It's The Simple Things That Make Life Great

Is there anything as simple and amazing as sharing dinner with friends and family? We strive to do Saturday or Sunday dinners with friends and family, and I have to tell you there's not much in this world that I enjoy better, sans the occasional minute and a half excursion with the misses.

I have to admit however, that I struggle with one aspect the dinners; We're so blessed to have so many friends that I agonize limiting the number of people who can comfortably attend. I want everybody here and it pains me to have to exclude anyone. We used to do Soprano's Sundays with 18 to 24 people almost every Sunday for as long as the seasons lasted, but it got very chaotic and very expensive. I do have to admit that I loved every minute of it. I used to refer to it as memory making in hopes that the kids would think of the great times that occurred during their childhood week after week.

As you would imagine, many of the meals are Italian. Pasta and gravy, Arincini, sausages onions and peppers and then a few glasses of Limoncello or Sambuca with espresso, they are gastrointestinal marathons.

I'm not quite sure why the post, but I suppose the the purpose of the blog is to share, and the dinners are one place where we excel in sharing.

If you find yourself in the neighborhood, drop us a line and we'll put out a plate for you. I can guarantee you'll leave with a belly full of food that is sore from the laughing. Salute!

Timber!

Some people call New Hampshire during the holidays, "God's Country." This reference is probably not because God likes to buy cheap cigarettes, cheap liquor or the other tax free shopping available in this "Live Free Or Die" state. It's more due to the fact that it's damned right pretty around here during the holidays.

Deb and I shared a special moment yesterday. For the first time in our relationship we sought out and cut down our own Christmas Tree. Now you may be saying that this should be a family event, but the truth is our children have secretly met and reached consensus that their parents are now officially the uncoolest people this, and any side of the Mississippi. They wanted nothing to do with getting the Christmas tree. It's almost like they believe the sole purpose of Christmas is to get presents and eat.

It wasn't a farm, but someone's actual residence that advertised "cut your own trees". We drove down a dirt driveway and found a quaint house with a quaint gentleman standing in his driveway. He had a saw horse with a tin tea canister that had a hand written sign that stated, "pay here." There was also a small selection of hand saws to choose from.

I have to admit that the 27 acres were scenic. It's probably corny to make reference to Norman Rockwell, but that's what it was like. We held hands as we walked by the pond and toward the selection of soft blue pines. Debbie asked me to imagine she and I retired in a similar spot with dogs, camp fires, and all the peace and tranquility that goes along with such places.

We browsed the selection of pines and found the sparsley branched tree that reflected Deb's vision. Again, the classic New England scenery, the hand holding, and the light banter all made for a very romantic atmosphere. Unfortunately this all came to an end when I cut down the tree and dropped it on my wife's head. If this wasn't bad enough, I bonked her in the head again when I was carrying it in the house.

It's the beginning of a Cristmas I'll never forget, and she'll never remember.

"Kids Say the Darndest Things"

I remember a comedian once saying that kids are brutally honest. If a kid tells you you're ugly...you are. I had a similar experience last weekend.

I said hello to the kid in this picture, you know, just trying to be friendly. Her response? "You're bald!" Um, yes, I am... "And your teeth are yellow!" She then turned to Debbie who was laughing hysterically. Debbie asked, "Are my teeth yellow?" The little girl said, "Well, they're not too bad, maybe a little on the bottom, but they're not nearly as bad as his."

When you think you are all that, and you have the world under control, kids will intentionally or not, ground you. This is why we ground them...

I'd tell you more about my conversation with this little one, but she left stating she couldn't tolerate the "stinky" cologne I was wearing.

Shower to the People!

Like most parents who have teenagers, we are challenged by usual things that kids do, such as leaving every light in the house on, or not eating anything that we make short of cheeseburgers and fries. The shower has recently been more of an issue for us. It's confusing. How can two kids who don't pick up after themselves, especially their rooms turn into clean freaks when they enter the shower? I'm talking about half hour or more marathons. They tell me that I don't understand because I don't have to wash my hair which is kind of a cheap shot and completely untrue. I do have to wash my hair, it's just that when a shampoo bottle says to pour a quarter size drop into your hand, I get fifteen cents back. More recently the kids have been using the long since abandoned bath tub.

