Save the Sheep

NEW HOME FOR MY BLOG!

2006-11-27T13:59:00.000-08:00

Go here for my new blog. I no longer will be posting here.

Do You Think His Tractor is Sexy?

2006-11-26T20:11:00.000-08:00

Does it really turn you on, while he's chug-chug-chuggin' along?
Rick finally got his machine, a 1950 Ford 8N. A classic tractor. It needs some paint, but it's got a rebuilt motor and a bunch of other new stuff. He's putting a new coil in it now as it hasn't wanted to start very well, so he should be back to work real soon moving manure piles.

Aw, Shit

2006-11-01T13:20:00.000-08:00

Some weird, scrawny European woman parked at the side of the road decided to make a left turn right in front of me (and then stop in the middle of the road) on Monday as I was on my way to have sushi. Nobody gets between me and sushi. ARGH!
The first words out of her mouth: "I made an illegal U-turn, and I don't have insurance. Please let me pay you. I have money. Please don't call the police."
She was completely over-reacting over the relatively minor amount of damage and no injuries. Both cars still were drivable.
So I called 9-1-1. Four attempts later (thanks, Verizon) I finally got through ... to Bakersfield CHP. Luckily, a neighbor who heard the crash also had called.
The woman was acting so strangely, shaking and even grabbed my arm while I was attempting to call the cops, hoping to pull the phone from my ear. This is when I got back in my car, locked the door and plugged in the phone, as it said "very low battery," even though I had three battery bars. (Piece of shit phone!)
I tried to call Ricky, and of course the call wouldn't go through after several tries. Shit. I was on my way to meet our friend Dave at the sushi place, so I tried to call him. Luckily I got through on Try 2, told him I'd been in a wreck, and could he maybe come help me out, because I didn't know what this strange woman was going to pull. (It helps to have friends who are about 6'5" and have a booming voice. Tee hee.) When he arrived, I used his phone (must ask who the provider is) to get call through to Ricky and let him know what happened and that I was OK.
I hit her pretty hard, and still can't believe my air bag didn't deploy. Toyotas take a great hit!
Oh, her car: It was a Honda, maybe 6-10 years old, and had dents on practically every square inch. I wasn't even sure at first which one I had made.
My damage doesn't look that bad, but I'll bet it's at least $4,000 worth because the front unipanel is messed up, and the hood is crooked.
I have to wait a few weeks to hear the results from the police report. The cop (who got there about an hour later) was very nice. I whispered to him that she was acting weird and said she didn't have insurance. She did, however, appear to provide him proof of coverage, although he raised an eyebrow at it and said, "This doesn't look much like a new car." There was a temporary registration taped to her windshield.
I gave him my side of the story and he asked me to leave so he could talk to her. I have no idea what she said about me.
So, I'll get my car to the shop and will let you know what the damage was. Sigh. At least nobody got hurt.

Best Halloween Costume Ever

2006-11-01T13:15:00.000-08:00

Matt, you are brilliant.

Visited Again

2006-10-16T10:41:00.000-07:00

I love weird things.
Yesterday, Ricky and I were taking a break, sitting in front of the TV about to fall into a Sunday nap, and he says, "Say hi to Dad."
Huh?
Then I smelled the scent of a cigarette that just has been lit. Neither one of us smoke, and neither did the original owners of the home.
Call us crazy, but this happens a few times a year. We choose to believe.
Before the smoke smell came, I already had thought my right side was feeling cold but it was plenty warm in the house. I was sitting to Ricky's left and lifted my right arm to show him the goosepimples. He got out of his chair and stood in the cold spot. Freaky!

Phelan Rodeo

2006-10-07T22:33:00.000-07:00

We went to the Phelan rodeo today and put this together for you to enjoy. It was a surprisingly good rodeo, too. There's a fun act with a father and daughter -- he rides a steer and it does tricks, and the little girl rides miniature horses. He just found out he's going to perform at the NFR this year, so look out for him in December on ESPN (if they show it.)

Addicted to "Little People, Big World"

2006-10-07T21:13:00.000-07:00

Can't get enough of this show. And the dad is a hottie: like a mix of Richard Gere and Bill Clinton. He also was described as "A scaled-down Robert De Niro or Tony Curtis, smaller than life" on a Web site I found. What a great head of gray hair. Yummy! The pix I found on the Net sucked. You'll just have to watch the show.

