I'd Like To Thank...

it was a big weekend for awards and thank you speeches, on friday one of the greatest nba hall of fame classes was inducted into springfield (home of the nba hall of fame), the class included david robinson, viv stringer, john stockton, jerry sloan and michael jordan. then on sunday the mtv vma's.

in the nba induction, it had to be hard for enm (everyone not michael), his induction was so big that they couldn't hold the ceremony on site at the hall of fame and had to rent out a facility and charged $1,000 a ticket. this was the pinnacle of every ones hard work and the cherry on top of a long and arduous career and everyone was taking a backseat to michael. they knew it, michael knew it and everyone there knew it. in fact, the ceremony has never been shown on tv and this one was shown in prime time on espn. the michael factor. imagine the conversation that may have happened between john stockton and his kids:

"dad, congrats on the hall of fame, you're now among the greatest ever. sorry you never won a championship, but you are now enshrined among the gods of the game and we are very proud of you. do you know if we're going to be sitting near michael? do you think he'll sign my ticket? oh, is that charles barkley?"

then on sunday, mtv held their annual event to pretend that they still care about the art of the music video. to their defense they still do show videos. during the hours of 3 am - 3:30 am, sandwiched between the shows real world mars and i'm still a jackass, you may catch a clip of a video. ironically, the "award" show only had a handful of awards, most of them were given the standard award show disclaimer..."awards given last night at a special ceremony went to...", this allowed them to do more of what mtv does well which was everything but show music videos.

they kicked off the night with a tribute to michael jackson...warning, warning, an off subject rant about to ensue

i get it, he was great and a worldly icon, but to say that the entire night was dedicated to him and his life and to just sandwich the show with him was not a dedication. madonna was great, she's an icon as well and can probably relate to what he went through but her speech was more about her than him. the dancing was cool but the only way that anyone will celebrate him was to imitate his dancing so it really wasn't anything new. then janet came out and performed a bit of the song "scream", the only duet they did together, that was cool but the fact that they only made one song together, albeit not a great one, so it left little to get excited about. then radio silence until the end when they showed the trailer for his upcoming movie. so what was billed as a celebration of his life ended up being a 10 min song and dance in the beginning and a promotional spot for the movie? i spent more time celebrating his life loading his songs to my ipod than mtv did.

okay, i feel a lot better. back to the awards. as you all know, the first award went to taylor swift and kanye west stole the light by taking her mic and going on his own little rant on how she didn't deserve the award. jon and kate gosselin would need to release a sex tape that featured jon hooking up with lindsey lohan while kate was complaining that he wasn't doing it right to have better drama than what kanye did. kanye stole her acceptance, beyonce gave it back and taylor swift quickly became america's sweat heart and probably sold more music this week after than her entire career.

so those two events got me thinking. acceptance speeches should be an art form that are meticulously thought of, rehearsed and has meaning. this may be the only time you're on the stage where the world has casted their eyes and ears on you. you'll be lucky to have minutes of time at the podium to thank people, share your ego, show off your cleavage and say something witty. that's a lot of pressure for a few minutes. then you have to deal with emotions, not tripping while walking, the beautiful trophy girls standing behind you, the prompter telling you to hurry up, trying to act sober, forgetting to thank mom or showing sweat marks. too much pressure to be under.

then i got to thinking that acceptance speeches should be realized across all fields and throughout everyday jobs. everyone who has excelled in their field should have the chance to have the lights on them, a microphone and two minutes of utter nervousness. so i thought, what would an acceptance speech sound like at...

cable tv award show - best cable repair person

"wow, i totally didn't expect this. i wake up everyday saying that there are hundreds of people in my territory that missed out on dancing with the stars last night or had to hear about the outfit lauren conrad wore on the hills because their cable was out and it's up to me to make sure they don't miss tonight's premiere of bones. we get a bad rap for giving a four hour window of service and customers don't care what happens before i get to them, so i have to make sure that when i am there, that i give them the best cable repair i can. i'll use the better coaxial wires, change the batteries in their remote, i'll even tell them that the best hours for soft core porn are between 2 - 3 am on cinemax. i'd like to thank bob my supervisor who taught me the one handed cable cutting method that saves minutes during installation, jenny my first customer who thanked me with a ham sandwich and capri sun because i was doing her service during my lunch hour and my wife annie who has been by my side ever since we went from rabbit ears antenna to 100 hd channels and pay per view. thank you"

garbage collector awards - best dumper

"holy shit, thank you. this was not expected, i mean charlie has been on his route for more than 20 years and he is the standard that we all look to, he was the one that mastered the scoop and dump method that saves time and allows the trucks to keep moving and never stop, i'm grateful that he taught me that, charlie, this ones for you. i'd like to thank mrs. wright on summit ave, she always double bags with heavy duty liners and warns me when she puts her kitty litter in the bag so i can be more careful on how i load it into the truck. i'd like to thank mack, he's the best driver anyone can have, riding on the back of that rig isn't easy and mack knows when to speed up and slow down, when i need to hurry and when i need a break, mack you're an ambassador this and the garbage world owes you a thank you, you'll always be the best in receiving my dump. and lastly i'd like to thank my pops, it was at a young age when we were walking together and i carelessly tossed a candy wrapper on the floor and he chastised me by telling me that someone has to pick that up, you were right pop, someone has to pick that up and this ones for you."

weed award for rookie of the year dealer

"dude, way fucking cool. wow. when i was seven years old i would buy packs of gum for .50 cents and sell individual sticks for .10 each and then moved to selling sodas, then cans of beer, i knew that i had a knack for selling shit. when a friend asked me to take a toke from my j, i said sure, give me a buck first, that was when i realized that i can make money selling puffs for those that can't afford the whole j. so that led to the community j and i was making a killing on each puff which led to the multi-puff program i created that charged people $20 for a 25 puff punch card, so anytime they saw me and wanted a puff i would just punch their card and give them a puff. totally rocked out on that one. i want to thank...ha ha, dude i forgot who else i want to thank, where am i?"

