FirstBlog

I hate waste. In a land of plenty when so much of the world is lacking, I simply cannot tolerate any resources being wasted. I will eat slightly moldy bread or cheese instead of throwing it out. I always turn off lights when I leave the room, I only drive when necessary, I try to remember not to leave the tap running when I brush my teeth. My wife and I lately are realizing that we’re in our thirties and staying healthy6 is very important. We’ve been eating way less processed foods and buying organic fruits and vegetables and free range meats. We make as much of our own stuff as we can, form salad dressing to gifts. It’s a fun way to be creative and it’s a way not to spend or waste money. We considered cutting off television, but, unfortunately, some bonehead didn’t read the paperwork before he signed it and found himself locked into a contract. It would be wasteful to pay a termination fee, which, of course is how they set it up. Since our apartment has a gym and a pool, we cancel

April 8th 1954- February 16th 2012. Gary Carter, also known as "the Kid" was a Hall of Fame Catcher, playing for Dodgers and the Expos, passed away yesterday afternoon at the age of 57. In May of 2011, he was diagnosed with four malignant brain tumors and, after a short but valiant battle, the cancer took his life. Carter retired form baseball in 1992 with 324 career home runs and a .262 batting average. He was also one of the best defensive catchers ever and was inducted into the Major League Baseball Hall of Fame in 2001. He was also a philanthropist and his foundation, the   Gary Carter Foundation , donated over $622,000 to chairtable organizations for schools, including over $300,000 for reading programs. The stated purpose of his foundation was   to "better the physical, mental and spiritual well-being of children." They advocated "school literacy by encouraging use of the Reading Counts Program, a program that exists in the Palm Beach County School Dis

In honor of Valentine's day (A Day Late) Here's a poem I wrote for my wife, before we were married. i hope you enjoy it! Last Train to Bellingham Again the train is stopped. Sixty miles out of Portland and we've been stopped for thirty minutes. Now we're going again, and now we're stopped again. We're letting another freight train pass. Three kids next to me- (oh, Lord God, bless their mother) The crunching of a potato chip bag, nickels flung against my chair, disobedient little monsters! I scowl at them not hiding my contempt. Their mother looks (tired) at me, ready to leave the little monsters on the train. A bag of chips just exploded next to me. They are all over the floor. The carpet is greasy and crumby. I don't help pick up. The bag was exploded by Dylan Thomas. The eldest- a girl- left her books in the locker at the train station. I'd kill for a cigarette. I like the train whistle- and the guy with the disheveled pink hair and pink scar

I was with my wife last Valentine's Day, but we weren't married yet. This, being our first year together as a married couple, I planned nothing until yesterday afternoon, when I realized what day was coming up. While my wife understands I'm very busy with school and writing and the like and is not the type to get mad over things like missing a Valentine's Day, I am sentimental. I show her I love her everyday, but I want to make this year special. I am the cook at home, but, I've decided that tonight I'm going to cook an extra special meal. Honey glazed Salmon, Shrimp soup, scallops and clams tossed with angel hair pasta, an Ambrosia salad and white wine. 'll also bring her home some flowers and chocolate and then, after food and drink, we'll watch Better off Dead and then maybe, well, maybe. So, Happy Valentine's Day to you and yours. I hope you have someone special to spend it with and you do something special for them! if you wanna read mor

TOM Fest, 1997 with Sonny from POD and some friends. I've been thinking lately about the brevity of life. This isn't just in light of the death of Whitney Houston, which I wrote about yesterday . It's just thinking about how old my parents, aunts and uncles are getting and how it seems like yesterday they were younger then I am now. My dad recently sent me a picture of him holding me. I couldn't be more then a moth or two old. In the picture, he's younger then I am now. More then that, he looks like me. It was over half a life time ago for him. Now, he's sixty and, slowly but surely, he's slowing down.  I saw a picture of my grandfather as a toddler. His bald head, smiling, sandy at the beach, He looked just like me when I was that age. He's dead and gone now. Surely he never thought he'd be old. This is especially odd because he was old the entire time I knew him. I recently wrote short poem about aging and how quickly it happens. Y

2/11/2012 The AP has confirmed that singer Whitney Houston has died at age 48. She was at the Beverly Hilton awaiting the pre-Grammy party held by Clive Davis, where she performed just one year ago today. While I was not a fan of her music, her talent was undeniable and, for a time, unmatched. Her voice was mind mindbogglingly powerful and her control over it would make any vocalist jealous. The details of her death won't be released for sometime though it seems likely that drugs played a factor, whether that means a relapse of some kind or a simple matter of her body giving out after a decade or so of abuse. Her godmother, Aretha Franklin, is said to be grief stricken and inconsolable and all the other apt cliches associated with death. While death is never welcome, especially on the young, hers comes at an especially inopportune time as she has been in the process of cleaning up her life and resuming her career. it reminds me of the death of Karen carpenter though I am to