Somalia, Snow White, & The Sting Of A Loved One's Death

Recently I read a story about a Somalian family in Indianapolis that was like a punch to the gut. Less than a full week after fleeing war-ravaged Somalia and locating in a place much safer and more secure, tragedy struck most unexpectedly. While riding a bicycle near their new home, the family’s young girl was struck and killed by a car reportedly driven by a woman who apparently fell asleep at the wheel. If viewed with media drama we might observe many of the things that went wrong to cause this senseless loss of life, and allow ourselves to be terrified of a number of seemingly harmless events. In actuality, there is really no answer to the reverberating “why” of it all, other than the fact that freak accidents happen from time to time. I could suggest that parents should keep their kids out of the road, but I’ve been guilty of letting mine go into the street to ride a bike, walk the dog, and even throw a baseball in times past. The truth of the matter, though, is the same accident could’ve easily have happened right in the front yard. I could overstate the obvious and say the woman shouldn’t have allowed herself to drive if she was that sleepy, but then again, I’ve been just as guilty of driving while tired and nearly falling asleep. Truthfully, though, this could’ve happened while she was wide awake. No doubt whoever suggested the family move in the first place is kicking themselves for making the suggestion, and the family is crushed they ever followed through. I’m sure the motorist is regretful of leaving the moment she did, for if she’d have gone a couple minutes earlier or later, this may not even be a story. But, is there really any feelings of regret that should be harbored? I suppose if we knew how we were going to die we’d avoid the causative activity with a pronounced focus. Such thinking is fruitless, and so is looking back on such an activity and saying 1) the family never should’ve moved, 2) the kid should’ve never been riding in the road, & 3) the woman should’ve pulled over for a rest before falling asleep. It just happened, plain and simple.
As if that wasn’t morbid enough, though, I came across an eerily similar account in, of all places, the fabulous book about Walt Disney by Neil Gabler. Disney & his brother, Roy, worked hard at building the company from nothing, all the while wishing they could have their aging parents closer to them. Located in southern California while mom & pop were in the Pacific Northwest, visits were very few and far between. The reason they couldn’t be closer? money. The elder Disney’s were landlords and couldn’t leave the source of their meager existence. The boys were pouring every last bit of earnings back into the company, and had none to spare to move their parents near them. Then Snow White came to the rescue. From struggling to outrageously wealthy in a few short months, Walt & Roy suddenly became enabled to buy a house and bring their beloved mom & dad to L.A. A very, very short time later, their mother was dead: seemingly due to the faulty installation or shoddy condition of a brand new heating & cooling system. The air wasn’t been circulated properly, and carbon monoxide poisoning resulted. It bears repeating: I suppose if we knew how we were going to die we’d avoid the causative activity with a pronounced focus. Such thinking is fruitless, and so is looking back on such an activity and saying 1) the family never should’ve moved, 2) the heating & cooling company should’ve never been chosen, & 3) the system should’ve been checked and re-checked prior to the move-in date. It just happened, plain and simple.
The Somalian family will begrudgingly speak of the city of Indianapolis for years to come, just like Snow White was the cause of some bitter memories for some in the Disney clan. But our great state’s capital and the lovely friend of dwarves had nothing to do with these deaths, really. The fact is people die from a plethora of different things that shouldn’t be avoided because of it. Motorcycles, cars, zoos, jet-skiing, swimming, mountain climbing, jogging in the woods, sex, sports…the list could go on and on when it comes to some of the things people have been doing when they died.
So what’s the point? Actually, it’s just a simple note to self to value every second of life, every breath, every conversation, every hug, every meal, every walk, every passed ball, every holiday, and every other seemingly “little” thing I experience. I want to be conscious of every detail, regardless of how miniscule it may seem. I want to soak up all of other people I can get, and willingly share my best self with all who are around me.
Two songs come to mind, one from yesterday, and one fresh one from today. Steven Curtis Chapman’s The Next Five Minutes & Woody Bradshaw’s The Last Thing You Do. May we all live it.

A Smudge On The Crystal Ball

As I was finishing reading Neil Gabler's Walt Disney last week I came across an interesting bit o' information. Two notable things happened in the year 1955 that 50+ years later still find the world feeling the repurcussions. On April 15 of that year, Ray Kroc opened a franchised restaurant called McDonald's, in Des Plaines, Illinois. A quarter year later, on July 17, Walt opened Disneyland in Anaheim, California. At some point, the paths of Kroc & Disney crossed, and the former referenced his recent purchase of a fast-food restaurant chain, and posed to the latter his desire to open a unit inside Disneyland, which was denied. My first thought was how powerful a combination it would have been, and that Walt Disney certainly made a mistake in not seeing the potential of such a great concept as McDonald's. Then, of course, I was quick to remind myself that it doesn't look as though either company suffered anything from the avoided marriage. According to a Business Week report in 2004 concerning the top brands in the world, Disney was ranked #6 and McDonald's was #7. (Read the PDF here.)
I then recalled John Greenleaf Whittier's poignant poem Maud Miller, in which he said:

For of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: “It might have been!”

