The Blessings

My secretary was not the brightest crayon in the box. I was out with a client most of the day. Upon my return to the office I asked if anything was going on. Her common answer was; “A little of this, and a little of that.” I went into my office and began sorting through my phone messages. After about 15 minutes, my private line rang. It was my wife. She asked why I had not returned her earlier call. I explained that I had just returned to the office and hadn’t seen it. She went on to say, that she had called about 30 minutes ago, and really needed me to come home. She had left that message with my soon to be unemployed secretary. (This was pre-cell phone days.) It seems that she had sneezed, and her water broke. The twins were on their way. Without discussing her future, I informed my secretary that I was leaving to take my wife to the hospital…

Just a few months before we had been surprised to find out that we were expecting twins. From the time we first discussed marriage, we had debated; she wanted four children. I wanted one. On a cold December afternoon in 1983, we found out that God had other plans. The ultra-sound technician showed us the baby’s head, and "the other baby’s head". I don’t remember much else about that afternoon. I know that we had driven separately, and ended up forgetting one of the cars at the hospital.

Now it was March 22, 1984. The babies weren’t due for at least another month. Robin hadn’t been able to breath or move well for a few weeks, so the early delivery wasn’t a surprise, but it was a concern.

Stefanie came out first. Evidently she had broken her water. Most likely in an attempt to get away from her brother who was next in line. Stef looked like a small but full term baby. She had good color. Tim…he looked really premature. His skin was still kind of transparent. So it was really surprising when all of a sudden there was a commotion around Stefanie…she had stopped breathing. After a few scary moments, she started breathing on her own again, and my attention turned back to Tim. The doctor indicated that while Stef was a month premature, Tim was 2 months premature. Robin never heard him say that…it was four years later that she finally asked the doctor and he confirmed what I had been telling he all along.

They came home when both were over 4 pounds. It took them a long time to eat. Since they both ate at different times,I don’t think we slept for the first three months. After that, raising them was no different than raising single birth children. Just more expensive, and with no breaks!

Tim is about 6’ and around 210 lbs. Stef is 5’3”. If they are seated next to each other you can see the resemblance. Standing however, there is an obvious difference. Their personalities are vastly different as well.

When we found out we were having twins, we wondered if we were going to be able to cope. We wondered if we could be good parents to multiple children. We were kind of scared. I remember our friend Phyllis from church telling us that God chose us to be parents of twins because he knew we could handle it. She told us we were blessed.

Tim is spending his birthday at work. I am sure he will celebrate like most new 21 year olds celebrate. (Be careful T…) Stef is celebrating in Vegas…(Be really careful Stef…)

We’re really proud of both of them. The last 21 years went way too fast.

Phyllis passed away a few years ago. She was however right on. We were blessed.

Happy Birthday Tim and Stef.

Perfect

You never know what to expect on a domestic violence call, or what might jump off. We rolled up in front of a house that was worth somewhere around half a mil. There was a Hummer in the drive and a BIG BMW in the garage. The house was decorated beautifully, and nothing was out of place…except the residents. The husband was threatening to beat his wife to death. She called 911 from a downstairs bathroom, while he retreated to the upstairs bedroom to feign innocence. Their 20-year old son, sat on the couch indifferently watching “Gladiator” on TBS.

Outside the house, the neighborhood probably thought these folks had it all together. Beautiful home, nice cars, good looking people… who wouldn’t want their perfect life?

At the end of the shift, he was in jail. She was filing her formal complaint.

I drove home in my 3-year old Impala, parked in the garage of my still mortgaged home, and gave thanks for my perfect wife, my perfect kids, and my perfect life.

What a difference a day makes... or does it?

Two of our kids are turning 21 years old this week. ( Yes, twins. More about that in a later post )

On Sunday ( yesterday ) we planned on having a birthday celebration dinner with them. Our family tradition is of course to have them plan the menu. Since they are twins, they split the decision. One was to choose the type of cake, the other was to choose the entrée’.

