5 Most Influential Books

To anyone who knows me, it's no secret that I love to read. It was my first true love, actually, and one which I still share to this day. In fact, for a list of (mostly) every book I've ever read--starting since childhood and moving on up through the years--check out my book list in the sidebar to the right of this page under "The Books I've Read." Be warned, though: the link leads you to a word document I have up on the public domain of my cloud service. You will be asked whether you want to open or save the file first.

Books have shaped the man I am today. I've learned so much, visited so many wonderful places (both real and imagined), and met a lot of strange and interesting characters along the way. I don't think there's one aspect of my writing today that is not somehow influenced by a great many of the titles from my childhood. Some days I feel as if I'm channeling them all! But there are a few that stick out. I've narrowed them down to 5 books that I will share with you below. These books, more than any other, have had the most profound impact on my development both as a person and a writer. And all for differing reasons.

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

My uncle used to subscribe to Reader's Digest, and every month or so a new hardcover novel would arrive at our home in the mail. Beautifully bound and lettered, most of these books were great classics which carried an air of importance about them. Though, at the age of 11, most such titles like Moby Dick or The Virginian were too intimidating for me to try. But the Sherlock Holmes stories were different. Although it was difficult at first to get into the narrative style and syntax of the Victorian-age writing, the larger than life figure of the world's greatest detective took hold of my imagination like no other book could. To this day I still try to emulate Sherlock in my everyday life--observant and keenly interested in everything!

For Love of Mother-Not - by Alan Dean Foster.

My best friend introduced me to the author's works at the beginning of my freshman year in high school. I was 14 at the time and this was my first foray into the sci-fi genre for books. I was initially skeptical of the genre, but Foster's young protagonist quickly drew me in. Not to mention the fantastical descriptions of the sights and sounds that inhabited the sleepy backwater world of Moth, on which an orphaned red-headed boy was taken in by a curmudgeonly old merchant woman named Mother Mastiff and raised as her own. Being an orphan myself, I practically devoured this novel and asked for more. Luckily it belonged to Foster's "Commonwealth" series, and I quickly set out down the path of science fiction fandom that has so steered the course of my adult life. If not for this one book alone, I might never have discovered that sci-fi isn't about flying saucers and alien monsters incubating inside smelly human space miners. A whole new world of sophisticated and possible stories to tell was opened to me!

The Shades - by Betty Brock.

This was my first "big book" for children back in the third grade when I was 8. It was also my first foray into the "fantasy" genre, if you want to classify it as such. The story was about a boy who comes to stay with his eccentric aunt one summer, only to discover a secret world of shadow people living in the gardens behind her house, unseen to the rest of the world. It was this fantastical element that so surprised me back then, as I was initially led to believe that this was going to be a mundane story about a boy learning to be self-reliant and dependable in the face of indifferent parents who had better things to do. To be true, it was some of that. But the Shades and their shadowy intrigues proved far more compelling of a plot device for my young, bored mind. I doubt I've had more fun reading a book even to this day. It opened my eyes to reading as enjoyment, and not just as part of some school assignment. From this moment on, I would seek out and acquire books on my own. A book worm was born!

Dragon's Blood - by Jane Yolen.

Read this book in high school ostensibly for its cover. But what was inside turned out to be even better. Jane Yolen was mainly known for her YA fantasies at the time, but this book had some curious sci-fi sensibilities going for it as well. Which, since I had only just discovered the genre, was right down my alley. It's what originally caught my attention. Although the novel definitely has its fantasy trappings--it's about an orphan boy who seeks fortune through obtaining and training his own pet dragon, after all (and decades before that other series of books and movie)--it took place on a ruthless "outback" colony planet peopled by former prisoners. The world had mechanized transport and space ports. And it also had dragons. Weird! But as I was always a sucker for rags to riches tales--and there was that orphan boy angle again, to boot!--I read this book three times over in back to back sittings. Yeah, I did that. I loved it that much, see? I vowed to someday write a novel with a young teen protagonist that would be just as cool as this book. A promise I'm still keeping today.

Altered Carbon - by Richard K. Morgan.

I've talked about this book often on this blog, I'm sure. And with good reason. Morgan has gone on to write many other books since, of course, but this 2002 debut novel of his is why I'm writing sci-fi today. By the new millennium, I had pretty much given up hope of ever writing in the sci-fi genre. I used to read so many golden age science fiction stories that my style and ideas were as dusty and obsolete as those tales. I felt detached from the genre, with no idea what new stuff was selling these days. And then I saw all the praise this novel was getting in the trade rags. On a hunch, I picked up a copy and settled down for an adventure that would turn my life around forever. All the hard-boiled grittiness, the violence, the dark intrigues and socio-political underpinnings of a future Earth faced with a crisis of the soul . . . all these things and more endeared me to a new class of contemporary sci-fi novels coming out at the time. In Morgan's world, humans were no longer bogged down by the specter of age, disease, and death. Implanted with a "cortical stack" at birth which records all memories and saves them to backup, people were virtually immortal in this time. They could swap bodies at will, effectively extending their consciousness and, therefore, their lives indefinitely. But all things come with a price, as usual. Reading into all this, I was taken over by Morgan's slick use of inferred future technology. But even more so by his fast and loose use of prose which kept a steady, upbeat tempo ticking away as you read along. This stuff was exciting, modern, and so in tune with what I thought I should be writing! Suddenly, I had stories to tell. Suddenly I saw that there was a world out there for the stories I wanted to tell. Suddenly, I wanted to WRITE!

And there you have it. The 5 most important books in my life thus far. Writing this up makes me want to read them all again. Especially the Dragon's Blood trilogy, which I just discovered had a fourth book come out only a few years back. Hmm, I must have missed mention of this somehow. Ack! I must read the first three all over again before purchasing the fourth. So exciting!

How about you? What book has influenced your life in a great and positive way? Tell me in the comments section below. Or, better yet, write your own blog entry on the subject!

The Return

Guess who's back? Back again . . .

I've been M.I.A. over the past several days--since last Thursday, in fact. I needed some time off from everyday life here in the city. And so I headed up to Vermont with my very good friends, Cin and Aleks, and one of their friends for the MLK weekend. We all stayed in a great little B&B just outside of Ludlow in Okemo valley, which is not far from the Massachusetts/New Hampshire border.

But, boy, getting there was an adventure and a half! I dragged my luggage over to my friends' house Thursday morning. They had the car, see, but I would be the one driving us the 250 miles there and back. We picked up their friend, Marci, and then hit the road at around 4:30 pm. Unfortunately, this is the height of rush hour. And even more unfortunate, this is New York City. You get the picture. Needless to say it took an inordinate amount of time just to reach New Haven in Connecticut. About an hour longer than normal, if not more. Considering that we still had another 3 hours to go, I was worried we would arrive at our destination too tired to do anything but drop our bags and pass out. And what a waste of a day that would be, huh?

