Love & Marriage

"Marriage is like an unfunny, tense version of Everybody Loves Raymond
. . . but it doesn't last 22 minutes. It lasts forever."

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I finally saw Knocked Up last night and, while I couldn't stop laughing throughout the film, that line was the highlight. (Doesn't hurt that it was delivered by Paul McDreamy Rudd.)

Although the focus of the movie is on the hilarity of the unplanned pregnancy and the budding relationship between total opposites (i.e., a stoner and a hottie), I really enjoyed the scenes with, and droll dialog of, the married couple (i.e., the hottie's sister and brother-in-law).

Yep, it doesn't get any better than this! Till death!

Lighten up Francis

I was telling my nephew last week, who after his freshman year in college has not yet firmly decided on his primary course of study, not to sweat it. Why add so much pressure to "get it right" when you're young given that life -- in and out of school -- is a path of learning?

When I was a senior in college and graduating with the presumably useless B.A. in English, I called my mom weeping. I was grappling with some serious angst about my inability to define myself when my girlfriends were going off to medical school or jobs as graphic designers and engineers. "What am I going to do with my life?" I sobbed.

Her response, "Don't worry about it. I'm 50 and I still have no idea what I want to do either."

Although it may sound dismissive, they were the most loving and accepting words I had ever heard. And they immediately took the pressure off; I didn't need to have clarity right then and there.

What I didn't realize until much later was the profound nature of my mom's statement either. That 22 years later (and probably for the rest of my life) I would still be in the process of defining myself, trying to determine what talents I have been given (!) and searching for answers regarding what's next.

Right now, I feel confident that I am exactly where I need to be. And instead of forging my way into the next experience blindly and later assessing the collateral damage, I'm waiting for divine inspiration (intervention?) to guide my way.

You never know what God has up his sleeve. I'll probably become America's Next Top Model.

Son of a Gun

During the sermon this past weekend, our pastor was recounting the scene in Dead Man Walking when Sister Helen Prejean (Susan Sarandon) tells the convicted murderer/rapist (Sean Penn) whom she was counseling spiritually, "You are a son of God" and he responds with a bit of a laugh, "I've been called a son of a you-know-what plenty of times, but I've never been called a son of God."

Son #1, who just turned eight, turned to me and whispered, "I bet he's been called a son of a bitch."

Hmmm. Well, at least he was listening.

The Answer My Friend

I realize that wind power, at this point in time, is expensive and doesn't yet justify a large investment -- at least economically speaking -- given that (even with government subsidies) the technology is insufficient and cannot cost effectively meet large scale production needs in a predictable fashion. Yet I do look forward to the day when wind turbines are economically viable and can provide safe, reliable, clean energy.

But I also think that people opposed to wind farms because they detract from the beauty of the landscape cannot see the forest through the windmills, so to speak. I personally think turbines are beautiful: clean lines, peaceful movement, dramatic presence.


(Image from Corus Group)

However, with all that said, I cannot help but ponder -- as I continually drive past what used to be Kodak Park and is now a barren landscape of leveled (i.e., imploded) buildings, empty parking lots and exposed pipes right in the heart of our city -- why do we need to put wind farms in areas of beauty? Why can't we put them in the midst of post-industrial urban decay? The answer may be as simple as the fact that underneath my proposed, ex-manufacturing landscape lies a sea of difficult-to-navigate, subsurface infrastructure (e.g., cables, pipes). Who knows.

I personally think an urban wind farm could redeem waste land that otherwise may remain neglected and an eyesore.

La la la de de da

Son #2 has his clock alarm set to a local rock station. Because he loves music, he typically leaves it on all morning while he gets ready for school. This morning I went in to check on him and he said, “I had to turn the radio off because they were playing a really bad song.”

“What song was it?” I asked.

He leaned over and turned the radio on for a split second . . .

Sing us a song you’re the piano man

. . and quickly shut it back off.

“That.”

I hear you little guy and couldn't agree more.

My Health Comes First

My dad used to have the 45 of a catchy little tune entitled The Drinking Man's Diet which contained the lyrics:

Drink, drink, everyone drink
It's not as bad as we used to think
With every Manhattan
Your stomach will flatten
So drink, drink, drink!

I was singing this on my way to work this morning after I heard the DJ on the radio state that although resveratrol is found naturally in red wine, "the dose you're getting with your nightly glass is probably nowhere near enough to make a difference."

Well then, time to polish off the bottle! My vision might get blurry but, for now, I can still read between the lines . . .

Happy Burfday!

According to Wikipedia, today in 1958 the trademark Velcro was registered and Vice President Nixon's car was attacked by anti-American demonstrators in Caracas, Venezuela. According to BrainyHistory, Jordan and Iraq formed the Arab Federation on that day, too.

What's not in Wikipedia is that my sister was born on this day in 1958, as well. According to my abacus, that makes her 50 years old! Closer to 100 than she is to zero . . .

So happy birthday little Susie. And happy birthday to Stevie Wonder, Stephen Colbert, Harvey Keitel, Bea Arthur, Dennis Rodman and Andrea Klump (German terrorist)--none of whom are as awesome as my sister.