Make your own Simpsons character

Does this look like Gary at all?

Kyoho Grapes

At the Laguna Niguel Farmer's Market this morning I came across some amazing grapes. They apparently have a really short season of availability so I have every intention of going back next week (though I'm there every weekend anyway) to get more. If you haven't had these, do yourself a favor and look for them in CA in the peak of summer (July/August).
http://www.theproducehunter.com/productdisplay.asp?ID=2056

Plumb tuckered out

When I purchased my home in February of 2002 it did not dawn on me that I would end up learning plumbing. Yes, as with any homeowner I did consider that repairs would be necessary and that I'd learn on-the-fly. I have a book that my Mother gave me called "Complete Do-It-Yourself" from Time Life books. And it is pretty handy for getting an idea of what's going on with household appliances, plumbing and electric. But mostly you learn from doing hands-on.

So big deal, Gary. You've fixed a few valves and such. You're no master plumber. Perhaps not. But I have taken on the following projects in my house, which, having been built in 1987, is now 20 years old and has required nearly all it's valves and hoses replaced.

1. Replaced nozzle on the gas line to the gas dryer (it was sticking 3 inches out of the wall when I moved in)
2. Replaced the valves on both the hot and cold water lines to the washer/dryer
3. Replaced refrigerator water line
4. Installed new kitchen faucet with extension handle
5. Installed two new low-flush toilets in 2 of the 3 bathrooms
6. Replaced all 3 bathrooms' toilet water lines and all toilet valves
7. Replaced the entire inside of the 3rd toilet (which in retrospect I should have just changed out!)
8. Removed corrosion from master bath faucet
9. Replaced soap dish in the wall of the shower (note to self: tiling & grout is a bitch but cement is worse)
10. Installed new dishwasher (yes, this is a project that even plumbers cringe at doing and for some reason I decided I would try this one night in 2004.

In addition to that I had a plumber replace the main water line valve (not something you'd want to do-it-yourself). So at this point I'm pretty much ready to commit to a few hasty generalizations:

• Plumbing made in the 80's was cheap as an Indian flea market
• Having now replaced every other piece of plumbing in the house the next item to "go" will be either the water lines/valves to the bathroom sinks (which have the same valves I already replaced in the corresponding toilets, see #6 above) or a burst copper pipe which I shall not be repairing myself
• Plumbing 'issues' come in groups (a valve upstairs, a hose in the garage, a tap in the backyard all within 3 weeks of each other)
• Plumbing 'issues' should be tackled in groups -- I know it's a pain in the ass to replace ALL the valves if you have 4 toilets but otherwise you'll end up at Home Depot every weekend for a month. I'd rather spend the extra hour now and save the aggravation later.
  

The good is that I have learned a great deal about plumbing. The most important thing is that none of the above activities were overly difficult. Really they are quite simple if you have a few basic plumbing tools (a good wrench is key), a little time and a Home Depot within 5 minutes drive.

The bad is that I'm tired of plumbing. I'm a lover not a fighter says Paul McCartney.

Them's Fightin' Words

All my friends know how to fight. Well, most of them anyway. I'm not talking about Ultimate Fighting Championship style or a bar-fight. I'm talking about verbal sparing. I know a lot of folks who have been through a relationship ringer at my age. On standardized forms I check the box that says "Divorced". That ain't changing. And with that status comes a oh-so-special experience that taught me a lesson in life. All these acquaintances I'm talking about share this experience. Call it an exclusive social club that nobody would willingly want to be a part of.

The elite of the fighting regime come in all shapes and sizes. Divorced. Unmarried with kids. Estranged from a long-time lover. In and out of relationships that work for 6 months and then fizzle. Down and out on dating. I know a whole slew of them. We could write a book just about online dating stories, bad dates and fine sexual encounters.

