe it or not) in order to visit, but also so that I could search for employment in that area. If I didn't have certain responsibilities here in Nebraska, as well as an aversion to living as a long-term guest in other people's homes, I might have considered accepting their invitations to stay on.

6.) On two different days during my trip, I helped Aunt "Rory" (not her real name) move her possessions from her farm to a newly constructed house in a town 35 miles away. Now that she is a widow, she will be auctioning her farm off in a couple of weeks. Note: I never address my relatives as "Aunt Emma," "Uncle Ralph" or "Cousin Bob." I am only doing that in this entry so that you can keep their identities straight.

7.) Oh yeah, and there is also one feeble excuse for my not having stayed indefinitely: I have some spoiled-rotten, overly devoted cats here in Nebraska who are completely lost if they are not following my every move. I didn't realize how badly I was spoiling them as they grew up (that is a mistake I will never make again). Anyway, I knew they were probably thinking their world had come to an end without their fearless leader to follow constantly.

8.) Cousin "Jill" (not her real name either) encouraged me to apply for work at a couple of different companies in that area of South Dakota. I did not take her advice, though. It is highly doubtful that they had any vacancies anyway; and the line of applicants waiting to fill the next vacancy probably stretches around the same block two or three times (these are not the reasons that I didn't apply; in fact, they didn't even occur to me at the time; I'm just saying that is probably the case).

9.) I took my new Epson Perfection 4180 scanner and my PowerBook laptop with me and scanned about 200 old family photographs during my visit. That soon became monotonous work, but my Aunt "Jean" was simply fascinated with the whole process. She frequently pulled a chair up beside mine to watch, even though I told her the actual scanning process is like watching paint dry. I added that the fun part is seeing the photos on the computer -- at 20 times their normal size and vividly clear -- once the scanning is completed. She was so fascinated with it that she started giving me piles of her favorite photographs to scan also.

10.) In spite of my "responsibilities" here in Nebraska, I might actually have considered applying for work at the places my cousin suggested; however, they only pay average to-less-than average hourly wages. Such wages used to be perfectly acceptable to me in more carefree times, but it just isn't practical to indulge in that sort of "luxury" anymore. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to move that far away just to take a relatively low-paying job and perform a task that probably reeks of tedium and meaninglessness. Been there, done that (figuratively speaking), and I don't want to be there and do that anymore -- unless I have no other choice. If it eventually turns out that I have no other choice, and if my responsibilities here have finally been taken care of permanently, I might consider "being there and doing that" again (in spite of my preferences).

11.) Cousin Jill half seriously suggested (several times) that I buy her poorly run hometown newspaper. For some reason, it didn't seem to matter to her that it isn't for sale.

12.) I spent several days staying at the farm home of Aunt "Jean" and Uncle "Albert" (not their real names, of course). They are both retired now. Albert endured some serious medical problems a few years ago and almost died. Since then, he has had an insatiable desire to enjoy life to the fullest. Prior to that time, he was a workaholic who had almost never taken any time to go on vacations or do other enjoyable things with his wife and children (when the children were still at home, that is). Now he and Jean (Jean is my dad's sister) travel frequently and enjoy one another's company more than any man and woman I've known in many years. I enjoyed staying with them for many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that Albert has a very dry sense of humor. In fact, it is so dry that I sometimes wonder if he realizes that he is being funny on some occasions. He also has a natural ability to make a person feel completely at ease around him. Not many people can do that.

13.) Temperatures hovered around 70 degrees on a couple of different days while I was there. Another day the wind gusted to almost 60 mph. Overall, though, it was dry (not a drop of snow) and luke cool.