Still, on top of the horrendous traffic, we also had to contend with mother nature and hungry stomachs of course. What an annoyance! So we stopped at a service station along the road and made it into a McDonald's. Now, I haven't eaten in a Mickey Dee's in quite some time. And whenever I do, I'm never there for a whole meal. This time was different, tho. This was actually going to be my dinner for the night. So I ordered something simple but filling: two cheeseburgers and a small fries. However, when it came to the choice of drink I was drawing a blank. I was craving orange soda for some reason, and I could not remember if McD's served orange soda. The cashier looked at me like I was crazy. No orange soda, only an orange-like fruit drink. I had to reveal that, hell, I haven't asked for a soda in a fast food joint in 7 years. Give me a break, dude!

So I went with a diet coke instead.

But my poor, dear friend Cin had a worse experience. Not known for her adventurous spirit when it comes to food, I don't know why she chose this day to stir things up a bit. Having heard of the cult-like status surrounding McD's limited time sandwich--the McRib--she decided that this treasured delicacy would finally, on this very night, be hers! Oh, if only I had known. See, knowing Cin as I do, I did think this item an odd choice for her to be ordering. Despite the mania in this country for the McRib sandwich, it really isn't as good as it used to be back in the 80s when it was first introduced. I used to love it as a kid, but must say it's gone downhill ever since McDonald's decided it was a good idea to get rid of all the unhealthy saturated fats and other gunk that used to make their food delicious. Who needs a heart anyway, right?

But see, I didn't know that my friend did not know the McRib sucks. I thought she'd had one before and, like other crazy people in this country, had grown to become obsessed with the little faux-ribbed delight. Nope. Turns out she just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Bad, Cin. Bad! Only after she finished the sandwich did she complain about how awful it was. And that's when I found out the truth. Oy vey! I could have saved you the trouble, my friend.

The stuff of Cin's nightmares!

Yes, I'm still shaking my head to this day. Luckily for all of us in the car, Cin's error in judgement did not manifest itself in . . . er, let's say . . . any gastro-intestinal mishaps as we continued on our way. Phew! When we finally arrived at our destination, it was 10:00. Late, but not too late. The innkeepers Julie and Mike met us at the door and showed us to our rooms. Everyone got settled in, retired downstairs to the parlor to hang out a little, and then called it a night.

Home away from home at the Golden Stage Inn.

This tidy inn was very comfy to hang out at during our stay, and is very close to Okemo ski resort. We didn't do any skiing, however. Cin and Marci wiled away their waking hours crafting warmy socks and cool cowls and what have you, while Aleks had to contend with work-related phone calls and a business meeting or two in a big town one hour's drive away. Meanwhile I wrote a little and read a whole lot -- and stole cookies from the inn's infamous "never ending cookie jar" when I thought no one was looking (for the record: they totally were!).

Honestly, though, we were there just to relax and unwind, which was definitely welcomed on my part. And the innkeepers were just too awesome for words, too! We felt like we had free run of the house, hanging out in the parlor by the fireplace and sipping vodka-and-peppermint spiked hot cocoa as if it was our home. Not a bad way to spend a long, cold winter weekend, eh?

At some point Cin, Aleks and I left Marci behind and drove 90 minutes northeast to visit our alma mater, Middlebury College. We arrived on a late Sunday morning/early afternoon--and during January term to boot! Which meant the campus was even emptier and more quiet than normal for a Sunday.

It was weird returning to my old stomping grounds. Since graduating in 1998, I've only been back twice. Once in 2001 for a Chinese dept. reunion, and then again in 2004 to attend a wedding in a nearby town. Since then so much has changed. For one, there is a lot more development in the little village of Middlebury. More empty plots of land are now occupied by housing, or stores, and even a huge restructuring of the town center to include a traffic circle and this massive new bridge connecting the college with route 7 on the other side of town. Crazy! What used to take me 30 mins to walk to back in the 90s now takes only 12! Oh how I could have used this convenience then. *shakes fist*

In my day, we had to walk uphill in the snow . . .

And yet, for all that has changed, the campus itself has remained remarkably the same. It was very weird seeing the same official buildings, the same mail room, the same dorms we lived in looking very much like we last saw them. I had this weird feeling as we walked around campus reliving old memories; a feeling as if I had never left. This used to surprise me back when I attended college there, too, after returning from summer recess or winter break. This sense of sameness that used to drive me crazy, but now I find I miss terribly. If only I knew then what I know now. Maybe I would have savored the experience a bit more, knowing what awaited me out there in the real world.

Checking the ye olde mailbox just for kicks. Oh, how
my knees remember!

My dorm from Feb. 1995 until May 1996. 

Mead Chapel on the western end of campus.

What was even more disconcerting, however, were the few students we did run across on occasion during our trek to all our familiar haunts. Geez, were we ever so young and baby-faced? I mean, Cin could still pass for 19 years old no problem. But myself? Probably not so much. Still, I swear some of these kids looked like freshmen in high school, not college! Or maybe I am just getting older? Could be . . .

Anyway, the trip was a blast and much needed. Too bad it had to come to an end. Sorry for the long silence, but I'm back now and ready to return to this difficult task of getting my life in order. It's going to be a long year ahead, but I must remember to take little breaks like this here and there and have some fun. Or else I shall go mad. And there's nothing worse than a nutso blogger, is there?

Didn't think so.

My Own Path

So 2013 is here and it's time for me to turn over a new leaf. Simply put, I need to get back to writing seriously. Due to those issues with my personal life I keep hinting at, I've slacked off something serious over the past two years. I think I may have written maybe three brand new stories in that time, revised one or two others, and completely re-drafted my novel in progress, which is still only one-third of the way done. That might seem pretty good progress, but it actually isn't for me. Not for two years' time.

But I think I feel my spirits starting to rise a little, despite my ongoing situation. Well, perhaps in spite of it is more accurate. I just feel like ENOUGH IS ENOUGH already! I need to refocus and remember my goals. I  refuse to be beaten down.

And yes, hopefully this means I will write more here on the blog. Can't promise anything, but I will try.

For the foreseeable future, my plan is simply to write. That's it. Write. Oh and read, of course. Can't forget to do that. But actually, this has always been my philosophy. I have a very simple one, dedicated primarily to the bettering of my craft. I don't go in for conferences, or genre cons, or constantly discussing agents, synopses, and other assorted mundania of the business side of writing. I will get to that some day for sure, but right now all I care about is becoming a better writer. Finding my voice and perfecting my story-telling techniques. For the short term I'm in it all for the love of the pure art of writing. Since a child I wanted to write so that my dreams could be realized on paper. This is all I should be focusing on right now, to bring this realization to fruition. To that end, there is no better formula than planting butt in chair and to write, write, WRITE!