We ... Are ... The 80s

2006-10-02T00:43:00.000-07:00

Oh, gawd. The 80s are back in a big way. I saw it coming when leggings appeared a couple years ago at a Paris fashion show. I guess it was inevitable. And now "skinny jeans" are what we're supposed to be wearing. What about big hair? I still see a lot of Farrah hair out there, but I think I'm detecting the faint odor of perm solution and hair spray. (Note to self: Buy stock in Aqua Net.)
I loved my big hair. The photo is from 1986. I was 16. The same guy who sometimes did Paul Stanley's hair cut my hair, too. Hurley at Hair Pirates in Altadena. He had perfect wavy rocker hair down to his ass. Awesome.
I would save up my money for months to get my hair cut there. Back then, it was around $50 for a basic hair cut with no styling. I think my first job paid around $3.25 an hour. Ah, priorities.
I spent hours getting maximum height out of my mane, and if you touched the top of my hair it would make a CRUNCH sound. I had to shampoo three times to get all the goo out. I would hold down the button of my hair spray for a minimum of 30 seconds at a time.
Global warming? Yeah, that was me. Sorry about that.
Gosh, what else about the 80s? The music was nowhere near as good as the 70s, but it was OK. I got to attend several heavy metal concerts. Kiss, Ozzie, Metallica. I also hung out with a number of musicians who had dreams of making it big someday. I even took up the bass for a little while, until I got tendonitis so bad I hardly could hold the thing anymore. Of course I now wish I had toughed it out. Chicks who could plunk out a beat on the bass were pretty much guaranteed a spot in any garage band.
Recently, Ricky bought me a Judas Priest CD. It's really interesting to listen to the lyrics now that we know what Rob Halford was really singing about. Awesome.
The cars then were kind of ugly. Not too many classic 80s cars, except perhaps the Corvette. I drove a 1982 Chevy Cavalier my aunt gave me. The first car that was all mine. I loved it, although it went zero to 60 in ... about a fortnight.
Well, here's to the 80s. May your stirrup pants not ride down your ass and your hair never go flat.

Extreme Makeover, Do-It-Yourself Edition

2006-09-29T12:33:00.000-07:00

I recently was accused of having a mid-life crisis.
Those who know me might think I'm acting a little more strange than usual. Wearing makeup. Being flirty. Socializing. Getting it on more with the old man (OK, tmi.)
But I'm going to let you in on what I've been going through for years: depression.
Some of this is going to sound odd, but that's OK. It all seems odd to me, too.
I met a spiritual/energy healer in 2002. I visit him roughly 2-3 times a year. He has enabled me to get off all my prescription medications (especially the evil Effexor) and get my body working better. I have 75 percent fewer aches and pains. I've slowly lost weight and have kept it off.
He helps get my energy/chi/whateveryouwannacallit going in the right direction, and he tells me things about my life that I need to keep an eye out for. And I've experienced some things that make me think this is more than just a parlor trick. Actually, I don't care what it is ... he has been an interesting and a very positive presence in my life.
It's all very new-agey "Woman, Heal Thyself" kind of stuff.
When I met him, he said I had a lot of anger inside and that I was not in balance with my male and female selves. This was the cause of my depression, which manifested in sleeping too much and generally not doing much at all. No passion about what I did, just going through the motions. And not letting myself enjoy life when things were good (which they've been pretty much all along.)
With an awful lot of work on my part, he said I'd know when I had moved toward balance and again gotten in touch with my female self. (Get your mind out of the gutter.) He says I've been a tomboy (for lack of a better term) since I was young. Not like gay/tomboy, but just un-feminine. I suppose he was spot on: I hated dolls, dresses, other little girls. When I got my period, I tried to hide it. As a child, a lot of my friends were boys, and then I had lots of boyfriends (and the drama really began!) I got a little crazy when I was in my teens and honestly overdid the makeup, the hair, etc. I had no idea what I was doing with all that womanpower. Luckily, I survived relatively unscathed and settled down with a saint.
But I've fallen back into tomboy mode and have really let myself go. The I'll-just-throw-on-a-ballcap-and-be-out-the-door kind of letting go. Can't say I've felt all that attractive in many years. Ricky constantly has told me I am, but he'd usually get a "you're nuts" look from me.
I'm still trying to sort out the "why" of the tomboy thing, but I think it could have something to do with my observations of women and society. Since I was about 3, I've had a strong sense of justice and couldn't understand why I had to be different, act different, look different than my brothers. A born feminist. Yoikes.
Not sure when the tide turned but for the first time in my life I began to like myself, what I've become, who I will become. I'm finally, hallelujah, moving toward being centered. And others seemed to have noticed that I'm more comfortable in my skin. People come up and talk to me now. Before, they seemed to be afraid of me. (Gee, coulda been the permanent scowl.) I smile more. I look people in the eye more. I'm also the one who says "Hi, how are you?" first now.
So, after I've figured out how to put on makeup again, why not be a HOT feminist, right?
I'm growing my hair long again. I want babe hair, dammit. I'm going to have babe hair when I'm an old woman, too. I want to look better in my 40s than I did in my 20s. You know, a MILF with no kids.
Oh, I'm still definitely me. Don't intend to change THAT much.
I'm still the earthy chick who can belch with the best of 'em.
"I am woman, hear me (buuuuuuuuuurp) roar. "

