Cafe Leone

Below is a list of things I don’t know, but should know, and am embarrassed that I don’t know. These aren’t the typical joke imponderables like: “If people from Poland are called Poles, why aren’t people from Holland called Holes?” I didn’t make that one up but I KNOW that I made this imponderable up: “If Harry is short for Harold and Larry is short for Lawrence, why isn’t Barry short for Barold or Bawrence?” No, these are true imponderables that I feel like very ignorant that I don’t know.

• I still have no idea what the difference is between affect and effect - This haunts me like you will never know, because I consider myself someone who has a grasp on the mechanics of writing (imagine if I had something to say!). I have looked it up a billion times and I still need to whenever I want to know. I spend way too much time avoiding using those words so as to not have to deal with it.
• I don’t know the difference between a swan and a goose it - I was very excited to be running on the Charles River this morning when I saw approximately 30 white birds sleeping along the banks of the river. I wanted to write about them because I never knew Boston had so many of them. The other reason this bothers me is a consider myself a reasonably astute observers of birds in my backyard and am very proud that I can tell a starling from a cardinal from a catbird (catbird - isn’t that such a self-destructive name?).
• I don’t know if biannual means once every two years or twice every year. For that matter, the same goes for a bimonthly magazine subscription . Is it twice a month or once every two months?
• I don’t know, usually in movies, the waitress needs to lick her pencil - What does it accomplish?
• I don’t know what the active voice or passive voice is -Whenever I read about how to write (a good technique to avoid writing) I inevitably read that I should be using the active voice and not the passive voice. They will even show examples. I still don’t get it.
• I don’t know why that mnemonic that we all have in our heads on which months have 30 days and which have 31 works. I remember it, but the rhyme works even if you just make up the months. “30 days, hath September, April, June, November. All the rest…..” sounds just as right as “30 days hath October, May, July, December. All the rest….”
• Until someone proves me wrong, it is my strongly held opinion that the job of a vacuum cleaner is to simply throw the dust around into the air until it settles days later and it is time to vacuum again. So, I guess I don’t understand vacuums. Don’t tell me to look at the bag to tell it is actually sucking dirt up. That is too easy.
• I don’t understand musical scales - I love classical music and when I hear that something is in the key of G, they might as well tell me that it is in the key of TUFDKFLD because it means the same thing. the problem, again, is that I read about these things ALL the time.
• I really don’t know how to gamble - I am going to Vegas for work two times in the next two months. I have been 5 times before and I have NEVER EVER placed a dime, chip or my elbows at one of those tables. Don’t get me started on Sports Betting. I have never done it. I don’t know what over-unders, spreads or odds are. I don’t join the pools at work for that reason.
• I STILL don’t understand interest rates or finance charges on my credit cards - I am fairly cautious with my money, but I don’t get those things. I just assume the smaller the number, the better.
• I really don’t know how to spit or whistle - I thought about that on my run today. I saw a runner pass me and directed a perfectly, almost biblical, wad of whatever he could dig up in his sinuses, at the side of the road. I almost weeped at how beautiful it was because if I attempted the same thing, I would have ended up spraying a feeble mist back onto myself. Don’t get me started on whistling. The most sexist comment you will hear me make is that I believe women should never whistle. The ALWAYS screw it up and whistle on both the inhale and the exhale…never mind that it looks ugly. Well, I must be a woman then because I look and sound exactly the same. And please don’t ask me to do that two finger whistle thing; you might as well ask me to speak Chinese.
• I call myself Italian, but only my dad is from Italy. My mom is from Uruguay South America. To this day, I don’t know the difference between Latino and Hispanic. Nor do I know if I qualify as one of them.
• I can’t golf - When I was growing up, my friend and his dad were going golfing and I asked if I could come. His dad looked at me and said that left-handed people can’t golf because they don’t make clubs for them. I TOTALLY believed that for the next 20 years! Now, I sometimes wish I did and then I realize it is something I don’t need to spend money on. I have other vices, like heroin. Joking, of course.

I guess that is it for now.

So, in conclusion, TAG YOU ARE ALL IT!