cab drivers award show - driver of the year

"thank you, this is a huge honor. about five years ago i was just a girl driving my family around in my car making sure they got to where they need to get to, safe, on time and in a clean car, they would pay me in gas money and an occasional beer for the ride but i never thought that i could make a living out of it. for the last two years i became a cab driver in a male dominated world, as a female i am part of 2% of drivers that are female, with close to 50,000 cabs in nyc alone it's tough to survive. i pride myself in knowing the streets and having a fresh pine scent at all times, turning off that annoying tv that only causes motion sickness when riders watch it. i live by one motto that i recite everyday, you have an option, you can put yourself and your junk in his trunk which is dirty, smelly and don't know what else has been in there or you can get into mine which smells fresh, is clean and no matter how long we are together, you'll know that i was the best ride you ever had. thank you.

now wouldn't the world be a better place if we celebrated the best in all walks of life and give them their moment to shine and be thankful? i started to write what my thank you speech would be but i'm in the fourth hour of the four hour window waiting for my cable guy and he just arrived.

The Windless Storm

For all you Facebook or Twitter users, you've probably noticed that most updates from users are about remembrance of 9/11. It's interesting to see how the world or the digital world in this case has changed dramatically where the conversations of the masses are dictated not by the relevant news of the day but by the emotions of the people.

It was Twitter and Facebook that broke the death of Michael Jackson, statuses were flooded when Obama was called a "liar" by the Joe Wilson earlier in the week and users are most popular during their birthdays when their walls are flooded with posts from friends.

Not sure how I really feel about that. Part of me thinks that it's a great form of outlet that allows everyone to express how they feel, but on the other side of it, it also creates this massive bandwagon that gives the truly opinionated a soapbox.


But I've gone down a path on a topic which wasn't meant for this entry.


Rather than saying "I will remember" this day and its significance in our history and my life, there's a part of me that wants to say, I want to forget this day.


Tuesday, September 11, 5:00 AM


Buzz buzz buzz, the siren of the alarm clock goes off. A few grunts, a tug of the blanket and an ever so slight adjustment of my head in order to find a cooler side of pillow ensues. Buzz buzz buzz. "Are you going to get that" Alice, my girlfriend moans out. "It's for you, you have a flight to catch", I say quickly in order to not say too much to avoid getting my brain fully functioning, side stepping a full wake up of senses.


She gets up, prepares herself and less than :30 minutes later, she screams from the front door "bye". Door slams and wakes up the dog evident by the slight growl he let out from being disturbed from his sleep.


We've been living together for a few years and would later marry and then divorce. We were in a good point in our relationship, we both had a good job, we owned a great townhouse and marriage was the next step for us. We both travelled a lot for our jobs, I would travel throughout the US and she would go to England and Scotland a few times a year. This trip was to London.


There were times when I would be gone for several days every week. Years ago when I started travelling for my company, she was so worried about the flying that her mother gave her a small gift that was to be placed in my travel bag. It's a tiny plastic frog glued onto a decorative little card. On the back of the card it reads:

Japanese Kaeru Frog

In Japanese, the word kaeru means both "frog" and "return".

Tucked in a traveler's purse or carry-on, our little frog carries wishes for a safe return home.

I thought it was a good gesture and really showed her concern with my travelling so I never joked about bad flights, turbulence or anything that would've aided in her angst.

After another hour or so in bed, I had to get up. I had a quick day trip with the President of my company to New York city that day. We were planning on taking the 10 AM shuttle, we would meet in the office then ride to airport together.

Tuesday, September 11, 8:00 AM

I arrive at the office. Shortly afterwards I find out that we won't be going to New York that day, meetings were cancelled.

Tuesday, September 11, 9:15 AM
"Hey Victor, good thing you didn't go to New York today, there seems to have been a plane crash there".

I go to the conference room where a few people are gathered watching the news. We all saw the same thing most of the world saw, part of the World Trade Center in flames. Speculation about pilot or engine failure and general concern. No one said anything about terrorists. Why would someone talk about terrorists? Up to that point we really didn't have anything to worry about.

As the camera is live on the tower's we all see the image that still haunts us to this day. Another plane hits. It's one of those "I remember exactly where I was at the time it happened" moments. Disbelief, surprise, concern and utter shock. The weird part was that no one in that conference room was in a state of panic. We were in Boston away from it all, terrorism wasn't a natural reaction and our demeanor was more about confusion than chaos.

Then the shit hit the fan.

More planes in the sky, more planes grounded, more "potential" targets.

If you've ever gotten punched in the face, its a feeling that you will never forget. At first it's less about the pain of getting hit, but the shock that you just got hit, then like Novocaine, it's a slow yet effective stream of numbness. That's what it felt like. But what pain? Sure I felt bad for everyone in New York, but how close to home did it really hit? I was in Boston, Alice was on a plane to London. Holy fuck. ALICE WAS ON A PLANE!!!!

She didn't pick up her phone, but she wasn't supposed to, her flight was supposed to be in the air, no info on its departure, nothing. Her flight was supposed to be at 9 AM so it's probably over the Atlantic now so that could be good I guess.

A plane is heading to Washington D.C.

Another plane has been spotted off course near Pittsburgh

You got to be kidding me. Not even video games can re-enact what was happening in the skies.

Then my cell phone rang. It was Alice.

"Hey, just wanted to let you know we're delayed a bit, we're on the runway, but for some reason the pilot said we are waiting a bit."

"Get the fuck off that plane now", I scream. So loud that co-workers started to gather around my office when they realized that Alice was on a plane. "Go to the emergency row, pull the fucking handle and jump on the wing and get the fuck off."

"What are you talking about?" she says with a, I'm totally annoyed with you, tone.