Something smells gooooood

2006-09-11T10:57:00.000-07:00

After watching this, and having a 40-year-old friend tell me about how her stash was discovered by her husband, I've been reminiscing about my smoking days. I haven't touched the stuff in about 15 years and don't intend to again (I like clarity), but I won't deny I have fond memories.
Well, except for the time I accepted an offering from a guy on the beach during my wild-to-mild teenage years and surprise! the stuff wasn't very "natural." I wound up in the ER freaking out while the cops looked for the dude, who was a dead-ringer for Anthony Kiedis. Still not sure exactly what was in that funny cigarette, but let's just say I took a trip to another planet for a couple hours. That, however, is a story for another day.
Ricky never has touched it and probably never will. He probably fears he would really like it and prefers not to get started on it!
I've had friends who have used it for various medicinal purposes and it's really a helpful substance. I can't say I've known any belligerent smokers, but I've known plenty of belligerent drinkers. It's too bad it has that "gateway" reputation, which I feel is not totally deserved. The people who get into the hardcore stuff still would be addicts even if the plant never existed.
My first memories of it are of sitting around with Jay, a friend in high school, who always was very kind to me and never tried to get in my pants. He was one of those guys I really trusted, and probably would have dated him if he had ever made a move. We did, however, talk for hours about life in general, and shared a smoke now and then. Once we were left cracking up over a garden hose. That's right, I almost peed myself over a garden hose. The adventure also was free as he grew the stuff himself on his roof behind a fence that surrounded the A/C unit. His family either didn't know about it, or didn't care. His mother was sick and blind from diabetes; his dad was a far-gone alcoholic; and his sister was a slutty cheerleader who was into far more dangerous substances. She really changed my perception of what it meant to be one of the "popular kids."
I don't know what happened to Jay, but I hope he turned out OK. Addiciton obviously ran in his family. He seemed to be the only one in his family to have their head screwed on correctly. I hope he got the hell out of there and made a life for himself.
It's funny the people you run into who partake of the herb, and some that are seemingly extremely unlikey users. I had a boss who lived near work and would go home a couple times a night to "check on his dog." I think the stuff probably kept his sanity as he could tend to get very nervous. Not paranoid nervous, just high-strung and worried about doing a good job. You'd never in a million years would guess he was a smoker. He looked more like a banker.
I like to study people who've been doing this stuff for long periods of time, just to see what happens to them. I've heard how it destroys the brain and causes other health problems, but I don't know. It would depend on what else might be in there. But just the plant alone in its natural form, I don't see any evidence from my observations that it does lasting harm.
Yep, it's funny stuff. There are tons of studies out there to read about and it's finally getting some serious attention among mainstream medicine. It just comes down to the politics of the stuff, unfortunately.