Tim chose the cake; banana with chocolate icing. He made that decision very quickly. Stef spent several days choosing the entrée’ It went from grilled hot dogs, to Chicken Cordon’ Bleu. In the 11th hour it became chicken fingers, asparagus, and cheesy potatoes.

That’s 21 years old. It is neither hot dogs, or Chicken Cordon’ Bleu. It ends up being chicken fingers and cheesy potatoes; Too old to be allowed “childish” errors, yet too young to always make the right decisions.

Yesterday, you couldn’t legally consume an alcoholic drink without dire consequence because you weren’t old enough to be responsible. Today you are totally responsible.

What an amazing 24 hours.

St. Patrick is rolling in his grave...

I find it fascinating that for 364 days a year, the media, and most governmental officials spend volumes of time and countless dollars discouraging excessive drinking. Then on March 17, those same individuals are on TV/Radio joining in the excessive drinking that occurs on this day.

A day that is supposed to be a religious celebration of the introduction of Christianity to Ireland. How did this become a day where it is OK to be a drunken ass?

"The man who came in with a cold...

I went to a trade show on Weds. of this week. Hundreds of people crammed into too small a space, pretending to be nice to each other in order to get business. Everybody shaking hands and passing out materials and logo emblazoned trinkets.

All I got out of it was a cold.

Oh "Deer"...

There has been an uproar lately in the local media about the City of Solon, Ohio, and their “deer culling” program. Like most cities in N.E. Ohio, the area is overrun with an uncontrolled deer population. Across the area there are literally thousands of car vs deer accidents occurring each year. Some local governments are attempting to correct a problem that they created years ago when they banned deer hunting, and allowed developers to build homes and businesses on every square inch of available land. Now the deer have no where to go except grandmas garden and I-271. So the city fathers of Solon and other ‘burbs” have decided to hire sharp-shooters to cull the deer population.

I don’t have a problem with this. I do have a problem with the morons who are interviewed on the local news whining about how cruel it is to shoot the deer. They bemoan their fears of their children being mistaken for deer and shot to death in their beds by the hired guns. They cry in fear for their horses that might also be mistaken for deer. After all, the sharpshooters are just bloodthirsty cave dwellers who only want to pull the trigger. They have no intelligence or ability to distinguish deer from any other warm target.

Give me a break. I could only hope that the sharpshooters might take aim on a couple of these idiots who are also the first to complain when the deer run out in front of them on the road, or destroy their flower beds, or jump through their front windows.

Don’t get me wrong, I think deer are beautiful. I love to watch them feeding in the fields. It is still a thrill to see them crossing through my yard, or playing with each other in a meadow. I’m not a hunter. I don’t know if I could pull the trigger on one. But I see the need to “cull the herd” because overpopulation can be dangerous to humans and to the deer themselves.

Now, we go to Independence, Ohio…that city is attempting to prosecute a man for feeding the deer. It seems that Independence has a law against “putting out animal feed in proximity to private property”. His neighbors have complained so he faces criminal charges.

The bottom line is there is no bottom line…shoot them, don’t feed them, don’t hit them with cars, or don’t shoot them, keep feeding them, hit them with cars. Keep cutting down the trees, paving the meadows, and building homes where the deer used to live, or stop taking their homes. Man has created quite a conundrum. ( I love that word, and I’m glad I finally found a forum in which to use it.)

I do have a solution to give us some relief from the topic… Let’s enact legislation making it a felony for any media type to interview anyone else from Solon.

All the news, that's fit to ignore..

Well, here we go again…the TV News reported last night, that there is a serious potential danger that your cell phone might blow up. Of course by the time the story was over, they revealed that there have only been 115 instances in the last three years nationwide. Of course each of those instances had to do with mitigating circumstances, like the user shorting out the battery connections, a faulty charger shorting out, or the user leaving the phone on the stove. Of course, the news reporters conducted their own tests. They were able to cause several cell phones to short out. Oh, did I mention that this was only after they removed the safeguards from the battery, placed it on a hot stove, or purposely shorted out the battery terminals.

