Dinner has been cereal for a few days.  It’s not that I’m lazy, but rather, I have been fairly convinced a small alligator had worked his way through our underground pipes somehow and was residing under my sink area.  The kids and I have been hearing a strange chirping sound from the kitchen and we all concurred it definitely, maybe sounded like a baby gator.  Every time we heard the noise, some one would scream and the chirping would start back up.

Although our knowledge on gator noises is limited to Google (it’s not a hissing or bellowing gator, more of a baby gator noise), we do watch The Swamp People Show enough to know we don’t want that kind of trouble.

I have quickly been making 3 minute dinners, to limit my time in the kitchen. Frozen burritos are out as they take two minutes a piece and with our family size, I might as well be cooking in the middle of gator land.

I payed my six year old three dollars to quick look under the sink, which resulted in more chirping and subsequently more screaming..  She didn’t see anything but did knock over the 409 resulting in a small toxic spill that I left – because there is an alligator under my sink area.

After we had exhausted all good (and bad) ideas, I shared my trouble with a friend..

” I think there is a baby alligator making a frog like noise  under my kitchen sink .”

“Hmm.  It’s probably just a frog.”

Well, yeah that makes sense.  A round of hot pockets for everyone tonight!

In high school, Eric’s job was to listen to my boy troubles.  And oh boy, did I have trouble.  He was and still is a solid friend who makes me laugh.  Here goes it..

Nicole says: ” Eric, what is your title?”

Eric says: “At work?  We are consulting engineers.  I am a project engineer.  Would you like to know my wife’s title for me around the house?”

Nicole says: “Nooo.”

Nicole says: “How did you get into engineering?  You didn’t seem that smart in high school.”

Eric says:  ”It was an accident, really. I wanted to be an architect first and a family friend who worked with architects was trying to help me find a part time job with one of his contacts. He needed help around his office and learned that I was pretty capable with AutoCAD, math and science. He was a mechanical engineer and before long I was working with him full time. I switched majors and well, one day I looked up and realized what I had done. I was lucky really, since he specialized in health care, there was always work. The market doesn’t really fluctuate like other engineering specialties such as commercial, real estate, manufacturing and defense. People are always getting sick, you know.

Nicole says: “Do you ever call yourself an Imagineer just for kicks?  That’s a fair question.”

Eric says:  ”Chuckles, no. You have to have a Mickey Mouse on your name tag to get away with that one. I’ve had a Mickey Mouse name tag or two, but never as an engineer. I did drive a monorail once, and that was the coolest job I ever had. I think a large percentage of young engineers aspire to be Imagineers, but a lot of waiters aspire to be actors, too. I’m not sure what that meant, but it reminds me of a waiter I once met who gave up being an air-traffic controller to work at a restaurant. It was a swanky place so the money was good, and he said he preferred working with people and food over working with pilots and computers. I think that reinforces the idea of knowing who you are and enjoying what you do.”

Nicole says: “So, you design hospitals, maybe you can answer this..what is the deal with colonoscopies?!    Seriously..”

Eric says:  ”Colonoscopies are an invasive procedure. The scope cleaning room is one of my least favorite places to visit. The first time I saw a six foot long scope, I nearly fainted. I believe the procedure is based in actual science now, unlike the turn of the century when people were just fascinated by the rectum.”

Nicole says:  ”Moving on.  How do you manage to give hospitals just the right ambiance of bland, scary and depressing?”

Eric says:  ”Budget dictates that ambiance. If you’re witnessing bland, scary or depressing at your local hospital, it is directly related to how much money The Board is spending on keeping up the facilities. Trust me, if they are not keeping up the finishes you CAN see, then they aren’t keeping up with a lot of other things you CAN’T see, either. I would recommend trying a different facility.”

Nicole says: “I just read an article of the top 20 most beautiful hospitals? Did you do any of those? If not, tell me about the Red Lobster you designed.”

Eric says:  ”I just looked at a top 20 list and I didn’t see any of our clients listed there but the the pictures I saw were no more impressive than any of our hospitals. As engineers, we don’t get to dictate how beautiful the hospital is, the architect does that. Our job is to make the building work. We make it comfortable, clean, and quiet. The lights always have to work, the toilets always have to flush, etc. Our work has to be invisible, silent, and result in the lowest energy usage possible. Our best work is when no one even notices us…which is kind of the opposite of beautiful, isn’t it.

Wait, I think I messed up the answer…Nope, none of those were mine. I did make a really sweet looking Red Lobster once, though. The prototype actually, so you can go to any modern store and see (or not notice) any of my work.”

Nicole says: “You told me you have designed post offices..do they use the term “going postal” around the water cooler or is that taboo?”

Eric says: ” That is so taboo I can’t even tell you. USPS workers are under more scrutiny than anyone else I can think of. It’s bizarre to me because they always look so serene driving those little jeep/van thingys around in their shorts and black socks. I’m not supposed to talk about the design of the buildings, seriously. But these folks have to worry about anthrax, mail-bombs, break-ins, theft, vandalism and such, all under the ever-watchful eye of the dreaded Postmaster General (which will be the name of my villain if I ever make a graphic novel).”

Nicole says: “Aren’t the Red Lobster’s cheddar biscuits awesome?”

Eric says: “The Red Lobster biscuits are one of the marvels of high-volume food production. I didn’t think anything would surpass the Big Fat Yeast Roll but alas, it was dethroned by the cheddar biscuit. I had the recipe once and it was shocking how bad they are for you. I can’t stop eating them though, so I’ll probably wind up lying in one of my hospitals one day because of it…wondering where that hissing noise is coming from.”

I am exhausted.  I have consulted expert after expert for this piece and that kind of research is hard work.

Readers, I have concerns…. I happened to watch the movie  ”Independence Day” again last night. I can’t shake the feeling that we as a human race are unprepared.  Someone needs to ask the hard questions.  Since I am alone in my house, I guess that would be me.

I began my research on a potential alien encounter by going straight to the source.  I have a neighbor who works closely with NASA. I’m not sure what he does there (an engineer of some type) but I do know he leaves super early for work on his commute to the cape.

I defer to him on all things spacey.  Just the other day, in the front yard, we were discussing  how scientists using NASA’s Fermi Space Telescope have detected antimatter produced above thunderstorms on Earth, a phenomenon never seen before.   Oh how we laughed..

“Do you think alien life forms exist?” was my question.

His reply is as follows.

“Well, if we look at the Drake Equation as a representation of the number of civilizations in the universe we can see that much of the work and research in this area is speculative at this point, and based largely on assumptions of other civilization’s level of technological advancement.

I’d say the odds that, given the sheer number of solar systems in all of the galaxies in the universe, our planet just happened to be the right distance from our star such that this is the only place life has formed are pretty slim.

Perhaps a shorter answer would be along the lines of “how can life NOT exist somewhere out there?”

This is what I was afraid of..

If we do experience contact with extraterrestrial beings, we need a plan.  I propose we form some type of International Committee.  We will meet once a week forever while taking volumes of meeting minutes that no one will read.

I advise selecting committee members from China, Finland, South Korea, Singapore and  New Zealand (I googled countries with the smartest populations).  We will meet in the US of course, as it’s more convenient.  I will ask my one reader from China if he is free on Wednesdays.

I consulted another expert  (he works with computers with code..I don’t know) to ask  ”What type of first contact would you expect to see from alien life forms if it happens?”

His reply was  ”earth explodes.”

Ok…let’s go ahead and get an email out to get that first committee meeting on the calendar.

Tags: aliens, office humor

I have never once been able to see the Magic Eye pictures.  You know,  the  patterned images that once you stare long enough, will yield an amazing 3d experience that rivals reaching the summit of  Mount Everest.

I used to lie while standing among others gazing  knowingly.  ”Yes!  I see it! It’s a  dinosaur hatching from an egg.  No?  Right. I mean its a little heart surrounded by baby hearts!  Unbelievable!  How do they do that?!”

But then I had children who would look at them on the computer in awe and I realized maybe something is wrong with my brain.  I found the website for the most popular poster sales and emailed to ask if there are others like me.  People who can’t see the baby hearts…

Here is the response:  Along with my running commentary in red.  Happy Friday!

Most Magic Eye problems have to do with the way the eyes work with each other and the brain. To view 3D stereo images, your peepers have to work together as a coordinated team. If they’re not pulling together, you’re going to have some glitches in your binocular (two-eyed) vision or stereo vision (where the two slightly different views from your eyes are combined in the brain). A number of things can cause binocular and stereo vision impairment — most commonly, deviations or misalignments of one or both eyes (“crossed eyes” or “wall eyes”), situations where one eye is dominant because visual stimulation either transmits poorly or not at all from the other, astigmatism or cataracts. If you think you have an eye problem, go see an eye doctor who can test and treat your stereo vision.

Well.  I don’t like the word peepers.  And I don’t like people saying my eyes are not “pulling together” either.  I am pretty sure I don’t have a “crossed eyes” situation thank you.  That might have come up in the last 29 years.. (another cleverly disguised joke here).

I also don’t think I want to pay a $250  optometrist co-pay to test and discuss my stereo vision impairment.  But thank you for the information.

So the next time someone shows me a picture and says “Do you see that?!”  I will calmly answer “Actually no.  One or both of my eyes are deviated and possible misaligned.”        Awkward..

Yes.  The Super bowl will be on in my house.  No, I won’t really be watching it.  Don’t get me wrong.. I will be busy.  I just won’t be watching the game the way you might.  So enjoy your day and good luck to your favorite team.  Here is what I will be doing.

1.  Waiting for the commercials then miss them because I had to run to the bathroom.  Annoy the family because I will insist on going back and replaying any of them with animals 3 more times.

2.  Rooting for the smallest dude on the field.

3.  Watching the cute players….  Don’t judge me.

4.  Making and serving chili.  Eating an ungodly amount of chili.

5.  Blocking the tv, making my family scream while I get close to see if that guy in the red shirt might be a dude I work with.  It won’t be.

6.  Cleaning out my purse.

7.  Making the comment “football is sooo rough.  I am glad I have girls”   about 20 times.

8.  Asking “Which team is in the blue?”

9.  Eating Doritos because I feel morally obligated.

10. Drinking wine which explains the above 9.

Well, Each year magazines publish a top 10 list reflecting on the year.  For me, 2011 was the year my mother got on Facebook.  Once she sees this, I may be written out of the will.  But we really aren’t the Rockefellers are we?  Enjoy ~

# 5.    Ha Ha!! I just knew pouring a pot of water up your nose had to end badly. For you proponents who have tried to extol the benefits to convince me, NOT GONNA DO IT!!!      This was in relation to her shared link  ”Deaths of Neti Pot users prompts tap water warning.”

#4. Nutella was all the rage on the owl box. We talked abut ways to use it when there was little owl action going on. I came up with put it over ice cream. Delish! Refering to watching Molly the Owl box on live web cam.. My brother was most disturbed by the term “owl action.”

#3.  Just got home to no internet and no phone, so I fixed it with a paper clip!!     One of the comments reads “Watch out!  There is a new McGyver in town.”

#2.  Almost burnt my back deck to pieces!!  The firemen were sooo helpful and even waited around to make sure the fire was out.  They left their hat but I returned it to the fire station!         Wow..Remind me to check out nursing homes in 2012..

#1.  Got what I thought was my terminally ill car back from the car hospital last night! Turns out it’s all fixed at no expense to me since the computer sensor went caflooey on their watch. I love the Bumby Goodyear! They even threw in the synthetic blend lube, oil and filter change for free to compensate me for my inconvenience!       There is a lot going on here, including the use of the words caflooey and synthetic blend lube..

I recently came across a most interesting site and felt compelled to share.  It is a compilation of several articles, interviews and excerpts from books about Albert Einstein’s personal struggle with faith, definitions of one’s purpose and his overall view of life.  I am obsessed with the genius brain and people with “complex personalities.”  I cannot wait to see what treasures can be found in these readings.

Math and science gifted minds are common.  A philosophical brilliance seems a bit rarer.  Nietzsche will have to make do with out me for a few days

“Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.”  Einstein in a personal letter

http://einsteinandreligion.com/index.html

I received an incoming text while in the middle of dinner dishes a few nights ago.  It was from a friend who I thought was travelling on business and all it said was “It’s 5.”