Right?

Disappearing Act

The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated.

Hi folks. Happy new year. Let's hope 2013 is a lot better to me than 2012 has been. Jesus Christ!

No, I haven't run away, although I haven't been on the blogs for some time. That means not only have I not been updating this site on a regular basis, but that I missed out on all of your own blogs for almost a month now. Sorry 'bout that. I've been pretty down and out of things for a little while due to a crippling personal circumstance that has arisen. It's not about my health, nor has anyone died in my family. Thankfully everything's fine on both accounts. But I don't really want to go into details right now. Maybe later. Suffice to say that I've been very sad and hurt in all this time, and haven't had much enthusiasm to start up the PC and blog about stuff.

It happens.

Cake Me!

I was in the mood for some cake over the weekend, so figured I'd try an oldie but goodie family tradition--the pineapple upside down cake! This is a dessert my grandma used to make for us kids all the time, and was my personal favorite growing up. Problem was I didn't have a big enough cake pan to do the job. I'd always heard that the traditional method of making this classic was in a cast-iron skillet. I don't own a cast-iron-skillet, but I do have a very heavy, 12-inch Cephalon skillet that I thought might do the trick. And so I set to work on what I hoped wouldn't prove a colossal disaster.

First I melted an entire stick of butter in the skillet over a low fire. Then, I mixed in one cup of packed light-brown sugar until the entire bottom of the skillet was covered in the butter/sugar mixture. Atop this I placed around 8 slices of pineapple.

Some people use cherries, halved, to place within each pineapple slice center. My grandma never did this, so I didn't either. Perhaps next time. And like grandma, I decided to use pineapple from out of the can rather than going through the labor of cutting and coring a whole pineapple myself. After all, I didn't even know if I was wasting my time or not. So I wanted to stick as close to what I remembered from childhood as I could.

Next I combined all my dry ingredients (flour, baking soda, granulated sugar, salt . . . box of instant vanilla pudding mix!) with eggs, more butter, oil and a about a cup of pineapple juice from the can the slices came out of. I dug out my trusty old mixer and set it on medium. After around 2 minutes of this, the batter felt like just the right consistency.

Or so I thought. After pouring the batter into the skillet and over the pineapple and brown sugar, the result seemed a little too stiff for my liking. But I hoped beyond hope that this was just my paranoia taking over, and decided to risk it all. I placed the entire skillet in a pre-heated oven set at 350 degrees . . . and crossed my fingers.

Good thing the skillet has a steel handle! I let it bake for an hour, checking every 10 minutes to make sure the cake was rising the way it should be. What I saw each time was promising. It just rose and rose until the top was almost cresting the skillet's rim. Whoa!

But I'm happy to report the cake came out just fine! Take a peek for yourself:

I noticed the pineapple slices migrated quite a bit from the center during the baking process. Hmmm, will have to pack them in closer together next time, methinks. But overall the coloring and consistency came out just as I had hoped. Better yet, the skillet worked out perfectly! I never would have guessed. It does make me wonder what difference a cast-iron one might have made. I dunno.

But anyway, here is the final result:

Mmmmm. Doesn't that look simply scrumptious? Is your mouth watering yet? Maybe you'll want to click on that image to get a closer look? I know I for one can't wait to eat this! :)

I think next week I will try to make a pie for the very first time. Blueberry is my favorite, but I was thinking of going traditional American and making an apple pie as my first try. I will be making everything from scratch, including the crust. *meep* Wish me luck!

A Gaming Milestone

Now this is interesting!

My favorite indie game of the year, Journey, just got nominated for a Grammy Award for "Best Score Soundtrack For Visual Media." It goes up against a slew of excellent movies this voting season, including: Hugo, Tintin, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and The Dark Knight Rises. This marks the first time an entire album has ever been nominated based off an original video game soundtrack. And what makes it so cool for me is that I genuinely enjoy the heck out of this game! (And, yes, I've already downloaded it off iTunes, of course!)

Journey is a very simple, beautifully moving adventure released exclusively on the Playstation Network back on March 13th. It takes roughly 2 - 3 hours to complete and costs less that $15 to download from the Playstation Store. There is no dialogue. No guns. No fighting. No drawn-out cutscenes. You start out as a mysterious robed figure who's born out of a comet hitting the desert sands early one morning. From this point on you must guide this figure across the dunes on some unexplained quest that even he or she does not understand. Your only clue is a great big mountain peak rising up to the sky in the far distance. A bright beacon of light beckons to you from the summit of said peak, somehow drawing you forward. It's a journey, you see? One that will take you across great expanses and against sometimes impossible odds. And like all great journeys, it's not the destination that is important, but your experiences along the way that shape who you will become.

Journey also uses online play in a unique way which I totally enjoyed. If your PS3 is connected online, the game allows other players to intrude on your session. Now, "intrude" is perhaps too negative a connotation here. In Journey, random online players can appear in and out of your adventure at any time, offering to team up with you along the way if you so desire. You cannot speak to one another, or even see the other player's gamer tag (aka, user name). Your only form of communication is through a series of musical notes. Yeah, how rad is that? Somehow, some way--through carefully placed musical cues and the context of your actions--you and your companion can get the gist of things and work together toward a mutually beneficial goal. Which is, to reach your destination atop that mountain! On my first play through, I ended up buddying up with some guy from China randomly chosen by the game's servers. Because we could not speak to each other, and because there is no dialogue or text to read in the game itself, cultural and language barriers were never an issue. It's was all about the gameplay! Which, frankly, is how it should be.

Check out the trailer below for just a taste of the beauty and majesty this title brings:




Journey is a title that urges pure, unadulterated exploration and puzzle solving. What I loved so much about it is that most of the story is inferred by the gorgeous scenery and music. As such, the orchestral score is some of the most haunting, evocative pieces you'll ever hear. The type of score you'd expect from a deep, well-thought out foreign indie flick. Not a video game!

So it is no surprise to me that the score was nominated for such a top honor. The game's composer, Austin Wintory, did an outstanding job. Wow! And kudos to all the hard work from the members of the orchestra, especially the main cellist, Tina Guo. She's absolutely fantastic here!




I also love how much the scenery and colors draw you into this world. You start out with the golds and reds of the unending desert sands, move on to the muted greens of a sunken world, and eventually on to the drab blues and foamy whites of the snow-capped higher elevations . . . moving inexorably toward that bright light beckoning to you from afar. Along the way, as you successfully solve puzzle after puzzle with the aid of an online buddy, your robed protagonists gain wonderful abilities like incredible jumping height and even a form of flight. Given how much I love flying, you can only imagine how cool this was for me!

