Confessional

It's puzzling that its been quite some time since I've last blogged.  While blogging can be bit of a white whale for me it's also a treat because it is...cathartic.  Unlike Facebook, it's uncluttered and raw.  Also, it's more robust than Twitter, a medium I loathe.  I mean seriously... nothing worth saying should be said or confined within 140 characters and worse, so much weight is giving to these random, half-baked, malformed fucking tweets.  I really feel like humanity should be embarrassed by this.  Ok, whoo-sah.

Anyway, I find that I stick to the anecdotal on Facebook partly because most things on there trend that way but also because I'm kind of a private person.  I think blogging offers people a release valve for all the things you absorb in your day to day life much like a diary would.  I have lots of friends but I don't have them over very much (and they rarely accept when I do offer anyway.).  I have a loving family but I don't inundate them with specific details about my life anymore and this is probably because I don't like to be judged which is something family is notorious for.  I just stick to the high points and hope to create new memories for 'remember when' sessions later.  I know that at some point this bothered my father.  However my mother, who I haven't lived with in almost 30 years but maintain a loving relationship with, could care less and I'm cool with that.  And I have no mate to bounce ideas off of either so private can morph into downright reclusiveness at times.  So, in short, I keep people at arms length.  Maybe by sharing my thoughts, I can bring them in closer.

I should do this more often and I've resolved that I will.  I am a pretty good photographer and I will also put my work here.  It's as much a part of me as my thoughts.  I've seen a lot and I realize that I've already lived half of my life.  Maybe I shouldn't hide who I am from the world anymore.

I feel better already.

Take my hand

You know I'll be there

If you can

I'll cross the sky for your love

For I have promised

Oh, to be with you tonight

And for the time that will come

Take my hand

You know I'll be there

If you can

I'll cross the sky for your love

And I understand

These winds and tides

This change of times

Won't drag you away

Hold on, and hold on tightly

Hold on, and don't let go of my love

The storms will pass (the storm will pass)

It won't be long now (it won't be long now)

His love will last

His love will last, forever

Take my hand

You know I'll be there

If you can

I'll cross the sky for your love

Give you what I hold dear

Hold on, hold on tightly

Hold on, hold on tightly

Rise up, rise up

With wings like eagles

You run, you run

You run and not grow weary

Hold on, and hold on tightly

Hold on, hold on tightly

To this love, (this love, this love) last forever

To this love, (this love, this love) last forever

Take my hand

Take my hand

Drowning Man -- U2

I cleave the heavens and soar to the infinite.

And while I rise from my own globe to others

And penetrate ever further through the eternal field,

That which others saw from afar, I leave far behind me.

Giordano Bruno - 1584

Wheels up...

Hello Montreal

The Ballerina

Right after I shave?

Reflections on a mote of dust.

Earth (blue speck in the brown band on right) as seen from Voyager 1 from 6 billion km away.  1990

"From this distant vantage point, the Earth might not seem of any particular interest. But for us, it's different. Look again at that dot. That's here, that's home, that's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there – on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known."

~Carl Sagan

A good year indeed.

2010 was a good year.  After a misfire in FL I decided to move to NC and it turned out to be a wise decision.  I obtained a new job where I had a chance to shine as a leader by example and they promoted me after just 7 months!  A new city that I like a lot.  (I can't understand the fascination with hush puppies though.)  I have new friends who make a concerted effort to stick together and support one another.  And boy do they party.  Never a dull moment with this group.


This year I finally made it to Chicago.  I took my dad and had a great time.  We've decided to start making this an annual father/son thing.  Boston in 2011.  I also began volunteering with a local community outreach program mainly at the food bank.  After being away for over 2 years, I finally made it back to Cincinnati to see my friends in September.  I try to always look forward but I can't help but have a hole in my heart for Cincy.  I became a man there and for 13 years called it home.  I don't regret leaving but I miss it badly at times.  Especially my best friend.

On a darker note, last year I developed a really bad Facebook addiction that will undoubtedly require an intervention.  You know its bad when you come into work and the first thing you log into is Facebook.