Thinking the text was sent to the wrong contact, I ignored it and kept washing.  Anyway, it was 8 pm.

Next text, “It’s 5!!!”  Ok, now I’m curious.  I dry my hands and call him.  He answers right away and sounds annoyed.  ”5 what?!” I ask trying not to laugh.

This is the conversation in rapid fire..because that’s how it happened:

“5 what?!!?”

“5 DEGREES!!  I am in Minnesota on business and it is 5 degrees!! I am not even sure humans can survive this cold!! I stopped at Wal Mart and bought some under pants pants.  They call them thermal underwear and they are PANTS you wear UNDER PANTS!  They are not helping at all.Tell me why they would send a native Floridian to Minnesota in December?!  What kind of company does that?  I am only outside from the car to the office and back but when the wind hits me, I see Jesus.”   (He never pauses for a breath and I am holding mine)

I don’t think I ever got a response in.  He said something about his fingers freezing and I may have heard him drop the phone.  I assured myself this was just venting and not voicing a last cry for help.  I hung up.

I finished the dishes and made some Christmas peppermint bark.  And wrote a post about my cold (possibly dead) friend in Minnesota don’t you know!

I admit it, I have been neglecting you. My personal life has been busy and time got away from me.  I received several complaints this week about lack of new content.  But it was a text from a reader today that caught my attention.  I called him back and he was very demanding.  For $14.99 per month subscription fees, he expects to be entertained.  Shhhh.  He doesn’t know how the blog process works.  Anyway.  He stated that if I don’t post something new tonight, he will occupy my blog.  Not sure what that means, but I’m not looking for trouble.

So, here is a quick series of updates about the last two months of my fabulous life.  Enjoy!

Had an amazing trip to France and Switzerland in October.  But Europe is always amazing, except for that time my friend went to Amsterdam…wait, I think that was a movie.  Moving on.

I had new tile installed on the front porch.  The first time it rained, I slipped and the mail man had to help me up.  I think he laughed then tried to cover it up but we don’t talk about it.

My novel in progress is on hold because I have not made the necessary edits.  When an acquaintance asked when it will be out, I pushed her and screamed “It will be ready when it’s ready!!”  Court ordered sensitivity training has been quite helpful..

And finally, my sister in law gave me my Thanksgiving dinner assignments and said “bring that really good corn casserole you had last year.”  I am pretty sure I didn’t make one last year or if I did then I don’t remember.  I will Google “really good corn casserole” the night before Thanksgiving.

That is all.

I enjoy writing about psychology..but I am NOT qualified to give advice on the matter.  I receive all types of emails from readers who don’t want to leave a public comment.

This one stood out..  A portion of the famous Thoreau quote came to mind..”Most men lead lives of quiet desperation..”  You see, I am not judging the reader.  I am admiring her insight and ability to verbalize her situation.

So with permission, I give a portion of the email…

“I think the meat manager at Publix is cute.  I drive past my closer grocery store just to see his smiling face.  As our eyes meet, I wonder if Publix trains their employees to be extra friendly or this is a special moment.  Whenever I see him, my stomach does a weird flip flop.”

So this is a local reader and I decide field research  is warranted.  I go to the meat department in question on a Saturday.  I was instantly irritated at myself for being so foolish.  Of course he wasn’t there because managers don’t work on Saturdays.  I call the reader (Yes this narrows the list of possible readers..You might find it shocking that much of my fan base is comprised of my  friends..moving on.)

Our conversation is as follows:

Reader:

“Oh!  you can’t go on Saturday!  Wait!  Look above the sushi stand, his picture is in a frame since he is the manager.  Do you see it?  You know the cozy cottage yogurt is off to the right..”

Me:

“I can’t believe I’m doing this”

I saw his portrait and I can’t say I see it.  However, I am happy a meat manager can bring about enthusiasm and joy to some one’s life.

So much so,that they say the words out loud.  The rest of Thoreau’s quote is the best part..  ”Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.” Not this reader.  She is going to hum her way all the way through the meat department.  Good for her!

Tags: Thoreau

This interview is different than my other work. I can’t decide why, except to say that the discussion developed quite naturally and  there was no “angle.”

Christopher Howard is an independent curator and critic in New York.

Nicole says: For the record, can you tell my valued readers what your current job is?

Chris says: I can tell you. I work as managing editor at the College Art Association, a nonprofit art organization that has employed me for almost ten years. But we’re not here to talk about my day job, right?

Nicole says: Right. However, the question is would you consider writing or art your true passion?

Chris says: I don’t consider either a true passion. The writing I do—for CAA and for other publications—is hard work. Perhaps I don’t understand the term passion, or wouldn’t use it to describe myself. Passion makes me think of silly romance movies. I’m too level headed, down to earth.

Nicole says: Do you enjoy the art you like writing about? Or do you enjoy the writing more?

Chris says: I was getting too esoteric too quickly—forget what I just said. I enjoy looking at art very much, but find that I cannot write about anything. It’s difficult even to write about something I unequivocally love, enjoy, or find impressive. Often it’s the puzzling art that compels me to write a review—the stuff that sticks in your mind after I leave the gallery or museum. Think of it like the song that gets stuck in your head: it’s annoying but catchy, irritating but undeniably appealing.

Nicole says: Is it because art is subjective?

Chris says: Maybe. I can’t imagine how someone could write subjectively about auto parts. Then again, maybe that would be a text worth reading.

Nicole says: Do you think there is a fine line between brilliant art and garbage?

Chris says: No, there’s a range, a span—not a fine line. Some works of art can quickly jump from one end to the other. The main reason why I write about a particular exhibition is to understand it. In that regard, I write mainly for myself. So, why would anyone care to read what I think? That’s a question I haven’t thought much about. As a reader, I like reviews by other people to see how someone else viewed the same exhibition I did. Or I can read criticism and then go see the show myself. Writing is a way of breaking the conversational ice, or adding to a conversation that’s already taking place.

Nicole says: It’s funny you said it has become esoteric. I think my blog has begun that way. I often run things by an alpha reader to see if it has any appeal to the mainstream reader. So I see your point.

Chris says: Thinking about what you wrote earlier about genius or whatever: dumb people can say brilliant things (or make incredible art), and the most intelligent people can produce overwrought garbage.

Nicole says: Indeed. So what do you look for when discovering new talent? What is the “it”?

Chris says: Oh I don’t know. When I am organizing an exhibition—something I do in addition to writing—I look for art that fits the idea I have in mind. Other times I’ll look at images online (in websites called artist registries, where artists upload images, their bios, and contact information) and let the idea come to me from looking. There’s no formula, and I like most everything: painting, drawing, photography, video, and so on.

Nicole says: Yes. It’s sort of an organic development?

Chris says: Organic, yes. It feels natural. There are artists whose work I have seen for several years that I haven’t done anything with—the time and place has to be right.

Nicole says: Well, would you say that where you are emotionally at any given time might influence what you see in others work?

Chris says: How I feel emotionally has an impact more on if I want to leave the house that day, not on what I look at once I am out there. Other people’s creations, it seems, have never really taken my feelings into consideration.

Nicole says: Would you characterize yourself as creative?

Chris says: It’s interesting you ask that. In one circle of friends, which consists largely of artists, people automatically assume that I’m an artist too. They’re surprised when I say otherwise. I like to think I am creative, but I’m also very administrative oriented, always making lists of tasks and stuff. I always tell people that I should have gone into a career as a baseball statistician.

Nicole says: What project or series of projects would be ideal for your unique mindset?

Chris says: I would like to win the lottery so I could establish my own large gallery to do whatever shows I wanted to do. The gallery would be called the Lottery. Trouble is, I don’t gamble. As much fun as all that would be, and artists would certainly appreciate getting exposure through unfettered backing and resources, the art world doesn’t—and probably shouldn’t—work that way. Art dealers work hard to position and sell their artists’ work, and if galleries were run by rich dilettantes (wait, they aren’t?) who weren’t invested in success on multiple levels, other than the glamour of owning a white cube, well, that’s boring. But I’m not a good salesman.

Nicole says: I don’t know.

Chris says: Ok. I suppose understanding that position requires knowledge of how the profession works.

Nicole says: I think the passion lies on the artist in an ideal world. Which is where I live. In a world with rainbows and unicorns.

Chris says: Earlier, when you said “passion,” I thought of “drive.” Having reasons for doing things.

Nicole says: Yes. I get both terms. But the word passion for me is natural because I think about it as what I love. But motivation is another whole discussion, isn’t it?

Chris says: I can have a passion for stuffed toy unicorns, but it takes drive to build a climate-controlled public viewing room so everyone can see them.

Nicole says: Agreed. And so my questions stands. Is it the unicorns that drive you? Or the desire to discover and write about them?

Chris says: The desire to discover and write about unicorns will hopefully make those fictional animals become real as well as relevant. Art needs the kind of support by workers like me to create value and meaning. I guess. That doesn’t answer your question, does it?

Nicole says: No it does. It explains your drive.

Chris says: It’s the same kind of drive that makes teachers teachers, lawyers lawyers. Everyone has to have a job.

Nicole says: Did New York hand you desire to support the arts—or did you go to New York looking for it?

Chris says: One doesn’t move to Sweden to learn Spanish. New York has remained the center of the art world since the 1940s. In the US, New York is where the jobs are. The museums are there too.

Nicole says: So what advice would you offer me? As I am giving in to the passion (or drive) of seeing this novel thing through?

Chris says: Who was it that said genius is 10 percent inspiration, 90 percent perspiration? Get a stick of Old Spice and keep working at it!

Nicole says: And to those who say unicorns aren’t real you would say?

Chris says: If you write a story about them, then they become real. It’s right there, in the story.

Nicole says: They are real in my head.

Chris says: Is that a safe place to be?

Nicole says: No. And you can take that to the bank.

Tags: Art, New York

It’s rare for me to say this, but I deserve no accolades for this entry.  This piece practically wrote itself.

I just read a wonderfully cheerful article at the Time’s online magazine. And there is no easy way to put this.  People, the human race might be in trouble.

It was a  great piece entitled “The 100 Worst Ideas of the Century” by Melissa August, Harriet Barovick, Michelle Derrow, Tam Gray, Daniel Levy, Lina Lofaro, David Spitz, Joel Stein and Chris Taylor.   (That is a lot of contributors for one piece..just saying)

This was published in 1999 but these monumental brain bloopers are the real deal.  They don’t just stand the test of time.  They set the bar for failure.  Or lower the bar.  I’ll review that later.

Here are a few highlights I agreed with:

Staffing the White House with Interns During the Government Shutdown.

Spray-on Hair.

Letting Oliver North Near a Shredder.

The Titanic.

Bush’s Choice of Quayle.

Crystal Pepsi.

Sailing the Exxon Valdez into Prince William Sound

Rocky 5.

The Ugandan Space Program.

George Lazenby As James Bond.

A Few I may go to bat for, contradict, file an appeal, you get the idea.

Hair Club for Men  (surely bald men need love too.)

Infomercials (sometimes you know they are a scam but you just want to believe.)

Flowbee  (I know people socially where this would be an honest improvement to current hair                          cut)

Aerosol Cheese  (It has a function and a following.)

Geraldo’s Opening of Capone’s Vault  (He’s Geraldo..married to Connie Chung..Cut him a break.)

Cryogenics (After I turned the wrong side of 30, I don’t discount any cream, lotion, supplement, or a go in a cryogenic processor to preserve my youthful appearance.)  A girl needs options.

And just to offer a balanced perspective:  Here are a few of the most innovative ideas of the 21st century according to The Independent Science site:

Jet Engines

Nudism (I don’t know how to respond to that one)

Satellite navigation

Television

Miniskirts

Screw-top wine bottles

Read the full list here: more: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,991230,00.html#ixzz1A8tJhGOL

Nice work Melissa, Harriet, Michelle, Tam, Daniel, Lina, David, Joel and Chris.  Phew..

and http://www.independent.co.uk/news/science/50-great-ideas-for-the-21st-century-410543.html

I welcome any additional  ideas to either list.  Enjoy~

Tags: bad ideas

This is not a happy post.  I am bothered to distraction and will attempt to use my blog just this once as therapy.