14.) Cousin Jill owns a "spare" house in the country that she wants me to rent from her. She wouldn't quit trying to talk me into it. It is an unusual sight to behold. It is a 1950s-style house that was built in the 1980s by a man whose level of eccentricity was just one notch below the level at which they commit you to an asylum. At least that's how the story sounded to me, and I tend to believe it after seeing that house. It is as if he built each room separately and the two different stories separately, using completely different blueprints for each room and each floor. Then, whether they fit together or not, he bumped them up against one another, in a long, narrow trailer-house fashion, threw the second story on top, put siding on all of it and called it a house. It is built into the side of a hill, so that only the top level shows from the north side (the side facing the road). In spite of all of that, it is still a somewhat intriguing place. The view of the hilly yard and open fields through the three large picture windows is pretty impressive (believe it or not, all three of the windows are lined up on the same wall in the living room). Jill put a lot of money into remodeling it, so it looks much better than it did when the man sold it to her (or so I am told).

15.) Gas prices were as low as $1.89 per gallon during my trip and as high as $2.09, the latter price being in effect on the day I returned to Nebraska (naturally). I believe $2.09 is the most I have ever paid for a gallon of gas.

16.) Jill's "spare" house, the one that she wants to rent to me, is located A.) one-quarter of a mile from her mother, Rory's, farm (she is the one who is selling out and moving to town), B.) about three or four miles from the farm of Uncle Albert and Aunt Jean, C.) about fifteen miles from Jill's house, D.) about seven miles from another cousin's house (a daughter of Albert and Jean), and E.) and about fifty miles from Sioux Falls, SD (population 125,000 and growing out of control).

17.) After dreaming about it for years, I was also going to visit my own home town while I was in South Dakota (it is located about three hours west and slightly north of my relatives' residences), but I couldn't make myself do it. More on that at some other time, maybe.

18.) Cousin "Jill" bought an iMac G5 flat-panel computer. It was delivered to her door the same day that I arrived in South Dakota (March 1). Last December she asked for my advice in buying a new computer. Naturally, I told her to get an iMac. She insisted that she needed me to help her set it up when it arrived. I told her that she could do it herself in less than five minutes. She didn't believe me. I decided to use her request as the incentive I needed to make the long trip to her home. After my arrival, I made her set it up while I watched. She plugged in the mouse, keyboard, power and internet. That was it. She was done in less than five minutes and couldn't believe I had not been exaggerating (the entire computer is contained inside the flat screen). The high-speed internet worked without any setup required. She has been completely amazed that all was as great as I had promised.

19.) I ate in an iHop for the first time ever. I had the stuffed crepes, and they were very good.

20.) Albert and I drove around his farm one cold, windy day, so I could take pictures of his property from different angles with my digital camera. He said he had always wanted to do something like that, but had never taken the time until I volunteered to do it with him. We drove through fields of tall stubble using his new 2005 Doge Caravan. I cringed as I listened to the stubble scraping the vehicle. I kept telling him he shouldn't be scratching the paint just to drive me around, but he was convinced that there would be no scratches. I was relieved to discover that he was right.

21.) Cousin "Timothy" and his wife "Clarissa" live in Sioux Falls. He is a brother to Jill. There are three more sisters in the family, too, but I saw only one of them for a few minutes. Of the five, I have always been closest to Tim and Jill. At one time, Tim was the manager of one of the three top restaurant/lounges in Sioux Falls, and I was one of his bartenders. I stayed with Tim and Clarissa from Friday night to Monday morning, and returned for one more overnight visit a day or two later. Once again, I enjoyed myself immensely. On Sunday afternoon it was so nice that Tim and I sat on his back patio drinking beer. Not bad for eastern South Dakota in the winter.

22.). One evening, Cousin Jill, Aunt Rory, Aunt Jean and I were watching a slide show of old family photographs on Jill's new iMac (photographs that I had scanned in recent years and brought with me). At one point (we must have been looking at photographs of my dad while he was in the army -- stationed at Heidelberg, Germany), Aunt Rory said, and I am paraphrasing, "Isn't it just terrible that all of our boys are in Iraq dying for no good reason?" With that one comment, she proved to me that there are rural South Dakotans who are not blind followers of the Bush doctrine. It also goes to show that independent thinking runs in my family. :-)

23.) Amazingly, Cousin Tim, like his sister Jill, bought an iMac G5 while I was there (at a local Macintosh store). He did this so that I could help him choose the right one, as well as to get him started in the ways of the Mac once it was set up. I was totally amazed at this decision to buy one because he used to make fun of me for using Macs. I guess things are finally starting to look up, thanks in large part to the iPod (although that is not why Tim bought his new iMac).