But perhaps the most thrilling aspect of the game comes early when you have to dune surf your way to the end of the stage. Yes, you read that correctly: dune surf. As in, surfing on sand instead of water! Or "sand skiing," if you want to get caught up in particulars.

I'll leave you all with this video of a German player's dune surfing session, which not only confers the sheer fun of this game, but the amazingly gorgeous visuals. Check out the lighting and spectrum shift when entering the terraced area of the ancient city. Jaw-dropping!




By the way, those energetic carpet bundles you see gliding through the air alongside your character, dipping below and above the sands like dolphins, are sentient helpers you had to rescue earlier. They assist you sometimes, lending magic to your depleting stores so that you can gain lift and maintain flight when you most need it.

Did I not mention this game is awesome? You should all play it sometime. It's a title anyone can pick up and enjoy.

Game of Thrones Looking Good For Next Season!

This will only matter to fans of Game of Thrones, I'm sure. But HBO aired this awesome Production Video last night which gives us our first real glimpse into what's in store for Season 3. Anyone who has read the books knows that the third novel--A Storm of Swords--is when things really get cracking. No joke! This book is the darkest, most violent, most shocking of them all thus far. And judging by this clip, it seems the show's producers are just as intent on capturing all this as we readers are in seeing it all come to our tv screens.

Check out the video for yourselves:




Emilia Clarke looks absolutely stunning in her brief interview (1:05 mark). Wow! And, who cannot be excited by our first on-set sightings of Jojen and Meera Reed (0:35 mark)? Last season I had speculated that we may never see the Reeds at all, since they should have shown up on the show by now. At the very least, I remember saying, only Meera would appear since Bran Stark seems to have taken on some of the role Jojen filled in the books. But, nope, both Reed siblings will arrive in season 3! I'm so excited.

Jojen is played by Thomas Brodie-Sangster (Love, Actually), while Meera is being portrayed by Ellie Kendrick (Upstairs Downstairs). Sharped-eyed viewers may also notice a pair of acting luminaries in this clip in the form of one Ciarán Hinds (Rome) playing "the King Beyond the Wall," Mance Rayder (1:46); and the incomparable Diana Rigg (On Her Majesty's Secret Service) taking on the role of the formidable Lady Olenna Redwyne, aka "the Queen of Thorns" of House Tyrell (0:54).

I love all the awesome talent, new and old, being poured into this fabulous show!

We still have a ways to go before Season 3 airs, unfortunately. Mark it on your calendars: March 31st! If you love the show but have not read the books, you're going to be in for one hell of a season. Damn!

Batista's 6 Golden Rules For Staying Out Of Prison

You know, there are times when the actions of my fellow human beings on this planet alarm me. I mean, I have to sit back and wonder just what is going on in people's heads when they do things that are just asking for trouble. Now, I'm no saint. I've made my own share of boneheaded mistakes. Hell, they've made me who I am today: a cautious, careful, law-abiding citizen. But when I look at the news, or listen to some of my friends detail the ails of their own lives, it becomes apparent that perhaps not everyone has learned the same lessons I have.

So I thought I'd write them down. These are generalized, grand sweeping rules I've adopted to govern a lot of what I do in life. Or, to be more accurate, how I go about ensuring that I avoid incarceration. As such there aren't many to list, but the few I have below are cherished chestnuts I maintain in my day to day dealings in order to ensure my cherished chestnuts remain out of the fire  . . . and out of the hands of some big dude named "Bubba."

So, let us proceed:


RULE 1 -- "Mind your damn business."

This should be pretty obvious. We all know it's true, after all. And yet, why do so many people ignore this sage advice? This is one I've been guilty of before in my youth, although usually for altruistic reasons. I was always that guy -- well meaning, but usually sticking his neck out too far for someone else when they don't really require his help. Yup, that was me. Too good for my own good. I got burned one too many times on this one, though, and so generally these days I very rarely help a stranger or acquaintance unless they ask me specifically for help. Because sometimes what you think is a solicitation for assistance is in fact just someone looking for another set of ears to vent their frustrations upon. And all that's required of you in such a situation is to simply listen. Things have the tendency to get much more complicated if you stray from this plan. This also includes breaking up fights and/or trying to referee an argument between two heated individuals. Take it from me, just stay out of it!

RULE 2 -- "Never lend friends money."

I would include family in this one, too, but for me family is different. You have just the same or even less of a chance of getting that money back from family members as you do with friends, sure. But the difference is that you're kinda forced to stay family with these people. Shared DNA, you know? Not so with friends. I swear, nothing sours a friendship faster than a buddy who promises to pay you back and then never does. For me, having to then ask said friend to pay me back is twice as bad and really infuriates me. I've had it happen before; suffice to say I no longer speak to these people anymore. It sucks. I can only recall once lending a good sum of funds to one of my best friends, and only because he was in such dire straits at the time. Happily, this friend wasn't a douche nozzle and actually paid me back. But, no, as a general rule I don't tend to risk this behavior often. I value my friendships, and would like to stay out of prison even more, thank you very much.

RULE 3 -- "Never speak aloud in public your opinions on politics or religion."

When I say "in public," I mean in front of a good sized crowd of people you don't know personally. Like on the subway or at some function you've been invited to speak at. First of all, to those who agree with your views -- you're simply preaching to the choir. What a waste of time! But, for those who do not agree with you . . . you could be risking a huge fight or, worse, your own life. See, you can control what you say. So exercise that control! What you can't control, unfortunately, is if Fred sitting in the third row five seats from the left remembered to take his psych meds that morning. Some people (i.e., MOST people) cannot stand when someone else has a differing outlook from their own. At best, they'll roll their eyes and hate your guts in silence. But at worse, Fred decides your right arm might look better lightly seasoned and sauteed with a nice side of buttered parsnips. Do not feed the lunatic, people! Keep your opinions to yourself.

RULE 4 -- "Never look for easy money."

There's no such thing. Honestly. Easy money is almost always illegal money. Case in point. A good friend of mine recently came into a great deal of dough. His live-in girlfriend--always looking for a good thing--convinced him to invest all that cash in a new development scheme her best friend was cooking up. This friend, not knowing much about real estate and investing, took her word that it was a sure-fire thing and agreed to go along with the plan. He had no idea what he was getting involved with might not be all that legal. All he focused on was that he would make tons more money back on the returns--and quick! Lo and behold, it ended up in the news and is now a huge federal lawsuit in the making. Lesson to be learned? Never trust "easy" money. It's never a sure thing, and is almost always guaranteed to send you to the big house.