On Saturday, Casa De Calabrese was enjoying a usual Saturday morning. I had my iPod on while washing the dishes. Zachary decided to take a bath. Deb was heading toward the shower. I was jamming away and scrubbing the breakfast dishes when I was struck with something. Debbie had gotten into the shower and started lathering when all of the hot water went bye-bye. She was immediately pelted with ice cold water. She literally jumped out of the shower and tried to get my attention. This was a challenge as I was "live in concert" and dancing in place. Deb reached into out pantry, grabbed a pack of bagels and let them fly. It scared the crap out of me, and by the way bagels have some weight to them. That's how things roll at the house.

Shower story #2

Before I got into the shower this morning I reinstalled the smoke detector in our back hall that connects the kitchen and downstairs bathroom. I did notice that there was no nine volt but the smoke detector is hard wired. No sooner had I jumped in the shower when the smoke detector let out a quick high picthed alert, this to indicate the battery needed to be replaced. Now I should tell you that the alarm on the smoke detector scares the living daylights out of our dogs, especially Bean. So it was no surprise ot me that after it had gone off, Bean was quickly at the bathroom door. She was frantic, so frantic that I had to step out of the shower and let her in the bathroom. I couldn't believe it when she ran right into the running shower. Picture me in all of my nakedness, (talk about your appetite surpessants...) trying to puch a fifty pound dog out of a running shower. After a second I gave up and just shut the door and proceeded to kill two birds with one stone. Bean and I emerged from the shower, both clean with shiny coats, and it was still shorter than the kids' showers...

"Uncle" Bertie Kline clearly still distraught by what happened in 1985.

Christmas in London

I've just returned from my latest trek abroad. I was in London this week. It wasn't the greatest in terms of finding "posting" inspiration as I was was incredibly busy with work type stuff. I did manage to get out with the camera a few times as is evident by the picture to your left. I found it really interesting to note how deeply the city is in the throws of the Christmas Season. While in the pub during lunch (which is still the coolest thing ever) I stated, "We usually wait until after Thanksgiving to put up lights etc." Um mate, we don't celebrate Thanksgiving here." "Yeah sure, you probably don't bother with the 4th of July either!" (note: they don't.) Another in a series of awkward moments while travelling to different places. So if you're travelling here's a few tips as represented by mistakes I've made.

In some hotel rooms you have to put your card key in a slot to activate the electricity in your room. I didn't know this. I was in complete darkness feeling around the walls and switches to get any kind of light in the room. The bellman who brought up my bag to find me deep in the room cold, lost and scared was quite amused.

There's no faster way of showing you are an American than by tipping. Everybody in America, whether it's the person behind the Dunkin Donuts counter to the local plumber expects a gratuity. This is not so in many places. I put a tip down at a pub and one of my mates immediately picked it up and told me not to ever do that again. Most restaurants already include a service charge. Don't pay double, we're in a credit crisis dummy!

While presenting to a large group of Brits, don't tell people they have two options by sticking up your two fingers with the back of your hand out toward them. Your essentially telling them to f*#k off. Insurance executives don't seem to like this. Also don't ever make reference to a "fanny pack" as it doesn't mean the same thing as it does here. This being said, if you are a guy and have or make reference to a fanny pack you probably deserve what's coming to you.

Soccer is football and like many people in the states, football is religion. Don't say it's a lousy sport, especially in a pub. Also, if you're going to spend any real time there, learn the teams. Go Manchester United!!!

Speaking of football, they wonder why we strong Americans need so much padding. They are also mysteriously offended by the Patriots (which they pronounce with a soft a.)

Also:

Learn the metric system
Warm ale is good
An ale or beer in the day is Okay.
Malted vinegar goes on chips, not Ketchup
If your looking left to cross the street, you probably should be looking right
Mopeds and scooters are not uncool here
People dress with flair and style. There are lots of fancy suits, lots of cuff links and most people wear scarves
People still listen to Uriah Heep, Status Quo, and Queen.The Kings of Leon are considered rock Gods here and fill 100,000 seat stadiums.
Don't be a dobber, don't drive whilest pissed, and don't ever toast with an empty glass

Cheers.