24.) One evening, Uncle Albert and Aunt Jean were playing dominoes on one side of the dining-room table, while I was scanning photographs on the other side the same table. The evening news was on the TV in the background. President Gomer started to speak. I was suddenly in a dilemma. I refused to break my record of not listening to the sound of his voice; however, didn't have the remote control, and I couldn't very well plug my ears like a child in front of Albert and Jean. So I threw courtesy to the wind and bravely grabbed the remote control from its spot beside Albert. As I was reaching across the table, I smiled and said to both of them, "I hope you will forgive me for being so presumptuous [or something like that], but I simply have to mute your TV while Bush is speaking. I hope you won't be too offended." Jean replied, "We're not too fond of him either." That was the only political comment they made during my entire visit, and it was music to my ears.

25.) Uncle Albert is definitely not an elitist snob when it comes to wine. He buys cheap gallon jugs of the stuff, although he drinks only one or two half glasses a day, due to his health. As for me, his "honored" guest, he kept filling my glass with the stuff over and over, as if I was a wino. And I drank it as if I was a wino. :-)

26.) After I had helped to empty Uncle Albert's supply of wine over a period of days, we stopped at a liquor store in town (while helping Aunt Rory move). It was during our time in that store that he told me one of his "real" reasons for buying that particularly cheap brand of wine: "It has 20 percent alcohol." I laughed my head off. Finally, I had found someone who uses the same criteria when buying wine that I use. :-) 

27.) After buying the wine, Albert, Jean and I stopped at the local Wal-Mart to buy a couple of items (yes, I despise Wal-Mart). As we entered the store, I spied two young Mennonite or Hutterite women sitting in the restaurant section, complete with the old-fashioned clothing and white cloth caps on their heads (they were probably Hutterites). There are quite a few of them in eastern South Dakota. For those of you who do not know, Mennonites and Hutterites are somewhat like the Amish (in fact, they are all part of the same sect). Like the Amish, some of them still wear the old-fashioned clothing, but, unlike the Amish, they all have electricity in their homes, drive modern vehicles and use motorized tractors and other farming equipment. Some, like the two young women I saw, still live in separate old-fashioned communities, but most others live in regular communities among the population at large.

One of these young women was particularly pretty, and I was reluctant to walk on past without at least admiring her for a few seconds (discreetly, of course). Luckily, Albert helped me by going to the restroom, which is located in the restaurant. After I had walked on with Jean for a short distance, I returned to wait for Albert. Once again, I inspected the pretty one. Both of them were sitting with their backs to the main part of the store, but they had their heads turned and were watching the people passing by. The pretty one, who was in the best position to see me, started looking at me, seemingly as much as I was looking at her. I knew nothing could EVER happen between us though, even if she was, by the greatest stretch of the imagination, interested in me. I was just happy to be noticed by a woman who was different (more innocent?) from the women who inhabit the world I live in (boy what a pair we would have made, anyway! the modern radical spiritualist and the fanatically devout 19th-century woman :-).

I came up with two theories for what she and her friend might be thinking as they watched all the activity. 1.) They were simply aghast at the evil, decadent, worldly people passing so close to them, and they were praying that none of it would rub off on them. 2.) They were sitting there desperately hoping that some brave man would come along and rescue them from their bland, empty, overly strict lives. Was that pretty one watching me with either of those thoughts in mind? I preferred to imagine the second one. Most likely, though, they were just wishing they could be like everyone else for a while, instead of being like two kids sitting in a candy store and forbidden from ever eating any of it. When I pointed the pretty one out to my uncle, he was just as intrigued with her as I was.

28.) Aunt Jean let me use an ergonomic pillow while I stayed at her place (I cannot think of the actual name right now). I awoke with a very well rested head and neck. She gave me the pillow when I returned home.

28 1/2.) As I was brokering a deal for world peace, I...