Rule 5 -- "Don't commit a crime."

Well, duh. I know this goes without saying, but here's what I mean. Even if you are all but guaranteed to get away with it--don't do it! In my book, even a 0.05% chance of getting caught is too great a risk. A few years ago, a construction worker friend of mine tried to convince me to rent a truck so that we could drive over to the construction site he was working at and load up all the spare spools of copper wiring that were lying around. According to him they were surplus, and if we didn't pick them up quick the rich contractor would, and keep all the money from selling the excess to the scrap yard for himself. This friend swore up and down that there was nothing criminal about the enterprise at all, just a matter of beating someone else to the punch. The site was not guarded or surveilled, and he had the keys to access the grounds nonetheless. It would have been a quick in and out operation, netting us roughly 5 grand apiece! As tempting as it was, my common sense of course kicked in. I just knew this could not be legal. And sure enough, it wasn't! Had I given in to my friend's insistence, who knows where I might have ended up. But it's not all that difficult to guess . . .

Rule 6 -- "Don't be a gossip."

Seriously, no one likes a false witness. Or a rumor monger. Talking about someone else behind their back is probably the lowest form of human social interaction there is, and yet it is the most popular. I guess it's hardwired into our little primate brains. Something our ancestors did to pass the time while picking out gnats and fleas from each others 'dos. But it's just not cute. Not only does gossip have a tendency to quickly escalate to the passing of untruths and wild speculation, but it can end up really hurting the target of said gossip. And if we're dealing with the likes of poor, unstable Fred again . . . You remember Fred, right? Forgot-to-take-his-meds, Fred? Yes, well, you get the picture. I think in the annals of human history more fights have been attributed to he said/she said shenanigans than any other activity, save "yo mama" jokes. And as my man Yoda was once heard to remark: Fights lead to handcuffs. Handcuffs lead to jail. Jail leads to . . . (anal) suffering!


And there you have it. While this list is certainly not exhaustive, it does encapsulate the very rules I try my best to live by. Most of these are fairly obvious, true. And yet, I see them broken time and time again by folk who should really know better. Have you checked your local news lately? Exactly!

But of course, because I'm such a kind and gracious host, if you can think of any more rules of wisdom to live by and keep yourself out of the slammer, please post them in the comments section below. I'll be more than happy to add them to my list!

Help With A New Story

Sometime earlier this month, I mentioned a new short story I had just recently completed. You can find that post here. I also mentioned needing to trim it down to around the 5,000 word mark or below, even though the rough draft clocked in at around 6,800 words or so. It was a tall order, but I was dismayed when, upon re-reading the draft, I ended up only cutting around 400 words when all was said and done. Dang it! Simply put, there was way too much in the story which I felt was critical to what I, the writer, wanted to have said. Try as I might, I simply could not cut anything more out besides the odd word or three here and there. Baby stuff, really. Not the major cutting I would need to do in order to get the ms under 5k.

To make matters more complicated, a dear and trusted friend of mine who I shall not name but who's opinion I trust more than anything, agreed to do an early reading and was able to hash out some of the finer points with me. We both concluded that, rather than cutting anything from the manuscript, I should in fact add more. Specifically, my friend felt as if the story was missing a key scene. Something that would not only help explain the motivations of my protagonist better, but which would also allow some of the finer plot points I was being coy with make more sense to the reader. And I agreed with this assessment.

So I went back to the drawing board and crafted a whole new scene to insert. The scene turned out really well, and I'm very proud of what it brings to the overall effect now.

See? Collaboration is wonderful!

But here's the thing. The story is now 7,400 words long. Not terrible; it still falls under the 7,500 max for a classic short story. And I'm sure I can pare that down by another 200 words or so. But it might make this a little harder to sell to certain markets.

But that's besides the point of this blog post. What I wanted to ask of you, my friends, is if I could get any volunteers to do a second round reading for me? I trust my regulars here, and all I'm really looking for is someone to do a cold reading and give me their frank opinion on what I wrote. You don't have to get too technical with line edits and pointing out typos and grammos and all those sorts of nitpicks--although, I certainly would not begrudge that level of attention to detail. No, if all you can do is give me a quick assessment on whether or not the whole bloody thing works as a story (e.g.: yes, it does; or, no, it has some issues, dude!) then that will be perfectly fine as well. As will anything which falls in-between these two extremes.

All I'll say about the story itself is that it is dark and mysterious, with vaguely supernatural and religious undertones, although if you really know where to look you will realize that it takes very definite sci-fictional cues. Or, at least, SFnal ones. Speculative Fiction is, after all, a very broad and generous genre. This story in particular deals with the themes of death, love, and fate. With heavy focus on the first two.

So, if anyone is interested and up to the task, please contact me via e-mail (it's up at the top right of this blog, under my profile) or via my Facebook inbox, and I will send you the link and password to access the Word doc. It will be saved as an .rtf (Rich Text Format) file, so it should work on everyone's preferred device of computing. I hope.

And I must stress this: Please do not feel obligated. I will not disown you for not reading my story. I don't even really need a whole lot of readers; just one or two who are dedicated to the task and have the free time. Of course, the more will always be the merrier . . . but don't feel pressed if you really can't be bothered. I of all people understand how real life gets in the way of things, and there will be no hard feelings on my part. I totally understand.

That being said -- those who do undertake this mission, I will love you long time and FOREVER! :) Not that you in any way need to find that a significant motivator.

Sometimes, Life Throws You A Rotten Lemon

. . .  And just you try making lemonade with rotten lemons!

Was watching a tv show last night where this boy gets reunited with his mom after 18 years, having not seen her since he was just a toddler. And I thought what a sweet moment that was, and how it gives one hope. And then it hit me: I'm never going to see my mom. Like, ever. And that hit me pretty hard indeed. See, there won't be any tearful reunions. No "sorry I missed out on most of your life, son." I will never have that. Ever. My life won't resemble a Lifetime movie, or a Hallmark card. My mom is gone from me forever.

Forever.

Now, sure, I've known this all along. But something about that moment, watching it happen on the tv screen, just brought it all home at once in a way that twenty-seven years of mourning have not. I mean, it struck me with such clarity and force that -- HOLY SHIT! I will *never* be with my mom again. I think somehow, some way, deep down inside . . . I think I actually had this feeling like I would see her someday. Like this nightmare would one day end and all would be well again. I would have my mom back, and this lifelong empty hole of loneliness inside me would somehow fill up and make me whole.

But, nuh-uh. Not happening, buddy. This is life. What, you thought it would have a happy ending? Fuck that shit!