"Tom Waits For No One"

You know you've had a fantastic experience if it the memory stays fresh and repeatedly creeps back into your thoughts. I've been blessed with many, but I've intended to write this one down for some time as it was a brief, but great father son moment.

Earlier this year I had the opportunity to see one of my musical heroes, Tom Waits (Please note for the record that I was turned on to Tom Waits by my lovely bride who has not let me forget this or anything else since. Thanks Deb!)

Tom being the nut that he is squashed my dream of Deb, myself and my buddies seeing him in Boston at the Orpheum theater. His tour omitted the usual "Big Market" stops like New York, Boston, Chicago or Los Angeles and took a different path to such thriving metropolitan areas as, Tulsa, El Paso, Mobile, Columbus, and Okay, Atlanta. "Screw it"I said, looked at the dates in terms of what would work and decided Atlanta would be the target. This would be the last stop on this brief tour.

The show was scheduled for July 5th. This was going to be tight, as we had concrete plans for the 4th and we were leaving for a 10 day family vacation on the morning of the 7th. My dad committed to not only coming to the show, but driving the 6 hours to get there. Deb opted out due to the impracticalities, the logistics and general stupidity of flying to Atlanta for one night to see a concert, (Thank God someone in the family actually uses their brain.)

I got to Atlanta fairly early, checked into the hotel and walked over to the theater. Amazingly, even though it was only 10:00 in the morning there were quite a few people milling about the The historic Fox Theater, home of many legendary performances including the classic Lynyrd Skynyrd live album "One For/From the Road." I spoke to almost everybody there finding out where they were from, where they were sitting, what TW disc was their favorite etc. I was not surprised to see that I wasn't the only loser who travelled to come to the show. There were people from the West Coast, Germany, Sweden, Spain, and even a far off place called Milwaukee. Again, it should be noted that Tom Waits does not tour often and when he does, he doesn't go far and he doesn't go long (sounds disturbingly familiar...Sorry Deb.)

I toured the theater and later met up with my dad and his misses. We had a couple of drinks and then dinner. Joyce opted out of going to the concert as the gravely whisky and cigarette soaked voice possessed by Mr Waits is an acquired taste much like Scotch or Moxie, (for those reading who are not familiar with Moxie, it's an acquired taste much like Scotch or Tom Waits music.)

To make a long story not so long, I'll state that the concert was all I thought it would be. Tom Waits is an amazing performer and someone, like Sinatra or the Stones should at least be seen once in your lifetime. I do however have to admit that early on in the show I tried not to look at my dad, this for fear of seeing him disengaged, bored or tired. I just wasn't sure if he was going to enjoy it and selfishly I didn't want to spoil my own experience. I was thrilled however to look over and see him into it. We met the people around us, yet again noting that people came from all over the globe. We all shook hands talked laughed and joked and created our own miniature, temporary community. Dad and I were a well oiled communicating machine with people probably remembering the guy with his bald father being a really fun part of the show(warning: This is an inside joke. Male pattern baldness skips a generation.) Anyway We were all in it together, that is until about three quarters of the way through the show when I couldn't resist the temptation to get a closer look. I abandoned dear old dad and the temporary U.N. to get a better look. Technically, it wasn't rushing the stage, it was more a moderate limp down the aisle, but I did manage to kneel and watch a song or two from about the second row(note: Tom looked better from the 26th.)

All in all a fantastic experience. I got up the next morning, had breakfast with Dad and Joyce. We said our goodbyes and I was off to the airport. Worth it? Absolutely! The show was great, the people were fantastic, but the time spent with the "old man" was great. It's weird in a way it was poetic justice. Deb may have turned me on to Tom Waits, but my father is the one who instilled the great love of music. Just look at his comments from the Buddah posting. He knows his shit. Thanks Dad.

Home At Last (at least for the moment...)

I was warned that the momentum of the Asia Pacific trip, as well as the jet lag would hit me like a classic Mike Tyson punch once I finally got home. I started feeling the effect once I was en route and it was certainly amplified when I found myself stranded at Logan International (The Limo Company had me booked for the next day), but I was clobbered once I actually got home.