"Listen, two planes just crashed in New York and two more are being tracked, something bad is happening, don't know what but you should not be on a plane right now."

In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have said that. The last thing you want to do in that situation is tell someone who is petrified of flying, whose plane is on a runway about to take off, that there were just two planes that crashed in the same location 30 mins a part and two more that may.

"Hold on, I think we're going back to the terminal, I'll call you back" she said.

Tuesday, September 11, 10:30 AM

I'm outside of Logan Airport in Boston. It's a circus. Military personnel, vehicles, cops both state and local and security guards from every Tiffany's and local bank was everywhere. Alice wasn't picking up her phone and I had no idea where to start. The airport was locked down. Only people coming out, no one allowed to go in.

Phone rings.

"They're not letting me get my bags, what do I do?"

"Go home, get in a cab and I'll meet you there. They won't let me near the airport, I'm heading home."

Tuesday, September 11, 12:00 PM

I'm walking through downtown Boston heading towards the train station, most offices are closing so employees can get home to their families. The expressions are varying, from concern to confusion. I pass by a church and glance in, people are starting to spill in, it looked like a uniformed cadence of people praying for something. From the one lonely tear that fought to cling onto their cheek fighting gravity to avoid the lonely plummet to the head bow that spoke more in its silence than any of the screams and crying echoing from others. Was this real, I thought? What is happening?

I get home and Alice is on the couch in tears. She's watching the news. Her fear of flying was no longer a fear, it had become a sentencing. A verdict that to her was a lifelong albatross. No more flying, she cheated it that day and it confirmed her fears.

Tuesday, September 11, 4:00 PM
We start to get some semblance of normalcy, we decided to avoid the media, nothing good can come out of it.

The phone rings. "Yes, she lives here, hold on one sec."

All I heard were a few yes's, a no, some maybes and a handful of I think so. No thank you or goodbye. She comes back to the couch, takes the remote and switches back to CNN. Not wanting to add to the stress, I chose not to ask. I'll let her decide what's best.

The flood gates opened up. Hysterical tears, screaming and violent eruptions. She had lost it. Things broke, shelves fell, even the petals from a bouquet of flowers started to instantly wilt and take its plunge off the stem.

"That was the FBI, they wanted to confirm that I was on the American Airlines London flight. They asked if I noticed anything weird on the flight and types of people. They want me in for questioning and will call me to have someone pick me up."

Then on CNN it was announced that the government believes that there were more flights targeted for hijacking. They said that one flight from Atlanta to Germany was believed to be one and one from Boston to London...her flight.

Flash Forward

In the days and weeks to come, it was a slow healing process. Alice took some time from work and eventually quit the job due to the stress of having to travel again.

We got engaged the next year and married the following year. Subsequently, divorced years later. Every year, like most Americans, Alice takes that day to reflect. She couldn't get herself to watch any of the movies or shows made about that day and never talks about it.

Her story is just one of millions. There are people out there that lost loved ones, friends and most that didn't lose anyone but still overcome with emotion to the impact of that day. No one person's grief is more important than someone else's.

I have a friend who was supposed to be on one of the flights that hit in NYC, he was persuaded last second to stay in Boston for another meeting. He still has his boarding pass.

So on this day when most will have their own little story, anecdote or reflection, it gives me a brief pause when I hear that we will all remember that day. So maybe it's a bit insensitive but I'd rather forget it. I will honor that day and the people involved but like a bad memory or accident, no one wants to be reminded of those living nightmares.

Although, my relationship with Alice ended, I still carry the travel frog with me, I don't know how she goes about on this day or others that I know who have been affected.

But what I will choose to remember is the belief that in times of adversity and pain, we can choose to enhance the pain and join in the sorrow or figure out how to move onwards, some choose to remember and relive the pain while others move on. Sure we don't forget these moments but to know that something happened in order to be better from it is better than revisiting that emotional strain. It's all symantics I guess and tomorrow the alarm will ring again and I will roll over to steal another minute, just this time no one will be there to say goodbye to, no dog to get upset over the door slam and I'll probably grab my phone and check to see my friends Twitter and Facebook statuses that today talked about remembering but tomorrow will be back to the weather, happy birthday's, their kids, their home, what they are eating and other whimsical thoughts.

10 Things To Make Peace With

caught between my sixth straight back-to-back sportscenter, food network and a little man vs food, i found myself in one of those nights. those nights when sleeping is a foreign thought, no matter what i watch, read, eat or drink, outside of a heavy smash to my head with a blunt object, these eyes are not closing for the night. wasn't really sure why, it was a nice night, not hot, i had a good day, i even was able to get a shower in before bed - so it was a winning situation i was in. almost zen-like actually. but no sugar plums dancing in my head to lull me to sleep. not enough sheep to count. not even michael bolton on repeat could repulse me enough to drift away.

ironically, this happens to me often, but there usually is a cause or reason behind it. whether it be work, personal or just anxiety over something, but on this night...nothing.

tick tick tick, with each random thought another minute into the night passed by, 2:15 am, now 3:10 am, oh wait its an episode of no reservations i haven't seen...