But, of course, hindsight is always 20/20. Can we really blame Disney for not accepting the offer? I think not, and here's why. In life we are frequently presented with opportunities (granted, not multi-billion dollar ones) that require split-second decisions, and sometimes we miss it. This little scenario was a gentle encourager to me in that although I may win some, and lose some, a miss doesn't necessarily mean I can't succeed in other manners.

The God Delusion

After some interesting conversations both verbally and electronically with Andy the past couple of months, I've launched out into the depths of atheistic literature. The book I started this weekend is The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, a noted atheist and gifted author, which appears to be a quite potent combination considering that this work is ranked #15 on the New York Times Best Sellers List today, and has been on the list for 32 weeks. I actually referenced Dawkins a few posts ago when I asked Why Believe?, but this is the first time I've read any of his material directly. In the post I linked to an article I found on Arts & Letters daily that I felt was well-written and just enticing enough to probe a bit further, so here I am. As if the article itself wasn't enough, the widely disparate viewpoints of a couple of my friends (Andy & Jabel) on Dawkins & atheism in general have provided the final impetus necessary to get me reading. As a matter of fact, the book was hand-delivered to me by Andy, tucked nicely into a saddle-bag on his beast of a bike and brought the many miles that separate us geographically, so I offer him my sincere thanks.

As of this post, I'm better than 10% of the way through, and already I've found many, many intriguing points. Not the least of which is Dawkins' "spectrum of probability" concerning the existence or non-existence of God. He sums it up as follows:

1. Strong theist. 100 per cent probability of God. In the words of C.G. Jung, 'I do not believe, I know.'
2. Very high probability but short of 100 per cent. De facto theist. 'I cannot know for certain, but I strongly believe in God and live my life on the assumption that he is there.'
3. Higher than 50 per cent but not very high. Technically agnostic but leaning towards theism. 'I am very uncertain, but I am inclined to believe in God.'
4. Exactly 50 per cent. Completely impartial agnostic. 'God's existence and non-existence are exactly equiprobable.'
5. Lower than 50 per cent but not very low. Technically agnostic but leaning towards atheism. 'I don't know whether God exists but I'm inclined to be sceptical.'
6. Very low probability, but short of zero. De facto atheist. 'I cannot know for certain, but I think God is very improbable, and I live my life on the assumption that he is not there.'
7. Strong atheist. 'I know there is no God, with the same conviction that Jung 'knows' there is one.'

Not too long ago I would have unquestionably placed myself in category 1, but now I'm not so sure. What I do know is that I'm determined to never latch onto any belief (or non-belief) without a copious amount of investigation...

Blast From The Past: White Lion's "Wait"

I heard this song on the radio today (Sirius Big 80's) and it brought back some pretty powerful feelings. I grew up obsessed with MTV in the 80's, and this is one of the videos that I really got into. It's full of the big-hair of that decade, and invoked a lot of emotion in my teenage heart. Click here to watch the vid.

Of E-Mail Replies & Ethicist Selection

Scott Adams for President! I love, love, love today's strip.