Bionic Mom

2006-09-11T10:23:00.000-07:00

My mom had her hip completely replaced after breaking it yesterday while walking her dog. A neighor's dog got loose and her little corgi mix tried to protect her but she fell and got hurt in the process. I just got off the phone with her and she's got push-button morphine. The pain must be incredible. The physical therapist is going to have her standing today. This is normal, though. The Mayo Clinic site says she should be able to resume normal albeit somewhat limited activities in six weeks. No more aerobics, pilates and yoga for her, but now water exercise and lots of walking. I read that cross-country skiing even is a good exercise for people with new parts. This is something she's wanted to do, so maybe ...
It's odd the thing with the dogs. We have a dog that was given to us after a friend's mom had almost the exact same thing happen to her. The dog has good walking manners but something got her hackles up and caused a wreck.

Gay Rodeo

2006-08-07T13:12:00.000-07:00

I went to the gay rodeo yesterday in Burbank. What a blast! It was one huge party. Most of the people were outside the arena having a great time. There was a big dance floor, LOTS of booze, many things to see and do -- even drag queen bingo.
Yep. Some really great eye candy. I could have just sat there and watched half naked buff guys getting drunk and being silly all day. And since they were interested in each other, us ladies could just sit and stare all we wanted without a care or an ounce of guilt. Lovely, lovely. Plus the guys seemed to enjoy being watched.
A win-win situation.
I also met some guys who sell "bear wear" ... one was a leather biker guy with a handlebar mustache. The real life Big Gay Al. I loved this guy. I wanted to buy him a beer.
I got Ricky a T-shirt with a reclining bear on it. If he were gay, he might be a bear, or perhaps an otter (because he's not hairy.)
Also lots of older couples, holding hands and simply enjoying each other's company. Some had kids with them. It felt really good to be alive in a time where people can do this. There's still a lot of fear in the world, but it's getting better all the time. It wasn't that long ago, when I was growing up, a couple might have the shit kicked out of them for holding hands in public.
Even a Catholic church had a booth there. A number of parishes are trying really hard to reach out to the gay community. Now THAT is something I never would have thought I would see in my lifetime. Sure, these are independent parishes, but there were no officals from the Diocese there shaking a finger at them. Amazing. Remarkable.
The rodeo itself? An afterthought, really. Not terribly organized. Some silly events, and amateur rough stock riders trying their best out there to win $50 and a buckle. But to me, that's a genuine rodeo. People sharing something they love, and not trying to win a pile of money ... or even glory, really. Just a great time. The PRCA could learn a lot watching these cowboys and cowgirls doing their thing.

earworm earworm earworm

2006-06-23T02:44:00.000-07:00

I don't care if it rains of freezes
Long as I got my Plastic Jesus
Riding on the dashboard of my car
Through my trials and tribulations
And my travels through the nations
With my Plastic Jesus I'll go far
Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car
I'm afraid
He'll have to go
His magnets ruin my radio
And if I have a wreck
He'll leave a scar.
Riding down a thoroughfare
With His nose up in the air,
A wreck may be ahead,
but He don't mind.
Trouble coming
He don't see,
He just keeps His eye on me
And any other thing that lies behind.
Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car ...
Though the sunshine on His back
Make Him peel, chip and crack,
A little patching keeps Him up to par.
When I'm in a traffic jam
He don't care if I say "damn"
I can let all my curses roll
Plastic Jesus doesn't hear
'Cause he has a plastic ear
The man who invented plastic saved my soul.
Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car ...
Once His robe was snowy white,
Now it isn't quite so bright -
Stained by the smoke of my cigar.
If I weave around at night,
And policemen think I'm tight,
They never find my bottle - though they ask.
Plastic Jesus shelters me,
For His head comes off, you see
He's hollow, and I use Him for a flask.
Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus,
Riding on the dashboard of my car ...
Ride with me and have a dram
Of the blood of the Lamb -
Plastic Jesus is a holy bar.

Divine!

2006-06-22T11:19:00.000-07:00

I didn't know Divine made a video. So nice to see my favorite drag queen in action. I miss her so much! Somehow I got through life without knowing there's a bunch of Divine music out there. It's crummy Casio dance music, but I don't care. I still love it. I'm download some right now! GAWD IT'S BAD! Excellent ...