3:59 am, that was a good episode, i wonder if jon & kate is on? now i approach the infomercial portion of television, magic bullets, set it and forget it, oxy clean, the awesome auger. then my mind drifted a bit...i wonder what happened to billy blanks and his tae bo videos or suzanne somers and her thigh master, something about chrissy in leotards and a one piece bathing suit sweating while opening and closing her legs was visceral and disturbing, wow how the mighty have fallen. this is getting bad, now its past 4 am and i'm in the suzanne somers fantasy portion of my insomnia...must find a way to sleep before it really gets ugly.

then it hit me, why not use this time to make peace with some things in my life. figuring that i just lost hours of my brain functionality on mindless tv, might as well pontificate a bit. hopefully i can bore myself to sleep. and with most self-help rituals, it'll probably all sound like great ideas at first which i would totally commit myself to achieving and completely forget the next day, but the goal really isn't to better myself here, its to fall asleep and if along the way i can figure out how to date less disaster stories, then its a win win in my book. so consider this my gift to society, not only for me but for all to enjoy, employ into their lives and bask in its infinite wisdom or pure silliness.

first thing to make peace with...
take things less seriously. i play basketball once a week in a refurbished school auditorium where the ceiling is lower on one side than the other, some of the people that show up to play, play in jeans and penny loafers, we light one half of the gym with a flood light, winning those games isn't going to get me drafted. the fantasy that a nba scout happens to walk into this gym looking for directions and happens to notice me isn't gonna happen. we are all competitive in nature, but we often forget that our al bundy polk high days are over and sometimes we just take certain things a bit too seriously.

second thing to make peace with...
be realistic. someone once said that we are all great american novelist, just that not all of us actually get anything written. i've probably started or conceptualized 20 or more ideas for novels, screenplays, plays or musicals and actually put fingers to keyboard on no more than three of the ideas. when my computer crashed and i lost those ideas, i chalked it up to "wasn't meant to be i guess". there's a fine line in what's a passion and what's a talent. be realistic in what you want to do and what you're good at doing. you ever notice the cliche about "having a dream and pursuing it"? why is it that only the people that have succeeded say that? you never hear a homeless man say "i put everything i had into this company and failed, but you should keep dreaming and work hard for it" or a recently laid off executive say "i worked so hard for them that i was the youngest executive ever in the organization, i took them global and if it wasn't for the economy i would've been in line for CEO, but it shows that hard work will always overcome"?

third thing to make peace with...
laugh at yourself more. a forgotten medicine for the mind and soul is the ability to laugh at oneself. we all have had our night at the apollo, but in our case the apollo theatre has been in the shower or the car, we've all tried the running man or cabbage patch dance and even farted in a crowded room or on a date. we chastise these moments as shame and embarrassment. think about it, if we were good at singing and dancing, would we be doing it on a whim to make us smile? no. singers and dancers don't sing and dance spontaneously, they do it for a living, but i'm sure they do other things outside of their comfort zone to make them happy and laugh. i don't sing and dance for a living, so i do it to make myself laugh. i know i sound more like billy the goat than billy joel when i sing, but it makes me laugh. and isn't laughter a natural mood enhancer? we are all so concerned over what people think about us that we forget about how we think about ourselves.

fourth thing to make peace with...
life in general is like a step dad, it often beats you and you sometimes you hate it, so move on. (apologies to all step dads out there, but i saw that line and had to use it, you have to admit it is a bit funny, not that i'm condoning step dad beating kids...)

fifth thing to make peace with...
letting go. we all have stalking tendacies, some more than others. you don't wear your shirt from when you were seven years old, so why should you hold onto other things in your life that you should let go. we are all nostalgic to an extent, but sometimes we find it hard to let go no matter what the situation. facebook has opened up new outlets for us. we use it to highlight how great or bad the weather is, we measure our popularity on how many birthday wishes we get posted on our wall, we idle away our dead time by telling the world we are idling away our dead time and we work harder on our old relationships than we did when we were in those relationships. i'm sure many of you subscribe to the 8 steps you're a stalker list below, if you are familiar and engage in this, consider this an intervention...

1) log on and check our wall, inbox and other messages
2) look at the news feed to see what others are doing
3) go to the page of one or multiple ex's (if there is a message or photo of said ex with someone of an opposite sex, go directly to step number 5)
4) go to the page of the people we are interested in or find hot, try to figure out if by not listing their relationship status if they are single or trying to hide something
5) go to the pages of the people our ex's have in their photos or wall comments, without any knowledge of the situation, get all riled up, start calling said ex all types of names which may or may not include slut, asshole, bitch, jerk, skank, d*&*head. if the ex is with a person we know, continue to call that person the same names listed above. Friendly reminder, they're an ex, i'm just saying...
6) go back to our page, look through the photos of ourselves, consider changing our profile photo, wish someone happy bday, accept a few friend requests and make a comment on someone else's wall
7) log out until a) one of your friends tells you about the photo they saw with your ex with so and so b) someone replies back to what you wrote on their wall or c) someone comments on your new profile photo
8) repeat daily

now its closer to 5 am and my eyes are closing, the birds are chirping and i think i might squeeze in a few hours of rest before i have to wake up. no time to think of the last five things, that will have to wait til tonight's insomnia bout, but after i watch the extenze or perfect pancake infomercial, its amazing how they get a perfect pancake every single time...

and if by chance i can't fully fall asleep, i can always go facebook stalking...

Dear Recruiter

To Whom It May Concern

This letter is to inform you of my intense interest and unqualified experience to be part of your top notch staff. Watching the national "beer summit" the other day when our President invited the Cambridge Police Officer and Harvard Professor to the White House Rose garden for an afternoon beer and snacks to discuss issues and try to calm the public down over this recent race furor made it very clear to me that you have a gaping hole in your execution.

While watching this historic event, I realized that the gentleman serving the frosty beverages lacked some common "service" must haves during his delivery of the product. Understanding that the pressures of being the man between the President and Vice President and their beer is probably one of the most stressful jobs under the administration, slightly above the guy holding the suitcase with the "codes" and below the guy that has Obama's cigarettes. So it isn't without any understanding of the pressure that I write to offer my services.

Why am I qualified?

First, its knowledge of the surroundings and comfort level. If you noticed, the plates of snacks were placed randomly making it uncomfortable for the President and Vice President to have unhindered access to the salty snack. They had to reach across the table at times crossing over a table guest to get that delectable little crunch. Then there were the glasses, everyone likes a frosty mug with their beer, but in a very warm summer day in DC, the frosty mug quickly becomes a water dripping mug. I'm sure the President wasn't heading up to help his kids with homework after the beer summit so to have ice water drippage all over his shirt and lap was probably not too presidential.