My First In-Person View Of The HWOTP

I enthusiastically revealed in an earlier post a most phenomenal Christmas gift purchased for me by my adorable gal-pal Amy. Yep…she got me tix to a Christina Aguilera concert, and I’m jotting down here my musings on the mind-blowing trip we just experienced.
We left on a Thursday night last month, right after one of my Financial Accounting classes, and headed out on a road trip toward the concert venue in Cleveland, Ohio. Driving at night, not much traffic, jammin’ to some favorite tunes (thank you, God, for Sirius)…man, it was so relaxing. In a previous employ I spent many hours driving back and forth across US HWY 50 between Bedford & Cincinnati, and it seems not much has changed since last I whip-surfed that blessed asphalt. Somewhere over on 275 we had “a Big & Rich time”, and decided that one thing would help make it a perfect night, so we “had a bowl of that Skyline chili along the way.” It was aj’s first stop-off, her only other experience with Cincinnati style chili coming in the form of Skyline’s MUCH inferior rival, Gold Star. Blah!...who can eat that stuff. Skyline rocks! I even asked the (um, attractive!) waitress which was better, and she agreed Skyline gets the nod;) But, the highlight of the chili-stop was when one of us (I don’t remember which) asked who the best drummer on the planet is, and we both enthusiastically responded with “BARCH!”, and followed up with an emphatic high-five. Yep, Brian Barchman of the world-famous band Junk is the real deal…and you gotta see it to believe it! That first night ended somewhere around Columbus…just an hour or so from the concert venue…
We awoke to Friday the 13th, but this was to be no spooky day. After a quick share (we do that a lot) of Momma’s Pancake Breakfast at Cracker Barrel, we were off toward Cleveland and the Wolstein Center where the HWOTP would be belting out tunes in semi-clad grandeur in just a matter of hours. If I was excited (and I was, so why do I say if?), I kept it stoically hidden behind a stoned-faced determination. Nothing, and I repeat NOTHING, was going to stop me from layin’ blue eyes on the blonde bombshell. About mid-afternoon we spotted the Wolstein, staked out our entry point, and were off to find are snazzy jazzy razzle-dazzle of a place to stay-The Wyndham Cleveland at Playhouse Square. We located it, put my spectacular $400 car in the hands of an awe-struck valet, and strolled into the place like we were rock stars. Man, life is good. A swim & a shower later, it was time to begin the leisurely two block jaunt to the concert hall. The weather was a spot chilly, but that would be the only inconvenience of a perfect day. After standing in line for a spell, turning down some dude sellin’ $10 concert shirts (note to self: GET ONE OUTSIDE NEXT TIME, DORK!), and making the dreaded mistake of uttering the words “American Idol” in line behind a simple girl with nothing better to do than listen to strangers talk behind her and then butt in on the conversation. I really wasn’t annoyed, I’m just funnin’…but she did know a helluva lot more, it seems, even than the 2nd place Idol-addicts, the Jabels. Anyway, we got in the stadium and headed toward our seats, when I was encouraged to take a peak at a cool tattoo (or was it a necklace, aj?) on a chick’s chest. Yip, Amos, they were nice;) And then (hussssssshhhhhhh)…it was all about to happen. The opening act was Dannity Kane, which was a’ight. Next came the Pussycat Dolls, who ain’t right (which is a compliment, btw). Damn! That’s my short review. And then, the world stopped spinning…a light breeze began to blow…and I saw her, “an apparition in white”…
I simply call her “my obsession”, and the majority of folks smile and nod and offer up a simple “everybody has one”, with only a small minority of dishonest souls who are scared of anyone seein’ inside of ‘em says something akin to “there comes a time to grow up” and other snide comments. To the latter a response is not worth the bandwidth, howsoever small, so I’ll ignore them here as I do in person;) But my obsession she is, and when I first saw her silhouette on the stage before the lights came on and the music began to rip, I knew she was worthy of the admiration. For the next 2 hours she belted out hits, new and old alike, in a dizzying display of well-planned sets and mind-boggling choreography. I’ve been to concerts before, and I’ve been mesmerized by the musical talent of such bands as Rascal Flatts, Bon Jovi, System of a Down & others, but this was different somehow. This was as much a production as it was a concert, and gave a whole new meaning to the term “show”. From a critical perspective, in my opinion the whole production was flawless. Her singing is somehow even better in person; the dancing was elaborate and never missed a beat; the costumes were gorgeous and appealing; the stage decoration was very detailed and snazzy; and Christina is certainly a very beautiful woman. Wow, I was and still am in absolute awe.
I could say more and more about the concert, so if you’re interested then just get a hold of me and we’ll discuss it over a favorite libation, something fitting for a conversation about a goddess. But for sake of time & space I’ll finish up this post with a quick summary of the (only slightly) inferior activities that followed our concert experience.
We left the show and walked into downtown Cleveland amidst a throng! Billy Joel was in concert down the road, and had just let out, & the Indians had just played their home-opener at Jacobs Field, and had also just finished, so a confluence of the three crowds descended on the eateries and drinkeries of the area. We settled in a most fascinating bar called Panini’s and ate some of the delectable fare and chatted it up a bit.
The next day we set out on a whirlwind three day road trip that took us to some interesting places. Our first stop was in Buffalo, New York, where we dined at The Anchor Bar, the location of the original Buffalo Hot Wings. This was my 2nd trip to the restaurant, but hopefully not my last. We then headed up to Niagara Falls to take a quick glimpse of the falls before sundown. We were next to American Falls, and looking across to Horseshoe Falls I noticed the place I stood the last time I was there was all covered over with several feet of snow and ice. It was quite extraordinary. Our late night run-around landed us at the Seneca Niagara Casino where our string of bad luck gambling continued, then on to a club for some dancin’ and gettin’ wild.
Then on Sunday we decided to cross over into Canada for the day. We made it through the border search legally, and then we moseyed around the Canadian side of the falls before journeying up to Toronto, which was an uplifting experience, then across the Canadian highways to Detroit, then a stop-off for the night in Toledo. Holy Toledo, it was a happenin’ Sunday night and we had a blast in that city.
Monday was our day to head back home, and thus cap off the excursion with a relaxed pace drive across the northeastern Indiana countryside. All in all, I must say the journey was spectacular, and I hope to do it again.