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Dear John Doe:

It has been 10 years since I saw you lying under that bridge in South Boston but the image has never left me. We found your stiff body, almost peacefully resigned to its fate lying frozen under a welcome mat; a feeble, and ultimately futile attempt at keeping warm. Your Stop and Shop carriage was filled with bags of cans and bottles and a dirty lace-less pair of ladies sneakers were placed in the part of the carriage a child would sit in. the heels were crushed like a pair of bathroom slippers. The biggest surprise came when we saw the Greatest Hits of Barry Manilow album at the bottom under the bags. We all laughed while wondering what that was for. I apologize for laughing but that is just what rescue people are supposed do when faced with death and suffering. It was nothing against you. It was a way for us to distance ourselves from that which we see every single day. We all pretend to be tough guys, but I don’t mind telling you that I shed a few tears in my life.

The dead giveaway was the empty bottle of Listerine lying next to you. My partner, who was a recovering alcoholic himself, says that when you are a prisoner to alcohol, you get it anyway you can. From toothpaste to cough syrup to vanilla extract. I guess they don’t teach you that in EMT school.

Did that bottle make the pain of freezing to death go away? Was living so bad that death was so good? Or did that bottle make you so stupid drunk that you didn’t even know you were dying?

Despite the flashing blue and red and orange lights dancing and painting the walls, no one on the bridge above us even slowed down to see what was happening. This is the city after all. If no one stopped in your death, I wonder if anyone stopped when you were alive. Did anyone care? Did you ever care for anyone else? Tell me what brings a person to the point where they find refuge in the muddy crotch of a bridge where the scent of rodent feces blends with the stench of skin unbathed. Tell me where you were in your mind that a quart of mouthwash tastes better than a warm cup of coffee.

You and I have more in common than you realize. Both of us were once innocent boys. I bet you are close to my age. Neither of us knew what direction the wave of life would take us. But we rode it anyway, and somehow we ended with me in a brown polyester uniform looking down upon you, a frozen man unable to ride the wave any longer.

A million questions and the only one that matters most to me is, just how small is the distance between the path your life took and the path any one of us are taking? How far am I from you, Mr John Doe?

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Please do not roll your eyes at the fact that this is a political post. I understand that the only people that read political blogs are those that have a political blog already. This is not that type of post. I will flat out tell you that my politics are very liberal, but nothing in my life is etched in stone and I am ALWAYS open to different ways of looking at issues. I am definitely not so eloquent as to be able to defend all my positions but if you have anything to offer as a valid argument opposed to my opinions, then please feel free to tell me. I will post any opposing views as I know I am not the Keeper of the Truth. The only thing I ask is that you are civil with your comments. I am in control of so little in my life and cafeleone.net is one of those things. So, nothing would thrill me more greatly than to hit delete on any comment I think is offensive and doesn’t help the cause any. I really want to be a “nice guy” on the internet. I want people to see me as genuine and open. The problem is that I am an atheist and a liberal and that occasionally leaves me wide open for angry comments. Sorry, that I am being defensive.

OK, back to the point of this post: I just finished Al Gore’s latest book, The Assault on Reason. I am certain I read somewhere that this book was touted as relevant for all people “no matter what side of the political spectrum you fall in.” That is rubbish, of course. This book does not hesitate to attack the current administration for its continued failures on its policies in Iraq and other issues. If you are a supporter of George Bush and the direction he is taking America, then obviously this book is not for you. You will learn nothing and the point of the book will be lost. The flip side of this is that Gore is preaching to the choir for most of the people reading it.

This fact is fine because this book is not about Bush’s failures. This book is about the slow diminishing of rational public discourse in America. Essentially what this means is that we have lost the ability to rationally debate the issues and that the opinions of the people matter less than the opinion of those in power. Those in power will do whatever they need to do to consolidate their control over the opinions of others including, as Noam Chomsky puts it, “Manufacturing Consent;” essentially, making people believe what those in power want them to believe.

My opinion is that Gore does an effective job at presenting his case. I have a few problems where I don’t trust some of the physiology of the brain that allows people to become malleable in their opinions and Gore seems like he has figured out his way around quotations.com website because his writing is interspersed with many quotes that at times seem contrived. These are just my feelings as I am not even sure that “opinion” is the appropriate word for it.

The really nice thing is that Gore gives props to the blogging community specifically and the internet in general. He states that blogging is a great “point of entry” for the average citizen to express and, more importantly, share their opinions with others and to form communities of people with similar views.