Those intangibles is what makes my qualifications a fit to be the official beer guy for the White House. My references include "Ted" whose real name has to be kept anonymous due to his current residence at an alcohol treatment center. "Ted" will attest that for more than 10 years, his glass was never less than half full and when the time came to celebrate, he never celebrated with a shot alone, I gave him three shots instead. Then there's Kathy who got a bit belligerent when she drank so instead of depriving her of her favorite outlet, I gave her a job behind the bar so she could continue to drink while being separated from sitting right next to the customers. Those are just a few examples of my problem solving skills.

Other skills I can offer the President in this role is the ability to correctly identify the type of beer, year it was brewed and which snack compliments it with one simple sip. This comes in handy if someone offers him a glass of beer without prior knowledge of the bottle or tap it came from. My tasting skills will be able to advise him on the type of beer it is and that first sip will also serve as a security measure to ensure that the beer was not tainted. Win win.

Additionally, topics such as North Korea, TARP and health care reform may not be the right topics over beer and chex mix. My uncanny knowledge of anything non-relevant can serve as an information resource to the commander. What would happen if the President encountered a TV sitcom conversation while enjoying his Blue Moon? Easy, the Facts of Life ran from 1979 - 1988 and was a spin off of the popular show Different Strokes.

So as you can see, the job of head beer server at the White House goes beyond the tray and coaster, but delves deep into cultural knowledge as well as the ability to think quickly given any situation. I liken it to the job the President has, some of his decisions are swift and must be dealt with to precise detail, if we were to run out of cashews the responsibility is on me to decide if we go with walnuts or pecans. A bad nut can be the downfall of the day.

I hope you find my expertise to your liking and I look forward to hearing from you and the chance to prove my value with such a major cog in the American machine.

Victor

The Winds of Change

My hibernation in recent months has led to a lot of gluttonous eating, bad TV and Internet shopping, noticeably omitted has been the mindless brain dumping of thoughts and metaphors that i've littered these pages with in recent months. So to the five people that read this, i apologize and promise to never leave you this lonely and void of silliness and my rambling bullshit ever again.

In the midst of a season change here in Boston, the sun feels a bit warmer to the touch and the wind feels a bit more soothing when it hits your face, that's a sign of summer or of things to change. Even the rain smells a bit different and not because its more polluted than normal, but there's a little hint of "this rain is okay because its the summer".

We often measure outcomes of our lives within these changes, days get longer so the season must've changed. We adjust by bringing out our summer clothes, we drink fruity cocktails because it reminds us of the islands and we clean our houses in hopes of a new sense of renewal.

Life also has a funny way of blowing its own winds of change. As the world paused this past week with the passing of Michael Jackson (no this is not a Michael Jackson tribute blog), the winds of change swept us and took away our feelings we had this time last year. So what i'm about to say will anger some, but the best thing is that no one really reads this so the hate mail will be limited, but let's put in perspective people.

I'm writing this listening to a shuffle of the 100 songs i have of Michael, blank screen in front of me and scuttling through the endless tweets and facebook messages of shock, memories and disbelief of his death. Last night the BET Awards changed their format to be a tribute of some sorts to him. The host,Jaime Foxx, said that they weren't going to be sad but to celebrate his life. This is the same man that had jokes in his routine about Michael and the past accusations of his child molestation. The winds of change can be cold sometimes.

Yes, i was one of the kids that stood in front of my TV in the 80's with a Member's Only red jacket and one winter glove (it was a mitten because i didn't have an actual glove) trying to simulate the moves, the squeals and the attitude. And I was the one of the many that wondered what he was thinking when he married Lisa Marie, speculated his career was over when he made the History Album, appalled when he was sued over allegations of child molestation and the same person that had him at the top of my list to see in concert before i die. I was a big fan. The winds were warm and soothing then.

Michael's father Joe Jackson said at the BET Awards that it was a shame the world didn't do this when he was alive. Well, it didn't happen because when he was alive, everyone still thought he was a freak. this is the same Joe Jackson that was accused by Michael of being physically and mentally abusive, now he's front row next to Beyonce and Jay Z. Is it me or shouldn't he be somewhere else, I mean his son did pass away only a few days ago, but i guess front row seats to see NeYo singing and the O'Jays receiving a lifetime achievement was too good to pass up.

We live in a world where the slightest change to a person is newsworthy. Last month no one wanted to know that he was making an album and trying to make a career come back. No one cared that 750,000 people bought tickets in two hours for his concert in Europe, they wanted something salacious. Something scandalous. The winds of change can alter perception sometimes. Let's not forget he paid off millions to the family he was accused of for child molestation. What about the dangling baby? In fact the hotel in Prague is a tour stop, seriously it is, you pay a tour guide money and he tells you the balcony where Michael held his baby over.

Prior to last week, no one said "I wonder what Ed McMahon is up to these days" or "remember that original episode of Charlie's Angels where Farrah kicked the terrorists ass wearing a halter top" or "I wonder if the pitchman for OxiClean, Billy Mays spends hours on his beard to keep it so tight" or "i'm going to listen to Michael all day". No, no, no and no. It took their death for us to honor them. It also took Michael's death to make us forget his fallacies. For the entire week, we all talked about our favorite Michael song (mine is Human Nature if you're wondering), the videos he did and his accomplishments as an artists. So if we are to celebrate his life as an entertainment icon, then that's fine, but to say that he was a complete person and truly missed, eh, not so sure. Missing someone is knowing that they will be there for you, that they will be around when you need them. When someone goes away, you miss them and can't wait for them to come back. Did we truly think that Michael was ever going to be the man we fell in love with on Thriller? What did we miss? He's had several albums since Thriller and none lived up to the past. In fact the most popular song DJs played when he was alive was ABC by the Jackson 5, no one played Black and White or They Don't Care About Us. So what are we gonna miss? The songs we fell in love with will always be there.