Icky Thump by The White Stripes

I just took a quick saunter by one of my latest digital haunts, londonilly, and discovered a link to check out the new White Stripes tune Icky Thump. Now, I love, love, love the white Stripes, but this track is off-da-chain! I'm not sure how long the link will work, but check it out here before it's too late!

And I Quote:...

I read a fantastic article in The New Yorker today about quotes. It's worth taking a look at, especially when you consider the licentious audacity to alter a quote to make it more, well, quotable. I'm not liking this activity at all. "Whodathunkit?" Read the article here...

Why Believe?

Following are a couple of quotes from an interesting article I found a link to over on Arts & Letters Daily. I'll let the article speak for itself, but there are a number of things therein that have fluttered across my limited little brain in the past couple of years. It can all be summed up in the two words I've chosen as the title for this post: why believe? To read the article in its' entirety, click here. Now for the quotes of particular interest to me:

"In his 2004 book, The End of Faith, Sam Harris pointed out that alone of all human assertions, those qualifying as "religious," almost by definition, automatically demand and typically receive immense respect, even veneration. Claim that the earth is flat, or that the tooth fairy exists, and you will be deservedly laughed at. But maintain that according to your religion, a seventh-century desert tribal leader ascended to heaven on a winged horse, or that a predecessor had done so, without such a conveyance, roughly 600 years earlier, and you are immediately entitled to deference. It has long been, let us say, an article of faith that at least in polite company, religious faith — belief without evidence — should go unchallenged.
No longer. If recent books — many of them by prominent biologists — are any indication, the era of deference to religious belief is ending as faith is subjected to gimlet-eyed scrutiny."

Then...

"On the one hand, religious belief of one sort or another seems ubiquitous, suggesting that it might well have emerged, somehow, from universal human nature, the common evolutionary background shared by all humans. On the other hand, it often appears that religious practice is fitness-reducing rather than enhancing — and, if so, that genetically mediated tendencies toward religion should have been selected against. Think of the frequent advocacy of sexual restraint, of tithing, of self-abnegating moral duty and other seeming diminutions of personal fitness, along with the characteristic denial of the "evidence of our senses" in favor of faith in things asserted but not clearly demonstrated. What fitness-enhancing benefits of religion might compensate for those costs?
The question itself is novel. Social scientists, for example, have long considered religion as sui generis, not as a behavioral predisposition that arose because in some way it contributed to the survival and reproduction of its participants. For Richard Dawkins (The God Delusion) as well as Daniel C. Dennett (Breaking the Spell), religion is primarily the misbegotten offspring of memes that promote themselves in human minds: essentially, religion as mental virus, thus something adaptive for "itself" and not for its "victims." Or it could be a nonadaptive byproduct of something adaptive in its own right. For example, children seem hard-wired to accept parental teaching, since such advice is likely to be fitness-enhancing ("This is good to eat," "Don't pet the saber-tooth"). In turn, this makes children vulnerable to whatever else they are taught ("Respect the Sabbath," "Cover your hair") as well as downright needy when it comes to parentlike beings, leading especially to the patriarchal sky god of the Abrahamic faiths."

"A World Between A Lilac And A Wall"

After a lapse of a few weeks, I finally dug into some more of Michael Pollan's oustanding writing again this week. This time, in My Two Gardens, he paints a great picture that includes, among other things, a child's fascination with gardening; a father's disdain for lawn maintenence; a grandfather's passion for neatness, tidiness, orderliness and an utter disapproval of weeds and beards (which, somehow, go together); and the effects the passage of time has on both gardens and families. I'm currently not in a position to focus on gardening, so I think Pollan's accounts are giving me a vicarious thrill...

I'm Not The Center of The Universe

"We assume our personal preferences are the standard by which all art should be judged."

Once again, Scott Adams has delivered a thought-provoking post over on his Dilbert blog. I've noticed this phenomenon many times & in a variety of ways, and I've come to my own personal conclusion that it's rooted in that God-awful trait called selfishness. This characteristic goes way beyond our judgment of art, and touches so many other areas of our lives. No, the fact is, there are billions of other people in the world, and I'm not the star that the rest of the world revolves around. This is good to know...