So, here is my proposal, if BoMR (Both of My Readers) will allow. Occasionally, I want to post a relevant issue on my blog, provide some links that can express the issue better than I and just put it out there to get your thoughts on it. Any issue from Bush, Hillary, Iraq, the world’s view of America, immigration, the marriage of politics and religion, whatever seems relevant. I am not smart enough to discuss world politics as I barely understand U.S politics, but I would LOVE to hear what others from around the world have to say, if anything.

By doing this, I hope we too can have a small public forum where different opinions can be expressed. At 7 hits a day, 5 from me, I bet this could really take off.

Don’t worry, I will still write about the Baby Goats and other nothings that keep you both coming back for more!

What do both of you think?

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I know this is a depressing topic, but it is what is on my mind. Unfortunately, being an insomniac, makes me wake up at all hours and allows me to start my day way too early. Of course, I will crash just before having to leave for work. Healthy.

I am actually typing this blog outside under my father’s grape arbor. It is dark and relatively quiet. I know, but cannot prove, that there is a raccoon watching me not 20 feet away so I am beginning to get nervous. I live on a typical busy residential street in Boston so I hear the occaisional delivery truck roar by and am instantly awed at how my kids ever learned to sleep at all here.

It is one billion degrees with a humidity of wet and the clouds are sitting on me. I wish the stars were out. The only advantage to being awake at odd hours is that I get to look at the stars, both of them. I LOVE astronomy. I used to pride myself on remembering the constellations and the mythology of their names. Now, I am lucky to remember the names of about 6 constellations. I could point out individual stars and name them and awe no one with a description of their size or distance. I used to be able to speak in terms of light years and solar systems. I am really good at the “used to be’s.” In fact, the older I get, the better I used to be. My son and I enjoy an occaisional night out where I point out some of the obvious constellations such as Orion, Ursa Major and Minor and my favorite constellation (whatever that means), Scorpio. Scorpio is best viewed in the Summer months and early in the morning. The heart of Scorpio is the giant red star, Antares. It is the absolutely enormous and the first astronomy fact that I ever learned growing up was that if you brought Antares here, it would easily swallow our sun, and the orbits of all the inner planets (up to Mars)! If our sun were the size of the period at the end of this sentence, Antares would be roughly the size of a large softball. I can point it out in a matter of seconds in the sky. I cannot tell you how often that star has guided me on my early morning runs. I don’t believe in astrology any more than I believe in the boogey man, but the reputation of Scorpios of being passionate must have something to do with that giant red heart, Antares.

[OK, now I am inside as whatever pair of eyes that were staring at me took on a haunted glow]

As I sit here I am thinking of an image I recently witnessed with my parents. As far as I am concerned, my parents are immortal. At least that is what I believed until recently. My mom, who is only in her 60s has had trouble with her knees lately. She has arthritis and they swell up causing terrific pain. She works behind a deli counter at one of the local supermarkets which cannot help her knees any. My parents live in the upstairs apartment and as I was leaving for work, she was coming down the stairs. But the sound of her steps were different than the usual sound. I looked up and noticed that she has taken to coming down the stairs backwards, one step at a time. She told me it was easier on her knees.

When I went to visit her that same day, I noticed that the couch in the TV room was physically higher off the ground. It turns out that since she was having issues getting off the couch, my father placed these raisers under each leg. This is making it easier for my mom to lift herself.

So here I am, faced with something I have never had to deal with; the slow drum beat of time as we begin accommodating our physical degradation. When we are younger, we fight that process. We work out harder, scramble to eat better and schmear creams on our face to “defy aging.” But at some point, in our 60s, 70s, 80 or later, we can no longer fight. We resolve ourselves to our fate and the best we can hope for is to accommodate the dying process. We try to make it more comfortable as we tuck ourselves in before our really, really long sleep.

I am reaching out to BoMR (Both of My Readers). How do you handle this? Are your parents still alive? How do you face the reality that your parents are mortal? Do you embrace it, accept it, ignore it or try to help fight it? Is part of it the fact that you see yourself in your parents?

As always, I am eternally grateful all your wonderful, thoughtful comments.

Have fun…Time to go to bed now!

Dan

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One day a baby polar bear waddled over and asked his Mama, ” Mama, have I always been a polar bear ” ? Mama replied, why yes my dear. Your Papa is a polar bear, I am a polar bear. That makes you a polar bear my son. The baby polar bear waddled away with a confused look on his face.