We love to glorify people in their demise. Kate Gosselin never made it on the cover of People until rumors that her husband cheated on her. Rihanna was never a cover story until her fight with Chris Brown. Miley Cyrus breaks up with a Jonas Brother = cover story. And every actress that gains 5 lbs is a magazine rack sell out if there's a photo of her in a bikini. Alicia Keys was honored at the BET Awards for her Save A Kid foundation work and Wyclef Jean for his work with Haiti - never a cover story about those efforts. Bono needs to meet with a world leader to get on a cover, but all Britney had to do was forget to put on underwear.

Forget that these were all celebrities that we only have a fraction of exposure into their lives. Most have never met them and only knew them through a public lens not a personal one. And here we are over the course of a few days watching endless hours of Tonight Shows with Ed, original Charlie's Angels and listening to Michael Marathons - shit i'm sure some people ordered Oxicleans and Awesome Augers in honor of Billy Mays. But this time last week - no one cared.

Kanye West said in his song "Big Brother"

"If you admire somebody, you should go ahead and tell 'em

People never get the flowers while they can still smell 'em"

Ironic isn't it? It took a change in the wind for us to appreciate things - perhaps a little too late. But the wind also made us forget why we didn't care to begin with. It would be heartless of us to chastise the dead, but seriously, if we were asked our opinion last month of Michael, most would bring up pedophile, surgeries, is he white or black or his animal collection, it's like if we asked about OJ now when he's alive, we would say murderer. But how quickly we forgive in the face of change. So maybe i just hold grudges, but we immortalize people at their death the day after we condemn them when they are alive. Yes, Michael's music was and will be a big part of my life, but everything else he did, had nothing to do with me. His impression was in the music which i will always have with me. But let's be honest, he was a savant that defied his time and expectations. He surpassed all levels of success whose talents can never be disputed. But in my mind for every person who has shed a tear this weekend for him, where were you when he was on trial, held the baby over the balcony, having all his plastic surgeries or living with a chimpanzee? Did you sympathize or laugh?

I'm not saying we need to be more critical or more forgiving. And not telling you to run to everyone you know and give them a hug and kiss and tell them you love them, that would be cupid overload, but i am asking that you prepare for the weather and realize that the wind can change at any second and depending on the type of wind you may be left cold or hit with a warm comforting breeze. Regardless, you never want to chase down the wind that just left you because you never had a chance to enjoy it while it was around.

Speaking is meant to be heard, so why not speak to someone when they can still hear you.

Life Lessons

Walking through a high school gym the other day I noticed all the photos of the sports teams on the wall, on the faces of all the freshman to seniors were hope, opportunity, intrigue and excitement. If they only knew what was waiting for them years later...

Life isn't about how prepared you are to deal with its demands but how you handle the outcome of how you dealt with it. It'd be too easy if we knew the answer to everything. As we get older we draw on our previous experiences to help us, but what about those kids in the photos at the High School that don't have enough history to draw on? They wing it. And most of the times it works.

What we've lost in our adult life is the ability to wing it. The adrenaline of saying "what the fuck" and just doing it for the sake of doing something. We are too careful. We calculate, prepare, weigh options and assess the risks. We rarely jump into the water any more without testing the temperature first. My brief list of life lessons that I've learned so far...

• It doesn't matter what animal it is or what part of the animal its from, if it looks good, eat it
• If it hurts, it's probably worth it
• Fanny packs are never in style, I don't care how much shit you have, no one should have a fanny pack
• Unless you're Batman or a construction worker, clipping anything to your belt is wrong
• If you scream "hit the ball" at a baseball game or "catch it" at a football game, there's a high likelihood that the player never heard you, so don't scream it. The same absurdity applies if you're at home screaming into the TV set
• Phone calls or texts after midnight results in nothing productive or good and more than likely ends up in embarrassment, so set up the booty call by 10 pm at the latest
• Guys, if I can see that you have .65 cents in your pocket and the year on each coin, your jeans are too tight
• Defend your beliefs with a firm hand and other people will stop setting them for you
• You're never too old to sleep with a stuffed animal, just hide it when company comes
• Do the little things
• Remember the day you met her, her shoe and ring size, all the quirky stories you've shared and never never never ever forget those moments
• No peace signs when taking a photo, you're not a Japanese tourist
• Revive the lost art of letter writing and hand written notes, there's something special to that
• Sometimes a movie at home with a bad bottle of wine is more memorable than an extravagant night out
• Don't stalk on Facebook, it's so much more fun if you are outside their house with binoculars
• On a plane in a row of three seats there are six elbows fighting for five arm rests, claim your territory with vigilance and authority, even if you have to pee, don't, you will lose your coveted arm rest and stuck with the elbow tucked by your chest for the rest of the flight while the arm rest bandit mocks you with his newly claimed prize
• Get over it, sometimes she's just not that into you

And when all else fails, just say fuck it and do it anyways.

Boundless

Everything has some kind of wall or preventative control factor. We live in a world of standards and process, of being in control and having all the control. We freak out when this control is lost or the order of what we think is right goes awry. We like boundaries.

At some point, you have to look at these boundaries in a different lens. Is this proverbial grey area holding people out or keeping me in? If you look at your boundaries you'll realize you set them so you can have control, so you can prevent others from changing your natural order of things. Because chaos is the fear that keeps those walls up. So we create them to fence us in.

Life is a box of chocolates...In fact its the annoying sampler box that no one really likes and is always regifted. It doesn't have the chart on what each candy is and after a few days all the chocolates are still left in the box but with slight holes and tears from people trying to find a flavor they like. It becomes a mess, a failure. So we set the boundaries. We build lines because life is messy. That's how we are made.