There are a lot of stories out there from a lot of once-unhappy folks. The good news is that a majority of them are happy now. It usually only takes one slap in the face to learn that a slap in the face kinda hurts. I socialize with quite a few slapees. It's not that I don't have friends happily married. Au contraire! I even have close family who are happily married and re-married. With and without kids. It's just that I've heard a lot of the stories from both sides of the aisle. And the people I know who have been through these experiences... the ones who really got a good fistful of pain the first time around in what they thought was love, well, they have special skills that others do not possess. I'd go so far as they possess a certain... je ne sais quois.

Broken love will make you a virtual ninja of argumentative dialectic. Try it some time. Or better yet, don't. It won't help you be a better person. Analytical, hypocritical, diabolical; we all find our best of the worst traits. We all know the pushing points, the buttons, the fightin' words that pick the very best scabs off of an innocent person. And like a CIA agent who is trained to kill, it's a skill you never ever want to use. A skill we elite trainees try our best to keep under covers never to be revealed except in times of emergency.

So on this cool and calm Saturday night in mid-August here's a toast to reserving the fighting skill for another world. This world is filled enough with wars and hate and venomous politics. Lets all strive for a little more brotherly love and a little less emotional turmoil. A little more gratitude and a little less regret. We'll all sleep a little better and maybe those fighting skills will dull with time, patience and a big dose of understanding.

Criss Cross

Oh how our paths criss-cross

this morning I drove in a daze
neath skies of gray haze
til I became present, and how!
there's only now.
and I gazed 'pon the clouds forming
the most pleasant pattern swarming
and the universe was so obviously smiling.

it smiles on me irregardless of you
it smiles on you irregardless of me
and oh how our paths criss-cross

this evening I see how serious it was
so we labored for our higher cause
for you all became forbidden
for me solutions were hidden.
The laughter of our friendship buried
under months (years?) of burdensome worry
'til formed a storm what should've been flurry.

we weren't living now
but rather thinking how
and oh how our paths criss-cross

What a pair we were us lovers
what luscious touch lay under covers
and it stays smothered, time eternal
but oh how our paths still criss-cross.

That Smell

Maybe I've felt that once before. The same thing I felt outside the office building this morning in the freshness of the morning. The sun was not yet hot but it was warming the Earth. The sky wasn't cloudy or perfectly clear; there was some haze of morning -- not fog, not marine layer, this was truly a morning dew. A breeze blew over me, cool but gentle. Consider it a caress. One that put my mind in another time.

Suddenly I was 14 years old. Standing alone in my summer job. It would have been this exact time of year. And there I am, remembering what it was like at Solar Gardens, the plant nursery I worked at for 2 years after I was old enough to get a work permit. I think I made $4.25/hour. And the day would get progressively more hectic. It was an exhausting job to water, help customers, move plants, haul mulch, work the register and dig ditches. Basically I was the closest thing they could get to slave labor. But it was not entirely unpleasant. Something about working outside and being accepted with my long-hair as a stable worker was rewarding.

Anyway, that feeling stopped me dead in my tracks this morning. I had a moment of absolutely peace and clarity. I smiled at the sky, opened my arms wide to the breeze and made a mental note such that I would remember to open my heart to a blog entry 14 hours later. My day was busy. I interviewed a candidate for a new position in my department. I met with various colleagues; had phone conversations with Sr. VP's, discussed some inventory issues with various powers-that-be and ran two meetings including some awkward one-on-one. I love what I do a majority of my days. Today was one of them. I took no prisoners, completed the tasks in front of me and moved toward a common goal we all have of growing something wholesome: a brand that means authenticity and a group who wishes nothing more than to succeed in a colossal challenge.

But I'd have traded it all to have remained in the simplicity of Solar Gardens for just a few more moments.