In Case You Planned On Being Appreciated Today

I make time to read the Dilbert blog (see my Frogroll to the right for the link), and also click over from there frequently to the daily comic strip. The one above is actually from yesterday, and I like it so well I just had to link to it because I really connect with it in a number of ways. I don't work or do anything in life expecting appreciation, but every once in a while I'll think someone may appreciate my gesture just a little. Yeah, well, my "false hope" has been flattened more than once! Life is grand, I love every minute of it...and that's a true story.

Borat

Well, I finally did it. I gave in and watched this insane film some friends had recommended entitled Borat: Cultural Learnings of America For Make Benefit Glorious Nation Of Kazakhstan I don't know that I'll rate it as one of the funniest movies I've ever watched, but it certainly has it's moments. Two such moments I've found on youtube, and included them here:

1.) The opening plus some deleted scenes. Check out the clip at 4:09 into it to see the deleted scene of Borat in the grocery store being introduced to Cheese. Click here.

2.) The part of the movie where Borat meets "Mr. Jesus" at a Pentecostal church service, and speaks in tongues. Click here.

I've read where Sacha Baron Cohen got sued because of the frat boys scene, which is what provided the final motivation to watch the thing in the first place. I just had to see what the fuss was about.

*****UPDATE*****
Click here for a United Pentecostal Church International take on the comedic intentions of Sacha Baron Cohen in their church service.

"Canada Huh?...Almost Made It"

I was reminded of this movie today, so I decided to post about one of the greatest scenes in all of comedy movie history. It's the opening scene to Super Troopers, and you just haven't lived life to the fullest if you haven't watched it.

I've viewed this part of the movie time and time again, and for some reason, it never gets old...

Enough Of The %$*& Nonsense Already!

Okay, first off I need to say that this is not a vote of support for Don Imus. Perhaps I'm just not enough in-the-know when it comes to radio personalities not named Limbaugh or Stern (and I don't listen to either of them), but I don't recall ever hearing of this guy prior to the events I'm writing about today.

Last week Mr. Imus made some comments that really have pissed off a boatload of people. He called the basketball players from Rutgers women's team "nappy-headed hos". He's since offered to meet the team and offer another apology. In reference to this meeting, one of the players, Matee Ajavon said: "“I could say that we honestly don’t know what to expect from Don Imus and what we will plan on asking him is his reasons and how you could just say things that you have not put any thought to? Right now I can’t really say if we have come to a conclusion of whether we will accept the apology. What I can say I think this meeting will be crucial for us, the state of New Jersey and everybody representing us.” (Read the article here.) First of all, Matee, I should point out that these were comments made during an (apparantly) unscripted interview, in which case it's quite common to say things you haven't put a lot of thought into. Secondly, Matee, who among us says things we've completely thought out 100% of the time? I'd venture to say it's mighty close to none of us. From time to time we say things off the top of our head without thinking much about it. Does that make hurtful things excusable? No, of course not, just like it doesn't mean every cotton pickin' thing said is right. Sometimes we say hurtful, and incorrect things. So what? It's a part of our rights contained in the 1st Amendment..."freedom of speech".

Now, my biggest question is this: why is Don Imus being given such a hard time while, say 50 Cent & Snoop Dogg who "never hesitate to shoot a ho", Chingy who asks "got his money ho?", & Ludacris who proclaims "youza ho" on his hit song, "Ho", are selling records like there's no tomorrow, all the while offering up "ho's" and "nigga's" on nearly every track?

In all honesty, I (a white male), would pay money to hear any of these artists (all black men) sing, and I own albums by each and every one of them; and, it bears repeating, I don't listen to Don Imus (a white male) at all. But, is it okay for some to say "ho" while others should be castigated? Don't mind me, I'm just rapping out loud...

*****UPDATES*****
(Added 4-17-07)
Here's an interesting article from ESPN.com's Page 2, entitled Imus shouldn't give hip-hop a bad rap. Perhaps I've been corrected...

(Added 4-24-07)
I've been posting a lot lately from Scott Adams, but in his most recent Dilbert Blog post he offered an interesting take on the highlights of this story. I have to agree with him...

The Innocent Man

While on vacation a couple of weeks ago I finished John Grisham's latest book, The Innocent Man. I've read every book published by Grisham, in order, so I'm quite experienced with his writing style and ability. This is his first non-fiction legal thriller, and in my opinion it is a splendid read. If you like his novels (my fav is The Partner), then you'll certainly be entertained by this one that, though minus the wonders of created characters, is just as compelling and full of suspense.