Kids hide under their blankets at night pretending there's a magical forcefield that protects them from the monsters. As long as no skin is exposed, the monster can't get to them. They tug all corners of the blanket to ensure full coverage, they set the perimeters to lock them under. They set their boundary of protection, of security. As adults we carry the same blanket as we did as a kid. We throw this blanket on when we suspect that a monster is after us. Whether it is a work security blanket that prevents us from taking that risk or a personal security blanket that tells you that emotionally its right but fundamentally its wrong. We throw this blanket over us and set our boundary to keep us in but not to face what's on the outside.

And at the end of the day we all claim that our boundaries really aren't boundaries at all. We hide behind the lines and scream that there are no lines. Now isn't that a funny thing? When our own boundaries turn up not what we expect we just blame it on faith. It's like one day you realize that the fairy tale may be just a bit off than how you envisioned. The big castle in the sky, well, it may not be a castle at all. And the happy ever after, just that its happy right now. You see, every now and then we get a curve thrown at us and instead of fighting the change or complaining that it isn't what we expected or hoped it'd be we should see it for what it is. Because once in a while, people will surprise you, and once in a while people may even take your breath away. And isn't that something you don't want to set a boundary for?

Maybe we like the walls and the pain we get when these walls hold us back? Maybe we're wired for it. Because without it, I don't know, maybe we just wouldn't feel real. There's a saying that goes "Why do I keep hitting myself with a hammer? Because it feels so good when I stop."

So before we build more lines and walls, lets think about the things we want to keep inside and trapped with us. If we do, then we may realize there are more lines worth crossing and more walls worth tearing down than is necessary. And those monsters we hide under the blanket from...expose yourself to them and you'll realize those monsters aren't so scary afterall.

All The Little Things

We are material people living in a material world. The type of car you drive, the name of the jeans on your ass, the tag that screams "I was very expensive and the world needs to acknowledge it" or the color of your headphones. Face it, we love to have people recognize things we have.

In fact, even packaging has gone materialistic. You know what the baby blue box with white ribbon is from or the deep red box, it screams the name and before she opens it up she already is filled with emotion and screaming. The box! That's all it took.

What ever happened to all the little things? What ever happened to the thought that counts? We've lost the art of letter writing, in fact I'm living proof right now while writing this that even I have forgotten about the little things. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone? Our worlds are built on speed to respond and less words. You can probably type in C U Latr better than See You Later. What happened to the days of calling someone and talking to them on the phone. Our mouths are in our finger tips now. We've lost the sensitivity of speech and the power our voice has and replaced with the tone of a keypad as our oratory means.

The little things...

It's the smile you get when you don't ask or deserve it. It's the note that remembers a specific date that has escaped your mind. It's the purposeful act of dressing a certain way because she knows you like it. It's the midday hello in a day that never ends. It's the song list that says "I was thinking about you". It's the looking forward to the next time.

It's easy for someone to walk into a store and drop a lot of money on something that may elicit a scream, a hug and even something more. But that feeling will leave and the remnants of the gift will only be remembered as a message of materialism. But the thought it took for the little things will last forever.

Some will argue that getting an iphone loaded with all their favorite songs and movies on it is a sweet gift, I will argue that getting the lyrics to a song that reminds them of you is inspiring, because no one will think of that person every time they turn the iphone on, but they will every time they hear that song.

Think about someone you're with or like, think about how many little things you know about them, the small things that may seem irrelevant. Then do something that shows that you remembered them. Then you'll see what I mean. Because isn't it a bunch of little things that add up to a big thing?

At the moment of truth

I've read that at the moment of an accident the most common phrase said is "oh shit". Think about it, if something suddenly falls on you, someone scares you, you trip, anything that disturbs your natural intention?

Kind've sad when you think about it. I would like to think that if I was about to face certain death, the last things out of my mouth wouldn't be "oh shit", there are so many other things that I would like to say or scream, but our natural reaction is to react to the immediate.

But what if you knew about the impending "oh shit" moment? What would you say? Or what if you knew that someone was about to go through that moment, what would you say to them?

We all live through life saying what is necessary to get by. If someone is mad, we say what we can to lighten up the anger and when we hit a boiling point we often ask "tell me what you want me to say and I'll say it". We know what we need to say but want that argument to end so fast that we succumb to telling them what they want to hear.

A very dear friend passed away this weekend. Our relationship hit every corner of the grid. Like with many friendships that get closer, we also became closer. At one point she used the often said and seldom true phrase - soulmates. For a few years we thought we had it all, we travelled, we laughed, we cried and we even dreamed about a tomorrow together. Then it started to unravel. We tried to make it work, we pushed the boulder up the mountain because we thought we could. We ignored the obviously signs and issues. We let the flame burn out.

For close to a year we played a vicious game of "I'm not gonna call you". With each other we erased the idea of the other, but to our friends we could never stop speaking of the other.

"The song came and went

Like the times we spent

Hiding out from the rain

Under the carnival tent

I laughed and she smiled

It would last for a while

You don't know what you got

Til you lose it all again"

She was coming home. We started talking again. We never could stop talking. The conversation picked up exactly where it left off. The dreams were fresh and new as if they were just put on pause and reassumed playing.

She wanted to start over. She wanted to prove that this time could work. She was the next state over and forced the issue to get together. Tidal waves of emotions set in. Could it be what we dreamt it to be? Or would it just be a band aid to what will never be fixed?

"Don't you worry about the distance

I'm right there if you get lonely

Give this song another listen

Close your eyes

Listen to my voice its my disguise"

Plans were made to see each other and each plan was changed. She wanted to spend her birtday with me in Boston (Jan 17), she wanted to come up for Valentines Day, more and more dates were set, none were fulfilled.

Then last weekend it happened. The "oh shit" moment.

Erin Fay was in a tragic car accident.

I was by her bedside in the last few days after the accident and finally said the things that she's always wanted to hear. Finally came to truths to the good and bad about what we had. But if we had only said this to each other years ago when it was more relevant.