Not the’ let’s find a solution type of therapy.’  The’ lay on the couch and pay someone to listen to me complain type of therapy.’

I find out last night that a documentary is in production under the same title as my novel in progress.  I have had the title “In the Shadow of a Monster”  in mind for years.  It feels as if you just had a baby girl and someone tells you the name Jessica has already been taken.

I did not take the news well.  At work this morning, a man asked why I seemed down.  I explained that my novel title was stolen.  To which he replied “What novel?”   Exactly…

I just walked away still self absorbed.  I can only hope that later if he ever reads a published book of mine, he will think I am well credentialed in matters of mental instability by my behavior.

My initial reactions were bad, not surprisingly.  I first decided to keep the same title and absorb the potential hit of a lawsuit.  Not  fiscally sound..

I then vowed vengeance to slightly alter the name and find comfort that my “Jessica” is more beautiful and brilliant than any dumb well funded and professionally directed documentary.  Not intellectually sound..

So the name of my novel must be changed.  I brainstormed with the book cover artist who said “I don’t think the term monster is essential.”  As well as “you seem really stuck on the term shadow.”  He is really saying “anything you pick might be better than what you had.”  Awesome.

So I begin again, to try and sum up 27 chapters into a few words.  I will make it original and not lame.  I have a few working title ideas on my paper next to my bed now.  On top of the list is  ”The Novel that was Supposed to be Entitled In The Shadow of a Monster.”

Tags: book title

Inspiration for this blog comes from many places.  And today it came from an unexpected email from “Frank”.  I can count on one hand how many emails I have received from the father of my children over the last 9 years and this is one of them.

It seems there is a bunny that sits on a co-worker’s desk that needed further explanation.  So here it is.

As my dad used to say..”it is what it is”  Well, it’s a bunny.  Thank you to Frank (who I didn’t know read my blog) and his very cool co-worker who  both agree this bunny is blog worthy.  Enjoy ~

Actual Email:

Hi  – can you put this on your website?….the bunny is  sitting on my colleague’s cubicle…really weird.

Here is what she says about it

“My mom has a tendency to bring home lots of items that are really of no use.  This one takes the cake. I came out into my garage after she had come back from a recent trip to visit my sister and found this thing looking at me.  It is an alcoholic bottle, filled with chili peppers, with a dirty, hacked-up bunny glued to it.  The cherry on top is the yellow/green highlighter on the teeth and the pot that is glued to his hands.  Why? You ask.  Well I guess we will never know why.  Still kinda speechless as to his purpose.  After the shock wore off, my girls and I decided to name him Spencer and keep his as part of the family   We are now in the process of creating a friend for him.”

The last sentence disturbs me yet I can’t wait to see what they come up with.

I received word that one of my most devoted readers had a run in with the law last week. Out of deep concern (for my site visit statistics), I immediately followed up. It turned into an interview of sorts (via a wall telephone and plate glass).

Reader: Apparently not using turn signals is a “gateway” offense. They don’t cite you for that offense; they follow you until you commit the next one. In my case, 12 mph over…and I’m certain that was my peak speed. Have you ever driven through Atlanta? Old people in Buick’s drive faster than that. It was a great way to end my 14 hour work day.

Me: Was the officer “sassy”?

Reader: Sassy?  No .  Assy?   Boy, Howdy!

Me: Did you have flashbacks of The Terminator cop and cry a little?

Reader: No but I’m certain he believed he was a little bigger than he actually was.

Me: Did he use the terms “menace to society, public enemy or road hazard to everyone”?  

Reader: He was very accusatory, yes. But those terms were not used by him…actually, I                applied those phrases to him while I waited for him.

It went like this:

Where you coming from?   (cop)

Work.

Where do you work?

Clarimont Road and….

WHAT’S THAT?!

Um…Clairmont…

I CAN’T HEAR YOU BOY YOU NEED TO SPEAK UP!

CLAIRMONT ROAD AND I-85!!

Uh-huh, where you headed?

Home.

Where’s that?

<long pause> Powder Spr….

WHAT?!

<longer pause>

POWDER SPRINGS, SIR!!!!!!!!

Where about?

WEST COBB, NEAR…etc.

uh-huh…<long pause> Working late?

Yes

WHAT WAS THAT?!

Yes, sir. Do you want me to step out of the car?

WHAT DID YOU SAY?

Would you like for me to get out of the car so you can hear me better? You don’t seem to be able to HEAR me from back there where I can’t see you.

Boy! You yelling at me?

It all went downhill from there, Nicole.

Final question to reader: Will you have internet access in prison?

January 23, 2011

Meeting called to order at 10 am.

Members Present:  Magnus Mannerheim (Finland),  Nicole Franco (Recording Secretary), Robert Lowry (Minnesota)

Members Absent:   Kaito Kobe (Singapore), Jeroen vanrijn (The Netherlands), Arikiwi Smith (New Zealand),  Bertrand Dupont (France).

Others Present:  Canadude

Proceedings:

Teleconferencing Kaito Kobe in was attempted, however it was 3 am in Singapore when call was placed.  Kaito Kobe has asked to be removed from said committee.

Business:

Motion to move next meeting to a central European location presented by Jeroen Vanrijn via email.

Vote: motion disapproved: no one at meeting in favor.

Motion to assemble a sub committee to conduct a long term intensive study on the inaccurate and often negative portrayal of alien life forms in the motion picture industry.

Vote: motion approved but committee cannot meet until Bob Lowry receives travel clearance from his cardiologist after recent angina attack.

Canidude reports he may have just received a prank call on his cellular but it could be his hard of hearing grandmother.

Mangus requests the operating hours of Walt Disney World for this week as he is in Orlando on vacation.

Motion to create a Power Point presentation of the first meeting and present at second meeting introduced by Bob Lowry.

Vote: Approved, all in favor.

Canadude reports he may have taken Sleep Aid medication instead of Sinus and apologizes for dozing off.

Motion to contact NASA officials to plan a tour of facility.

Vote: Approved.  2 in favor, 1 oppose unless a group rate is secured.

Canadude asked to be exempt from no cell phone rule as he is waiting for a text .

Meeting Adjourned at 10:33 am

Tags: aliens, Canada, office humor

This post will bring the Internet to its knees.  Businesses will close early.  The stock market will come to a screeching halt.  This post is hands down the funniest thing I have read or written and will break the Internet with the traffic generated.  I’m not even sorry.

Editor’s notes:

1.    My brother “Terrence” is known around as “The Reverend” because in the 70′s my parents gave a white baby an ethnic sounding name in some opinions. He has become known as  ”Reverend Terrence Clealotios Howard III of the Sacred Church of the Holy Ghost of Fire & Redemption” in some circles.  I call him Terry.

2.   This post is a bit long..Hang in there. It’s worth every word.

In Lee’s own words, God bless him…

Well Nicole, it was indeed a camping trip with Troop 24 of the Boy Scouts of America. We were granted permission by Silver Springs in Ocala, Fl to take a canoe tour through some of the back country of the Park.

It was a real honor to be allowed to do such a thing. It was not customary to allow the public into such dangerous waters. Silver Springs is host to not only a huge population of  quite large alligators which are know to be dangerous, but also a band of wild monkeys….Golden Monkeys to be exact. It is a little known fact, that these monkeys are rather dangerous/violent as well.
The day started out much like any other outing. I boarded the rear of a canoe after the safety briefing and started paddling down stream with a man who is now known as Reverend Terrence . Not long into our trip, we came to a small island that looked to have a few monkeys on it. I decided to take the canoe in for a closer look and maybe throw the sweet little monkeys a snack.

This turned out to be a terrible idea. I threw a few Peanut M&M’s to one of the little fellas and man did he like it. He instantly told all of his buddies and they went wild. I thought all was well until I noticed there was a series of Cypress Knees leading out into the water ahead of our canoe.

As we passed the knees, two thing happened. First, all of the monkeys darted out onto the knees and one lept for me and my M&M’s. It missed the M&M’s thankfully but connected perfectly with my shirt and inner cheek.

This is when the second thing happened.  I realized the Reverend had head phones on and was oblivious to the fact that I was being viciously attacked. As the battle raged on for what seemed to be a lifetime (at least in Monkey Years), they formed a chain and started trying to pull me out of the canoe.

We were biting each other and everything when it came time to make a decision. Jump into the alligator filled waters or do what no boyscout ever wants to have to do. Beat the snot out of a bunch of crazy monkeys with a paddle.

I took the second choice and stood up in the canoe (never a good idea) and started whackin’ monkeys as hard as I could. This is about the same time that the Reverend realized something was awry in the back of the canoe and turned around.

I can’t tell you what he saw, but I can tell you that it wasn’t pretty. The monkeys finally released me, I threw them the rest of the M&M’s and we paddled out of there. I will never forget the sounds of that moment ; me screaming like a little girl, monkeys screaming like monkeys and the rest of the Boy Scouts laughing so hard that they almost fell out of their canoes..

I think the Alligators were bummed I didn’t jump in, in retrospect. But if I had, I’m pretty sure wouldn’t be having this conversation.

A response from The Honorable Terrence Clealotios Howard III:

“This is 100% true, and the image will be burned into my memory for all eternity. This is the story, I tell people who then think I am 100% making up.  I have had to call Lee in the middle of the night to confirm it for people on several occasions. It was a flippin’ monkey chain attack… I don’t even think you could fully appreciate the magnitude of what that means if you haven’t seen it first hand.”

Tags: Boy Scouts, monkey attack

I like to know things.  I also like to google…. A LOT.  I recently came across separate articles that shed light on two famous and perhaps misunderstood men of history.  Here is my humble attempt to set the record straight.

#1. George Washington did not have wooden teeth.

He was the original dental victim. An article on MSN (Science and Technology) tells a compelling account of his…. teeth situation.

Scientists and historians plan to use laser scans of Washington’s dentures to help create new, expressive, life-sized figures of plaster and wax to show aspects of the 6-foot-3 Washington’s personality they consider underappreciated

“People know that Washington was great, but many people think he was boring and nothing could be further from the truth,” said James C. Rees, executive director of the Mount Vernon Estate and Gardens, Washington’s home in northern Virginia.

“Of all the founding fathers, he was the most athletic, the most adventurous and clearly a man of action,” Rees said.

Washington, contrary to his grim-faced portrait on the dollar bill, was a great dancer and horseman. He started losing his teeth in his 20s.

I’m not sure why they equate wooden teeth with boring or feel the need to spend the money and time on reproducing high tech science age teeth but God speed.

# 2. Napoleon Bonaparte was not short.

He may not have been short, but does goes down in history as wearing the most unfortunate, ill fitting pants on the planet earth.

It seems there was a discrepancy with the correct unit of measurement.

Wikipedia tells me:

He was not particularly short, and did not have a Napoleon Complex. After his death in 1821, the French emperor’s height was recorded as 5 feet 6.5 inches in modern international feet, or 1.686 meters.  There are competing explanations for why he was nicknamed le Petit Caporal (The Little Corporal), but few modern scholars believe it referred to his physical stature.

Another explanation is that Napoleon was often seen with his Imperial Guard, which contributed to the perception of him being short because the Imperial Guards were above average height.

I also found in my research that the historical Buddha was not fat.  I will just add that if history paints me as chubby, I will not be laughing.

I always try to validate any information I publish.

Some of the information above comes from Wikipedia.  With the second line on their site being “The free encyclopedia that anyone can edit ”,… well, you know what I’m saying.

photo: Sir Charles Locke Eastlake: Napoleon Bonaparte on board the Bellerophon in Plymouth Sound, 1816

Articles in full may be found here:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/6875436/ns/technology_and_science-science/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_common_misconceptions

I happened upon this amazing Polish photographer on a site naming him as one of the top urban photographers in the world.  His work speaks for itself, but what surprised me was how well Adam was able to express the beauty and inspiration behind the camera. If possible, I now appreciate his photos even more.  Enjoy~

Nicole: Thank you so much for talking with me.

Adam: Hello. Thank you for your appreciation. It’s great that you like my work.
I am happy to answer your questions, all the questions. So ask me.

Nicole:   Do you have a favorite piece of work?

Adam:
In principle, any of my work is of great value to me, especially emotionally.  A large part of the work formed spontaneously, in a fit of inspiration.