In a related bit of news, I read this article yesterday about a man in Texas who is going to be exonerated because of DNA testing in his case. James Curtis Giles (not the evangelist, Jabel) is being helped by The Innocence Project which I first read about in the Grisham book.

With the rise of CSI and other crime-solving shows, the focus on forensic science is at an all time high. Crime scene investigation, though, is not fool-proof, and the ethics (good and bad) of the investigators seems to play a much larger role than what I ever considered. I always thought it was pretty cut and dried, but alas, once again, I was wrong...

*****UPDATE*****
4-23-07
Another Innocence Project victory, it seems. Click here.

"Keep Moving Forward"

Friday night I took my yahoo's to see the new Disney animated feature Meet The Robinsons, a retro-futuristic film, that, in my mind, was a little Back To The Future-esque. It's a thrill a minute going to see a film at the theater with my guys, and when we see something as action-packed and adventurous as this one, it's an even cooler experience, it seems. I'll give my thumbs-up to the film, even if it doesn't quite reach Toy Story or Shrek status. I was much pleased with both the animation and the story line. I have to make a soul-baring confession, though. The feel-good ending got me all choked up, and when the central theme and lesson of the movie, "keep moving forward", was revealed to be drawn from a quote by my new-found hero Walt Disney, I had tears in my eyes. The movie closes with this profoud quotation:

“Around here, however, we don’t look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things… and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.”–Walt Disney

I applaud the Disney desire to motivate and encourage us to reach forward and achieve great things...this is a beautiful motive. I'm elated to see that forty years after Walt Disney's death, his great company is carrying the torch he lit onward to a new generation of young people surrounded by their own struggles and difficulties. I'm about 60% of the way through Neil Gabler's biography of Walt, and I've read time and again how he overcame great obstacles and personal hardships to create this imagination factory we still recognize today as one of the greatest companies of all time. Knowing Walt Disney was a determined, hard-working, persistent individual, quotes like the one above have an even more profound impact.

The movie began, quite interestingly, with a short of Mickey, Donald & Pluto building a boat, entitled Boat Builders (Note: this hyperlink takes you to the page on bcdb.com, which is for the "Big Cartoon Database") I've been reading about the Disney shorts and the impact they had on the world of animation, and about Mickey and the impact he's had on the world, so although I've seen a boatload of the cartoons before, I'm watching now with a brand new enthusiasm.

Mickey specifically out of all of the Disney characters seems to be the most like Walt, what with his "pluck", aw-shucks persona and win-at-all-costs determination. Also found at the beginning of this latest Disney feature was a snapshot of Mickey in Steamboat Willie. As I was driving home the other night (we watched the late show, so it was after 11 p.m.), and my boys had dozed off, I began using my imagination a bit and wondering if there wasn't something to that interesting title, "Steamboat Willie". It was the first sound cartoon to gain widespread appeal, and thus was a pioneer in the world of animation. It was also early in the rise of Mickey as a national icon, and was enjoying great success when America was nearing the unprecidented financial crisis which was the Great Depression. In my mind's eye the other night, I quickly broke down the title and realized it was made up of all kinds of "keep moving forward" ideas.

1) "Steam..." I need not go into great detail, suffice it to say one of our more recognizable motivation phrases is "full-steam ahead".

2) "...boat..." Is there a stream, a wide-river, an ocean even in your way? No fear, build a boat and float across the depths until you reach your goal on the other side.

3) "...Will..." One dictionary defines "will" as "diligent purposefulness; determination". Cliche', yes, but I still love "where there's a will, there's a way".

4) "...i..." In a time where blaming others on our problems and dire circumstances is seemingly running rampant, it's quite important to realize that if we are to make it in life, we've got to depend on ourselves. There's a lot of power in having an "I can" attitude.

5) "...e" Finish it off with a little "e for effort", and we've got ourselves a veritable motivational address in two words that's enough to fuel the fulfilment of our dreams for the rest of our days.

In spite of failures, disappointments, setbacks, hardships, & difficulties...keep moving forward.