What is going on with TV News and the cell phone industry? First it was unfounded accusations that using cell phones would cause brain damage. When that didn’t work the media attempted to create a panic insinuating that cell phone usage is a leading cause of traffic crashes. That has petered out, so now they want you to believe that your cell phone might explode for no apparent reason.

I may be oversimplifying things, but I tend to look at the world through my own experiences…

I have been using cell phones since their inception in the early 80’s. I have never had an accident because of my cell phone. You might disagree, but I have not yet suffered any brain damage. My cell phone has never spontaneously combusted.

I don’t know anyone with brain damage from cell phone use. I know plenty of people with “brain damage” from watching TV News. In 14 years of experience ( although limited ) in law enforcement, I have NEVER worked an accident scene where the cause was attributed to cell phone use. I don’t know anyone who has been in an accident because they were on their cell phone. I do know people who have had accidents because they were applying make-up, changing a CD, reading the paper, or just driving with their head up their butts. I don’t know anyone who has had their phone catch on fire, or explode.

Part of me wishes that cell phones could easily explode. In fact, I wish there were a trigger mechanism that I could control remotely…Because I happen to know that virtually every TV News Reporter carries a cell phone…

Loyalty

I had lunch with an old friend today. This is a guy who started out as a business acquaintance, but over time became a buddy. I think one of the reasons for our friendship is that we are both “high D” personality types that relate on many levels and have the same work ethics. More importantly, he understands and appreciates loyalty.

When I left my career two years ago, I discovered many people who had appeared to be friends, were merely using me for the connection to my company. I found this out, when they stopped calling me, and/or stopped returning my calls when I was no longer in a position to give them business, or provide them with show tickets. I guess I shouldn’t have been so naïve’.

My friend Mark, on the other hand continued to help me network and he hired me on for some special projects. He appreciated me for my talent and ability. More importantly, he kept in touch with me when all I had to offer was friendship.

On my way to meet Mark for lunch, I received a call from another business acquaintance. I will spare you the details, but this guy wouldn’t know loyalty if it bit him, and he proved it today.

When it all jumps off, life and business are about integrity, honesty, ethics, and loyalty. Without those attributes you get Enron.

Mark will probably read this. I didn’t necessarily write this for him to read. But I’m glad he will, because people should know they are appreciated. Loyalty deserves honor.

A "chance" meeting

She was 12. He was 13. He watched her from across the street and wished he had the guts to cross over and introduce himself. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Unbelievably, she was the exact person he had seen in a dream when he was ten years old. Now, she was within 30 feet of him.

From the next block he could see his best buddy walking toward him. As his friend approached, he said; “you see that girl over there, I know her… you want to meet her? The boy could hardly believe his ears. Before he could answer, his friend has already called to her. He crossed the street and began talking to her. The boy crossed over and waited until his friend would make the introduction. Finally, it happened. They were formally introduced, the boys buddy then took off to do something else.

The boy and the girl began talking and walking. He learned that she was a minister’s daughter. She was in this resort town with her grandparents and would be leaving in just a few hours. They walked together for a while until they arrived at her grandparent’s summer trailer. It wasn’t more than 10 minutes before she had to leave. He didn’t think to get her phone number. As quickly as she came into his young life, she was quickly gone…

It was summer. Three years had past since he met her. He thought about her all the time. At sixteen, he had dated other girls, but he always wondered about the girl he met at Lakeside. He and his best friend were once again roaming the streets of the resort town. They checked out all the girls that walked past them. They knew they would meet someone this week.

He looked down the street to the spot where he had met her three years ago. In that spot were two girls. One of them was her. Before he could say or do anything, his friend was crossing the street calling to her. Before he knew what was happening, his friend made contact and quickly began cementing his relationship with her. He was introduced to her friend, and the four of them were off making plans for the rest of the week.