Overall, I obtained the one thing I coveted for so long and took for granted when I had it many years ago...normalcy.  No more different city every week; no more searching for the life I should have.  I'm in a position to make the life I want and I couldn't be happier.  I've always been ambivalent about the years past but not this time.  2010 was a good year indeed.

Cincinnati

It was a beautiful day today in Charlotte but all I could think about was the other QC...Cincinnati. I miss my friends, hanging on The Hill, NsT, hoopin' with the fellas, or just laying in the grass in Mt. Storm trying to feel the world turn. I never said goodbye and that weighed heavy on me. I need to get back and tell my people how much I've missed them.

62 miles to the next rest stop

I knew it would be a while before I was able to post something again but I've had some time to take a breath and reflect on the last 18 months.

After a tumultuous year (2009) in Florida, I finally decided to let it go.  I thought I would be there for a good, long time but it wasn't meant to be due in-part to bad timing (a crappy economy) and my inability to assimilate into the culture.  Had it been one or the other I probably would have tried to persevere but I'm too restless to be complacent; I let too many good years go by in Ohio to make that same mistake again.

Earlier this year I made the move to North Carolina and it felt right.  It still does.  My experience has been positive and I'm having fun again.  All of a sudden each day is a blank canvas to fill which I haven't had in a while and I'm far more craftier than I used to be.

I'm growing comfortable in this leg of the trip.  Time to dig in and make good time.

Should five percent appear too small, be thankful I don't take it all...

Well, we've gone and done it.  Healthcare reform has begun and we won't look back.  For better or worse, that train is rolling.  Now that legislation has finally passed on that issue, what will our cavalier government do next to better serve the people?  My vote: fix the ridiculously circuitous tax code.

Recently, Jonathan Kern wrote an article for All Things Considered on NPR that brought into focus a little bumblebee that's been buzzing around in the back of my mind.  The premise of the article states that our acceptance of software used to file taxes averts our focus away from the fact that the US personal tax code is ridiculously complicated.  The article can be read and listened to here.

As you might suspect, this hit a little close to home.  For most of my professional life I was someone's employee working under a W-2.  I never knew how good I had it.  In 2009 I was offered a chance to work as an independent contractor under a 1099-MISC.  The benefit for me was the ability to control my work schedule, earn more money and pay less taxes (or so I thought).  My clients benefitted by not having to pay FICA, various insurances, and business taxes on my behalf if I were their employee.  It seemed like an ideal situation...until 'Uncle Sam' got involved.  Even researching the self-employment tax thoroughly didn't uncover the hidden hitch in the tax code.  I didn't realize what I had gotten myself into until it came time to file.

I've been gainfully employed for over 17 years and only once have my taxes been completed by a tax professional.  In the early days, I literally would do my taxes by hand.  Longform.  It wasn't until the late 1990's that I started using tax software.  (I've never been audited.)  Even the early tax software was cumbersome but I managed.  During the US governments' Age of Decadence the tax code became more and more labyrinthian as they needed to squeeze more and more dollars from John Q. Public.  Like a lot of other Americans, I relied on tax software more and more.

Present day, the software is telling me I owe 4,000 more dollars than I have calculated.  My math has never been that bad.  The self-employment tax is designed so that you do not have to pay the employers half of the FICA (Federal tax and social security) BUT, what they don't tell you is that you will be taxed twice on the amount earned under the 1099.  You will have to pay the personal income tax on that amount and then pay the self-employment tax on the same amount.  I was devastated.  The only way around this is to become an S-Corp which essentially is a tax shelter.  You would had to have set this up before you starting earning under a 1099.

At first I felt bamboozled, led astray, but at the end of the day I had no one to blame but myself.  Maybe if I had gone one step further and consulted a tax professional in the beginning I would have avoided this trap.  I consulted the worst possible source for the self-employment tax...the IRS publications website.  Also, they were vague about having to pay those taxes quarterly or suffer a penalty.  Although that penalty is minor, about 2%, it could be avoided.

In the end, I consulted a tax professional to at least get the tax owed down through additional deductions but the best I could do was still miles from where I expected to be.  The minute she heard my issue she sighed and shook her head.  In short, she said I had been setup.  She's sees a dozen people a week during tax season who were lead into this trap.  Like students who are roped into internships that don't pay or teach them anything in the hopes that they may land an actual job there someday.  All they did was give the company free labor.  The devastating truth is, universities and corporations are in cahoots.