Cayman '07 Post 7

Yeah, it was hard to sleep Thursday night, knowing that it would be my last in paradise for a while. The windows were open, the constant and stiff ocean breeze filled the rooms with a pleasant ambiance, and should’ve been just the tonic for a perfect rest. Alas, my mind would have none of it, and was actively recalling every sandy step on the beach, every salty splash of the sea, every tingle of sunshine, and every smile and nod from my fellow countrymen and the locals throughout this past week. Driving away from the resort was done with a palpable content, realizing I’ve been afforded a most enjoyable excursion that isn’t enjoyed by everyone, and for that I’m very appreciative. One last trip along the coastal highway and my level of satisfaction rose to euphoric levels…once again, windows down, music up.
Check-in at the airport after dropping off the rental car was mostly smooth, if not just a smidgeon too long and involved. I was a bit miffed about having to pull out my passport 3 times for review prior to getting back to my terminal waiting area, but hey, that’s one of the prices of freedom and protection from terror, I presume. Or, perhaps more likely, it adds to my sense of security, whether I’m actually any more safe with all of these procedures is anyone’s guess.
My first golden moment of the day was when my youngest son blurted out “Big Black Dick” loudly in the food court area of the George Town airport. I glanced over, and sure enough, he was right. Right out in the open is a 7 foot statue (pic above) of some pirate named Big Black Dick, and there’s a variety of rums that bear his name. I’d forgotten about him…my God, stop already!
A little later my 2nd “oh yeah!” moment happened, in the duty-free liquor store called “Bodden Freeport”. I walked in, and the attendant was an oriental chick. What got me was what was playing on her radio: Eric Church’s song Guys Like Me! He’s one of my fav modern country artists, and that song specifically I like to think I identify with (minus the “best blue jeans have Skoal rings” part-I’m not that tough, it seems…) I came out to my waiting spot and pulled out my DJ and plugged in the album Sinner Like Me, my first listen of this one all week long. I swiftly determined it’s a perfect soundtrack for my pre-flight home to the good ol’ Midwest of the the U.S.A. Yip, you can take the boy outta the country, but you can’t take the country outta the boy! (Man, was that cliché or what?...)
Oh, my…after going through all of the international travel procedures, we finally made it back to American soil not a moment too soon. A brief encounter with the drug-sniffing beagle (relax, by encounter I don’t mean getting caught) at Tampa caused us much amusement. I guess I expected all security dogs were supposed to look menacing, but alas, there is a job for the apparently harmless ones, too. The airport there is much roomier and modernized, with loads and loads of things to do to occupy the tedium of a layover. I had just pulled out my computer and said to myself something about there needing to be free wi-fi in places like that when, true story, I heard the tinny voice over the intercom say it was offered. I quickly jumped online and goofed off a bit…and listened to some more Eric Church.
The last leg of out return trip was fine, except the plane leaked, the furnace was stuck in the off position, and there were no free peanuts. But we made it home safely, and the trip was enjoyed by all...(Note: the pic above is from Rum Point, one of our fav haunts on our journey.)

Cayman '07 Post 6

Exhaustion...sun-wearied (and a little burned)...missin' the ones we love...yep, it's pretty obvious the vacation is almost over, as the signs are becoming obvious. Our stingray excursion was indeed cancelled today, and we found out the catamaran will resume visits out there tomorrow at 9 a.m., at which time we'll already be on our way to catch our flight back to America. Oh well, spirits are still very high all around, these aforementioned challenges notwithstanding. I've asked my boys at least a dozen times today I guess if they were still having a good time, and if they're glad they came, to which they both answered in the affirmative with much enthusiasm each time. We headed to Rum Point again, this time taking advantage of the beautiful sunshine to spend some time on the beach up there. We worked on sandcastles, ate lunch, chilled in a hammock and even scouted a couple hundred feet out into the sea (by far our furthest such adventure of the week). The drive back (about 30 minutes) was another good time of sea-side, wrong side of the road driving with the windows down and the tunes' volume up. We've heard a lot of Justin Timberlake down here, and my yahoo's are picking up quite a liking for him. His latest single (though I haven't heard it on the states radios yet) is Summer Love, a song I immediately started to dig when I got the Future Sex/ Love Sounds album a few months back, has been on frequent rotation here. I predicted to a couple of friends when I first heard it that it would be a big hit, probably hitting number 1 about summertime. Well, here's my chance to see if everyone else likes it as much as me. I noticed it's not in the Top 40 yet, but I see that two others from the album are this week, My Love (22) & What Goes Around (2). While I'm on the subject I might as well give a plug: go buy this album, it's awesome.

After getting back we chilled a while and then went down to the pool area and wound up playing shuffleboard (which is right next to the easternmost pool) for an hour or so. We then ventured down the beach to the neighboring resort so the boys could try to find their friends from Illinois, Tim & Tom, who played b-ball with us the other night, but to no avail. We then took a quick drive for soft drinks and snacks to the local gas station, and looked around at some of the side streets a bit. We noticed that although there is plenty of opulence and grandeur along the coast line with the resorts and mansions, there is also plenty of the squalid variety of living quarters as well. I doubt there's much of a middle class here...ya either got it or ya don't, it seems! On the way back, as we we're pulling into the resort's parking lot the radio began playing Daughtry's Home, and I was thus afforded a golden opportunity to show my boys how music can run parallel to life so closely sometimes. I think they'll think of our little conversation everytime they hear that terrific song from here out. By the way, it really is a great song, even when you're not watching Idol.