"You’re in my arms

And all the world is calm

The music playing on for only two

So close together

And when I’m with you

So close to feeling alive

A life goes by

Romantic dreams will stop

So I bid mine goodbye and never knew

So close was waiting, waiting here with you

And now forever I know

All that I wanted to hold you

So close

So close to reaching that famous happy ending

Almost believing this was not pretend

And now you’re beside me and look how far we’ve come

So far we are so close

How could I face the faceless days

If I should lose you now?

We’re so close

To reaching that famous happy ending

Almost believing this was not pretend

Let’s go on dreaming for we know we are

So close

So close

And still so far...................."

Erin, today your friends and family will say goodbye and I love you another time, some will say it for the last time. They will remember your spirit, laughter and life. For years I was there for you when you needed me, for comfort, for a shoulder, for the hug that made you feel so secure.

So before I say good bye one more time, before this moment of truth, I don't want to say "oh shit". I want you to know that your wind and light found a way to breakthrough the most fortified of defenses...me. And now that your light flickers on and off, know that you did everything the way you wanted to. You were you. No compromise, no fault, no regrets.

Now its your turn to watch over me, to be there in my times of weakness, to help me up when I fall, to kick me when I need motivation, to walk next to me to avoid having a lonely shadow.

"And I will take with me the memories

To be the sunshine after the rain

It's so hard to say goodbye to yesterday"

At this moment of truth....I've said the things that should've been said.

When the wind blows

Sometimes when the wind blows we curl up to avoid its bitterness as it cuts through our bodies and sends shivers throughout. Sometimes when the wind blows we do a side step dance to avoid the trashblowing towards us. Sometimes when the wind blows we close our eyes and let the breeze consume us like a fine sip of wine as it lifts everything we have and takes our pain away.

Sometimes when the wind blows it pushes someone into your life when you least expect it, you're not sure if you should curl up and avoid this person, side step to avoid them or close your eyes and hope they walk away.

Someone blew into my life about six years ago, it wasn't on purpose, by accident or by chance. I didn't close my eyes, side step or curl up. Just let it hit me. Sometimes it hit me like a runaway boulder with no remorse on what path its going to take but just knows that it's going through you if you get in its way. Sometimes it hit me like warm sprinkle in midst of an oasisless heat wave.

Without any warning, this wind blew right through me and blew away. It left a stillness in the air that was without any sign of life or presence. I barely had time to prepare for the wind, it came and it left. I couldn't chase it down and it went by so fast I barely had time to enjoy it. I remembered being cold, being hurt and wanting nothing to do with the wind, I put on more clothes to prevent it from cutting through me, I turned my back to it, I hid indoors...

This wind stopped blowing today. Unexpectedly it ended. She lived her life as strong as the gust that preceeded her. She was strong, independent, powerful yet at times soothing. There's a stillness now after she's gone, eventually we will all feel the breeze again and reminice about the time when...

Erin, you were never swept by the wind, you were the wind, you blew through people and places and took a piece of everything you encountered. You left me cold at times and warm on others. At the end, after you've blown away, you left me wondering what happens when the wind blows. It was too soon, Erin, but you're wind is blowing through in a better place. You will be missed.

To be fine in 09

Endless lists of resolutions, promises, bets and reasons to be a better person this year. Why do we need a date to motivate us to be better, healthier, smarter, more sensitive, less angry, or just different? So in the middle of July I'm less likely to quit smoking than on Jan 1?

I want to start a movement this year, it's the "i'm fine in 09" tag. Forget the resolutions, forget the need to quit smoking, work out more, wake up early, stop swearing, no more chocolate at 2 AM, the five drink maximum, the one night stands without knowing her name or porn that has farm animals in it. Anytime the urge comes across where you feel you need to quit or do something to better yourself, you just say "I'm fine in 09".

Okay, in full disclosure, I have to admit that I chose to give up smoking on New Year's Eve. Not as a resolution or because of the new year, but because I started smoking for all the wrong reasons and quitting was more of a metaphorical release of demons than the actual cancerous ones. So prior to midnight, I wasn't snuggled up to someone pretty who was all dressed up and waiting for the kiss of the year, don't get me wrong if someone was pretty enough and dressed up and waiting for the kiss of the year from me I wouldn't have been outside chain smoking as if it was my last cigarette.

Actually it was my last cigarette. Outside of it being New Years Eve, it was also my birthday, so the non-sensical reasons were all too strong for me to quit. I bought a fresh pack earlier that night with full intentions to inhale all of them by midnight. That's one pack in a matter of four hours. I prepared my lungs earlier in the day by trying to run a few miles and working out, midway between getting my shorts on and Ipod songs lined up I realized that I haven't checked my mail in a few days, so before I headed out to the gym I took a short walk to the mailbox, well since I was that close to the front door, why not have a cigarette. Here I was in 20 degree weather outside my building with gym shorts and a sweatshirt on, but as smokers are all to familiar with, the cold, wind or snow was no match for each puff that ended in the obligatory flash of faintness. Ahh, the feeling. It was so good, I had another.

After two cigarettes in freezing weather, I sat on the couch to warm up before my planned lung exercises. The warming up became lying down and quickly ended up being a three hour nap.

The faint screams of Happy New Year echoed throughout the city and from apt buildings, looking into the bar I saw happy faces, long kisses and embraces that should've been filmed in slow motion with an Air Supply love song played in the background - or maybe filmed as a dream sequence? But there I was, outside, to say I was alone wouldn't be accurate. Yes, I didn't have a person with me, but I had my vice, my outlet and on occasions, my reason for being - it was me and my Marlboro Lights. The kisses stopped, the Happy New Year screams were now fewer and far between, the funny hats were taken off and the reality of a new year set in.

I got home around 2:30 AM, no late night calls or texts to friends (another vice I need to give up), no foraging for food, no night cap, just me standing over my sink with a half pack of cigarettes. I filled the box up with water and flushed the cigarettes down the disposal.

I went to bed whispering - "I'm fine in 09".