I had always believed that we needed a simpler tax code but only through education on the subject did I realize just how deceptive it is.  All along I had been drinking the Kool-Aid because the tax software made it taste so good.

Moving

It sucks.  That is all.

 

All these worlds are yours except...

A Pleasant Surprise for a Card-Carrying Cynic

About 4 years ago a good friend of mine whom I'll call "T" (I have this habit of protecting identities when they don't have access to the material in which they are mentioned) asked me if I would be the Godfather of her two daughters.  We certainly were very close and I wasn't surprised by the request however, it gave me pause.  I'm not religious about anything and I felt that maybe I didn't meet the criteria.

First a little background:  She, like me, was a native New Yorker and carried some of the cynicism you cultivate from running the streets and seeing the true nature of man on display but, she was always the kindest person you would ever want to meet.  At that point we had known each other about 15 years and in all of our great conversations, we had never touched on God or religion.  Eventually, I left for the midwest and she left for a dream detail with her employer in the Caribbean.  The years passed and we maintained our friendship.  Before long there was a wedding and then a daughter, then another.

And now I had a decision to make.  For some, it's an easy one but, I wanted to take this seriously.  Is there shame to be had for a non-believer to accept this responsibility?  Would I feel like a fraud?  Would I be making a mockery of this ceremony?  It was probably all in my mind but a part of me felt it would be hypocritical for me to blindly accept.  I'm no big fan of religion although I would probably be in big trouble if they organized one that centered on sleeping or food.

So, I asked her if I could think about it and a day or two later we discussed it again.  For "T" it wasn't about the religious aspect but what I meant to her and the kids and that certainly put me at ease.  She trusted me to give the girls guidance and protection when needed and that was enough for her.  It was enough for me too.  I should note that their father sets a good example for them.  He's engaged in every aspect of their lives and works hard to provide for his family.  My role is one on the periphery but you never know when you will be called into service.

We had a wonderful time at the Christening of their oldest daughter and a year and half later, we are at the Christening of their second daughter.  I felt as though I should do something special for the girls that would fit in the moment so, I decided to purchase two very sturdy leather bound bibles: one black, one white.  For each girl I handwrote a letter on the first blank page of each respective bible.  I can't remember the exact words but I tried to convey how thankful we all were that they were in our lives and what the times were like.  How much they reminded me of their mother at even such a young age.  I wanted them to know that they could rely on me for anything, anytime, forever.  It was incentive enough for me to live the right kind of life knowing that these young ladies could need me at any time.  I took an oath and I had to be prepared for just such an occasion.

I had expected that the bibles would be kept in a safe place and possibly never used and that was ok.  The family had about 5 bibles of various types in their household and could acquire a few more in their lifetime I suppose.  However, yesterday I called "T" and she told me that the black bible (given to her oldest daughter) is missing.  They haven't changed residences.  I'm like, "Who would steal a bible?!  And out of your house at that?".  What she told me caught me off guard.  The girls carried their bibles with them to church and to bible study every week.  The oldest appears to have misplaced hers but they live on a island and its personalized so it can't be far.  My hope is that it will turn up soon.  If not, I will be more than happy to replace it with warm sentiments.

They carry their bibles with them every week.  Who knew?  The youngest can't even read yet.  No sooner than they learn to read, they will read the words of promise and love that I tried to convey.  A pleasant surprise indeed.

Flying the Friendly Skies

This week, film director Kevin Smith was asked to de-plane a Southwest flight due to his size. The cabin crew made a determinaton that he needed two seats and since there were no side-by-side empty seats available he had no choice but to get off.

The policy of forcing larger people to purchase two seats due to their size is not a new one. Southwest has incorporated a "customer of size policy" for 25 years under the guise that it is a safety issue despite the fact that most airlines will give you a seat belt extender if you ask for one.

As someone who flies in the US roughly 46 weeks a year I can tell you that I barely fit in coach seating and I'm of average height and build. Airplane cabins appear to be getting smaller and smaller.