If I had to pick one of your favorites, it would be “Return Home “.
It arose during one of my favorite trips in the Tatra Mountains.
In the background, there is a small mountain with a hut and sheep used for cheese production.
However, in the foreground, is a woman-a typical inhabitant of those neighborhoods.
In this scene, I tried to present a possible intense atmosphere of this place and the universal truth of commitment each of us has to specific places. In this case we have a woman returning home. House as a symbol of the end of the road, returning to silence, peace and security. Mix here the most important and often contradictory emotions, it’s important for all of us.

Nicole: Does Poland’s history influence your work?

Adam:
The history of my country in no way corresponds with my work.
The nature of my work is not absolutely clear from the lush historical achievements of the country where I live.
The history of my country is sometimes interesting, but because of the temporal political scene and what was happening, I try to run away from those issues.  It does not involve the creative influence in my life.
The history of our country is firmly rooted in the consciousness of every one of us, and to some extent determines our behavior. But my work does not feel the burden, and it does not play into my creative life in the slightest.

Nicole: Where do you wish to travel?

Adam: I like the places where man has not left his imprint in any form.
Wild places, full of natural force, which dominates the man.
I respond to the very wilderness forests of Central Europe, the severity and diversity of Norwegian lands, picturesqueness, and gentleness and brightness of the southern slopes of the mountain country of Southern Europe.
But most appealing to me is the diversity of space in New Zealand. I was there recently, and gladly went for a short outdoor photography.

Nicole: I have read your work described as moody, dark and brooding. Is that accurate in your opinion?

Adam: I try to make my work very emotional;  to arouse concrete, simple and  primitive feelings.
The overriding intent is to build a mood that  simultaneously arouses two contradictory feelings: feelings of anxiety and a feeling of hope. The creation of the work of dark, dark and disturbing at the same time introducing a note of heat in the form of excitation offers light as a positive emotion.

An additional incentive is the lack of human figures. In this way, we become the most important element in the reception of these images.
I use a form devoid of specific content and messages, based on the emotional side – typically sensual.
I’m trying to bring emotional intensity to the work, not harmful associations and analogies to the truths of the mundane world.
My work is sensual art, typically based on the aesthetic experience.

Nicole: Is your personality reflected in your photographs?

Adam: This can not be avoided. Any form of creative art-reflects our interior. It is a kind of emanation of the soul and the perception of reality. If it were otherwise, it would be a creative expression that was inauthentic, spurious and unworthy of attention. My pictures are dark, but I do not consider myself a man with a dark and difficult character.  On the contrary, (big smile)  I like people, life and light.

Nicole: Is light an important element of your work?

Adam:  Yes, color and light are key elements in what I do. The lights I use locally, points, thereby constructing theatrical scenery. I think that this approach facilitates the creation of intimate, personal relationship of the recipient to the scene depicted.

Nicole:  What superhuman power would you have if you could choose? I would choose to read minds, as I spend a great deal of time trying to figure people out.

Adam: I will not be original
I just want to live longer, two or three times longer than a normal person. I would save the life of the same mind and the body. Or have an impact over time, controlling it so that the moments that are worth it, stay on longer.

Adam lives in Zielona Góra, Poland.  He exhibits typically once a year and has enjoyed a good deal of media success . His work has been used in several albums of Zielona Góra , the Society for the city of Bydgoszcz and in the creation of designs for bands.  He is currently on display in the Municipal Library, City of Zielona Góra.

Please see Adam’s additional works here:  http://alcove.deviantart.com/

Prints are for sale; details discussed individually.

Tags: Adam Andrearczyk, photography

Well, it was inevitable.  Francowrites.com has seen its first controversy.  Don’t worry…I have a fail proof plan to make everything right.

The Legendary Monkey Story posted on Jan. 27  has drawn attention from those who speak out against violence towards animals.  I immediately called my Public Relations Department to issue an appropriate official statement that reflects my personal view that all must be kind to the feathered and furry.  And scaley.

When I say Public Relations Department, I mean a guy I went to high school with, who helps me write when I’m in a jam.

Nicole: I need a short strongly worded response from Francowrites.com to PETA loving animal activists who are complaining about the monkeys being hit by canoe paddles post on Jan. 27 .

Eric:  Draft I

Francowrites.com hates hearing about smacking dumb animals with blunt instruments as much as anyone else, but this was for a good cause…namely, making people laugh.

Besides, after all the millennia it supposedly took us to out-evolve our cousins, I appreciate someone actually having the opportunity to prove we’re still better than them. I would have been really disappointed if the Reverend had his lunch money taken by these uncivilized bullies. I mean really, he was offering them charity and a little bit just wasn’t enough. How ungrateful!!

People, quit being so weird and you won’t have to hang out with animals so much.

Nicole: Draft 2

Francowrites.com is sorry that a small few of you do not have a good sense of humor about monkey chain attacks.  We assure you, this Boy Scout was highly trained (Boyscout Handbook) and did not use excessive force beyond defending his life and candy.

It happened 10 years ago and it is doubtful any monkeys involved in the incident are still alive even.  I mean.. what?  Are we supposed to go back and make amends with every damn monkey?

Come on!

Draft 3 (At the Advice of council)

In light of recent criticism regarding the manner in which a boy scout 10 years ago was wackin’ monkeys, Francowrites.com wishes to make clear we do not condone animal cruelty in any way, shape or form.

This site takes the sensitivities of the general public and issues of animal welfare very seriously and is sorry for any offense or distress the event or perception of this event may have caused.

*This is meant as a satirical piece.  PETA is cool, monkeys are cool.  All good. Please don’t email me.

It came to my attention that once again a dear reader had an unwarranted run in with the law. Francowrites.com takes a bold stance, “When you have a problem with one of our readers, you have a problem with us.”  Not that it scares anybody.

Here is the story told by our beloved boyscout and monkey advocate Lee.  The story was revealed through a succession of very angry Facebook status updates.  I think you will find, he was rightly upset.

Status: Dear $%$#   Game Warden, please don’t waste the two beautiful fish you seized from me yesterday for no damn good reason. Instead place them firmly into your  %^&% and die…..! Go home to your miserable life and sleep well knowing you ruined several peoples nice afternoon of fishing. And yes, I saw you hiding in the bushes…..you are not sneaky and I hate you.

2nd Status: Just to clarify, I threw fish I had caught yesterday back, because they were too big and violated state fishing guidelines. Some guy asked me if I wanted his fish when I was leaving and I said yes because they were perfect eating size and you are allowed 2 a day. I marked the 2 on my license and this Fish and Game agent jumps out of the bushes and arrests me because that guy had already given someone else fish that day.

3rd Status… They did take all the fish giver awayer’s gear and his license though. Damn “Aqua Fuzz”……

And then there is this in response to a few questions of my own.

Were you really arrested?

Yes, I was charged with a misdemeanor and have to appear in court next month. Minimum 2k fine and possible jail time or probation. And yes, for keeping fish some guy gave me on the way out to my car. I look forward to hiding a fish under the seat of his truck next time I see it there,

Lee is now busy building his witness list and will answer my follow up questions in the very near future. They include:

What is your planned defense for the court date next month?

Did you see what he did with the confiscated fish?

Do you think this petty arrest plays a role in a larger sting to take LeRoy Adams down?

Are you planning any organized picketing at your trial?

We will continue to follow this breaking story and assure all of my avid fishing enthusiasts that I will use all my influences (which is none) to right a wrong against the boy who dared to go toe  to toe with 37 Golden monkeys and lived to tell about it.

See Legendary Monkey Story here to see what an upstanding man we are dealing with.

http://francowrites.com/?p=687

In case you don’t know, I live on a happening street.  Neighbors are close knit and if you have too many wine bottles in your recycle bin on Tuesday, you’re going to hear about it.

A while back, I had a door bell problem that turned the neighborhood upside down.  My bell would ring on a regular basis and when I would answer, there was no one there. This happened for months.

My kids began to make fun of me.  They would scream “who is it? no one! ” every time the bell rang.  I started asking neighbors if they had seen anyone in my driveway.  I began to wonder if I was really slow getting to the door.  I was baffled.

I began to analyze the situation.  It never happened in the middle of the night.  It never happened when I wasn’t at home (ok,  that’s just a joke).  And it never happened to any of my other neighbors.

Finally, one evening the bell rang again.  I went to answer and of course no one.  It was then that my 9 year old says “oh! They are getting pizza again. Lucky.”

My mind started flashing back to all the ding dong and ditches.  My neighbors across the street had people standing on their porch every time. Be it pizza or visitors, a slow fog of understanding was rolling in.

Sherlock I’m not, but I knew there was some type of link. We waited for our neighbors to leave the next day so my kids and I could go full ninja.  I sent them over to ring the neighbor’s doorbell and yess… mine rang as well!  We then reversed the test, by ringing mine and listening to see if their dog barked. Noooo.  Mystery solved.  Sort of.

After some investigating (a few emails between me and said neighbor), we discovered that our wireless doorbells were interacting.  Here is a sample of him explaining the problem to me.  Oh yes, and he is the NASA engineer.

Me:  Why did our wireless doorbells  malfunction?  Was it because they both came from Lowe’s?

Neighbor: I would hope that the manufacturer would produce a wireless doorbell with
more than one frequency, especially since it’s possible for even next door neighbors to each buy the system. That would be like my Mustang remote opening the doors of your Navi. Now, I suppose it’s possible that the company does make multiple frequencies, but we just had the misfortune of purchasing exactly the same unit. That’s probably less likely than a lazy company or poorly thought out product

Me:   And exactly what is a frequency?

Neighbor:  Maybe we should just discuss in person this evening or something.

Poor guy.  Don’t bother.  Some things I know.  Mechanics of the universe.. not those things.

I had the amazing opportunity to watch the final launch of Space Shuttle Discovery yesterday in person with my family. It was one of those perfect days, where you realize in the moment just how great the memory you will have is going to be.

I have lived in Central Florida my entire life, so NASA, like Oranges and Walt Disney World played a central role in my childhood. A few days before the launch, I was reading the varied opinions of what the future holds for our beloved space program.

I had the desire and thankfully the ability to speak with 3  NASA/Contracted engineers spanning from the  Mercury projects to currently working on Shuttle support.  Their service to the space program reaches over 40 years. I was surprised to hear some sentiments echoed over and over even though these individuals had never met.  

My knowledge about NASA beyond the typical fan is limited.  I will simply reflect back to the readers what was said. I will first introduce each person interviewed and share their unique perspective. I will then follow up with a synopsis of the common thread that formed among those who helped shape this historical day.

“David K”

He began his career during the launch of the last Mercury mission and continued through the Gemini and Apollo programs. He was in the control room during the Apollo 13 situation at Kennedy Space Center. I have reserved some of his interview for a separate entry on that particular experience.

David had a sentimental tone, in his reflection of his career with NASA.  He enjoyed watching the successes from a one manned space craft to a full shuttle fleet.

“It’s unlike any other job I have ever had. It was rewarding and worth the constant risk of becoming unemployed.”  He went on to describe his colleagues as innovators, the early astronauts as test pilots and dare devils.

He states that it would  be his choice not to leave the future manned space crafts to the private sector.  He conceded that companies like SpaceX are filling a needed gap, but NASA serves a greater purpose than launching shuttles and rockets.

“NASA represents the US as a whole.  It is tied in to the morale of the country. It is something each one of us can be proud of.”

He also went on to say that much of the missions during his timeline were tied in with defense.  ”NASA does things we don’t even need to know about.”  He pondered how a private sector firm could perform some of these functions. He also felt NASA provides a unique oversight ability for further progress as they have an established history.  He explained there are vaults of drawings, mark ups and research done along the years.

“Tony P.”

Tony began in the early 1980′s right after the first shuttle launch. He was the only non-contractual NASA employee I spoke to.  He is solidly proud of the shuttle and feels that the retiring of the fleet was premature. He ended his career in the mid 1990′s.

“They could have safely gone another 3 years at least using the shuttle.  I know because I helped maintain them.  They basically rebuild the shuttle after each launch.  The situation we find ourselves in is simply due to Congress’ short sightedness.  I never imagined we would have experienced a lapse  in manned space crafts with no real alternative on the horizon.”