They hung out for a couple days…he kept thinking that the pairing was incorrect, but he didn’t know what to do about it. She seemed happy with his friend. It was only a week. She probably wouldn’t be interested in him anyhow…after all, she didn’t even remember meeting him three years before…

Parents are perceptive beyond the comprehension of their children...

Late in the week his parents arrived at the resort. They were introduced to both of the girls. His father immediately took him aside and said; “Son, you are with the wrong girl.” He replied, "I know."

...Eight months had gone by since he saw her last. As far as he knew, his friend and her were still dating. Finally one day, he inquired of his friend as to the status of the relationship…”We didn’t have much in common…I haven’t seen her in three months.” It was the reply he had hoped for but didn’t expect.

He called her that night. They spoke on the phone for about an hour and a half. He asked her if he could see her. She said yes.

He was 17. She was 16. It was 1972. They’ve been together ever since.

HER birthday is February 6. He celebrates the day as the most significant day of HIS life.

It's a mad, mad world

About an hour before the State Of The Union Address I saw a commercial on TV that referred to "The SuperBowl" as "America's Unofficial Holiday". I immediately thought back to an item that ran in "Mad Magazine" several years ago...

It was right after the concept of the "SuperBowl" was introduced. "Mad" ran an item depicting "SuperBowl Sunday" in the future. It showed a ridiculous scene of special sales at department stores, TV specials, closed businesses, parades in major cities, people hosting/attending "SuperBowl" parties and special activities. They showed churches holding abbreviated services and/or canceling services. Newspapers and magazines were ablaze with headlines about "The SuperBowl". TV and Radio news programs were monopolized by "SuperBowl" features. The country was totally transfixed and focused on "The SuperBowl".

I remember reading the magazine feature and laughing hysterically. I remember sharing the lunacy with family and friends. The writers at "Mad" were really over the top.

Paper or plastic?

So once again, "the religious right" has determined that a cartoon character is promoting the gay lifestyle.

First, let me say, that I am religious. I am a Christian. I am also fairly conservative.

Having said that, I would like to make it clear that I believe those who label themselves as the "religious right" are usually neither.

Most who consider themselves the "RR" would say that they have been saved by Jesus, his teachings and his passion. Therein lies the challenge. I have not found anywhere in the New Testament ( which is the inspired word of God, testifying to the teachings of Jesus, Christ) any evidence that Jesus would have shunned gays. In fact, he taught us to love one another, even our enemies and those with whom we differ.

Without getting into that discussion any deeper however, allow me to continue with my original topic...

Dr. James Dobson; head of "Focus on the Family" has determined that "Sponge Bob Square Pants" is most likely gay, and is promoting gay lifestyle to our children. "Bob has now joined the ranks of "Bert and Ernie", and the little purple Teletubby." Wake up Dr. Jim, Sponge Bob and the others are either cartoon characters or puppets.

The real problem facing this country is much worse. It has been with us for over forty years with virtually no attention from the "RR". Only God knows how much damage has been done to children over the years because of it. I refer of course to "Barbie".

"Barbie" and her friend "Ken" have cohabitated in thousands of toyboxes across America without the benefit of marriage. They have spent time alone together in "Barbies Dream House". They have travelled together in "Barbies RV". I am told that on occassion they have been found in the back of "Barbies Corvette". Over the years, I have even caught them naked in my own swimming pool.

Having said all of this, I am not suggesting that Barbie and Ken have had illicit sex. In fact, the problem runs much deeper... Ken and Barbie are both androgenous. What does this teach our children...Are we as a society so sick and twisted that we have allowed our children for muliple generations to be exposed to, and associate with such strange and abnormal individuals. What damage has been done to us? What damage has been done to our children? We have allowed "Barbie and Ken" to promote androgenous lifestyle.

One must ask, what sick and twisted behavior must these two be guilty of? With no sex organs, they have obviously found some other form of deviant gratification to satisfy their carnal instincts. I shudder to imagine. And yet, Dr. Dobson, Jerry Falwell and others have allowed this insidious behavior to continue without comment.