Now, some airlines are placing boxes under seats for wi-fi, safety equipment, and power recepticles. Along with increasing fees for checking luggage, this has caused a baggage nightmare on most flights. Even if you are the first person on the plane you only have a 50-50 chance of being able to fit your carry-on under the seat in front of you. If you are one of the last people to board then you face that dilemma combined with the lack of overhead space leaving you no choice but to check your carry-on luggage which may contain fragile items.

This of course always leads to a confrontation with the obnoxious, overzealous baggage-bin clod. You know, that guy who gets on late and thinks he's the alpha-traveler. He's gonna open the bin over his row, remove your bag and put his briefcase and blazer in then, take your bag and move it two rows down and cram it into an already-full bin. I loathe that guy. I wait until after we take off and I unpack his bin under the pretense that I was looking for my stuff and then I realize its not in there anymore. Oops. I'll just fold your blazer into an origami swan and jam it in-between this Samsonite and the bulkhead...

Ok, I don't really do that.  If his luggage comes open when he removes it from the bin, that wasn't me either.  ;-)

A good healthy dose of cynicism never hurt anybody. Right?

I acknowledge that I am cynical and sometimes it's funny and sometimes it's mildly annoying (this is a self-assessment). I'm trying hard not to be this way particularly in my blogs because I want to be clear and concise and not muddle the text with unnecessary emotional nuances but as I'm fond of saying, "I like to complain.".

Recently, Conan O'Brien talked about cynicism in his final monologue and I actually felt like he was talking directly to me.  It was one of those "get out of my head" moments.  Here's what he said:

"All I ask of you, especially young people...is one thing. Please don't be cynical," O'Brien said. "I hate cynicism -- it's my least favorite quality and it doesn't lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen. I'm telling you, amazing things will happen."

For a split-second I felt bad but then I came to my senses.  It may be that Conan never mastered the Art of Cynicism.  Or, maybe I should just stop watching TV.

My periodic lack of faith in humanity has produced some gems like...


On a more serious note, I find it tragicomical that there was an earthquake in Haiti and we pledged (and spent) millions to save the Haitians which is fine except the American military has laid waste to one of our own territories (Vieques) and we haven't done anything to help the US citizens who live there.  The number of people with cancer on this small island off the coast of Puerto Rico is staggering and the "mainland" and mainstream has all but turned a blind eye.  Anyone who cared left when the US Navy did.  Read the story on CNN here.  

I know, I know.  So much injustice in the world.  I definitely need to stop watching TV.

Showerheads

As a business traveler I spend a lot of time in hotels, particularly ones that share the name of a rather flighty celebrity.  I've found that I can sleep in most, if not all, beds but it's the showerheads that have become a source of ire.

Let there be no ambiguity: there is no such thing as a massaging shower head, only broken ones.

I've listed the 3 most common types:

1. Pins and Needles - This is the nozzle setting that feels like Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, is clawing your back mercilessly.  Of course, the showerhead is broken and only this setting is available.

2. The Dribbling Sunflower - This is when water is shooting out the back of the showerhead and what comes out the front is a weak stream of lukewarm water forcing you to huddle under its light trickle.

3. ...and my personal favorite: Shoot-You-In-The-Eye-Shoot-You-In-The-Nuts - This sadistic showerhead setting keeps you on your feet by shooting a rapid, alternating stream of water in your left eye and then your crotch and then your left eye. Who thought this was theraputic?

I like to complain.

Neglect

How could something so important fall by the wayside? How I could I neglect something that has been so wonderful to me? Are there so few hours in the day, so few days in a week that I can't dedicate just a small amount of time to it?

Of course, I'm talking about blogging.

I was relatively late to blogging but I find it so much fun. And I like to think that I actually have things to blog about. For example, due to business travel all over the US, I have accrued a handful of funny stories (along with a ton of photos) and met a bunch of really cool people. In truth, it's been both a blessing and a curse. It giveth and it taketh away. I haven't cycled or worked out in months (or blogged for that matter). I've been sharing a condo in Florida for the last couple of months as well and I haven't been able to make the space I occupy mine. It's of course, my own fault. I went off the grid and went "temporal" in my haste to chase my hopes and dreams.