“This situation has nothing to do with the economy, but more with those in Washington who make the decisions not listening to those at NASA .”

“Richard B.”

Rich is currently working at KSC but does not expect to have a job after the final shuttle launch. He describes the morale among contractors as not so hot. NASA employees will probably fare better during the final wave of lay offs.  He feels at best, the new rocket is in the planning stages but knows there will be a long gap before his company’s services will be needed again.

A few things I heard repeated by each person was the surprise there was not further progress on an alternative to the shuttle.  There was frustration that congress was having them work on concepts that were never going to be used while brilliant ideas could be thrown aside due to politics.

There was a concern that overall technology advancements will be delayed since satellites, advanced GPS and cellular technology have grown along side the space program. They also expressed that the US could fall behind in defense related matters as other countries such as Russia, Canada, China, Spain and the UK will be sending up manned flights while we are grounded.

The specifics of ongoing contracts with new companies is complex and ever changing.  NASA has always used contractors and  gave a substantial amount to SpaceX as “seed money.”  It is true they are an American company, but it seems there is a desire for the “brand” of NASA to stay strong and in the forefront as the face of America’s Space Program among this group.

Overall, I found each employee to be proud of the accomplishments NASA has made so far. They want to continue the exploration reaching further into outer space, embrace new science and remain relevant as an organization on the global level. There is a pride that shows as the men talk about what NASA could do in the future with the right leadership and funding.  I never heard any of them speak about their individual contributions.  It was clear the successes are shared.

While watching the final launch of Discovery along side David and Tony, I think Tony said it best.

“Well..We did it again!”

Shuttle photo from www.newsup.net

“Forget your personal tragedy. We are all bitched from the start and you  especially have to be hurt like hell before you can write seriously. But when you get the damned hurt use it—don’t cheat with it. Be as faithful  to it as a scientist.” Ernest Hemingway, 1934 letter to F. Scott Fitzgerald

Have I felt “the damned hurt?”  Probably. I don’t speak of the daily trivial sufferings of the miserable human condition. Rather, the moment that tests one’s character, sanity and will to continue.  The moments we look back on and say “Yes, that’s the day things changed in my life.” It is this very hurt where you find yourself walking the world alone, hoping the center will hold. For some it does not.  For Hemingway, it surely did not.

For those, I have witnessed experience such hurt, methods of coping are often the response. Hemingway used alcohol and writing.  For the faint of heart, denial is a solid choice. For those truly broken, isolation. Faith can be a comfort for those who believe.  The list goes on and on.

But where does the true healing take place?  How can one reconcile a hurt capable of breaking someone completely with ending up whole on the other side of the chasm?  Hemingway did not find his ideal way across. He did not leave his life without significant insight to the challenge either.

“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places.”  Farewell to Arms

This is where hope lives.  It is the place where true healing and reconciliation may be found.  He offers to take on the hurt as a scientist might. Dissect it, understand it and study it faithfully.  To use it even, but not as a crutch.

This is where your strong voice exists.  Whether you write or speak or simply decide to face it head on, it is victory.

I know Hemingway is a questionable mentor in the effective management of hurt.  He shot himself in the head after a long battle with addiction, illnesses and “blackass” depression as he called it.  I‘m not sure if he gave up or gave in. I do suspect he gave a decent fight from his works I have read.

I will go even further  to offer a  quote by the controversial Nietzsche on the matter. I add a simple reminder that Nietzsche considered himself “spiritual” although not religious. His father was a Lutheran Pastor and he struggled with the idea of faith early on. He ultimately rejected faith absolutely yet he makes my point about hope.

“The most spiritual human beings, assuming they are the most courages, also by experience by far the most painful tragedies: but it is precisely for this reason that they honour life, because it brings against them its most formidable weapons”    Twilight of the Idols.

Hemingway’s no nonsense, practical slap of reality to pain spoke to me.  It is the scars from life’s most formidable weapons that inspire my drive to write. They also gift me a strong and seasoned voice. I am what I have overcome. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here at all.

Tags: Hemingway, Nietzsche

There is no easy way to say this..My looks are going down.  This weekend, I was involved in a face plant.  Yes, I will tell you about it.  No, I will not post pictures.  I am many many things and vain is one of them.  Let’s move on.

In order to fully understand the complexity, that is my fall, it’s necessary that one possess a basic sense of physics. I will try my best to dumb it down.  Actually, with my suspected head injury, won’t be so hard.

As we all know, Newton’s first law, applied to falling objects states, “Every object persists in its state of uniform motion in a straight line unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed on it.”

I was in a very nice state of uniform motion when my flip flop caught a crack in the sidewalk. I had my hands full as well as my 100 pound dog on a leash on one arm.  The stuck  flip flop problem led to a series of very unfortunate events.

I first made a distressed noise of some sort alarming Chewy.  He took off straight ahead and I held on to his leash. With my foot stuck, this caused my upper body to launch and go airborne. I’m  not sure how high my airspeed got, but I do know that I had enough hang time to consider just how serious the situation was while in midair.  My thought process was as follows.

Damn, this is gonna be bad.

I am definitely going to hit my face.

I remember a Bear Grylls episode, where he said to lift head back if you are ever falling forward.

Oww.   Bear was wrong

It is unclear why I did not use my arms to break the fall.  It is certain that my under- chin took the full force of the fall. I now look like Evander gave me a very effective uppercut and have a headache to prove it. Well, that and the greeting of “hello Rocky” at staff meeting this morning.

I self diagnosed a concussion, partly because I have somewhat sufficient medical training.  It also seems wasteful to spend hundreds of dollars on a cat scan, when your face hits  concrete at 23 miles per hour.

So bottom line:  When an object accelerates, airspeed increases.  When airspeed increases so does drag.. until your chin hits the pavement.  Object is then again at rest and very slow to get up.

It is also notable that I can take a pretty serious hit and still stay conscious.

Tags: faceplant, physics

Considering my sharp wit with numbers and my natural aptitude for all things mathy, I should have become a statistician.   But, as we know, not all dreams are realized.  So, I spend my time on www.googlefight.com to get my daily dose of statistical data collection and organizational presentation fun.

It’s easy really (said with British accent).  You enter two words/phrases,  hit the “make a fight” button and see which yields the highest results return.  Here are a few Google Fights of my own to get you started.  Enjoy ~

Unfortunate Results:

Mother Theresa 402,000

yo mama 2,460,000      (winner)

Charlie Sheen 186,000,000 (winner..obviously)

Beating out world hunger, global warming, Samali Pirates, world peace and Ghandi.

Surprising Results:

Felony 1,810,000

Fell on me 38,700,000 (winner)

Francowrites.com 262

Facebook.com 323,000,000  (winner)

Predictable Results:

Mankini 32,400

Manicotti 108,000  (winner)

Pavement 1,840,000

(*note, a marginal winner)

My Chin 1,710,000

please see this post if you don’t understand chin reference.  http://francowrites.com/?p=1115

The good news is the temporary biochemical changes in my neurons have  passed.  After last weeks fall, my chin is healed and my headache is gone.

The bad news is, I think my blog may be pointless.  I was shopping today, when I ran into a friend. She heard about my blog and asked what I write about.

I write about monkeys and aliens. I do write about science sometimes but Google does most of the heavy lifting.

I  have successful writer friends who author crime novels, neurology and psychology articles cooking blogs, parenting forums and home decorating columns.

I dedicated an entire post to a raccoon hidden in the storage compartment of a high school football team’s bus.

I did feel better briefly this week, when one of the NASA engineers I interviewed called me at home.  He had just read our interview.  I was prepared for follow up comments or new information about the space program.

No.

He heard a story that would be “perfect” for my blog about a cat who got his head stuck in a sink and all the antics it took to get him out.  Well…

You can read that story later this week.

The doctor did say symptoms of the concussion like altered thinking and poor judgment could linger for a few weeks.

That makes sense.  My blog is probably as brilliant as ever and I am just not thinking clearly.  I will give my neurons a little more time.

Success is a double edged sword.  Yes, I do enjoy the fame and fortune that comes from a blog with 57 followers.  But, I also find, I am disconnected from the average person these days.  I am so busy with stats to follow, interviews to secure and returning fan mail, I just can’t meet the demands made of me socially.

Kevin is one friend of mine that really gets this.  This is because he also has enjoyed much success along the way.  You see, Kevin and I went to high school together and we were both awarded the Senior Superlative “Most Witty”  or “Most likely to be witty” or “Biggest Smart Ass”.  I don’t remember, moving on.

We were awarded  bronze medals on purple ribbon.  I of course still find reasons to wear mine from time to time.  Here is glimpse of a conversation Kevin and I had recently.  Enjoy~

Nicole: Were you aware of your wittiness prior to receiving school wide recognition?

Kevin: I always felt I was “special” or so my mom told me.

Nicole: Do you find doors open in your professional career when you are wearing your medal?

Kevin: I use the medal as a “closer” when people are on the fence when buying a home. They find it irresistible, especially when I tell them I’m Mark Spitz and it’s a Gold from the ’72 Olympics.

Nicole: Have you found a successful yet subtle way to let it slip in social settings you were awarded wittiest in high school? I have not.

Kevin: I find wearing it to parties, work functions, golfing, to the beach, to my sons karate class, to my daughters ballet class, to the gym and just in general prevents me from having to be subtle. When I wear a super low cut shirt, it does the talking for me.

Nicole: When you have a disagreement with your wife, do you run put on your medal and say “I’m the wittiest.. This conversation is over” ?

Kevin: She knows better than to challenge me because she see’s the medal spinning from our fan and that pretty much prevents any disagreement.

*It  is notable that Kevin’s publicity department has just released the following announcement.

“Kevin has just been notified that he is through to round two of interviews to be Charlie Sheen’s social media guy!  Watch out world, here we come!!!”

Clearly Kevin is a guy that is #winning!

I am taking a break from the media machine for a while.  I don’t know which is more disturbing, Charlie Sheen selling out Radio City Hall or Japan’s nuclear disasters.

Either way, they are both very public meltdowns.  I am not sure I want to see the news of the apocalypse delivered via twitter.

I am going to go outside and enjoy the fresh air at least until the radiation rolls in.

Prayers for  Japan and all who are on the ground and in the air to make it better. As for Charlie Sheen, harness some of that enthusiasm and intensity into an energy drink and I am in.

It’s always a happy surprise to encounter a reader in the wild.  That’ s just what happened this weekend, while at a birthday party.

About 5 minutes into the conversation with my faithful reader Jason, I knew I had a blog entry.

We were sharing head trauma stories, scars and cocktails.  I did obtain verbal consent to publish his story.  I doubt, considering his condition, it would hold up in court.  But, I have never been one to shy away from pending litigation.

This isn’t so much an interview as a reconstruction of events told by a person with a concussion who was drinking, to a person with a concussion, who has just taken Tylenol pm.  Don’t expect too much.

Jason is well known to me as a great husband and dad.  He is also a big Magic fan. In order to avoid parking hassles and .. let’s just say to avoid parking hassles, he rides his bicycle to many of the home games.

On a recent jaunt home, he hit a serious roadblock.  Actually, his head hit concrete block..  Here is his story.

“I was cruising along home at about 9 miles an hour.  I know that’s how fast I was going because I passed by that ‘check your speed’ sign you know? I was completely sober and was just reaching down for my water bottle when it happened.”

“I hit the curb with my front tire and went down hard.  It happened so fast.  I mean it wasn’t like that time downtown when I fell.  That was a jolly ‘oh look I fell down ha ha- let me get up’. This was brutal.  My head hit the curb so hard and the entire right side of my body had road rash.”

“I was really booking it because a car was coming and I was trying to cross before it came.  Ohh it was bad.  I was just hoping no one saw me. The pedal locked and just jammed into my leg.”

“This was like an old school bike wreck.  There is no way to recover from that kind of fall and look cool.  I was just worried about any witnesses.  I popped up really fast but was hurtin’ bad.”

“Have you had a raspberry on your knee lately?  As an adult?”

“It really hurts. I feel bad, I have been telling my kids to shake it off all this time.  I had fire leg!”

“I got up quick and stood at the corner all hunched over and groaning.  I waited for 2 entire traffic light cycles before I could get back on my bike and ride the 1/4 mile home.”