Needless to say, I don't believe in heaven and angels and harps 'n' clouds and all that bullshit. I do believe that none of us on this Earth have even the foggiest real notion of what happens to us after we die. So, with that in mind, perhaps there is still a chance I will be reunited with my loved ones someday. Because, who's to say that I won't be, right? I sincerely doubt it, though. Something tells me that what you see is what you get with this life we have to live. So, I guess the message is: make the best of it when you can, while you can. This Earth is meant for living life to the fullest and getting the most out of such a corporeal, tactile existence.

Because we might not know what happens next, but it damn sure won't be like this.

We Have A Winner!

So, yeah, here we are. Wednesday morning.

Two days ago when I wrote this blog piece, I did in fact say that this morning would prove me right. And it certainly has. It's official: sanity has been restored! I'm feeling quite ebullient today to say the least. Despite the prognostications of the punditry who seemed intent on making this a very close race for the sake of ratings, all the so-called "battleground" states with the exception of North Carolina went to Barack Obama. So, really, how close was it all anyway? According to the majority of "in the know" political insiders before the election, there was no way Obama was going to get a clean sweep of these key states. Similarly, I began to hear such nonsense about how the prez could likely end up winning the electoral map, but lose out to the popular vote. The latter claim, because this country isn't run like a sorority, doesn't have any legal merit anyway. But it was being predicted nonetheless. And even that did not come true. By final count, Obama had 303 electoral votes to Romney's 206. There needed to be 270 to win, so the deal is done. We keep the same man in office for the next four years. And in popular votes (so far), he's garnered 50.3% (59,854,458 votes) to the challenger's 48.1% (57,176,621 votes). Even better. I don't know about you, folks, but I see no equivocation in those results. There's a clear-cut winner here!

We're sooo going to Disney World after this.

This race was nastier than it had any reason to be. It left many exhausted and embittered, disillusioned and hopeless. But sometimes that's politics. I remember feeling much the same back in 2000 and 2004. And yet, that too passed. Because I do believe that this country has already been headed in the right direction, I actually have a lot of optimism about the next four years. I believe we as a country needed the stability of keeping the status quo in order to truly get ourselves back on the right track. Mittens would have wrecked all that. So, yes, this is a HUGE win in my opinion. I also feel vindicated for having supported John Kerry back in 2004. I didn't want him as our candidate (I was rooting for Howard Dean), but I went along with my party because I thought getting Bush out of the White House by any means was worth swallowing my doubts about the man. But the rest of the country made me eat humble pie over that decision, and I was okay after a few days. Republicans will have to do the same now. Hello, this was your John Kerry! Mitt Romney was never the right person to send up against the Obama machine, but every Republican pretended to act as if he was. Hogwash! No one in their right mind should have believed in this flip-flopping corporate shill. But they hated the idea of a black man in the White House even more, to the point of ignoring common sense. And so, this is the result. You reap what you sow.

Mitt watches Karl Rove make an ass of himself
on Fox News. That sinking feeling . . .

Ah, yes. Vindication. It feel so good! And now, this ends your obligatory political blog post here on The Bimillennial Man for perhaps another four years. If even that.

Stay frosty, my friends.

EDIT:  For those wishing to view the clip of that blubbering ass Karl Rove desperately trying to deny Obama a win in Ohio--going against even the sober admissions of his cherished Fox News compatriots, no less--simply click here and sit back to enjoy the circus. I know I did.

My Thoughts On Tuesday

I try not to get too political here on The Bimillennial Man, and that's not about to change. Not because I'm afraid of offending anyone (I'm entitled to my own opinions after all, aren't I?), but because I see it as rather pointless. After all, to those on the same side of the political fence as I am I'll just be preaching to the choir. And to those who hold opposing views to mine on how this country should be run . . . am I really going to be changing their minds? I didn't think so. So, yes, what's the point?

But seeing as how tomorrow is going to be a fairly important day on the political side of things here in the U.S. of A., and because I will be doing my civic duty as a tax-paying citizen, I thought I'd just briefly and even vaguely describe my general feelings on things.


1) I think it's fairly obvious that the guy I'm backing is in fact going to win. I mean, the media and polls will have us believe this thing is going to be scary and close, and may even involve another Florida voting disaster ala 2000's presidential election. But I'm not buying any of it. I think it's going to be fairly by the books and that my candidate will win. Not because I'm being overly optimistic and hopeful, but in fact realistic. I've been telling my family members this for several weeks now. I have the same feeling now as I did in 2004 when I was absolutely certain John Kerry would be receiving the short end of the stick with Bush's bid for a second term. It's eerie how very similar things now compare to the race back then, in certain respects. But for me to say more I would have to become specific, and I've already stated that this blog entry would not be about that. We'll just have to see if my feelings are correct come Wednesday morning. The world as we know it won't end whoever wins, however, so don't expect any major losing of one's shit here on this blog then. It's going to be business as usual for me regardless, so don't cry for me Argentina.

2) If you are a citizen and don't vote, you are an ignoramus. I'm sorry, but it's true. I don't care what your carefully rehearsed excuses are about the political leanings of the state you live in, the demographics of your neighborhood, or how you no longer live in the voting district you're currently registered for. Just STFU and admit that you suck at being an informed, participating citizen and would just like the country to run itself. It's okay, really. This country was set up to include and represent people like you, whether the rest of us like it or not.

3) Please stop with this Popular Vote vs. Electoral College debate already. People whom complain about the electorate voting system in place here in the States obviously don't know shit about how demographics work. This country would be a disaster if we chose our presidents based on a popular system. The nuances of the Electoral College are many, yes, and at times they may seem convoluted to the point of deliberate obtuseness bordering on the criminal . . . but it's still a whole lot more accurate than a popular vote could ever be. I will always support the electoral system we have in place here, even when at times it may seem to favor the other guy in the race. Just because the candidate you didn't vote for wins by a very small margin in electorate ballots doesn't automatically make the system bunk. It's still a far sight more civilized than the chaos and mob rule mentality that would reign were we ever to go back to the populist format. Ugh! No thanks, please. I'd like my leadership choosing system not to resemble American Idol-style pandering, thank you very much.

4) To those complaining about too many attack ads and annoying commercials on tv, I say: you still watch commercials? WTF dude, it's called a DVR. Fast forward through that crap! Or, skip tv altogether and do something else. I think throughout this entire year I might have seen maybe three pro-Romney or pro-Obama ads combined. And somehow I've managed completely to miss any negative ads out on both candidates. True, New York is not a battleground state and so I have less inundation of these particular tv spots than those in say, Ohio, do. But then I also believe commercials were made to be ignored, and you have only yourself to blame for paying so much attention to them. Me? If I can't fast forward through them, I find myself checking e-mail or Facebook on my phone until the program I'm watching resumes. Romney could come on tv hawking Joseph Smith's golden underwear and it would barely register a blip on my care-o-meter. If you already know where each candidate stands on the issues, as well as their track records in such regards, then those ads have nothing new to tell you anyway. Just ignore them. The rest of us certainly do.