P.S. - Eclectic music lovers, I highly recommend a great oldie that I heard for the first time three days ago. Its title: "Topsy II" by Cozy Cole (1958). I'm not too fond of most jazz music, although there are some notable exceptions, and "Topsy II" is definitely one of them. It does not fit the usual jazz stereotype. There is a lot of good old-fashioned music in it. Just wait until that long, outstanding drum solo begins about one-third of the way into the song (I absolutely love drums!).

Sincerely yours, You Name It

My Habits and Indulgences

Fallmode has requested that her readers follow in her footsteps and list their habits/addictions (this topic that was originally begun by Clarity25, at least in "this neck of the DiaryLand woods"). I found Fallmode's list to be quite entertaining.

Before continuing, I must confess that I have a big dislike for habits and addictions, especially those that are unhealthy and/or stereotypical in nature. To those of you who have unhealthy and/or stereotypical habits/addictions... No offense.

No, I'm not trying to be a squeaky-clean saint. No way. Not me. It's just that I grew up watching adults (seemingly every other one) selfishly indulging in bad habits as if there would be no tomorrow without them, and it was a major turn off. I just didn't want to be like them when I grew up.

Not all of the items in my list can actually be called habits, and none are blatantly unhealthy. Some are just regular routines or are favorite indulgences that I cannot avoid when they are placed in front of me. If they aren't in front of me, then I don't think of them (most of the time). Several of them may seem somewhat silly. I have decided to ignore the part of me that doesn't like looking silly... and publish them anyway.

As you are reading these and possibly thinking, "Nerd!" please keep in mind that I scored a 19 on the nerd test, meaning that I have very little nerd in me. :-)

Habits that came and went:

1. Eating ice - This was definitely a habit (but certainly not unhealthy or stereotypical). I first started eating ice in the very hot summer at the end of my 4th-grade year. I didn't just eat it out of a glass. I would actually get an ice tray out of the freezer every hour or two and eat a few of the ice chips. The colder the ice, the better. I loved it when it cracked in my mouth. This was an irregular habit, though. I would go a year or two without eating ice, then I would begin again for a few months or a year, then stop again for a year or two. I am no longer "addicted" to ice and have not been for quite some time.

2. When I was in grade school and early junior high, I started going to sleep with the sound of a fan running. This habit began during the same hot summer that I began eating ice. Besides the cooling effect of the blowing air, I was lulled to sleep by the white noise. It also drowned out the sound of the TV and of my parents talking in the living room. I outgrew it by the time I reached high school.

3. In about the seventh grade, I started listening to the radio all night long. I would keep at a barely audible level (above the sound of the fan, though), so that I felt as if I was imagining the music rather than really hearing it. If I had set the volume any louder than that, it would have kept me awake instead of lulling me to sleep. That being said, there were many times when a favorite song of mine would come on in the middle of the night. The familiar sound would wake me up, and I would lie there in total comfort and peace, listening until it ended. Amazingly, I was always able to fall asleep again fairly quickly afterward.

Continuing habits and indulgences:

4. Working on my Macintosh computer (writing, scanning photos, surfing the internet, etc.). - Using a Macintosh is like driving a Mercedes instead of a Windows cement mixer. They are simply so much fun to use that most Mac users find themselves making up reasons to "drive" somewhere just for the sheer pleasure of it.

5. Peanut butter cookies. - The only earthly cookie endorsed by the gods.

6. Eating breakfast - I cannot even conceive of starting my day without eating a bowl of cereal (or, every once in a while, a heavily sugared bowl of oatmeal with raisins and cinnamon). As for my favorite cereal, absolutely nothing beats Golden Grahams. I cannot get enough of them when they are in the house. Regrettably, they're too expensive to eat on a regular basis.

7. Showering in the morning - "A habit or an indulgence?" you ask. Yes! Definitely both a habit and an indulgence. That hot water performs amazing magic on my sleep-dulled senses. It dramatically increases my energy level. I can almost feel it washing away the negative "vibes" that have built up over the previous 24 hours. Oh yeah... My friends probably appreciate the "unintended" side effect of my lack of body odor, too.