Wake up boys, you are missing a headline.

I, the jury

Last year at this time, I was serving on jury duty. On the first day, upon our arrival we were directed to a long hallway to register. At the end of the hallway was a service counter with two service areas. Above each area was a sign. One sign said; “A through M”, the other sign said; “N through Z”. As we were waiting in our designated lines, a woman entered the area, looked up at the signs and asked me; “What those signs A through M and N through Z mean? I asked her what her last name was, she replied; “Smith”. I told her to get into the line marked; “A through M”. That was just my way of being helpful. How would you like to have her on YOUR jury.

American Idol

Another season of "American Idol" has begun. Once again people all across the country will gather at the water coolers of American businesses to discuss the relative talents of several talentless fools who hope to become the next "Idol".

Night after night, the TV news devotes several minutes of airtime to discussing the performance of sports teams and players. Many will be held up as "heroes" and people to be idolized. Many of those will turn out to be drug users, adulterors, and sometimes murderers. ( if the glove fits...)

The Grammy's the Emmy's, American Music Awards, the list goes on and on. We are obsessed with idolizing actors, music stars, sports figures, and TV stars. Wby? because they live lifestyles that most can only dream of. In our country oppulent lifestyle is something to dream about and idolize others for. Believe it or not, this is still the land of opportunity and anyone...no, everyone has the same opportunity to rise to the level of their dreams, if only they dare too. That however is not the purpose of this post...

I spent yesterday riding along with and observing a team of people that have devoted their careers to truly serving others. They are the doctors, nurses, and pilots of MetroHealth Centers' Lifeflight. I had a chance to fly with them, and see first hand how they think and perform.

As we flew I observed their compassion and committment. I observed the compassion of the doctors and nurses on the ground.

When we had a break, I went up to the seventh floor of Metro, where my wife is a nurse. It was the first time I had a chance to see where she works. She is on a trauma floor. Her patients usually earn their 15 minutes of fame on the 11:00 news. They are usually not the cream of society. She and her collegues put up with a lot of crap as they tend to the care and healing of these people. Some of her patients are there due to accidents. Many are there due to violence; shot, or stabbed. Some of her patients are average everyday good people caught up in circumstances beyond their control. Regardless of who they are, or how they got there, they get the same treatment.

Like most of society, the patients that are transported by Lifeflight, or who are cared for by people like my wife, will watch American Idol, The Superbowl, The World Series, The Emmy Awards and so on... They are looking for heroes. They are looking in the wrong places.

I found my hero...She works on 7B at MetroHealth Center.

Why not?

I thought it would be fun to pay the turnpike toll for the stranger behind me the other day. The tollbooth operator wouldn’t let me do it. Go figure.

In Blue (part three)

The first shot hit his right wrist. His gun dropped to the ground as the second shot hit his right forearm. He took cover behind his vehicle and retrieved his gun with his left hand. As he returned fire, the third shot hit him in the left arm. His gun once again fell to the ground as shot 4 hit him dead center at the heart. Shot 5 went through his badge. He collapsed into his car, and in his last conscious moment, spoke into the radio, “419 to radio…I’m hit…” He could hear the van speeding away, he could hear the sirens, screeching brakes, and whining engines of his backup. He thought…”the Viet-cong didn’t get me…shit…” and then he blacked out.

The ER staff was startled by the alert tones coming from the squad at the scene…”We have a 42 year old white male with multiple GSW to the arms and upper torso… He is semi-conscious with a weakening pulse and even breath sounds. ETA 2 minutes.”