The next week baby polar bear was dropped off at his grandparents for the day. Baby bear asked his Grandpa….. “Grandpa, am I a real polar bear”? Grandpa answered forcefully telling the young bear that he was born of a great legacy of polar bears tracing back more than 400 years.

Once again the baby polar bear waddled away with a troubled mind.

The next month was the “Grand” Polar Bear Reunion. Baby bear was very excited. Finally, he would find the answer to his question. After much searching baby bear found his Great, Great grandfather nestled down in a nice lounge chair. Baby bear approached and gingerly asked his great, great grandpa the same questions.

Great, Grandpapa…. am a real Polar Bear? Have I always been a polar bear? Great, Great Grandpa smiled upon the little bear. Why yes my son, you come from a long line of Polar Bears, you are from a long line of true polar bears…. all have sprung from my loins and bear some likeness to me. Why do you ask such questions my lad? Baby bear looked up quite confused and said.

BECAUSE I AM FUCKING FREEZING!

So tell me your favorite joke. (thanks to http://redheadhasspoken.blogspot.com/ for calling to to my attention that I hadn’t asked and for offering her own!)

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Because it is 2AM and I am lying here awake after only 2 hours of sleep, I have a question to ask BoMR (Both of My Readers):

Have you ever written a post that you were so happy with that you simply let it linger at the top of your blog for as long as possible just to give a chance that all your fans will read it? In other words, have you ever intentionally delayed writing a post because you were so proud of your current post?

For example, I wrote something once about an event that happened to me while working on the ambulance. It touched me deeply and the post really brought back a lot of memories. I really loved the feelings of the post and was proud of it and thought that others might find something useful in it. Then the very next day, one of my Baby Goats said something witty that I wanted to share. BUT, I decided to postpone the post because I did not want anything to detract from the deeper, meaningful post of the day before.

We all know that a big percentage of our readers stumble upon our site as part of the 30 second visits forced upon them at BlogExplosion, et al. In order to get hits on their site, they rapidly crank out visits to others’ sites. If these people look beyond the banner, I am surprised. But if your first post is a winner, then perhaps you have given them reason to stay and read on. If I replaced my Pulizter Prize winning post with a story about my 3 year old pooping into her hand, then perhaps my blog would have been dismissed as a “daddy blog” which is almost as bad as a “cat blog” or a “crocheting blog.”

Do you write to write or are you a more “strategic writer” and consider others?

(I am not going to proof-read this post because I am starting to fall asleep again)

Goodnight Moon

Dan

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Someone I know, who is a devout Christian, and I were having a conversation about something. I made a rather flip comment that I had sold my soul to the devil many times in my life. I said this about something I no longer remember. She stopped, looked at me and said quite calmly: “that’s OK, because you can only go to hell once.”

That was one of the most profound things I ever heard! Now it really doesn’t matter to me since I  believe in neither god nor the devil, but it doesn’t change how funny the statement was.

I feel it might be time to sell my soul once again….

atheism, funny, quote | 3 Comments »

I was thinking lately about blogging and the Dan that blogs. I had been assuming that I blog because I need this chance to express my “true” Dan-ness. Then I thought about the fact that nearly all of the people that I know at work, home and friends have no idea that I blog and would be shocked to hear about some of the things I had to say. I don’t mean shocked like I had anything profound to say, but shocked that I could complete a coherent thought. At home, I am the short-tempered, sarcastic dad that spends more time screeching at the top of my lungs than imparting words of wisdom to my baby goats. At work, I am the rather sarcastic and boring, geek wannabe that thinks too long before speaking to the annoyance of everyone I work with. To my friends, I am the guy that uses sarcasm to get laughs despite that the laughs are of the uncomfortable variety. But on my blog, I want to present an air of sarcastic sophistication with a hint of nice guy thrown in. Am I (E) all of the above or is there a real me that has escaped detection for 42 years?