I Finally Know What I Am (Politically, That Is)

2006-06-10T21:41:00.000-07:00

All this time I thought I was a Libertarian, but no ... it turns out I'm a "South Park" Republican.
I found the link after reading a great quote about all the crap over Anne Coulter's comments. This sums it up so damn nicely:
"The problem with Coulter is that she is a form of camp, is she not? The minute you take her seriously, you lose grip on her reality. She's not a social or political commentator. She's a drag queen impersonating a fascist. I don't even begin to believe she actually believes this stuff. It's post-modern performance-art."
--Commentator Andrew Sullivan (who is identified as a "South Park" Republican)

Shoot me now

2006-05-24T11:57:00.000-07:00

It's graduation time again. Oh, goodie. My disdain for commencement ceremonies comes from two sources: Having been deeply involved in the planning and execution of such ceremonies while working in a college public relations office; and being in the newspaper business. Try to write (or supervise the writing of) interesting and non-cliche headlines for dozens of graduation stories over the course of about three weeks. Just replace the names of the schools and the students, and you are reading the same story over and over. It's torture. Completely inhumane. Luckily, I think, I'll be working the wires for much of this graduation season.
But I did come across something very cool today. This kid is my new hero. Maybe the kids in our coverage area will get the same idea. Read it here.

Naughty Wednesday

2006-05-24T11:54:00.000-07:00

Damn, it's Wednesday already. OK, try this.

Dan Brown Sucks

2006-05-22T20:28:00.000-07:00

This about sums it up. I tried to read Brown's earlier work, "Angels and Demons," and it was so horrible I couldn't finish. He's a terrible writer.
http://www.palmbeachpost.com/search/content/entertainment/arts_entertainment/epaper/2006/05/21/a1j_davinci_0521.html

Lord, I apologize ...

2006-05-17T11:40:00.000-07:00

OK. I'm really sorry about that big balls post (see below.) This will totally make up for it. Completely safe for work. In fact, have everyone gather around.
GO HERE

Naughty Wednesday

2006-05-17T00:37:00.000-07:00

OK. This one is really really gross, yet an interesting study of human sexual behavior.
So, we all know about those pump devices men (and some women, it turns out) use to make themselves look bigger. What I didn't know is that there's a subset of men who use the pump on their testicles -- sometimes achieving alarmingly huge proportions! There exists an Internet chatboard of these pumpers, many of which post pictures of their, um, results ... some of which probably should have received medical attention.
WARNING: NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART! These images are extremely explicit and often completely unappetizing. And, as always, not safe for work.
Here is the link ... remember, I warned you!!!

Car Wash Asshole

2006-05-16T12:05:00.000-07:00

I went on one of my rare trips to the car wash yesterday. Why is it that every time I go, there's always at least one white man, usually in his 20s-40s, who has to stand next to his SUV or 4WD lifted truck, and point at spots on the vehicle where he thinks the (usually) Mexican guy with the towels hasn't done a good enough job of wiping off? And then there's almost always no tip given. I know because I watch closely when it's time for the exchange.
Oh, and then Mr. Whiteman has to get into his vehicle and get his mirrors just right and see if everything is still where it belongs. You never know when the Mexican is going to steal the change out of your ashtray.
I guess if you have issues with your small dick, you get to be a big dick.

Drink a Big Stick

2006-05-16T12:01:00.000-07:00

We discovered a while ago that if you mix Kool-Aid Fruit Punch mix and Gatorade Lemon-Lime mix (both presweetened) that you get something that tastes a lot like a Big Stick popsicle. Use slightly more Gatorade than Kool-Aid for tart, or opposite for more sweet.
You also can mix it really strong and put it in a blender with a ton of ice and make a Big Stick slushie.
Add some tequila, and you've got a Big Stick margarita.
ENJOY!