As the trauma team cut his uniform off, they saw first hand the value of a ballistic vest. The shots to the arms were devastating but this officer will see his kids grow up. The shot to the heart felt like a baseball bat to the chest. It would leave an appropriate bruise and some broken ribs. The shot through the badge…left a burn…congressmen who lobbied for bullet proof vests for all police officers would call in the coming days and ask if he would speak in support of their upcoming campaigns. The Chief made a couple of token visits. The Mayor came by once. His arms would need extensive surgery and rehab. He would need months of counseling. His wife and kids would need months of counseling. His fellow officers would take extra care in wearing their vests. His service record was hailed in the media and he was called a hero by the local news.

The suspect was caught one week after the shooting hiding in the attic of a home in the southwest projects. He apologized in court and got 15 years. It took 18 months for the officer to recover. On his fourth day back to work…he was chasing a blue Cadillac down the interstate…

In Blue ( part two )

The trip back to the station took about 20 minutes. In his mind however, it took about 18 months…

He remembered the first radio transmission: “All Midtown units, an armed robbery has just occurred at the Signature Inn, Interstate and Prospect Street. Suspect is a black male, approximately 5’10” wearing a black sweatshirt, jeans and a blue stocking cap. He showed a blue 9mm, was last seen north bound on the interstate in a white Ford Van, no plate given. “ He had heard this transmission in his mind over and over again, so many times, that he could recite it in his sleep… He didn’t have time to write any of it down, he had already spotted the van and was within 5 car lengths of it. “419 to radio, I have that vehicle in sight, we are north bound on the interstate… “ The dispatcher was calm and collected as she advised the other units and surrounding communities that “One of (her) officers was in pursuit of a robbery suspect, North bound on the interstate, the suspect is armed with a 9mm and traveling in a white Ford van. “ The nearest units were still over two miles away and the gap was widening as the suspect increased his speed.

He thought to himself… in another mile, I will be out of radio range…Against his better judgment, he flipped the switch that would illuminate his light bar and turn on the take down lights. Expecting a chase, he tugged on his seat belt. He advised the radio that he was in hot pursuit, and would be switching to a statewide frequency. As the radio responded… as his back up advised of their ETA… the van suddenly pulled over.

Cars were zipping past. Wind created by the passing trucks was causing the patrol car to shake, and adrenalin took the place of thought… He aimed his spotlight on the van, he opened his car door, and stayed behind it as he exited the vehicle…at the same instant, the suspect exited his van. Without even aiming…he squeezed the trigger as quickly as he could. Approaching sirens grew louder as the bullets flew toward their intended target…

In Blue (part one)

He gripped the wheel a little tighter than normal but didn’t realize it. The siren seemed louder than usual, he noticed that. Although the world was in slow motion, the cars he passed were blurred in his peripheral vision. There was a slight ache in his right arm. Was it his imagination, or was it still hurting a year and a half later? He wished the car he was pursuing would just pull off the side of the road, but he had already been chasing him for over six miles. It should have been a simple traffic stop, but this was not going to end well.

The chatter on the radio was reverberating in his head, which was now starting to hurt as well. After 14 years of law enforcement, this was not new to him. But it had only been 4 days since he returned to work. Six other units were now involved in the chase. Only one other officer in pursuit was from his department, so they were all trying to talk on the statewide channel, and it was cluttered with activity from several other un-involved departments. One more mile, and there would be another department involved. More noise, more confusion.

“419 to radio…we are southbound on the interstate about to leave the county…contact OSP to spike the interstate…he’s not stopping.”
The answer came back; “419, OSP is closing the ramps in the vicinity and will spike at mile 181.” He thought to himself, “that’s two miles from here, we could be out of radio range”. He was suddenly very aware of the other pursuing units and thankful for their presence.

He glanced at the speedometer then reported to the radio; “419 to radio, we are in excess of 100, he’s still weaving in and out of traffic.” As the radio confirmed his transmission, he noticed his temperature gage crossing into the hot zone. When he looked up, he could just make out the OSP units in the distance on the side of the interstate. Faintly he heard on his radio; “radio to 419, OSP advises spikes are down.” Instantaneously, he could see the blue Cadillac swerve abruptly within a cloud of smoke and dust. Everyone including the blue Cadillac began to slow down. He and three other units began to pull into formation to block in the Cadillac in case the spikes weren’t enough. The spikes worked however and the blue Cadillac careened toward the center strip.