Roper vs Dexter

The Tale of the Tape

Dexter "The Green Demon" Integra:
- DOB: May 1996
- Record: 141,796 miles, 0 losses, 1 KO
- 3 injuries
- Fight Venues: Washington, DC; Boulder, CO; Orange County, CA
- Special Skills: Alpine head unit with iPod integration
- Manager: Honda

Roper "Master of Cool" Refrigerator:
- DOB: April 1999
- Record: 63,120 hrs runtime, 1 loss, 0 KO
- 1 injury
- Fight venues: Laguna Hills, CA; Irvine, CA; Fountain Valley, CA
- Special Skills: Ice-maker
- Manager: Whirlpool

It's been a tough fought battle but the long-standing rivalry between Dexter the car and Roper the refrigerator has come to an end. Roper was the first to give in during a particularly tumultuous time when we was trying to make his career come-back and service two sets of groceries after a two-year hiatus. Alas, his come-back was short lived and he will be retired to the San Diego Gas & Electric recycling program.

Dexter, who has never faltered in his goal of fighting well past his youth, looks and feels great. He shows no signs of slowing and with a set of new tires underneath him (as opposed to around his waste line like some middle-agers) he believes he'll continue to serve as undisputed champion for many years to come.

In a sign of true sportsmanship, Dexter has generously allowed Roper to vacation in the garage until his final retirement this Friday.

If There Was Doubt

If there was doubt that each of us is worthy... it's in the moments we least believe that the value of our lives is understood. And then we remember. We remember to pay attention.

When I said I let it go
I passed a judgment to cover myself up.
Apparently it did not work.
As the friend came and said,
with the utmost sarcasm and a heaping spoonful
of modern slang-laden realism,
"Yes, but you loved her, serious.
I mean, you wrote sonnets and shit!
And then you wrote stuff that made me wanna copy & paste."

Indeed. Copy and paste my release for all to see.

And with that the emotion drained from my face. Not sadness. Not happiness. A blank stare on the outside and a ringing alarm inside. The same sound you hear when you hit the "Daily Double". Just acknowledgment that yes, I did. Yes, I am that person. Worthy of receiving such things as I give. And so I shall and I am and I do. Oh it's coming back to me now just how blessed I am. I'm sorry it had passed from view.

See, the routine, looking back, was boring! Holy mother load. Yes, boring. As fake tends to be. She was boring, they were boring, I was boring. The realization gives me the simple smile of the Buddha. Not a smirk. Not laughter. And most important, not hate or emptiness.

This part, now, this is real. This recovery. This smile. This yoga of body and mind. This life.

Thanks universal spirit. Thanks self. Thanks life.

Only Waters Ahead

Once upon a time I was a little boy
ran around aimless finding boundless joy
and then all this time passed
and I've seen the bitter
but this spirit still finds there's time just to shimmer.

I sought out passion in the solace of others
and tried to find comfort hiding under covers
until the truth stood up
and said "How do you do?"
with my body bared and my soul torn through.

Washed clean in a rainstorm, gripping desperate to cliffs
as the waves crash round and with weakened wrists
the clenching lets go
and the spirit breaks free
the path looks clearer but we're lost out at sea.

Bereft of a vision still the sun always rises
enough so to recognize that life's not the prizes
but the passion and smiles,
the movements and motions
the feeling of solace when we're lost in the oceans.

In that moment surrounded by blue salty skies
we can't anymore tell the stories and lies
the truth is apparent
and the thoughts are all said
so the mind finds its clarity and only water's ahead.

One Can Dream

I was spending some quality time last night (among other things eating sushi and playing Wii) with a good friend and sometime during the course of the evening she asked me, "What do you want?" It was in the context of a conversation about relationships. And at the time I just laughed. I laughed because I had this crystal clear idea of how it would FEEL but I had absolutely no idea how to describe it. The feeling is all I needed to manifest the idea but a description helps when speaking aloud.

This morning on the standard morning commute the iPod let me know the answer. The rare Rod Stewart song came on and "Mandolin Wind" started playing. So I think I can define what I want so succinctly it struck me with a smile and I listened to the song three times. Thanks Rod.

The coldest winter in almost fourteen years
Could never, never change your mind
And I love ya.