The last thing I wanted to do once home was to eat out, but I hadn't had a slice of pizza in three weeks. Halfway through eating I completely stopped talking. As much as I had missed the family and as much as I wanted to spend time with them, I just wanted to go to be and get some real sleep. Awaking the next morning I had high aspirations; running, doing some long neglected chores around the house, or even some work work, I was home and ready for the day. "I'll get started immediately, well after I lay down for just a minute..." A minute turned into an hour and an hour turned into hours. Jerry Springer, The Food Network, ESPN, and Oprah. I only left the couch to grab snacks, and use the clockwise flushing toilet. Over the next few days I frequently fell asleep, got nothing done and was generally useless. Deb didn't seem to notice any difference...

"Show Me the Way To go Home"

Well I'm sitting at Heathrow airport awaiting the last leg of my journey. I started at 1:05 Hong Kong time and I'm actually feeling pretty good considering the trip. I have had the benefit of a shower and managed to brush my teeth which most here won't notice, but I can assure you if I hadn't, people would have started dropping spare change in my hands. My appearance, aroma, and breath were dreadful after the 13 hour flight. Kind of what you would imagine Keith Richards would have smelled like in the 70's. Now it's a four hour layover and a quick seven hour shuttle across the pond to Logan.

I hope you all continue to keep checking the site as I intend to keep writing. I'm eager to see you all very soon, especially you Ms Calabrese...

Speaking of Calabrese, can anyone provide the real pronounciation? When I was a kid I always pronounced the e at the end. My brother Jimmy never did, and I think my brother Billy bounced back and forth. Everyone I meet outside the country manage to make it sound more Italian by emphasizing the vowels and adding an Italian accent to it. It sounds pretty good to me. At this writing I'm considering a family vote, or I may elect to just go with the single name Jack, you know, like Sting or Madonna, but without the talent. Can't wait to hear the family comments on this one...

Heard About the Food Problems in Asia?

Let's play a game. Take a good look at this picture and see if you can find what's missing.

I walked down a random street in Hong Kong and came upon stall after stall of local food vendors. Whether you're looking for fish, vegetables, spices, or meats, it all seems to be here. Despite a tremendous number of people, there seems to be no shortage of anything with the exception of...do you see it? There's no freaking ice! No cold packs, no cold air or refrigeration whatsoever. When I took this shot it was well into the afternoon and it was about 80 degrees. Being the only non Asian on the street taking pictures, I'm certain that if I asked, I would receive only the freshest choice cut imaginable. Hotel food? Yes please! Actually, I tried a bunch of things here, the majority of them strange and delicious. Indigestion or intestinal distress? It never happened. Here's a quick list:

Pork Cheeks with Spicy Chili Sauce

Chili Crab

Razor Clams

Giant Periwinkles (raw, of course...)

Fried baby quid (whole. If you told me I was eating fried scorpions I would have believed it)

Pork necks

Spicy Sting Ray

Cold Malted Barley juice

Smoked Eel

and a bunch of stuff, quite honestly I didn't know what it was...

These beautiful people eat every part of the animal. Pork Cheeks, you got it! Calf testicles? You can't eat just one. I can only imagine what my kids and most of their friends would do if they lived here. I can't get mine to eat asparagus, never mind something like sauteed fish livers...There are definitely fast food places here, but their food is closer to that nature intended us to eat, this being said, I'm dying for a tuna fish sandwich on toast...

Hong Kong

When I was a kid my friend Greg and I would hang out in my parents basement and listen to my father's extensive record collection. We'd listent to all types of music including old rock and roll and soul from artists like, The Impressions and Gladys Knight and the Pips who were both on Buddah Records. Well, sadly, Buddah Records is long gone, but the symbol of that great label remains!!

At the summit of Ngong Ping sits the Tian Ten Buddah, popularly referred to as the, "Big Buddah." It's an impressive thing to see and worth the gondola ride through the mountains, and to be honest I can't believe how many people remember Buddah records. There were people from everywhere!

Seriously, the pictures do not do it justice. It's a very impressive piece, I'd like to say of history, but I was disappointed to find that it was completed way way back in 1993. Notice the right hand of th eBuddah is raised. This is to symbolize the removal of affliction. The many gift shops that sit at the base have vendors who raise their right hands and symbolze the removal of your cash.

"Big Ole Jet Air O Liner..."