Where do the public you and the private you meet and where do they diverge?

blogging | 5 Comments »

Wow. I am honored that People in the Sun tagged me. This is an easy one though I am not sure that anyone would be interested. I guess the point is to simply list 10 random facts about me. If you care, here they are:

1. I NEVER read fortune cookie fortunes - Part of the whole anti-superstition superstition that I have.

2. I have never had a cigarette (of any variety) in my mouth.

3. I am a closet opera fan.

4. If I had to choose between a “chick flick” or an action movie, I would choose When Harry Met Sally.

5. I am addicted to starting to read books. I have started a billion of them. Finished about 1/10 of that number.

6. I have run 5 marathons and then became fat. I am currently back up to 3-5 miles a few times per week.

7. I only recently received my college degree…at 42!

8. Shhhhh. Don’t tell anyone that I am a balloon-o-phobe. That’s right, I hate balloons and don’t like that I have to blow them up at the kids’ Bday parties. I hate the sound they make, I hate the static electricity, I hate when they pop.

9. I am a member of the Skeptic Society and spend a LOT of time thinking about science, religion, evolution, psychics, superstitions etc.

10. I am addicted to hot food (spice not temperature). I usually have a whole habanero pepper with whatever I am eating for dinner.

One more for good luck:

11. I think smart and funny is FAR sexier than boobs and butts. I think Jeanine Garofalo is hotter than Beyonce! There, I said it!

Ok, so I think I am supposed to tag three others. This is something I have never done before and I admit it a bit awkward. I think I will follow MyBlogLog community 3 levels deep and tag people I don’t even know. How is that for something different?

1. Here in Idaho

2. Shai Coggins

3. Out of Focus

No matter what, I hope you visit these blogs anyway. My limited visits can vouch that they are very well written blogs!

blogging, funny | 5 Comments »

Someone recently asked me what my greatest fear was. I am absolutely certain that the expected answer was something pretty basic and uncomplicated; spiders, flying, snakes etc. Imagine the eyeballs rolling up in their sockets as I spent more than 1 minute thinking of an answer. Not wanting to wait for my well thought out answer, my other friend said “I am afraid of heights. I can’t even go two steps on a ladder.”

I didn’t really listen as I spent more time thinking. I never really got to express my greatest fears as the conversation quickly turned to favorite movies (Cinema Paradiso, I might add here).

So now I have had two months to think of an answer and I don’t really know why it took so long because it was so obvious to me. My greatest fear is is quite simply the fear of being forgotten. I am so afraid that those that know me now will not know me the day after I die…or worse, I have been long forgotten before I die.

As BoMR (Both of My Readers) know, I used to be an EMT and that blood and guts was just a small portion of the job; the part that made cocktail parties with me very exciting…if your stomach could handle it. “You mean he was impaled on four concrete reinforcement bars when he fell five stories at the construction site? COOOL!”

But, it was never about that….in fact I saw very little of that….or paid attention to little of it. But I became very reflective when I saw people dead or dying or suffering all alone. Homeless people, virtually forgotten unless they are being nuisances by washing our windshields at stop lights along the Charles. Here they are, crumpled masses, utterly forgotten dying in the bowels of the city or being treated at the city hospital where no one comes to visit and the waiting rooms are more populated by housekeeping staff taking a break by watching TV than by family members.  Kind of reminds me of one of a song with such poignant lyrics, Eleanor Rigby by the Beatles:

Ah, look at all the lonely people
Ah, look at all the lonely people

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong? 

My greatest fear is that I will be one of those lonely people, forgotten by all.

The flip side of that fear is that I will be remembered for all the wrong reasons. Just one of the many motivators to lose weight was when I was at an event where my son was doing a karate demo to a group of people and he looked so lethargic and disinterested and I was commiserating with the woman next to me who noticed the same with her son. At some point she elbowed me and said, “But look who is complaining. It is not like either of us could do any better.” She said this pointing to our bellies. Wait a minute, I thought. This is not me. I am not a fat guy who couldn’t do a push up. For crap’s sake, I have run 5 marathons in my life! The extra girth is an anomaly and does not represent the real Dan. I believe we should all accept who we are, but I am very certain that I am not a fat guy. I don’t want to be remembered that way. I want to be remembered as the guy who really loves running; loves to eat healthily, loves to live life and wants to drop to the floor and play with my kids and not worry about whether I can get back up.

My fear is that I will be forgotten. One of my favorite songs is an Italian love song called, Non Ti Scordar Di Me. Which translates to “Do not forget me.” Perhaps this is why I blog? Maybe this is why we have children.

Please do not forget me.

What are your biggest fears? You are allowed to say spiders, sharks and whatever you want.