Growing up in the 1970s

2006-05-11T22:24:00.000-07:00

I recently saw one of those "do you remember" things on the Net, targeted at girls who grew up in the 1970s. (Although lots of these creep into the 1980s):
"Did you own a bicycle with a banana seat and a plastic basket with flowers on it?"
Yes. It had training wheels for the first couple of weeks and there's a Super 8 movie somewhere of me riding it on Christmas morning.
"Did you think Gopher from Love Boat was cute?"
Yes, I did. Now he's an asshat politician.
"Did you wear a poncho, gauchos, and knickers?"
Yes. Yes. And yes. Cordouroy knickers to be exact.
"Did you beg Santa for the electronic game Simon? Did you get it?"
Not exactly. I wanted Simon really bad but it was too expensive ($35 I think?) ... so after the craze was just about over, I got a generic "Simon" game. By then it was no big deal.
"Did you have homemade ribbon barrettes in every imaginable color?"
Yes. I wore them so much they were dingey and rusty but I didn't care.
"Did you want to be Laura Ingalls Wilder really bad?"
Yup. She got to ride horses and that was cool. I read all the "Little House" books, too.
"Did you want your first kiss to be at a roller rink?"
I don't remember. My first kiss was when I was 11. Travis Ruffet. Funny looking red-headed kid. It was in the dark on my back porch and it was kind of yucky. He had braces. Blech. It was more of a "let's get it over with" kind of thing.
"Was your hairstyle described as having "wings" or "feathers"?
Feathers, but I didn't get my "feather" haircut until I was about 12. I was totally behind the curve on that one. Until then, I had waist-length straight stringy hair, no bangs, that was parted down the middle and held back with barretts. I wore them so much I had bumps on my scalp.
"Was it a big event in your household each year when the "Wizard of Oz" would come on TV?"
Yup. My mom would talk about how she had wanted to make costumes for the movies when she was younger. Wish she had followed her bliss.
"Did you make Shrinky-Dinks and put iron-on kittens on your T-shirts?"
Shrinky-Dinks -- yes. I think my mom did some iron-on stuff, but I can't remember what it was.
"Did you used to tape-record songs off the radio by holding your portable tape player up to the speaker?"
Hell yes. "Eye of the Tiger" was very popular at the time.
"Did you read Tiger Beat?"
Yup. Especially if Adam Ant was in the issue. I also liked C. Thomas Howell and Matt Dillon. OMG. I WAS a geek!
"Did you think Olivia Newton John's song "Physical" was about aerobics?"
Uh huh.
-----
I also made those lanyard things, where you wove different colors of thin plastic strips into key chains. My oldest brother worked for the recreation department and he sold the plasticy stuff by the foot to us kids after school.
I was a weird, nerdy loner kid (still am!) who liked to draw and spend time alone with my pets (then a dog, a cat and a rat).
I also took one riding lesson a week starting at age 10 or 11. The lessons were at a kind of crappy stable, but I was THRILLED to be able to ride. Then I got stupid and thought boys were cooler than horses. I finally pulled my head out of my ass and started riding again.
I didn't like the other kids much because I always was being teased for not wearing the "right" clothes -- like Izod polo shirts or Jordashe jeans. I knew kids so rich that they NEVER wore the same outfit twice in a school year.
The few friends I did have -- like Robin, and later Shannon -- we would play horsie by giving each other piggy-back rides over jump courses we made out of anything we could find ... brooms, cinder blocks, you name it. (Oooh ... sounds like something from "Girls Gone Wild," doesn't it?) I think that's why I have a bad back today!