After a week, the headache and limping  have subsided.  Jason has yet to get back in the saddle. After a brief discussion about helmets, physics and pain meds, we said out good byes.

I have no doubt Jason will make a comeback.  He is a ‘can do’ kind of guy.  And I would bet my paycheck that his deep rooted perseverance and $20 event parking will get him back on his bike soon enough.

Good Evening.

Welcome to Snake Disaster Planning Drills and Readiness Assessment . This lecture is designed for State and local health policymakers and average citizens who may find themselves in a snake situation. My name is Nicole and I will be your moderator for today’s session.

The context for these drills are clear and compelling. Snakes represents a significant public health threat to the United States. Addressing this threat requires the rapid development of Federal, State and local capacity to respond to potential snake events. This means improving the abilities of both our public health and health care delivery systems to detect and respond to such threats.

The Drill Scenario:

You are returning home from picking children up from school and see a large, beast like black racer in your driveway.

Drill step by step:

First identify the threat.  Is it a worm, hose, snake or belt? Do not attempt to see if it is poisonous or not.  All snakes are scary therefore all are dangerous.

Assign a person in charge of the scene.  The chain of command should be family dog, man of the house, male neighbor, 911, oldest child and then mom.

Form a closed perimeter around the threat. No one in or out.  Well, snake can go out, then the disaster is resolved.

Assess the situation. Communication is critical. Screaming and yelling are effective ways to make sure everyone in the red zone hears you.  Analyze if anyone is in potentially dangerous proximity of snake.  If so, communicate by screaming.

Develop an action plan and execute said plan.  Some examples of efficient plans may be:

Scream and run

Throw something you find on the ground toward snake and run

Wave a stick about 100 feet from snake and scream

Run to a neighbors house for help and return to snake gone

Beep car horn repeatedly using Morse Code for help

Take a picture of snake with cell phone, then scream and run

Sell your house

Review outcome and identify areas of improvement

If snake crawled back into bushes peacefully, then favorable outcome achieved.  If several family members bitten, you may want to widen your perimeter.

The four year old hides my things. She forgets where she puts them and then helps me look.  It’s a problem.  I spent the majority of Monday asking Sprint Mobile Services for the impossible.  I want a new cell phone with my same number. The four year old lost my phone.

Actually, buying a new cell phone is relatively simple. It’s activating it, that will throw you into a bottomless abyss.  I let you judge for yourself.

This weekend, I enjoyed a fabulous time with friends by the shore.  It was very ‘Great Gatsby.’

A large tent  was set up with lounge chairs. Endless cocktails flowed by the pitcher as beautiful women in bikinis chatted, watching perfect little children play at the shore line.

Friends from our town would pass by for a visit.

We Fitzgeralded our way through the afternoon and decided to continue the soiree with a pool side dinner. With 4 simple words, the illusion was lost.

“Who’s bag is this?!”

You see, in order to move the amount of chairs, tent, coolers toys, snacks, towels and so on to accommodate such a gathering, certain logistics are in place. It’s a cart.

Not just any cart.  A utilitarian,  lawn maintenance cart that has been customized to carry exactly 367 pounds of family beach necessities.

The cart makes a twice daily run and there are systems in place to ensure its efficiency. The boardwalk measures exactly 3 inches wider than the cart. The cart has to be loaded in specific order, there is little room for error.  The cart must travel 100 feet being pushed and pulled simultaneously to exact precision.

I just hung my beach bag off the side of the cart on one of the pvc pipes, once I heard the party was headed to the pool.  I don’t have time to measure boardwalk width and I certainly wasn’t up for carrying my bag myself.

The bag threw off the entire process and things were dropping off the cart the entire way to the pool. No one seemed all that worried.

I was mostly focused on getting myself to the pool in a timely fashion and not spilling my cocktail.

No matter what! (said with British accent like that Orbitz gum commercial lady)

An editorial note: A follow up interview was conducted with Jason (Magic Game bike crash victim) beach side.  Unfortunately I have no recollection of it old sport.

See original Interview here. http://francowrites.com/?p=1209 I do think I remember him saying he has indeed gotten back on his bike.  I will check on that.

In the spirit of full disclosure, the cart picture was not taken this weekend. Also, I do not have expressed permission from the shirtless man, so any complaints should be forwarded to my spam box immediately,

I lost another cell phone. My new one is ‘refurbished.’  It’s green.  The kids have nicknamed it “The Green Goblin.”  I really don’t want to talk about it.

Today I heard  tweeting sounds from my bag and found my phone had an incoming text.  After a series of frustrating and fruitless live chats with Sprint Customer Service about why my new phone is green; I was told it’s the “Eco Model.”  The ring tones are nature noises like frogs and birds.  Awesome.

The text was from my neighbor and simply said “Sweet.” Hmm.  This is highly unusual. It’s my NASA engineer neighbor. I check my text history and he indeed was responding to one sent from the Goblin earlier in the day.

It was sent by my 4 year old, who I had handed the phone to in the grocery store to keep from opening a second box of Teddy Grahams.

My text was:  bpm=yertnmty,mdsnmfbsxchjkmDzzmmzxdcnmgxcg.??.Fcmnvcmnxzx…

Clearly the engineer recognized it for what it was.  A sophisticated equation that once entered into the NASA database, solved years worth of research questions regarding how to best view the Perseus Galaxy Cluster.

“Understanding the content of normal matter in galaxy clusters is a key element for using these objects to study the evolution of the universe,” said another employee off the record.

“I wasn’t sure who the text was from at first.  I thought it was some type of code” said the neighbor today in the driveway. We were chatting while my older girls played basketball and the budding 4 year old scientist colored her hands and pajamas with chalk because “I want to be blue.”

I’m not all that surprised to find a beautiful mind among my offspring.  I was exceptional at 5th grade Earth Science and my four year old has been able to work the television remote for 2 years now.

It started with my neighbor’s request for two ripe bananas.  I didn’t have them but I did have questions. Why would Morris need bananas?  What was he up to?  It was the day before Easter and our street would never be the same.

Two words.  Hummingbird Cake.

The four year old walked in the door with the best tasting cake the earth has ever known. Move over people, there is a new cake boss in town.  Here are the facts, the best I can reconstruct them.

This was the first time Morris has attempted this cake.  He began baking it at about 9 pm and finished up around 1 am.  The origin of the name Hummingbird is a mystery but the recipe came from Dave Ramsey’s website.

There are rumors the cake is exceptionally heavy, weighing at least 10 pounds (I just inserted a random number here).  With 3 cups of flour, 2 cups of sugar and a ton of pineapple – no wonder.

As I write this, texts are coming in from neighbors, reporting from Morris’ kitchen, looking for left overs. Morris reports his son in law has shown up 3 nights in a row now.

I have tasted the cake first hand, and I will tell you the cream cheese icing is like the stars aligned perfectly and the universe revealed a once in a lifetime confection.

Morris has no interest in selling his cake for profits or entering it into any competitions.  ”I just made it for friends and family.”

I look at Morris in a new light now.  He is a baking savant.  He has stumbled upon a gift of baking that knows no bounds.

It was a brief but brilliant happening, as I have been informed  he won’t be making this cake again anytime soon.  ”It was a lot of work” he explains.

Our neighbor across the street summed it up perfectly.

“It was a delicious cake.  The pineapple and banana combined well to cover most of the hummingbird flavor, which I really don’t care for.”

Tags: Hummingbird cake

I am not neglecting my dear readers.  Well, I sort of am, but with good reason.  I have had to take some time away from this blog to work on some final edits of my novel in progress.  I have an agent agreeing to read the first 50 pages of said novel.

I will hit send soon and be back to covering breaking monkey news and alien encounters soon enough.  For those who care, I am updating more frequently on Twitter these days as 20 something characters seem less daunting than the brilliant, witty blog posts that we are all accustomed to.

Thanks for the support and the constant emails and comments. Except the ones that slip through about Viagra and other drugs available cheaper in Canada.  Damn spam.  Or is that Canadude…

It was just a matter of time really.  I am now officially famous.

I received a call from my bubby tonight.  Also, known as my brother Terry.  He told me that he had a business meeting today.  After the meeting, a program director from another department came up to him and said that he had recently met one of his “relatives.”  Terry had never talked to this particular colleague before, so was surprised at the interaction.

Turns out he was introduced to a girl with the last name “Franco” who was a writer, by his brother at a party. The conversation between my brother and I had me in tears from laughter.

My first reaction was to celebrate the fact that I have gained some name recognition.  This happiness was short lived as I began to realize there were a few problems with this story.

1.  I don’t recall speaking to a friend who introduced me to a brother who works for the same company as my brother.

2.  I don’t recall being at a party recently.

3.  I have never heard of the guy and am pretty sure I don’t know his brother.

4. I have never introduced myself in any setting, social or otherwise as a writer.

So, there are 3 conclusions;

1.  I am being punked by a male sibling.

2. I had too many cocktails at a recent party that I don’t remember attending (hmmm).

3. The guy I talked to about Beck for 20 minutes at a kid’s birthday party last Saturday has a brother (?).

I have watched the political banter continue long enough.  I grow tired of those who complain and offer no real solution.  The time has come when voting is no longer enough and for me to keep quiet would be a direct violation of my civic duty.

The answer to all that troubles America is Donald Trump. Well, his hair actually.  And I have the science to back it up.

It would behoove you to listen. I am smarter than I look and a great deal of research took place (on the couch while watching Chelsea Lately).

Here goes.  Please keep up.

My boss often tells me, “Perception is reality” when I am frustrated with others.  America is in trouble, we can all agree.  I don’t think any candidate on the radar can solve our problems quickly, but there is a man who knows how to make things look better in the short term.

Enter Exhibit A (AKA Donald Trump’s hair.)

This man has taken the challenge of male pattern baldness to a whole new level.  He could have had a custom made, natural virgin hair, male wig made and be done with it. He clearly has the resources, but short cuts he will not take.

No.  The Donald has created an intricate comb over that defies reason, physics, good taste and 3 state laws (just added that).  A lot of brain power has been resourced for this and honestly, I respect the effort.

I have studied pictures of  The Donald’s hair over the years and it appears that he has grown the back portion of his hair quite long.  He then combs it up and over, not once but twice. TWICE people!  Can you imagine the amount of foresight it must have taken for him to grow hair that long?  He has been working on this for years.  One could argue, it is not aesthetically pleasing but the dude is crafty.

This is just the man we need for the job.  America needs a “financial comb over.”  We may not can fix our problems, but we can make it all look better.

He shows courage by just walking around. I heard a comedian say “It’s like his forehead is angry at his hair.”  It’s more than that I think.  Donald is the epitome of ‘keeping it real.’  He could win any debate by stating “Look at my hair.”

If anyone can convince the world, the US will be fine it is he.  Banks will be lending, tourism will flourish, jobs will be created and foreign affairs will fall into place.  What country would want to engage in diplomatic talks that could end with “You’re Fired”   ???        Anyone?

To Summarize;

His hair is real.  It blows in the wind.  It could be used as a strategic political tool.

Obama either needs better hair or to demand a birth certificate for Donald’s.

I had the privilege of visiting Patrick Air Force Base today.  I brought along my family and we were shown hospitality and graciousness by all the military personnel we encountered.

We also almost got arrested.  The military police are so… serious.  Polite but very serious.  I will start from the beginning.

I was to meet my arranged escort at promptly 12:00 pm outside the base to obtain security clearance.  I truly felt sorry for the guy when I said “Oh.. well, I don’t actually have my driver’s license.”  My license has been lost for a while.  I need to look into that.

We laid out the contents of my wallet like a puzzle trying to piece together some way I could still enter the base and meet my speaking obligation.  We had my debit card, library card, a Costco card, Marriott Rewards card (no photo) and so on.  Turns out the expired passport with my maiden name was just the trick.  These people are clever and their computers must be way better than normal computers. They verified my identity and handed me my pass along with the strong suggestion that I don’t drive on base.

They asked if I had any sophisticated electronics on my person. I said no and told them the riveting story of how I once tried to plug my wireless mouse adapter into my cell phone by mistake.  We all laughed.   (They laughed inside)

And so the front gates opened for me, my family and our 100 pound dog.  Yes, I took my dog.