I really appreciate you for taking the time to read my post.

uncategorized | 6 Comments »

My two sons and I had the most lovely day bonding on Monday at the Museum of Science. In Boston, Monday was some holiday that I knew nothing about. The MoS was a place my older son and I have ejoyed on many occasions and it was so wonderful to include my almost 6 year old too. We had wonderful science-y related discussions and life was good. Now clearly, the primary purpose of going to the Museum was the prospect of the promised visit to the gift shop after the exhibits. They were given 5 dollars each so 25 dollars each later, we had a bag of rocks, a stuffed baby robin (complete with authentic baby robin sounds), something slimy that will only serve as a hair and dust magnet once it enters our house, and, the prized item, an authentic sharks tooth about 3 inches long in its own case. This set me back a billion dollars.

Now, I am not so delusional to believe that we will still be able to locate the tooth in the next 30 days. We live in a shoebox, but items seem to magically disappear without notice. But, imagine my eyeballs rolling into the back of my head when I hear my son screech “Where’s my sharks tooth?” not even one hour after returning home. We went on a frantic shark hunt turning over pillows and feeling between the couch cushions (we found food there! YUCK!). Finally, I noticed my daughter with that satanic look on her face she gets when she ate the canary. “Honey…do you know where the tooth is?” “I took it.” So now I lost my mind and began lecturing about property and how I will leave her outside for the raccoon if she touches anything in this house again. She got the message and slowly climbed the ladder to my son’s bunk bed and reached under his pillow.  “I left it here so the Tooth Fairy could give Marc money.”

[insert collective AWWWWWWWWW here]

funny, parenting | 3 Comments »

Hello BoMR (Both of My Readers):

I know it has been a long time since my last post of substance (some may say I have never had a post of substance!) and that I may have fallen off the planet. But, rest assured, I am alive and back!

With two children in Little League and one apparently in need of a good old fashioned exorcism, my evenings have been wickedly busy. I know everyone is busy and my life is no different, but the reality is that it has been hard lately to take care of even some of the basics in my life. It is not just blogging that has slid; my writing has too. Also, when I am not heading in two directions at once to be at two different ball fields at once, I am mostly sleeping. I have been trying to read Frank Herbert’s Dune and Al Gore’s Assault on Reason before bed, but typically that means about a page and a half before my eyes close. So, excuses aside, most after school events are over and I feel rejuvenated.

There is so much I want to share with BoMR and hopefully you will be reading posts soon about:

1. How I lost 30 pounds recently and have not felt this good in over 10 years!

2. How my running is going.

3. A slightly more political post about my experience reading Assault on Reason. I know that non-political bloggers usually hate posts about politics, but my bleeding heart sometimes needs a release.

4. More posts about Atheism, Religion, Superstitions and Rational Discourse (or lack thereof).

5. Excerpts from my NIP (Novel in Progress). If anything, you will see how NOT to write a novel!

6. Comments about some of my favorite blogs (ie why-paisley.com who never fails to shock and awe me. I think I am in love with this blog! So, stop reading my pointless drivel and click on the link! Go! Now!)

7. Of course, there will never be a shortage of Stories from My Baby Goats.

I don’t blog because I love to hear myself write (?), I blog because I hope that someone will read it…and enjoy it. Thanks to all for reading!

blogging | 6 Comments »

Please don’t be frightened if you see this image in your “recent visitors” widgets on your blogs. It is only me.
Now imagine Photo Shopping 50 pounds off of my face and I could be a mighty handsome dude. But alas, my rotundity overshadows any hope of aspiring to hotness.

blogging, funny | 5 Comments »

I haven’t been blogging much lately because either I have nothing to say or I don’t believe what I have to say is interesting, but I HAVE been blog surfing. The result of my journey around the vastness of BlogLand is that I now am convinced that my blog sucks.

That statement of fact and the pity party (of which I am the Martha Stewart at throwing pity parties) that followed is over now. Let’s move on to the point of the post.

When you are surfing, approximately what percent of the blogs that you are reading do you actually spend the time looking beyond the top couple of posts? I tried something different last night and for every single blog I visited, I immediately went to the archives and read posts from the months before. Then, if they intrigued me, I went back to the beginning, more recent posts. I have no idea what this accomplished, but it was fun. I felt like there was some continuity and I really got to know what this blogger’s blog was about. Again, I surfed away from these blogs saying, “Damn, I am jealous!”

Do you spend any time reading below the fold?

blogging | 7 Comments »