Of all the goofy, touristy pictures I've taken this may be the goofiest. This is the plane we took from Melbourne to Singapore. I was seated on the top level in business class which, to my disappointment did not have a bar. Once I was in my seat I was asked by the flight attendant if Iwanted to change into pajamas? Was he asking me to slip into something more comfortable? Is this the mile high club? Couldn't I just watch the in flight movie? Actually, I've considered becoming a half member of the mile high club but Debbie tells me I'll go blind.

anyway, I politely declined stating that I generally sleep nude and that I have a tendency to sleep walk. If you find me wandering through coach later on, please don't wake me up.

The flight attendant was not amused, actually, I thought it was pretty funny myself. People in business class need to lighten up...

New Friends

Here's a quick shot of me with the IT Support department at a pub in Australia. We would have invited other people from the office, but they were all trying to get their computers working or something like that. As you can see, aside from my colleague Karrie and local Jacquelyn Kearns (Jack) I possess the follicular requirements of being on this IT team. Cheers lads...

Safety Travelling Abroad

Here's a quick tip for you. When travelling to a different country it's best to try to blend into the cultural surroundings. Wearing baseball caps and Bruce Springsteen T shirts is not the best strategy when trying to fit in with the locals. Here I am looking very stealth like in Sydney. Wish'd I brought my giant foam finger with the USA #1 on it.

We Leave Tonight For Singapore

Today's title listed above is from the Tom Waits song, "Singapore." It appears he had a very interesting time while he was here. Here's a few lines:

"Don't fall asleep while you're ashore."
(This is the first thing I did when I got here, but I slept at the hotel.Maybe I'll sllep on the shore tonight...)

"The whole town is made of iron ore." (There's construction across from my hotel that is incredible.)

"Fill your pockets up with earth. Get yourself a dollars worth." (Like many things here, I'm certain this is illegal in Singapore.)

"The captain is a one armed dwarf. He's rolling dice along the wharf." (Okay, Tom's not the most stable of indiviuals, but everyone I've seen thus far are blessed to have all of their limbs. also, dice seems a better choice than cards, shuffling with one arm must be a drag.)

Regardless of the mindless banter you just endured, I'm exited to be here in Singapore. It's a very clean and manicured city that I'm eager to explore. Singapore is also known for having great cuisine, especially out in the many food stands around the city. I'm hoping to experience new things and I'm intent to limit the meals eaten in an actual restaurant. I'm ready and willing to try just about anything and I'm armed with a full bottle of Immodium, so stay tuned...

Open Letter (Birthday Card) to the Kids

One of the real bummers about this gig is that you sometimes find yourself on the road when something important is happening at home. In the past number of years I have missed the occasional football game, band concert or open house. It's fun travelling but there's always an emptiness that you're not sharing the experience with the ones you love. Anyway, yesterday was Zachary's birthday, and to be honest Vanessa's celebration took a back seat to both a neighborhood event and preparations for my current trip. With this in mind I'd like to convey a few words about these most special people.


You kids are a royal pain in the arse as they say here, but your our royal pain in the arses. I cannot tell you how proud I am of both of you. You are each special in your own way and possess the talent and ability to do almost anything. You have both proven to be very kind and considerate to people and it's always been commented that you are two of the most polite and well mannered kids people have seen.

Your mother will probably kill me for saying this, but years from now we'll laugh when we reminisce about your messy rooms, th eoccasional blunder in school, or the time the "F" word slipped out at the family function. This being said, try to stay out of real trouble. You're both at an age where you'll experience many moods and different influences. Choose carefully, and don't do anything you'll regret. In the long run all you have is your integrity, your reputation, and your self respect. you'll find yourself much easier to like and you'll be able to move much further ahead if you're not carrying the emotional baggage that comes with regret.

In a very short period you'll be driving, going through your high school years then off to college and a career. This is where the real foundation of your life is built. Make sure it's solid.

It's important to not only fill your life with people you love, but also people you like

If it's safe and won't hurt you or anyone around you, embrace as many experiences as you can. Just make sure they're positive.

Believe it or not, there's no such thing as bad music. There's just what you like and what you don't like. Don't be afraid to listen to music that's deemed uncool. If it it sounds good and touches your soul, then so be it. I can't tell you why I like Journey, Bryan Adams, Neil Diamond, or Barry Manilow, I just do.