The pursuing units seemed to all arrive at once, lights flashing, sirens still blaring, doors flying open, guns drawn, officers yelling, an overhead OSP chopper kicking up dust and driving the decibel level far beyond tolerable levels. The driver of the blue Cadillac emerged from the car. Despite orders to “get on the ground” the driver leveled the rifle at the first officer. There was one command to drop the gun…shouted by several, from multiple directions. The rifle however was pointed squarely at one officer. He fired once. That was enough. The threat was over.

The adrenalin continued to pump. He reached for a cigarette, forgetting that he had quit smoking while he was in the hospital. The internal affairs shooting team was already on its way. The squad was there checking for signs of life. There were pictures being taken, the chopper went away, the world was suddenly quiet. When the squad left the scene with the suspect in the back, it left without lights or siren.

The supervisor arrived, and asked him to hand over his gun, until the investigation was over. As the measurements and photos were taken, he sat in his own zone car… and he thought about his wife.

The sky is falling...again

There they go again… The Cleveland weather forecasters and news anchors are using words like; “treacherous”, "dangerous”, ” threatening”. This is to describe the potential inbound weather. What it really means is, the temperature is dropping and there will be about 3 – 4 inches of snowfall. This is supposed to put Cleveland drivers into a panic.

Here is a revelation. This is Cleveland, Ohio. It is supposed to be cold and snowy. A little ice and snow is not treacherous, threatening or dangerous. Terrorists, tsunamis, tornadoes, hurricanes, serial killers, drunk drivers and angry spouses with guns are threatening, dangerous, and treacherous.

Unfortunately for local media, that damned Tsunami is still stealing their thunder, so we are subjected to the ranting of the local anchor trying desperately to make “his story, bigger than their story”. Ratings. Ratings. RANTINGS.

To quote a car commercial… Wake up and drive!

"I'm the tax man."

We built our present home in 1990. We were the first home to go up in our development. One day as we were meeting with the builder to finalize some plans, he mentioned that there would be a water retention area between the properties. This was being mandated by the City. Further, the water retention area needed to be managed since it was common ground for the neighborhood. Consequently, there was a need for a home owners association. I jokingly said; “ I want to be the President.”

There is a lesson here. If you want to be a smart ass, be prepared for the consequences. It’s been 14 years and I’m still the president. My only responsibility is to collect and remit $10.80 each year to the County to cover the property taxes. Now divide that by 26 homes. Yeah… it’s a huge amount of money, but there are still people who I have to chase around for the payment. There is one family that hasn’t paid in three years. I keep hoping they will put their house up for sale so I can file a lien for $1.26 as my way of saying thanks for the cooperation. Anyhow, it’s that time of year again. Wish me luck.

Turn the page

Well, so far this year has started out pretty much like last year. I don’t say that to be negative, depressing, or to sound disappointed. I just think that your personal happiness has less to do with the changing of the calendar and more to do with your decision to move forward. That is a decision that can be made any time, not just NYE. In fact, I think decisions to change, improve, move forward mean more when they are not made on NYE. It is just too easy on NYE to “get into the moment” and say things that you won’t stick too.

We kept things pretty quiet last night. A shrimp and steak dinner, then we met the Fockers. Got home in time to see the ball fall on Times Square, listen to the neighbor’s blow off some illegal fireworks, then zzzzzzzzzzzzz.

David Letterman tapes at 4pm. Consequently he never does a NYE show. Too bad, because I really don’t care for Leno. His ego has gotten way beyond his talent. I read recently that his ratings are higher than Lettermans’. I am on a personal mission to change that. (How about that guest shot now Dave?)

So what will 2005 bring? Whatever comes, I will view it as a challenge to grow.

Keep praying for the people of Asia.

in the immortal words of Bob Seger..."Turn the page."