Magic Man

2006-05-10T00:58:00.000-07:00

OMG. This sounds like someone's eulogy or something. It's just a love letter of sorts, so don't get all worried!
---------
My other half for the past five and a half years has been doing all sorts of creative things at work with technology. It was only tonight that I finally got to see a compilation disk of some of the projects he's done over the years. There was one I even did some voice work for (that was a blast, btw). But it's funny that all this time I have seen very few of his finished projects. I've heard all about them.
What a treat it was! There were about a dozen short films and animations that he wrote, produced, directed, animated, coded, voiced, acted and/or filmed, all with little or no budget, but with great help from equally talented colleagues. What an impressive, diverse group of people. (I wonder if he's aware of what a great job he has?)
I've always been proud of him, but this time I was really blown away. Sure he has had some tough times, but stepping back to watch his work shows that all the commuting and the long days have a purpose. He's leaving behind something memorable, and making people smile along the way. Most of us don't get to leave a mark like that in the workplace.
Lately, he's been writing technical documents for his company. Not exactly his cup of tea, I'm sure, but there hasn't been anything he has said "no" to, even if it was something completely new to him. (I wish I were that brave.) In fact, he usually masters whatever it was he was so concerned about being able to do.
We are very different people in the respect that he'll jump into a lake without knowing how deep it is. I'd rather go in slowly, all the while holding on to the pier. I like my often boring/routine/predictable job. If he had to do my job, he'd probably go insane. Were I in his shoes, I'd probably implode from having to come up with new ideas every day.
At home, he's been teaching people horsemanship for the past couple of years. He's as gifted a teacher as he is an artist. He's got a natural gift for breaking it down and repackaging it so people get it. He's a good rider, but he's an amazing teacher. He doesn't subscribe to one style or method. He's very open to anything that works. Most of his students learn to ride bridleless so they can learn to control the horse with their bodies, not the reins. He even uses thai chi breathing techniques to calm students if they become tense.
He taught me how to golf years ago -- "in only a few easy lessons." Really. I took a college course to learn to play golf and he got me to progress more in two hours than I did in an entire semester. I of course didn't stick with it, but I got to the point where I could hold my own on a tame course and have a good time.
He doesn't just show you the skills, but convinces you that you can do it. I think some of that comes from the fact he wasn't allowed to give up on something as a kid. He's able to pass on that "I know I can" he has achieved through his own hard work.
Gosh, he sounds like one of those "life coaches" the rich folks have. But his skills are all instinctual and from experience (he's had a very interesting life, but I need to get to bed). He didn't have to go to some fancy college for a degree in psychology to learn how to motivate people.
Anyway, if you read this, you are a Magic Man. I know no other way to put it. You are amazing. I don't know what I did to deserve someone like you. I love you.

Naughty Wednesday

2006-05-10T00:57:00.000-07:00

ENJOY!

Quantum Physics and Prayer

2006-05-07T02:26:00.000-07:00

The scientific exploration of how we're all connected is getting more attention lately.
I first opened my mind to what quantum physics really is about when I saw "What the Bleep Do We Know." Quantum physics shows we're still trying to find the answers to the unanwerable, and I think that shows there still is hope in humanity. Einstein believed science proved the existence of God. And we're still at it. Science is showing us in tiny glimpses that there really is something to intuition, group consciousness and faith. It's not just an aimless search for answers to explain our existence and purpose. We truly are starting to understand that there is more to us than what the empirical mind says exists.
I especially like to listen to interviews with scientists and researchers on late-night radio. This used to be the domain of psychics and UFO theorists, but now real live scientists are talking about how DNA removed from a person and placed miles away reacts at the exact same time, and in the exact same manner, that the body is reacting to a stimulus. Major bucks are being spent on this type of research, especially overseas.
I heard part of an interview with Gregg Braden tonight, whose written a bunch of books and markets the heck out of himself. This one especially sounds interesting.
Religion and science. I love when two things come together, two things you'd never in a million years would think were simpatico. Kind of like this.
There's beauty in things that our logical minds tell us don't belong together. Call it yin/yang, whatever. It's a reminder to keep your mind open and just consider what you've been told is impossible.

It's Naughty Wednesday!!

2006-05-03T11:50:00.000-07:00

This is the inaugural Naughty Wednesday post. ENJOY! (Thanks, Matt!)
(This is NOT safe for work, folks.)