Cherish each other. You are the only borhter and sister you're going to have. You choose whether you'll have a life long great relationship or one that is strained. It's a lot more fun to have the former.

Organize yourself as much as possible as you'll find work, play and anything you do easier. Take this from someone who is both obsessive compulsive and a huge procrastonator at the same time. I want all of those soup cans to be aligned perfectly, I'm just not willing to take the time to do it myself.

READ anything and everything. Give me the name of any real successful person and I can guaranteee that they are a veraciuous reader. This is especially true of your current interests in the arts. It's cool that you can act, sing and play guitar, but you need to have something to say if you really want to move people.

Stop not trying different food. There's a ton of amazing things to eat in this world. IF you're limiting what you'll try you're limiting the things you'll discover that you actually love. And by the way, you're driving your poor mother crazy. Vanessa, yes you do like pasta. Zachary, I'm sure you can eat mashed potatoes without actually gagging. Get over it.

Fish won't kill you
Fruit is yummy
Vegetables aren't gross
You can't live on Pop Tarts and Cheese Its
Despite what your uncle Jimmy and Billy say, I make the best Calabrese sauce. Your grandfather's isn't even close!

Find a career that you really want to do in life. If you truly love it, the money will come and it won't ever seem like work. Embrace your passions. I can only imagine the success I would have if I pursued the things I loved. At least I did this with your mother.

Speaking of her. Cherish your mother. She's simply the best of the best. Recognize this and help her where you can. The time you invest with her will bring returns for the rest of your lives.

love you guys a lot!!!! Looking forward to getting home.

New and Interesting People

One of the great things about travelling abroad is that you have the opportunity to meet new and interesting people. Here I am sitting with an Aboriginal tribesman (He's on the left.) He's playing a Didjuridu and was playing what he called indiginous music. to be honest it sounded like the beginning of Aeromsith's "Sweet Emotion" but who am I to question him. Actually when he was taking a break I swear I saw him checking his Blackberry and drinking a Starbuck's Latte.

I should also mention that many people are incredibly interested in what's going on back home with the election. There is an overwhelming hope (no pun intended) that we elect candidate Obama. If you're interested in other people's perspectives, people outside of the U.S. still cannot believe we elected Mr. Bush to a second term. They think he's an idiot and has adversely impacted the country in so many ways that it will be decades before we recover.

There's a real hope that we in the U.S. can pull ourselves not only out of our current issues, i.e. war, economic downturns, but maybe gain a better perspective of how we live. I met one woman who stated that she loved people from the U.S. but feels sorry for us in that we live in a constant state of fear. She feels that our government and the special interests adversely affect the way people live and are robbing us of our personal freedom. I fear she may be right.

In the very little travelling I've done outside the country I have been exposed to people who display a certain confodence I don't see at home. They seem to value the quality of life and have a much better work life balance. Even the people in the occassionally stuffy and impersonal world of insurance seem to embrace one another in a way that I wish we would. Bosses and front line entry level workers mix at the pub during lunch or after work. Family and personal time is valued and embraced. It's an interesting and enlightening thing to see.

There's no doubt that as temporary visitor I'm seeing things with rose colored glasses. But for me, I'll take the positives from the experiences and try to implement them in my own life, and I don't just mean going to the pub more often...

"Holy Bat Sh...!"

I'll finish this post later, but the bats I mentioned in a previous post don't live in cave or some far away hidden place. The hang in the trees of the botanical gardens right in the center of town. I couldn't help but be fascinated by them. I stood in the park for a good hour just watching them hang and fly from tree to tree. They do have this incredible shriek that would scare most kids. This is an amazing place...

A Few Words On Campari

I had dinner at one of those revolving dinner places last night, but here's the only picture I took. My friend Tim is a big fan of Campari and he's been nipping at a bottle I bought almost 5 years ago. It's amazing that it still retains the same unpleasant, nasty, disgusting taste that it had 5 years ago. I think Campari is Italian for fermented sweat sock juice...Hi Timmy!!