To wrap up the night we went back out to the beach, lounged back on the beach chair's and looked at the stars. We quickly found the big dipper and the North Star, and then my boys dazzled me with the story of love lost but not forgotten concerning Orion. I was quite impressed as they showed my Orion's Belt and told me all the details they knew...it was enchanting. After an hour and half or so out there we came back in and started packing for the travel day we have tomorrow.

So, as I wind down for the last night of sleep in paradise, I'm wrapping up my thoughts with the proverbial "bittersweet" emotions. I'm sad it's all gone so fast; I'm terribly gloomy over the fact that I'll not be able to spend time with my boys like this for some time; on the flip side, though, I'm very thankful for the opportunity that I've had, and I think I've got my batteries recharged and am ready to hit the ground running when I get back home; also, I'm thrilled at the thought of seeing the ones I love again and getting back in the groove with all my friends and family and know that I'll have a blast telling them all about our trip. I know one thing is for sure: I have no regrets for the place we chose to spend Spring Break this year, and I'm determined to work as hard as possible to ensure it's not a one-time experience. To keep my spirit's up upon arriving back home I'll make sure I spend a lot of time at Cheeseburger In Paradise and not a few hours watching the Pirates of the Caribbean series, both experiences with a lot of Cayman memories...

Cayman '07 Post 5

We saw a shirt earlier in the week that said something like: "The pirate alphabet begins with Arrrrrrrrrrrrrr". Well, today was pirate-y from start to finish, and I think my yahoo's loved it. The day started with "Pirates of the Caribbean" day at the Kids Club at the resort. The boys joined the expedition today from 8 till noon and spent their time searching for treasure and making pirate crafts and such. I used the time alone to do my favorite oceanic activity...walking the beach jammin' to some tunes on my DJ. An interesting thought crossed through my noodle while strolling along the edge of the sea. I wonder if everyone else is like me when they have headphones on, and feel like they are in a music video. As I pass people sometimes I think I look at them like they can hear the music that's in my head. They probably think I'm nuts, and sometimes I think I agree. Anyway, I chose Kenny Chesney's "Be Here (Songs From An Old Blue Chair)" to get me started. Call me crazy, but I've waited the entire trip to plug this in and listen to it straight through when I was by myself. It's quite the introspective album, and I just knew I'd like to be able to let it soak in while I was focused. A chick from Minnesota I talked to 1 or 5 times this week called it "thinking your own thoughts" when she was giving her goodbye today before she flew back with her fam to the frozen north. I couldn't agree more, and that's exactly what I do when I'm out on the sand: I narrow it all down to and have a meeting with my own mind, and try to get things settled. Few people know it, but it was on the beach in Ft. Myers, FL, all alone a few years ago when I first made the decision to make some huge changes in my life...and I don't regret the counsel I got from the crashing waves. I don't believe I made any earth-shattering decisions today, but I did enjoy the time to chill a bit. I moved on from the KC album and it's focus on introspection and found myself listening to one of the greatest "couple" albums of all time, Darren Hayes' "Spin". Sweet and lover-focused, I've listened to it at least 4 times since I've been on holiday, and it affects me every time. He's a terrific singer, but it's the lyrics and subject matter that carry this album beyond just an entertaining listen. It's def a fav of mine...

Moving on, we left after the Kids Club outing and headed to Geore Town to pay a visit to the Jolly Roger, a pirate themed ship on which we rode out a ways into the Caribbean and enjoyed pirate antics. The pic above is of us trying to get on our sea legs and keep from falling overboard into Davy Jones' locker. Since I'm writing this, we evidently made it...or did we? Sorry, that was weird. The whole adventure was fun, and the boys fo' sho' enjoyed being able to jumb off the side of the ship into the warm sea water.

After returning to land we were powerful hungry, so us scurvy dogs piled into a corner booth at the Hard Rock Cafe, Cayman Islands. We enjoyed the fare and atmosphere, then headed back on the coastal highway trip to the resort. After a short stint at the hot tub, it soon became time for us to get our weary bones back to the room and prep for the nightly crash. Our day tomorrow was supposed to be our exciting trip to Stingray City, but the wind has made for some extremely rough seas this week, and on the radio we heard of an "incident" with a stingray and a profusion of jellyfish in the water, so, um, yeah...that trip has been cancelled. Not by me, but by the coastal authorities, so I guess we'll have to try that again next time. So, I guess we'll just have to spend our last day on the beach. Arrgggghhhhh;)