8. Reading in bed every night before going to sleep - Since I was a very young boy (when comic books were my favorite reading material), I have read in bed before going to sleep. In fact, the only way I could fall asleep was to keep reading until the book dropped out of my hands. Now, for the first time in my life, this habit has suffered a major setback. For the past several months, I have been almost completely unable to read in bed (or anywhere else either). Instead, I lie there and stare at the several hundred books on my bookshelves (they line the walls of my bedroom) and try to figure out which one looks even slightly intriguing. Thus far, none of them have. Because of this, I end up just lying there, staring at them (and the ceiling and the walls) until I cannot hold my eyes open anymore (this quasi-meditative state is almost comforting in its own way). On the rare occasions that I have tried to read, I usually had to give up after only a few pages, and I wouldn't bother with that book anymore. I sincerely hope this is just a passing phase.

9. Cursing the majority of other drivers - This is completely justifiable behavior in this region because most drivers here are long past the age of retirement, and they all drive with an attitude that clearly says, "I am your elder. I have earned the right to be self-centered, selfish and oblivious, and you have to respect me for it -- as you tag along behind me at 25 mph in a 45-mph zone." When these elderly drivers pull out in front of you, they are completely unconcerned with the fact that they are going to be holding up a long line of traffic (and around here it is their evil goal ALWAYS to pull out in front of you, even if you are the only other driver for a mile in either direction).

10. Muting Bush - Very strictly kept GOOD habit - For several years now, I have muted the TV news whenever there is even a hint that President Bush is going to speak -- even if it is only for a few seconds. His twangy voice, his obvious lies (including sins of omission), his smugness, his juvenile obnoxiousness, his incoherent speaking style and his self-righteousness drive me insane (notwithstanding his secretly taped admission that he used drugs in his youth). Believe it or not, I just now muted him while writing this paragraph because CNN is running a clip of him speaking in Brussels, Belgium. He will soon be within earshot of Clarity and Eric in Germany, relatively speaking.

11. Sometimes I talk too much when in the presence of others, especially if I am in a hurry or nervous.

12. Not being serious when visiting with others. This only happens in person, not when I am writing to them.

13. Sneaking out of a bar or house party whenever I am with a group of friends. My friends frequently try to talk me out of going home if I announce my intentions to them; so I have learned to keep my intentions a secret. I eventually just sneak out the back door after going to the restroom. It is also possible that I occasionally sneak out in order to avoid the possibility that they won't care if I am leaving. :-)

That's it. It was a struggle to come up with that many. I guess people's habits are more noticeable to those who live and work with them every day. However, I'm sure very few of us would allow someone else to list our habits for the whole world to read. N'est pas?

Those Runamok Dreams

On Valentine's night, I had a very strange "erotic" dream that started out promisingly enough, but then fell completely apart, as usual. Why do my dreams always have to fall apart? Theoretically, it is my own imagination that is fueling my dreams, so why do I do that to myself? I have always had a vivid waking imagination that has never taken ridiculous or unpleasant detours. Why is it, then, always doing so when I am asleep?

Or is it possible that my subconscious, sleeping self is really separate from my conscious, waking self? And, even worse, my subconscious, sleeping self despises my conscious, waking self (for any number of valid reasons)? Is my subconscious self, therefore, determined to stick it to my conscious self by teasing it with the promise of good dreams every night and then ruining them just when they are starting to get good? The evidence overwhelmingly supports that theory.

As I was saying, I had a very strange "erotic" dream on Valentine's night. It was also, literally, the most "clinical" erotic dream I had ever had. For some unknown reason, I found myself in an actual sex seminar, something like one might see on a low-budget HBO or Showtime "documentary." I'm sure there were other men there, but I only remember about five or six women and myself (which was fine by me). As the dream began, the female instructor was pointing to and describing the more exciting and popular parts of the female anatomy, using several different seminar attendees as her subjects. These female attendees also happily allowed a hands-on inspection by those of us who were not willing to take the instructor's word for it. ;-)

For the short period of time that this part of the dream lasted, it seemed to hold great promise; nonetheless, it was a bit too clinical for me. Unlike the stereotypical men of the world, I'm a big fan of intimacy. While sex without intimacy is all kinds of fun while it is happening, the aftermath is surprisingly depressing. Don't get me wrong, though. I would gladly have suffered the depression by registering for several more such seminars if my dream had lasted longer -- and had not gone in the wrong direction. It's just that I would prefer to have a dream encounter with a woman I love, even if I am not exactly sure who she was once I wake up.