Little Stevie Blunder

Yesterday during lunch I had to run back to my hotel to get a few things. When the elevator opened Stevie Wonder and his entourage walked out. I said to the guy next to me, "Hey, that's Stevie Wonder, man I'd love to get an autograph." The guy said, "Yeah mate that would be splendid, but here's the thing, Stevie Wonder is blind." I felt like an idiot. Anyway, here's a picture of Stevie Wonder signing autographs. I'd like to report that I got one, but sadly when I stuck out a magazine for him to sign, he missed and signed my forearm. Just kidding...

Under The Bridge Down Town

So here I am at the summit of the Harbour Bridge in Sydney. Our Guide said that it was built sometime during the 18 or 1900's and is something or other feet tall. To be honest I wasn't really listening (nothing new.) As you can see they give you these Ghostbusters type suits and everything you're wearing, hats, gloves, handkerchiefs, are all clipped. They also make you take a Breathalyzer and you have to remove all metal objects. You also can't take your own camera. They say it's for safety reasons but it's more likely to charge you $29.95 for lousy two pictures. I hated to do it but how many times do you get to capture a shot like this? It was really an incredible experience and Sydney at night is simply beautiful. The one thing that was missing however was the family. I especially wanted Zachary up there with me. I miss them very much.

One interesting part of the ascent was looking at the dozens of fruit bats that were flying around us as we were climbing, many of them with wing spans of up to 5 feet. Most people were creeped out, but not me. I didn't eat anything before the climb, so I was dreaming of the bats with the Colonel's seven secret herbs and spices. Mmmmm, battylicious!!!

Has Anybody Seen The Bridge?

Here's a picture of the Harbour Bridge in Sydney. One of the fine folks in the Sydney office has scheduled a few of us to do the Bridge Walk. The Bridge walk takes you...well, across the bridge. but here's the thing, it's across the very top of the bridge. Apparently they put you in some type of jump suit and you are tethered. Oh, by the way they give you a breathalizer. Too bad, it would have been nice to go... More on this in a few days.

Living (visiting actually) In a Land Down Under

I left the house at 2:00 on Sunday afternoon and finally arrived in Sydney at 9:00 Tuesday morning. It's a hell of a long flight and it was a bit surreal. I knew I was off to explore a whole new world and on the second leg of my flight I was in business class with a bunch of other travellers, each of us in our own little pod. At one point during the night I woke up to see a an electric blue light radiating through pod land. It seemed very reminiscent of the suspended animation scene in the first Alien movie. Regardless, this is an amazing place. I took this picture my first afternoon here and also was blessed to get a closer look during my morning run (actually, it's kind of slow mutated jog. picture Herman Munster with a pulled hamstring.) The little I've seen of Sydney lives up to its hype. It's beautiful, lush and green wiht fantastic weather. The people are incredibly friendly and haven't violently responded to my repeated requests to throw something, anything on the barbie.

I am a little disappointed in myself as I've promised ot eat only food I can't get in the States, but the pasta with sausages were pretty good...Cheers mate!

I Like People...I Swear

I pride myself as an individual who likes to meet and learn about new people with one exception; I have a difficult time engaging in conversations on planes. This is especially true when I'm on a long flight. There are multiple reasons for this, but the biggest reason is my inability to stay awake. I don't know if it's the recycled air or the gentle roar of the jet engines, but if there were a hijacking you could count on the fact that the terrorists would have little difficulty subduing me. They may even get me a blanket. Not long ago I was booking a flight to London when my boss suggested that we sit next to each other so we could get some work done and get to know each other a little better. I politely passed knowing that it would not bode well for me to conk out and drool all over her. Another reason is that I don't want to make polite conversation for hours on end. I'd rather say hello, read, work, listen to music or slide into the previously mentioned coma.



As I started my latest trek I encountered my ultimate nightmare of a travel neighbor. The plane was completely full and I was one of the last people to board the plane. I was travelling from Boston to Sydney Australia with a connection in L.A. and I was anxious about this first leg, the only one where I wouldn't be booked in business class. To make matters worse, I was in a middle seat. When I got close to my row, the 300 pound plus man said, "You're not going to find a place to put your bag." My heart sunk. It was true, the airline's genius move to charge people to check bags has prompted people to fill up the overhead bins like my new found friend jammed himself into his and a little of my seat.