And there you have it. My general thoughts and feelings on the political climate the day before an election. I may elect (pardon the pun) to post something equally vague and non-impacting come Wednesday when (hopefully) all the hooplah is over. Or I might not.

Just please, for the mother of all that's good, please go out and vote if you are eligible to do so. Don't be a mouth breather, not on this.

Thanks all!

Aftermath, Plus More

So, as you all know by now, that bitch Sandy did quite a bit more damage to the Northeast than even I had anticipated. New York City is one hell of a mess right now, but even worse are the surrounding seaside communities in New Jersey. Jeez, Louise! My heart goes out to all those people who have lost their loved ones, their homes, and their security.

My area came through unscathed, though, and so I suppose there are some blessings to be thankful for. All my family and friends are fine, too. Even better! It's going to be a while before subways are running again and power is restored to most of the city. So in the meantime I'm stuck at home working via my company's VPN and managing my people who are in varying stages of okay to living in the pre-Industrial Age. But we'll persevere. Thanks for all the concern, comments, and e-mails everybody. I truly appreciate it, I really do.

I did mention a short story of mine I recently finished. It's been a while since I've written one to completion, due to all the personal issues I've been going through this year (and which shall remain vague here on this blog). But I'm proud of it. As I said before, it requires some editing and a lot of polish, so I'm going to be busy with that for the next two weeks or so before I send it out to my first line of readers and then eventually to the markets. God I hope that particular line bites.

And just for fun, I've decided to paste a little passage from the new tale to whet your appetites. At least, I hope it whets it . . . and not whatever the hell the opposite of whetting is. Dulling? Yeah, I hope it doesn't dull your appetites, folks. Oh hell, let me stop typing and just paste the damn thing already.

Here you go:

". . .But the words get caught on his tongue when he notices your other eye. The one that’s definitely not human, but something out of every boy’s darkest nightmare. The inky black eye of the monster under the bed, that gremlin in the closet. The demon crawling out of that TV screen. Whatever they call it, you’re all that and more wrapped neatly into a slim five-foot-ten frame chosen to put your prey at ease. But the poor boy looks ready to wet himself. You’ve dropped your guard and he’s spied what no mortal has ever seen or lived to tell. It’s his lucky day, though. It’s not his time to die, and you have other fish to fry besides."

What in god's name could I possibly be writing, you're wondering after that? Well, you're just going to have to wait. I had a lot of fun writing that paragraph and many more like it, though. Usually that's a good sign for the story as a whole, but I will have to wait and reserve any real judgment until after the 3rd draft is complete.

Keep your fingers crossed for me!

Storm's Comin

Working from home today because the city is shut down due to "Frankenstorm" Hurricane Sandy currently bearing down on the northeastern seaboard. Landfall is estimated to be a few hours from now, just a little south of Atlantic City, although I wouldn't find it far-fetched if it lands somewhere north of there. Either way that places New York City directly in the path of the hurricane's strongest winds on its northeastern quadrant. Already we're experiencing over 50 mph winds, and the worst won't even come until after 6 tonight when winds are projected to reach anywhere between 80 and 90 mph at their strongest. Yikes!

Of course, the actual worst part is not so much the winds (we've weathered worst hurricanes, wind-wise), but the huge storm surge it will bring when high tide comes. We could see 11 foot waves crashing into lower Manhattan, which is more than high enough to breach the barriers in place down there. And wouldn't you know it, that's near where I work!

Luckily the city's had the foresight to shut down the metro system and tell everyone to stay home. I'm doing fine where I live, as we're quite elevated above the rest of the city and all our power lines are beneath the ground. Living here all my life, we've never once had the power shut down due to a storm. Not once. And so long as I have my Internet and refrigerator, I'm sitting pretty and waiting the whole thing out.

So, in other words: I'm doing fine, my friends. Completed the short story I've been working on last night and looking forward to going back in and pruning about 2,000 words or so. Will be one hell of an edit, but I think I can do it. I want to get the story under 5k words if possible, although that might be too tall of an order for the type of tale I wanted to tell. We'll see.

How are things in your neck of the woods? If you're in the path of Sandy as well, how are you faring?

Lastly, I hope you all are preparing for Halloween later this week. Last year Mother Nature came as a Nor'easter. This year, she's a hurricane. Can anyone top that?

Where I Write

It's no secret that writers are strange people. And even stranger still are some of the odd habits they keep while engaging in their craft. I for one cannot write with a pencil. I absolutely abhor pencils, have ever since I was in the first grade. I have a peculiar aversion to the feel of graphite rubbing on paper, you see. It sets my teeth on edge! But when it comes to writing, I seem to have lost the ability to write with pen and paper as well. Everything I've written since the age of about 16 has been on some sort of electronic medium--a word processor in high school, or some variation of the personal computer ever since. Writing stuff longhand is simply far too slow for my needs. I need a keyboard of some sort.

Jane Austen's desk. (Photo credit:
Eamonn McCabe.)

Then we come to where a writer writes. I'm amazed sometimes by all the spoils and riches some aspiring writers need to get themselves going. Some need to be out in nature with a yellow pad in order to get some inspiration, while others can go for long sessions at the local coffee shop. Some writers have big, elaborate home offices with pretty tapestries hanging on the wall and large bay windows overlooking some picturesque landscape, where everything is situated just right to conduct proper writerly affairs. And still others need only a small corner of the bedroom to ply their trade. Worst, however, is the writer that seems to crave more the knowledge that other people can see him writing big important writerly things in public rather than the actual task of creating something worthwhile. This is the pretentious writer type, whom I loathe with a passion.

Then there's where I fit in. And here I take a page from Stephen King, who must write with absolutely no distractions. His preferred writing spot when he was an up and comer was either the attic space when he was younger, or in the basement seated next to the heater when he was older. This is so me. I'm not very particular in the decor of where I write, but it must share some basic characteristics. For one, I need to face the wall. Preferably a bare wall with little to no hanging art. Second, no windows. I get easily distracted and the last thing I need is to be able to see the whole wide world outside when trying to focus on my own created worlds. And lastly, my space needs a door. Because, see, whenever I sit down to write creatively, I mentally shut the world out around me. And a door is that one physical link to the actual world that can correlate with the symbolic action of shutting all the nonsense out. Keeping it behind the barrier, as it were.

My desk, no fuss no muss. Okay, a whole lot of muss!