Brief, Seemingly Irrelevant Departure from the Dream Story

This past Friday evening I watched "Dateline NBC" (normally, I cannot stand watching that sort of program). The story revolved around five or six people who were determined to lose weight before they went to their high-school reunion. When they finally attended the reunion, many months later and many pounds lighter, they all sat at a table together and were admired by all of their old classmates. I'm definitely not overweight, but I enjoyed the show, nonetheless.

Back to the Dream Story

While I was "inspecting" yet another naked female seminar attendee :-), a third naked woman began styling my hair. I remember the instructor explaining in the background that this was part of what we were supposed to experience. I certainly wasn't fond of the idea, and, if I had not been distracted by all those wonderful naked women, I would have had the presence of mind to make her stop. [Question: What the hell kind of a meaningless twist is this to have in a sex dream, anyway?]

Just as my naked "beautician" was half finished with my hair (so that I resembled a cross between Cosmo Kramer and Brittany Spears), and just as I was beginning to analyze more thoroughly the intricacies of the female specimen in front of me, the dream switched locations. Suddenly, all of us sex-seminar attendees were sitting together at MY high-school reunion! We were on display for everyone to see (although, thankfully -- and oddly enough, considering it was a dream -- we had our clothes on)! But I still had that ridiculous, half-finished hair style!

Why?!!

It was bad enough that all those wonderfully naked women were now clothed and back to normal, but this new situation only added insult to injury.

At first, I walked around the back of the room, embarrassed beyond words that my old classmates would be thinking all sorts of untrue things about me, so I avoided eye contact with them. I kept wanting to run out of the building and head for the hills, but I couldn't make myself do it (typical dream behavior, eh?). The other seminar attendees seemed not to be bothered by these new circumstances at all. Of course, this wasn't their reunion, so what did they care?

I felt completely trapped in this dream, which is unusual for me, because I am usually conscious enough to realize when I am dreaming. This awareness frequently allows me to wake myself up from bad dreams that are clearly unrealistic. This dream wasn't unrealistic enough, though (in other words, no monsters or other scary beings to make me skeptical of the reality of the situation), so it took a short while longer for me to break free and wake up. When I did, I was incredibly relieved that the reunion had not been real.

A Slightly Tangential Conclusion

While writing this entry, I had a wild idea for the future: When is Apple going to invent the "iDreamPod"? In using such a device, we would be able to select a different series of dreams every night from a large dream library, clamp the "electrode buds" onto our temples and drift off... We could even create customized "dreamlists." Apple would be so confident of their device's abilities that they would offer a 100% money-back guarantee to any dreamer whose dream is hijacked by his own obnoxious subconscious, or who wakes up before his or her dream session is finished (with exceptions for real-world interruptions, such as spouses elbowing you in the eye, phone calls, natural disasters, alarm clocks, etc.). In fact, people could even get on the internet and share homemade personal dream files with one another (but NOT anonymously!). Naturally, the new professional dream-making industry would also get in on the act by selling a wide variety of professionally produced dreams via Apple's online iDreams Store. A weekly "Top-40 Dreams" list would be prominently advertised. In the tradition of yoga and meditation, certain "new age" dreamlists could even be used to instill a sense of peace, well being and/or purpose in people who need that sort of nightly boost.

Wouldn't that be fun?

Furthermore, with Apple in charge, there would also be no fear (at least among Macintosh users) that malicious hackers would ever succeed in hijacking our dreams with something like "Bride of Chucky" or "Freddy Kruger" dream viruses.

Remember, you heard it here first, folks. Those of you who know my real identity will vouch for me if some thief tries to steal my idea. Right? :-)

Sincerely, MJW (YouNameIt)