Once I got the bag squared away some 30 rows behind me, I sat and he started talking. And when I mean talking, he was babbling. He was in Boston for a family reunion, he used to be a DJ, his kids don't speak to him anymore, what did I think of the new Eagles album? I was hit with a barrage of information I wasn't remotely interested it, especially the Eagles new shitty album. Things got worse when we finally started taxiing down the runway and he started flipping through the pocket in front of him, "Man, I should have brought something to read with me for this flight!" No worries, I can talk to the nice bald man about my new heart condition and my love for all things orange.

The flight went on, we chatted, and I politely turned to my reading. Nothing too heavy, just Rolling Stone. Babbles, not having anything to do and obviously attempting to lure me into further banter kept commenting on the pictures in the magazine. Then the coughing started. Not a mild little clear the tickle out my throat mind you, but a loud, violent, productive hack. Excellent, I thought, I've always wanted to have a cold in Australia. This cough occurred every 8 minutes without fail, all the while hacking into his right untissued, unhankerchifed, unnapkined hand.

Every time he spoke, I could feel his hot breath bouncing off of my face. He must of though I was slightly austistic as my new speech impediment appeared as a result of trying to hold my breath and speak at the same time.

After while, not having anything better to do, he proceeded to fart. I couldn't hear them, but I was starting to catch wafts of the corned beef sandwich and Schlitz he probably had earlier. I knew he was rationalizing his gastrointestinal sharing as harmless because he couldn't smell them, but the guy on the other side of me could and probably thought I was the culprit and I was obviously dying from the inside out.

To make an already long story short, he finally slipped into unconsciousness and started drooling on the floor in front of him. I considered putting my foot out for a free shine but I didn't want to get my socks wet.

The flight and my misery finally came to an end, but not without one final moment. What was I to do when he put his phlegm hand out to say goodbye (which he did)? Now I know why Michael Jackson wore that glove. I'd write more but I have to go nurse this cold...

Chili Cook Off

I've got to tell you; as cool as a chili cook off may sound, it really isn't. Here's why; every goof ball thinks they make the best chili in the entire chili loving world, but as American Idol, kids who wear their pants hanging off of their ass, and those who just love country music show, bad taste abounds. Here's the other thing, while a bowl of chili may be fine, sampling 12 different chili's with secret ingredients like bacon, maple syrup, bourbon, or Pop Rocks, your stomach can only handle so much. I participated in a company sponsored chili cook off more than 9 hours ago and I'd still appreciate it if someone would kill me.

The wierd thing is the event was meant to boost the annual charity giving season. An effort to raise awareness and money for a number of good causes including food shelters. We did this by gorging ourselves.

Next time your asked to take part in a chili cook off, be a jerk and say, "If you've tasted one chili, you've tasted them all." Then go get yourself a nice sandwich. Your breath, spouse, kids, and behind can thank me later...

King George The Wicked

My reality is that I am not the king of my castle. Meet George, a.k.a Jorge, or "Mr Poo Poosh." George was adopted by my wife and although admittedly cute, he's kind of an asshole. He'll be nice to you if he's in the mood, but he won't hesitate to chase and bite you if it suits him. He sleeps between Deb and I and he used to bite me if I tried to get near her. He was our own live form of birth control.

A few weeks ago he showed his affection by pissing on my side of the bed right in front of me. He's probably jealous I still have all of my bits and pieces. Get those pets spayed and neutered everybody!

Unintentional Collage

This is the side of a building across the street from the Fox Theater in Atlanta. There's no deep meaning to the shot, I just don't know anybody here.

I thought the composition interesting and something that would probably look good on canvas, but I'll never do it. This is the real beauty of digital photography...

That's nice...

So you're bored enough to view the ramblings of a man with an attention span shorter than the average Ramones song. I'm not entirely certain where this thing is going to take me but I figure it is a good place to keep in touch with those of you who are interested in keeping in touch. I'll be off to Australia , Singapore, and Hong Kong in a few weeks so this will serve as a travel journal, documenting the high adventures of the average insurance schmuck. Hopefully I'll have something interesting to report. In the coming posts, you can be assured of outrageous tales of insurance groupies, hanging on the red carpet with celebrities, and the occasional bar room brawl. As you can tell, I'm not beyond temptation of the occasional embelishment.

Bless you Samuel Clemens wherever you are...