My space is cozy, bland, and best of all--easily cut off from the rest of the house around me. Once that door closes, everyone knows to leave me the hell alone until I emerge, hours later, bleary-eyed and drained of color. This is how I roll. Over the years I've been unable to write well any other way. On a laptop on the Amtrak to Philly? Nope! Won't work, too many bumps and station stops. In a cubicle at the local library? Nope, still too many noises and people walking by. I've never tried a coffee shop before, simply because I don't drink coffee and can't tell you the last time I've ever walked into one. But I'm pretty sure that wouldn't work for me, either. I mean, I can write low-energy stuff in such situations: work related docs, e-mail . . . this blog. But to write creatively I crave silence and solitude.

To me it all makes sense. I don't know about you. So tell me, what is your process? Better yet, where do you write?

A Driving First

So this past weekend I drove my grandma, sister, sis's boyfriend, and their dog 130 miles north up to my aunt's house in rural upstate New York for a family get together, and in the process experienced a driving milestone that I've managed to go 18 years avoiding. Yes, I got pulled over by a state trooper for speeding!

GASP!

I saw the dude, too, right at the last moment. Parked against oncoming traffic in a tree-shaded ditch just past the shoulder. I had already avoided five similar speed traps prior to this one, and was only 20 minutes away from my aunt's home when it happened. Grrrrr! Ain't that often the case? Well, what the hell would I know? Like I said, this was the first time such a thing has ever happened to me. So I zoomed right past the guy and immediately knew I was in trouble. And so I did what any honest, law-abiding driver would do: I immediately shifted into the right lane, slowed down, and tried to hide among the other cars travelling the road with me.

But I guess these guys have seen this trick before. Because, nope, didn't fool him one bit! Next thing I knew, blue and red lights were flashing in my rearview. Shit! So I pulled over and this very young state trooper dude comes up to my window. My sister's dog is barking nonstop from the back seat, mind you, but this didn't seem to faze the guy at all.

After asking for my licence, he asked: "Why are you in such a hurry?"
Me: "I have no idea."
Him: "Do you know what the speed limit is?"
Me: "Fifty-five?"
Him: "And do you know how fast you were going?"
Me: "Uhhhh . . . seventy?"
Him: "Seventy-seven!"

Ouch! Busted! Yes, sometimes I have a bit of a lead foot, folks. Especially on super long, sparsely traveled scenic highways when I'm bored out of my skull. And especially when I'm almost--just ALMOST--at my destination. But the trooper was a nice sort, and seemed to warm up when I told him of our destination. I guess he was a local and knew the town where my aunt lived. He must have figured I wasn't some out of town gunrunner or something, just blowing through on my way to Canada. My granny certainly wasn't packing, anyway. So he ran a check on my license, found that, as usual, my record was completely clean, and then let me go with just a promise that I wouldn't do that again.

I told him that I wouldn't, and I meant it. I really did. But of course . . .

Anyway, so that was my brief and first real run in with "the law" this weekend. How was yours?

Oh, and before I go, here are some pics of the rental car and my aunt and uncle's property where we had a cookout and even a bonfire going to ward off the mid-October chill. The last three pics are panoramas acquired using the new automatic function on my iPhone 5. Pretty nifty for "cheating" your way through wide-angle shots. As always, clicke for larger views.

The Ford Escape in front of my aunt's house.
Not bad for a Zipcar.

My aunt's driveway, with their newly purchased trailer in the back.

Bonfire a-brewing out back. My sister's dog, Shiva, in the foreground.

Food and beer aplenty out on the patio. One of the guests
brought their own pooch, Ralph, to the party.

As you can see, they're not quite at peak foliage season up in the higher elevations of New York state yet--but they're very close! Of course, down here in the city we won't be seeing those colors until the end of the month or right around Election Day.

She Drives Me Crazy!

"... Like No One Else! She Drives Me Crazy, And I Can't He-elp My Se-elf!"

So, it seems that article I wrote earlier last week discussing the dangers of judging people based solely on their looks went over rather well with followers of The Bimillennial Man. And not just among the usual commenters, I might add. Someone contacted me in response to that post and posed the following paraphrased question:

"So, just for kicks, what do you find attractive in a woman?"

Oops! Forgive me. I suppose in all that writing I forgot to cover this particular base. Although reading between the lines it becomes rather apparent what I don't find attractive in a woman, right? Still, I've given the question some thought. And though I don't actually live by a do or die list of qualities she must pass in order to earn my undying devotion, there are certain physical and intellectual traits in a woman that turn me on immensely. To make things easier, I'll separate them into those two categories:

Kids Remember More Than You Realize

Kids are aware of a great many things going on around them than most adults realize. Especially the unpleasant things. I'm often amazed by how quickly parents forget what it's like to be a child, in fact. Sometimes we need to take time out and remember that children are not miniature adults. Some of what you enjoy as a grownup does not necessarily correlate neatly with the needs and wants of a child. Sometimes we forget just what the world looked, smelled and tasted like to us as children. Other times, things simply get lost in the translation of our muddled memories. Memories which, if only properly recalled now that we're supposedly more "mature," might help us understand the antics of that screaming toddler in the corner. For instance: do you even remember what orange juice used to taste like when you were a child? I don't know about you, but I do! When I was a young lad, I can remember orange juice tasting extremely bitter and acidic. I wasn't very fond of it, but now I absolutely LOVE the beverage. It's so sweet and tart and, when properly chilled, can be quite the thirst quencher. But try telling that to a preschool aged David. He was having NONE of it!

It's In the Eye of the Beholder

I've been thinking lately about the importance society places on physical beauty. We all know that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, after all. What I find physically attractive in the opposite sex might not be the same qualities another man appreciates. And that's fine. Life would be pretty dull, if not just a little contentious, if we all found the same selection of people hot.

The iPhone 5: Why I'm Not Underwhelmed

Well, my birthday came and went without much fanfare as usual. For those into details, it was a week and a half ago on Sep. 7th, and I turned 36. And while I didn't do anything on that day except complete one more revolution around the Sun, I did bake brownies in celebration. So that's something!

Anyway, seeing as how it is my birthday, and also seeing how I've had my current iPhone 4 for over two years now, I thought it was nice of Apple to schedule a major unveiling of their latest iteration of this popular product line around the same time. As a mild technophile I always suspected I would be getting the next iPhone anyway. Not just because I was due for an upgrade, but because I really do enjoy the form factor and GUI of Apple phones. So it was a no-brainer that the iPhone 5 would be this year's birthday present to myself. All I needed to see was a reasonable improvement over my current phone. That's it.

And that's not only what I got, but a bit more.

The iPhone 5 (left) vs. the iPhone 4 (right). Fight, fight, fight!