The rest of the day went smoothly and was fun.  We toured the facility, met some really nice people and had lunch.  We watched planes come and go on the landing strips and the kids cheered watching some pretty admirable training maneuvers.  And then I thought, I should take some pictures of this.

2 minutes after being out of the car

MP “Hello there..”

me “Hiiii!  We are visiting.  The kids love the planes!”

MP “Hi.  If you have taken any photos, I will delete them and confiscate your camera.”

me “Ohhhh. OK.”      (As I hold a large camera with zoom lens)

After a serious and quite informative discussion of what “Restricted Areas” and “No Civilian Zones”  mean, I was off once again to enjoy the rest of my day.

I did manage to take a few quick shots.

This is me in the cockpit of the the F-22 Raptor fighter jet.

Oh.  And this one of me and my new military police friends hanging out at the Base Burger King for milkshakes.

Good news is that I have gained some new readers. (My blog is now being “monitored”)

I am very fortunate to have readers but things can take a bad turn fast.  I received a demanding text a few days ago from one of my faithful readers.

Reader:    ”I need new reading material.”

Me:    ”ok. New feature, reader picks topic.  You’re first.”

Reader:  ”Way to turn the tables on me.”

So the reader chose the “fat tax” issue.  hmmm.

At first, I thought this was a food consumption tax.  The more you eat, the more you pay.  Like a gas tax, bigger SUV would pay more than an efficient Honda hybrid.

No.

It’s a $50 surcharge for being overweight.  Lame.

Arizona is proposing a “fat fee” of $50 for Medicaid patients who don’t follow a slim down program.

“Officials say, the fee would give people a reason to get healthy, and that it’s a crucial part of a plan to save $500 million a year in Medicaid spending.”

Really?  For $50 a year someone would change their entire lifestyle, overcome bad genetics and stop ‘being fat?’

I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but get real Arizona.  $50 is the cost of a decent steak dinner with sides and a salad.  Do you not have a Sizzler, Golden Corral or Ponderosa like buffet in your state?  How about we tax Burger King and McDonald’s for selling 2000 calories on a bun?

Fiscally speaking, it would be cheaper for a person to pay the tax than join a gym. And what would constitute being fat?  Would we all be weighed and the little body pincher thing applied?  Could you be charged for just looking fat?  Imagine, wearing the wrong shorts could cost you a $50 citation.  Who will enforce these taxes?  Muffin Top Cops?  These are real questions people.

It has been criticized as a cruel and regressive tax.  Where do we draw the line?  Will we have an ‘unattractive tax” and a “failure to contribute to society in a substantive manner tax?”

I don’t know the answer.  Or even the question.  I do know that to stay thin in America is not easy.  It takes a lot of will power, early morning work outs and the constant fear that I may have to pay $50 a year.  Whatever…

It has been a roller coaster few weeks for me.  I have had to make some hard decisions about what path I want to follow with regards to my novel in progress.  I am fortunate to have a great council of friends, writer friends and creative, sort of ‘out there’ friends who have shouldered much of the ups and downs.

So, for those who care; My novel is called The Gift of Crazy. It will be available in about 3 weeks, beginning on Amazon Kindle, then Barnes and Noble Nook and Apple iBooks as well as smashwords.  I am nervous and happy and most of all grateful.

The people who know me will love the book I think. The people who know me, may also recognize a character that resembles them…Legal Dept. is on stand by.  Much love and thanks for all those who believe in me, even when I doubt myself.    xoxoxoxo

Read this one quick, because once my mother sees it, I will be forced to take it down.  Not too long ago, I received a phone call from my mother.

“Nicole!  My backyard is on fire!  The deck is burnt up and there is a pile of ashes where the patio chair used to be.”

“Call the Fire Department mom!”

“A neighbor already did.  They put the fire out and are waiting to see if there are any hot spots.  They had to cut up my deck with axes!”

I have received many “Emergency” phone calls from my mother.  Some have been more serious than others.  There has been the “It sounds like there is someone on my roof” call.  Turns out that was a large raccoon in the attic.

Then there was the “an opossum is stuck in my chiminea and I can see his little face” call.  That one is an entirely separate blog entry. A neighbor came over and flushed him out using the water hose.  Moving on…

There has even been a “My car just caught on fire and the bomb squad is here” call from the shopping center’s parking lot.

But this latest call was the hardest to piece together.  Some information surrounding the event is still murky.  What we do know is that my mom and her sister were sitting outside the night before on the deck “burning some old documents” in the chiminea.

There is this new invention called a shredder.  They have it at Office Depot, you may want to look into it.

Overnight, the chiminea must have tipped over and started a fire while she was at work the next day.  The whole scenario seemed sketchy to me but the good news is that there was no major damage to the house. The fireman used their axes to cut up the deck and put out the fire underneath.  My mother said she was cheering them on…

On a follow up call my mother informed:

“The firemen were so nice!  I was so thankful to them that I hugged the hatchet man. I didn’t hug the information taker, but he was nice too. They left so fast one of them forgot his hat and I had to drive up to the fire station to return it.”

So as a tribute to Memorial Day, we salute all of those who serve America in the military, and by extension those in law enforcement and fire and rescue.  You all are heroes and answer the daily calls of duty.  My mother and I thank you.

Editor’s Note: I am not implying anything, however I happened to go with my mother and her sister to Costco the day of the deck fire and my uncle purchased the largest bottle of wine I have ever seen.  Just putting that out there.

Some days are better than others.  Today wasn’t one of those days.

I spent the night on the bathroom floor with a 6 year old croup victim.  With the shower and dehumidifier running full speed, we adverted the ER by sleeping on a sleeping bag in 30 minute intervals. It sounded like a new born seal was beached in my bathroom.  Fun times.

Breakfast was uneventful, however the lunch time baked beans can cut my finger.  It was not a paper cut. Either bad manners or sleep deprivation led me to use a string of “sentence enhancers” which I would now have to apologize to my children for. There was no excuse.  I have a friend who speaks French and even he would be offended.

I was out of band aids, so took bleeding finger and crouping whooping 6 year old to Publix, where I left my debit card at the cash register.  A phone message was waiting for me when we got home and back to Publix we go.  I am waiting in line at the customer service desk (behind 35 people renting carpet cleaning machines) to retrieve my lost card, when the 6 year old coughs “Your shirt is inside out.”

She was right.

I recently dropped off some prescriptions to be filled (for adult chicken pox and that’s all I am going to say about that.)  I decided to wait for them and walked over to a nearby store to kill time. It was a wig store.  I have never been in a wig store.

I quickly said “I’m just looking!” to the clerk and made my way to the back of the store, where I could discreetly try on and model as many wigs as possible  in 5 minutes.  The first was a very short, unattractive wig which actually turned out to be a toupee.  Next.

I then found the “medical wig” section. These looked like my own hair first thing in the morning.  Not looking to pay $189 for a bad hair day. Next.

Ohhh.  The fashion wigs and weave section.  Now we’re talking…

I went from platinum blonde bombshell, a bright pink bob to an Asian “fantasy” wig.  What fun.  I am enjoying every moment making faces in the mirror when I realize the clerk is standing close. She is staring from me to a sign that says “Please ask for assistance when trying on wigs.”

For the record, I make a very good blonde.

I dislike buffets.  A lot.  I unfortunately found myself at one today for lunch and it only confirmed that I dislike buffets.  A lot.  All you can eat at a set price seems to bring out the worst in people.  Today I noticed a series of disturbing signs that prove to me my biases are well founded.

Sign 1 :  ”Please do not eat while at the buffet.”  Really?

Sign 2:  ”Pace Yourself”   sigh…

Sign 3:  ”Please use a clean plate for EVERY trip to the buffet”  They had to capitalize “every”…

The very fact that these signs are necessary makes me sad.  The fact that the cheese focaccia was depleted by the man in front of me made me even more sad.  ”Dude..read the sign”  I mumbled under my breath.

My laptop and I have a love hate relationship.  I love it, it hates me. I concede my computing skills are less than optimal, but I think the laptop could try harder.

I receive snide fatal error messages on a daily basis from said laptop.  Last night, I was fed up.  ”Go ahead and self destruct…I call your bluff.”

The screen went to that scary dark blue place with lots of intimidating code.  But, after a few quick and skillful key strokes on my part (I turned the power on and off), laptop was back to windows.  ”I own you” was my confident reply.

Yes, sometimes I hit the wrong buttons. I download a lot of sketchy things. I do indeed just start clicking and hope for the best sometimes.  A friend recommended I clean the computer and start again with manufacturer settings.

He might as well said,  ’Disassemble  your dual-core CPU with lots of RAM and a terabyte of disk space and clean all the connectors on the motherboard. Don’t forget to maintenance your SATA hard drives while you have it apart.”  Not sure if that makes sense, but that’s kind of the point.

I did try to clean my files and reset but my laptop wasn’t cooperating.  Our exchange was:

Laptop:  ”This file contains essential data for your system operation.  Are you sure you want to delete?”  (Said sarcastically)

Me:  ”Noooo, I’m really not.”

So for now, I will patiently wait for my laptop to die.  I will continue to do things to hurry this process along.  When looking for my next machine, I will try for a longer battery life, bigger screen and less attitude.

People, brace yourself.  This post serves many purposes and even includes a closely guarded recipe.  You’re welcome.

Today marked the historical final launch of the Space Shuttle program.  It was beautiful and for me sentimental.  I am hopeful that with time, my children will again cheer on manned space crafts with an American flag on the side.

Kennedy Space Center has become an icon for Florida.  A source of accomplishment, jobs but most importantly pride and identity.  Many Floridian families have memories and traditions that stem from watching launches.  But it is the little known KSC tradition of serving Baked beans and cornbread on launch day that intrigues me.

In 1981, preparations were being made for the first shuttle launch. It made sense that people would bring in food to feed the staff who worked around the clock.  A test director named Norm Carlson brought in a crock pot of beans and some cornbread. After the successful launch, the people ate the beans all gone (over simplified but seriously, they loved them.)

It then became a tradition that Norm would bring the beans and after the launch, “We are go for beans” would be announced.  After having to add more and more crock pots of beans each launch, Norm handed over the task to NASA.  NASA grew to serve 60 gallons of beans and you can see today’s picture from the break room courtesy of our NASA contributor Wayne.

Here is Norm’s recipe which I fully intend to try.  Thanks to all those who built and furthered the NASA Space Program.  God bless America and God bless baked beans.

Norm Carlson’s Space Beans Recipe

6 pounds Great Northern dried beans
10 pounds ham cut into cubes, plus ham bones
3 pounds chopped onions
2 stalks celery
1/2 shaker lemon pepper
1 teaspoon Liquid Smoke

Cover with water in an 18-quart electric cooker and cook 8-12 hours.

Tags: NASA

One thing I love about writing is when people tell me funny stories then add, “You should put this on your blog!”  Many times they are right. Sometimes they are dead wrong like  ”That time I had such trouble giving my cat a pill and ended up in the Centra Care..”

Yesterday, a reader told me a story about a coworker with a new Vespa.  He proudly rides it to work each day and parks it in the front parking space.  Notably, the man is “approaching 300 pounds fast” and when he is on the vehicle, you can’t really see the vehicle. So some fellow co-workers made and attached a “wide load” sign to the back of the Vespa and everyone had a good laugh.  I don’t know if the Vespa guy laughed.

I also frequently have readers tell me stories about other people they think should be published.  ”John won’t care. I’m not even sure he has internet.”  They are usually funny but a hefty civil lawsuit waiting to happen as well.  When I run these by my legal department, I usually hear, “You will need a signed waiver and I don’t think they even have a waiver for that type of thing.”

“One time we were all by the pool having drinks and (name protected) had a few too many. So, we put him in a lawn chair and placed him in the corner of the elevator at our hotel.  We pushed all 18 floor buttons and just got out.”

“We just found out that a man has been living in my mother in law’s backyard shed. She had to go to court to evict him because it seems he has been there for almost 2 years.  She doesn’t really go out back often.”

“My friend Sean has had the same pair of shorts since high school that he wears every Friday.  So they are like 20 years old. Wait, his grandfather got them from the thrift store.  That means they were not new when he got them.  So they are even older.  Have you ever seen tie dye shorts?”