Of course, I didn't know what those hopes and dreams were but I think I have a better idea now. I like the Great Unknown. Not necessarily adventure but forward progress from self-reliance. Complacency scares the hell out of me but I have to find a balance and set down some roots without becoming furniture.

The first step is to get back to the things I love. Get back to things that are rewarding. Like blogging.

Hypocrisy and Steroids in Baseball

Today, it was revealed that New York Yankee third baseman Alex Rodriguez tested positive for steroids in 2003. To some, this comes as no surprise but, ardent followers of the Yankees and/or A-Rod like myself may be a bit shocked. He has long been anointed as the "chosen one". He who would break all of baseball's hallowed hitting records and live to enjoy the accolades. Over the years he adamantly denied ever using any performance enhancing drugs and without proof to the contrary, we were inclined to believe him. Now, he will become the poster-child for all that is wrong in Major League Baseball. He will be branded a cheater, liar, and a fraud.

My problem with this branding is the hypocrisy that comes with it.

What has always been my argument in this epidemic of steroids in baseball is that everyone involved was complicit. Right down to the bat boys. I take special umbrage with the team owners who have never been called to the mat for their involvement with steroids in baseball. Along with league executives themselves, these were your enablers. For lack of a better analogy, let's say something you've invested in or someone you care about needs guidance or needs to be protected from outside influences whether it's alcohol or drugs. It could also be something as simple as food; we all know what its like to over-indulge. When the players actually needed the owners the most, they turned a blind-eye. For obvious reasons of course but, I will get to that later. Barry Bonds, yesterday's poster-child, would have his steroids dealer in the locker room under the guise of being a personal trainer. If I'm the owner of the San Francisco Giants, wouldn't I like to know who's in my locker room talking to my players? In the wake of the Pete Rose scandal, wouldn't it prudent to know if you had a bookie in the house? You have a player who has his own personal training staff and hats and shoes that are 3 sizes larger than when he arrived there 2 years before. Of course owners will say: "We didn't know.". And, of course, I don't believe them. Owners had a chance to protect their employees and the game and they whiffed.

Baseball was the first thing I ever fell in love with that wasn't related to me by DNA. However, I felt like the sport had changed when they expanded in 1993. The league was being infiltrated by businessmen and marketing people who had no vested interest in the sanctity of the game. It ceased being a sport for fathers and sons and simply became a business to be observed. Maybe it was always like that and I was the one who changed. It seems like the only thing that matters is that the stadiums are packed at all costs but what's left is just rhetoric. Shortly after expansion, we saw a boom in statistics that had everyone scratching their chins but happy to be present during such a historical time. From time to time, MLB has "tweaked" the game to suit its needs whether it was strategically moving in fences or using tighter baseball's but, the benefits from rampant steroid use required almost no effort on the part of the owners or league executives and their judgement became clouded. They knew chicks dug the long ball and their profit margins began to hinge on it. Owners were making (unsuccessful) all-star squads only to have a fire-sale the very next year due to lack of cash flow to sustain ever growing contracts. The idea was that if they could put bodies in all 48,000 seats of their new stadiums regularly, they could afford to field a good team (albeit a team of performance-enhanced supermen). It was the chicken and the egg. We need good players to get fans to show up so we can then pay those good players to stay so we can get more fans to show up. But once word got out that players were juicing, MLB was left with egg all over its face.

And what about the players? I don't give them blanket amnesty. Individuals felt they needed a competitive edge to obtain lucrative contracts and would obtain both at any cost. So they drank the Kool-Aid. Alex Rodriguez, apparently, is no exception. If these players did something illegal then they should be punished.



The feds can parade all the players they want in front of commissions and cameras but, until the team owners and the league itself acknowledge their part in this farce and forfeit all the revenue they obtained from it in the form of steroids education, I will hold them just as responsible. The league and the owners need to be on trial, not individual players. That only serves to make this issue linger. Owners fostered a competitive environment and then capitalized on the weaknesses of the players to push their agenda only to sell them out when the proverbial poop hit the fan. What happened to the game I fell in love with?

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Do you think your boss would fire you for using performance-enhancing drugs?