The Night I Saw a Ghost

2006-04-27T00:47:00.000-07:00

It was January 1998. One of those breezy, crisp, clear and very dry winter nights we have in Southern California. I was driving home from my newspaper job in Glendale. It was roughly midnight. I'm heading east on the 134 freeway near Eagle Rock, where there's still some open space and you can see the city lights below. I think I see someone running across the freeway, from left to right. I can't really see anything but a gray blur racing across the road. It reaches the shoulder and then I can finally see it better, like a Polaroid picture. It's a man wearing a greenish-brown midlength heavy Army coat, and dark blocky pants. They might even have been bell-bottoms. The rest of him I can't see very well. Then he disappears as he reaches the side of the road. This all happened so fast that I didn't even have time to react and hit the brakes. I turn my head back toward the road ahead of me and I see something I almost can't describe. It's like a big, wispy cloud of cigarette smoke, coming right at me. It's maybe 6-10 feet tall, and not quite as wide. But what was strange is it had what was like twinkling rainbow lights in it, similar to the effect you see on a soap bubble but much more brilliant. I DROVE THROUGH THIS THING. It's like the air was sucked out of my car. I thought about slamming on the brakes but something within me said just stay still. WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?! It still blows me away. Intuitively I feel it was a moment recorded in time. I feel like the guy was maybe some Vietnam vet who just wasn't right. Maybe drugs. I also feel like a big truck might have been what hit him and that cloud I drove though was the size and shape of what was left of him when the truck made contact (eew). I hope he didn't suffer. But I think he was suffering a lot and maybe finally found peace. I don't know. I feel like it happened some years ago. I don't know why I saw it, though. I left that job shortly after and had only stayed there about 7 weeks. I never felt right there and went back to an old job that was even worse. Maybe stress attracts those sort of experiences. Maybe certain energies attract and transcend time. Energy doesn't expire, afterall.

Smelly Moments in History

2006-04-20T22:15:00.000-07:00

This week in Malibu, a construction contractor has been trying to figure out what to do with a 30-foot whale carcass that washed up on shore. “The smell is incredible, each day it gets worse and worse,” he said. The city wasn't much help, so he got some lifeguards help him haul the stinky thing back out to sea today.
A similar situation came up in 1970 but they had a much much more creative way of dealing with it. I had almost forgotten about this one. Humor columnist Dave Barry brought it to my attention some years ago. Oh, and be sure you don't miss this one. Enjoy!

Surefire comeback plan for Scientologist actors whose careers have hit the skids

2006-04-19T23:13:00.000-07:00

OBJECTIVE: Get career back on track after negative press about your "religion."
STEP 1: Get assets back in your name.
STEP 2: Fire your Co$-assigned career manager and any other staff that might have connections to Co$. Stop talking to everyone. Period.
STEP 3: Move.
STEP 4: Contact the IRS with any inside information you might have that will result in Co$ losing its tax-exempt status. This action has two purposes: 1) You will be helping to end a decades-old battle between the IRS and a cult that never should have been granted this unfair subsidy (Matthew 6:24, "You cannot serve God and money.") and 2) Co$ will be too busy dealing with the IRS to be concerned with what you are about to do. Oh, and make sure to get immunity for divulging this information to the IRS.
STEP 5: Hire a new manager you are positive has no ties to Co$.
STEP 6: Contact Rolling Stone or Time magazine and offer an exclusive. They already have a vendetta against Co$. Tell them how you have been manipulated and brainwashed. Tell them about the harmful practices you have witnessed. Tell them how much money you've spent. Tell them how you got out and make a plea to other people in Hollywood to join you in your new-found intellectual and financial freedom.
STEP 7: After your story breaks, prepare for Co$ goons to attempt to sully your reputation. They'll do anything to divert the attention you are getting. Keep yourself surrounded by others, and think about hiring a body guard.
STEP 8: Prepare to be a hero. You'll have a lot of new admirers and, more importantly, lots of offers for work. Take anything you can get as other actors in your position likely will follow suit and your novelty will only last so long.
GOOD LUCK.

The Huell Howser Drinking Game

2006-04-17T12:56:00.000-07:00

I love the Huell. He's even got an entry on Wikipedia. I enjoy him so much, in fact, that I have invented a drinking game to be played when watching any of his programs, such as "Road Trip With Huell Howser" or "California's Gold."
Every time Huell says "wwwwwooooowwwwww..." drink. Not just a "wow" but "wwwwwwwwooooowwww." You'll know it when you hear it.
Every time Huell says something obvious, drink. Example: "So the people of the town would bring their mail right here to this post office?"
And every time Huell addresses his cameraman, drink. Example: "Hey, look at this [Luis/Troy/Cameron]."
(OK, I'm not actually suggesting anyone try this as it likely would put 'em in the hospital!!)

One crusade at a time

2006-04-14T12:39:00.000-07:00

I'm simplifying my life. I've gotten rid of a few Web sites I never took care of and just going for a nice, plain blog. And it's FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. When I have something to say that has some "gravity," I'll be back. But right now, I've got soup on the stove and I'm hungry, folks. See you in a bit.