Bon Apetit

We saw a heron eat a fish on the beach one day last week. He ate it whole, like a snake eats a rat. That's just not right. I guess he got the nourishment he needed, but a fresh seafood dinner should be savored.

Who do I have to call to right this wrong? Let's get this heron some dentures and a bib so he can enjoy his next feast. Marion - please call Eleanor; maybe she has some D.C. connections with Mother Nature.

I want to throw a dinner party for this heron, but I'll need some help.

Amy, you live on the glamorous west coast; invite some stars to join us. See if Lawrence FISHburne is available.

Julie, you have royalty in your family; see if the Prince of WHALES can join us.

Sara, will you coordinate games and entertainment? I'm thinking sCRABble while we dance to music from SEAL and Hootie and the BlowFISH.

Geeg, please plan on providing your famous TUNA casserole.

Holy MACKERAL, this is going to be fun!

Anybody got any ideas? Don't CLAM up on me now!

Welcome Home

We came home from our Canadian vacation on a Sunday afternoon, several weeks ago. Kirk was outside with the boys, playing and doing chores.. When we got out of our car, Miles ran to me with a huge smile on his face, and jumped into my arms.

I didn't write about it before, because I thought perhaps this "spontaneous" welcoming had been orchestrated. If it was, I didn't want to know. It was a glorious treat to come home to!

We came home from Florida just a few days ago, early in the evening. Landon was awake in his crib. He was happy to see us, but he played it cool. It was time for bed.

Miles was already sleeping.

We arranged for Julie and Kirk to go exercise early the next morning. They wouldn't see Miles before Miles saw us; there would be no orchestration this time.

I was at our dining room table when Miles came down the next morning, sleepy eyed. He didn't run to me, but he did walk pretty fast. The grin wasn't particularly wide or enthusiastic, but it was there, and hey, he just woke up.

He gave me a big hug.

I love being in Florida; I'm a sun and beach type of guy. But, nobody cares if I come or go.

This is home, and I'm glad to be back.

Bless Me Father

I often reflect on my good fortune; my luck, my blessings. A recent peaceful walk on the beach provided the revelation that Geeg often prays for me; prays that my faith in God and church will grow. I believe her prayers have been answered.


I do have faith, though admittedly it is restricted by what I consider common sense and free will.


I did not even attend the baptism of my first borns, but now I willingly enter the house of the Lord on a more than regular basis, to reflect on ........well most of the time my blessings, but my mind does tend to wander.


(I still can't figure out who is going to play third base for the Giants next year. That lady in the first row reminds me of that stuck up old bitty from "The Andy Griffith Show." I wonder what Miles and Landon are doing now. That shirt I bought for a dollar at the thrift store sure has a huge collar. The Giants can't trade Matt Cain! What's for dinner?)


But when I am most attentive; when I am benefiting most from the experience of mass, I am counting my blessings.
And then I recall some of my favorite song lyrics.


When it comes to luck, blessings, I am reminded, by Eric Clapton, that:


It's in the way that you use it,
It comes an it goes.
So don't you ever abuse it.
Don't let it go.


So run with the guitar riff of "Slowhands" and shout with joy when the blaring trumpet announces the joy that is ours!

To be fair, mass is not a completely joyous ceremony. We are reminded of sorrow. And then I think of Joe Cocker painfully expressing the fact that:

Everybody hurts sometimes. Everybody cries.
When the day is long and the night, the night is yours alone, When you’re sure you’ve had enough of this life, well hang on. Don’t let yourself go, everybody cries and everybody hurts sometimes.

Still, the true message of the church is hope. No lyrical blog of mine would be complete without encouraging everyone to heed the following Bob Dylan suggestion:

May god bless and keep you always, May your wishes all come true, May you always do for others And let others do for you. May you build a ladder to the stars And climb on every rung, May you stay forever young.

And so it goes..............

My Backyard

Do you kids remember my dolphin friend Adolph? (Did you get the joke; a DOLPHin named aDOLPH? Ha! How many of you thought it was a sick 'Hitler' reference?) Well, word got 'round the beach that we were back in town, so Adolph stopped by. He was obviously excited to see us.






(Sorry for the shaky camera work. I guess I was excited to see him too.)


The couple in the ocean is a very well disguised Martha St*wa*t, and her male servant, Paco.


Just like Greta Garbo, we just wanted to be left alone, but they insisted we join them for martinis, extra dry. (Geeg had a sombrero, ignoring political correctness, considering Paco's Mexican descent.)


We regaled them with stories of our Canadian adventure. Martha tantalized us with tales of prison life. (It's shocking what one has to do to get pimentos in the big house.)

State of the Union - Living on the Edge, continued

The stock market is kicking the crap out of my investment plan. Concessions have been made. I went to a thrift store recently, looking for a pair of sandals. I left mine at my other home. (I pause here to preface the rest of my comments, noting that finances cannot be all that bad as long as I am referring to multiple dwellings.)

I found a terrific pair of sandals. They were only $2.99. Perfect for the beach, plus they fulfilled my desire for danger, submitting me to the possible perils of contracting athlete's foot from another man's shoes.

Still, I passed, reluctantly ackowledging that I have a perfectly good pair of blue boat shoes that I rarely wear since Leslie made fun of them 4 years ago. Concessions have been made.

We had "take out" pizza last night. No toppings. Admittedly, it was a white pizza. We paid extra for that, but, hey,, you gotta eat.
I didn't pay $500 to go to a Rays-RedSox play off game.
I didn't get a navigation system in my brand spankin' new 2009 Prius.

(Readers beware: there is in epidemic of car buying spreading thru this family.)

The "Sisters of Perpetual Hope for the Lost Souls of Devil Worshipers and Hockey Moms" may have to wait a while for their next donation from me, but I'm not asking for a telethon yet either. Let's not confuse my investment plan with my retirement plan, which is to never work full time again until Yankee Stadium is entombed in ice; evidence that hell hath frozen over.

What's next? I'm not a doctor, I don't even play one on tv, but I've got patients. (patience)

I'll ride the stormy waves of wall street as long as I can float in the gentle waves of the Gulf of Mexico. There is no charge to go to the beach.

And I still don't even know what cat food tastes like.

Denial. The breakfast of champions.
Denial. It's what for dinner.

Denial. It's a beautiful thing.

(Hey, 3 denials worked out okay for Peter...)

Hi Miles!

Miles called me yesterday.

He told me that Olivia was coming over and they were going to have noodles for dinner and peanut butter cups for dessert. Landon took a nap. Miles tried, but he couldn't.

I asked Miles if he saw the dolphin video I sent him. He said he did. He also said he saw 2 squirrels in has back yard. He wasn't sure which was more exciting.

I told Miles I was at the beach. He wanted to know if there were waves. "No," I said, " the water is very calm today."

"I know," said Miles, "because I can't hear them."

Miles wanted to know where I was sitting. I told him I was near the back of the beach, where we flew his kite.

I told Miles I ws surprised by how well he hit the ball the last time we played. I asked him who taught him to hold the bat up high. "I don't know, I just learned," he said.

After about 8 minutes of small (literally) talk, Miles asked me if I wanted to talk to Landon or Mommy. I chose Landon.

Landon, with some coaching from Mommy, also told me that 'livia was coming and they were going to have noodles and peanut butter cups. He took a nap.

Then I spoke to Mommy. She told me that Miles called because he missed me.

If you think this is pretty boring stuff, please re-read the first line. That's all that matters.

Two boys, two joys...................................