And the list goes on. The good news is that people read my posts. I hear new ideas and always have a good laugh.  The bad news is there is a fine line between free speech and slander.

I recently posted on Facebook that I was wearing camouflage at work. Which I was.  I then ran into a friend of mine who happens to be an active Marine.  I gave my usual friendly hello and heard “You’re not fit for camouflage!”     It just goes down from there…

Me:  ”Why not?  I’m tough.”

Marine:  ”You’re not tough.”

Me:  ”No, I really am.”

Marine:  ”You’re not tough”

Me:  ”Fine. Let me show you.”

Marine:  ”Fine. Hit the deck!”

Me: “What?”

Marine:  ”GIVE ME TWENTY PRIVATE!”

Me:  ”20 what? Why are you yelling?”

Marine:  ”YOU ARE A WEAK AND SPINELESS CREATURE.  YOU CANNOT EVEN OPEN A PICKLE JAR WITHOUT HELP! YOU MAKE SPONGE BOB LOOK LIKE HERCULES!”

Me: “A push up? Is that what you want? Jeez this is hard with your foot pressing on my back.”

Marine: “ARE YOU CRYING? WHAT DO YOU WANT A SMOOTHIE?!  THIS ISN’T STEIN MART!  YOU’RE IN MY WORLD NOW!  DON”T LOOK ME IN THE EYE.”

Me:  ”Good Lord! I am indeed not tough.”

Marine helping me up,  ”You’re not tough. Now I want a smoothie.”

Today, my mind is a bit disjointed.  So, makes perfect sense (to me and it’s my blog) that this post should follow that format.  Let’s see how it goes shall we?

Event 1:

Sunday, I am crazily pushing a cart around Target in search of uniforms for kids (they are sold out.)  I run into a friend who is very fashion forward (do people really use that term outside of Cosmo mag?)  She tells me “check out Walmart.”  She owns her own cute, little boutique ( yes, it’s Rosie) so I think, ‘if Walmart is good enough for her, it’s good enough for me.’  I shake it over to Walmart today. And yes, I shake it.

Event 2

Because I’m insane, I take 3 kids and a 100 pound dog to Walmart to buy school uniforms. They of course are sold out as well because the universe hates me.  But does that stop me from taking a few laps around? No.

Shoe Dept: 4 year old wants 2 pairs of red sequin dress shoes.  9 year old wants brown pumps from the ladies dept (I don’t know) and the 6 year old wants Dora ballet slippers that are 3 sizes too small but “feel great!”  Mommy wants a sedative.  We manage to take every shoe off the rack and they are piled around my children, who sit on the aisle floor.  I am looking at flip flops.

House Wares Dept: I need a new shower curtain but refuse to pay $19.99 because I’m at Walmart.  We leave, then come back 15 minutes later and get one because I need a new shower curtain.

Grocery Dept: Operation Ethnic Foods Aisle.  I need rice and beans… Don’t need to state the obvious (insert your own Spanish joke here.)  The Goya section at the Walmart on 436 is like a Gorilla warfare zone.  That’s all I am going to say about that.

Check Out: Kids want gum from the nasty machine.  I dig for change because I’m dazed and confused at this point.  While I’m distracted, 100 pound dog is eating a dropped ice cream cone off the floor while people behind us snicker.  He then throws it up and I snicker.

I hear my sweet grandfather’s voice from the other side, “Find your happy place.”

We make it to the car (after a spanking incident in the parking lot) and I feel the journey is complete.  I met every challenge with mediocrity and a bad attitude.  The 4 year old’s stomach hurts because she “might have eaten some ice cream like Chewy.”

I saved a ton of money, as I purchased about 42 pairs of shoes, shower curtain that I hate and rice and beans for $142.  I didn’t get the uniforms.

This story is as reliable as the 2 am trip to Denny’s for Moon over My Hammy.  It always shows up after a night of drinks and people like it.  Not sure it will translate well to a blog entry but let’s give it a try.

In high school, I had a job at the Orlando Visitor’s Information Center.  I was supposed to give valuable tourist information.  I really let the younger set know where the good clubs were and which ones would accept questionable ID’s.  And to those tourists, the information was indeed valuable.

It was not unheard of for me and fellow co-workers to go the extra professional mile and offer to meet the nice (read attractive) foreigners downtown for a tour of the best Orlando had to offer in the evening.  And thus the stage is set for the story called “Dude. Where’s my car?”

We met some very nice (read attractive) vaguely foreign boys.  No one was sure of their nationality but we just assigned them as Germans early on for the sake of reference.  They spoke little English but agreed to meet us for an evening out.

At some point in the late evening, the Germans wanted to leave and were asking for a ride back to the hotel as well.  They had come in a cab.  I was not ready to go yet and this is where things took a bad turn. I gave my car keys to the boys and arranged to have a friend drop me off at home.  They would take my car and we would meet up in the morning. 

It was ‘in the morning’ that I realized #1 I don’t know who  or where these guys are and #2 they don’t speak English.  I had a pager # in my purse for one of them and gave it a shot.  Amazingly, they promptly returned the page as follows:

Me: Hi! So glad you called back!  I need my car for work today.

German: Da! We have car.  Going Disney! Byeeeeeee

3 Days Later (To their credit they always called back)

Me: I reallly need my car.  I’m running out of excuses for my parents.

German: JAJA!  Toyota good car! Tampa for Busch Gardens!  Funnnn!

This went on for a week.  Co-workers were driving me back and forth to work.  I was walking to school and my parents thought I was parking next door at my neighbors.  Since I was unaware of what applicable federal laws were in place for a hybrid Grand Theft Auto/Car Jacking on an International level and since I was 17, I did nothing.  Co-workers would whisper “Have you heard from the Germans today?” 

We would page them from work and they would always cheerfully call back.  We had a co-worker taking high school German try to communicate.  After a few moments on the phone, he handed it back and said “I don’t know what language that is but it’s not German.”   Sigh…

And then I get a call that the Germans were leaving Orlando and wanted me to please drop them off at the airport (in my car).  When I got the car back, it was in perfect shape except that the entire interior was covered in bread.  Slices of white sandwich bread were everywhere.  My friend lost count at about 4 loafs.  When we asked the Germans, they simply answered:

Da! Love the bread!

Editor’s note:  Although we have no proof, after years to reflect, my coworkers and I believe they were speaking Dutch and may have found the Merita bread outlet (butter crust) that caused a frenzy in the car  This is pure speculation at best.

In literature, a howling storm may symbolize inner conflict or suggest transition in one’s perpetual pursuit of growth and personal evolution.  In this post, not so much.  A storm is a storm.   Hurricane Irene.  A storm the size of Texas, that skirts about 200 miles along the Florida coast.

In recent memory, Hurricane Charley (a category 3) peeled my roof off like a sardine lid and left my home and all of its contents in ruins.  So with this storm, I will be prepared.  Kinda.

Our local meteorologist, Tom Terry (whom I consider a personal friend, though we have never actually met) told me at 5:00 pm that the storm will not hit us directly.  He also said, that the path could change, so we must all be prepared.  I promptly went out to purchase red wine (doesn’t need to be refrigerated).  He suggests that the average citizen needs about  an 8 hour notice to prepare for a direct hurricane hit.  I need about 15 minutes (to get drunk).

Yes, I have hurricane anxiety and yes being impaired may not prove helpful in a survival scenario.  But I am realistic.  Without power (air conditioning), my motivation to survive is seriously diminished.   So, I am as prepared as I am going to be and wish my best to all those in her path.

On second thought, maybe the storm does represent some internal conflict.  Hmmm.

Somewhere, Bear Grylls is weeping..

They say when you know..you know.  Well, my laptop has been in critical condition for some time now.  The charger is wrapped in black electrical tape in places (we used to have a bunny that chewed things..he escaped.  Kids were crushed. God bless Sniffy) and I had to reboot every 7 minutes.  The final straw came when I attempted to research new laptops on my old laptop and the pages would freeze.  System would crash.  Pages would freeze.  Repeat..Repeat..Repeat.

When I wrote down my list of “needs for new laptop” they included;  to turn on, to stay on, to work from home, to play online poker. 

So off I go to buy a new laptop. With very limited knowledge and my paper in hand, I encounter the computer associate who lost the cosmic lottery and was assigned to help me with this task.  Here are the highlights…Enjoy ~

After 10 minutes of him explaining the laptops he says “I am going to let you look around.  Let me know if you have any questions.”

Me:     ”I have a question right now.”  “Does this one come in any different colors?”

Man in red shirt:   “No.”    long pause

Me:  “I guess it doesn’t really matter the color.”

Man in red shirt:  “No. It really doesn’t.”   long pause

Me:   “Yeah..”   “Does it come in blue?”

Man in red shirt   “No.”

I hear the 4 year old scamper from room to room happily chatting.  She runs past me and I ask what she’s up to.  ”Oh, just getting my barbies to play in the swimming pool.”

Wait..What pool?

Oh, just the pool that used to be my living room, family room, computer room and laundry room.

Here is the story of the flood told from my mind in slow motion.

( Because my mind works in slow motion during emergencies.)

I’m not sure, but I think this is how Armageddon is going down.

I hear water running…  Why am I standing in 6 inches of water?

Oh nooooo.  Oh no.  Towel!  I need more towels.  Towels aren’t going to help.

Wait..I think we have a wet vac.  Is it safe to plug something in while standing in a swimming pool?  Maybe I should call 911?  This seems like a bona fide emergency.  What’s that number I hear on TV where they can fix it like it never even happened?   Oh  #$%%#.  This is all me…

My wood floors..  Whatever.  I’m just going to plug this in and hope for the best.  Is this the wet vac?

The washer is effectively pumping gillagallons (that is a little known metric unit which means a lot) of water all over my house and for a good two minutes, I stand and stare.  I run in circles for a moment and try to remember any pertinent knowledge or skills I might have to effectively cope. Turns out I have none.

I throw every towel, washcloth, paper towel (not advised) and blanket I own on the floor.  I then turn off every knob I see in the laundry room and hit the breaker box with wet hands while standing in water (looking back, common sense should have kicked in, but yay!  I’m still alive.)

Insert me sporadically yelling to the 4 year old, the dog, and the cat to “GET BACK” like a crazy person, as I was never really sure electrocution was off the table.

Insert the 4 year old standing on the computer desk, sporadically screaming “Save the rug!  Save the baby doll!  Save my dinosaur!  You’re using my blanket!”

In the end, the flood has receded.  No one was injured and property damage is minimal.  The washer is still full of water and clothes, but I’m not going back in there.

On a side note, they really should tell people that wet vacs need to be emptied periodically.

That would have been helpful.

Well.  I usually offer some introduction to my topic. There’s not a whole lot I can do to prepare you for this one.  Enjoy….

I was walking in the parking lot to work when approached by a disheveled man. I assumed him to be homeless but boy was I off.  Goes to show, you can’t judge a book by its  umm… long, unkempt hair, baggy, brown clothes and lack of overall hygiene.

He starts the conversation by telling my I’m very beautiful and should consider modeling.  I laugh a little and size him up in case he attacks as obviously he is crazy along with homeless.  He then proceeds to tell me that he scouts models and I would do very well in the “Asian market.”  Awesome..

I always knew that if my career didn’t pan out, I should have a back up plan.  It sounds a little like human trafficking but hey…it’s a free trip overseas.  I am really laughing now when he closes the deal.

He tell me that actually he is a model himself.  Hold the phone.

The guy has my attention now.  Seeing as  he looks like the only place I would see his picture is on the wall of shame mugshots posted every Wednesday on Orange County Sheriffs  Office community alert  web page.

He then hands me a business card.  He had a stack of them. I stick it in my pocket and hurry inside.  It’s not until I am at my desk do I read it.  In case you can’t see, it says;

The International Guy

Ready for modeling, TV commercials etc..   (the etc.. is especially worrisome)

Born in Japan (he does know the Asian market)

Lived in Guam

Ethnic background: African American, French Creole, American Indian (not sure how that all goes together but ok)

Many Greek and Mexican Friends (It’s weird but I can’t put that on my resume)

I might be a little late to jump into the international modeling scene, but I have always wanted to see Asia.

Any bets on if the cell phone actually works?