Cat Prints

Cats are interesting and intriguing creatures. God must have really been laughing when He created cats. Cats can exhibit curiosity, fear, stubbornness, anger, determination, playfulness, and all other range of characteristics. When playing with a cat they can go from neutral to sadistic then to masochistic and end up disinterested in about 10 seconds. At times I think that they are part of the curse of a fallen world. At other times part of the blessing.

So my daughter decides to do her school science project on cats. Not just cats in general. She wanted to know if cats have "finger prints". We all know cats have paw prints, but she wanted to know if they have "finger prints" on their paws.

Now if you know anything about cats you know that you don't just walk up to the cat, ink their paw and press it on a piece of paper. First of all when the cat sees you coming to them without food they immediately assume the worst and make a run for it. After all, they know they are so obnoxious that humans would not voluntarily seek them out to play with them. So the chase begins.

Now once you catch a cat, what do you do? You have a twisting fur ball with a heart rate of something like 300 bpm that is trying to wrest itself free from your grasp. So it takes two humans to control one cat. Already this is a bad trend.

Well, suffice it to say, you can, with enough gentle... persuasion... convince the cat that you will not kill it in the process. Though you may kill it later as a result of the process and their reactions. However, eventually you can calm the cat down enough to take a paw print.

Now once you get the print, you are so relieved you release the cat. And off it goes, leaving one black paw print on your carpet. That is why you tell your daughter she needs washable ink because you foresaw this eventuality.

So then you look at the print. You got the paw pads, and fur, and smudges, and a scratch, and blood, and you need to get the cat for round two, then three, then... well, you get the picture.

In the end my daughter managed through this process and our two cats were no worse for the wear, though they both lost some fur in the process. It seems that when you freak a cat out, they tend to shed fur. I think they must have some kind of squid complex and try to leave a smoke screen of fur.

So her conclusions? Cats do indeed have some kind of finger print though she realizes that it would take thousands of prints to even begin to determine if they might be unique. And in typical kid fashion, she completed her display board the night before it was due. Some things never change I guess.

Still, I am glad that days of just doing a volcano are gone and the kids are encouraged to do something a bit different. I think I may convince her next year to do something that does not require bloodshed and live animals. Maybe she can do cold fusion :-)


Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Turning 40

Well, I turned 40 years old the other day. I had for a long time been dreading that birthday. I had visions of waking up and not being able to move, needing a cane, and in general, just being old. I don't know why I thought that, but I did. I guess when you are 30-something seeing the "4" in front of an age is just scary. But I don't know why. It is just the way it is. So now I am in a new demographic bracket. Such is life.

Yet, this birthday was even more joyful than I ever imagined. It was joyful not because of any "things". It was joyful because of God's blessings on me this past year. Since I turned 39, my life turned completely upside down. A lot of the cruft in my life was sifted out. A lot of bad habits and bad ideas were put behind me. And in the end, I am still here, with my two dear children. I have no wife, but I have my kids.

And not only did I have my kids with me, but I also had one certain blonde woman that flew 1000 miles to see me on my birthday. That woman is my lovely fiancee, Amy. She is an awesome woman and I am a blessed man for having known her. I am so blown away by God in His blessings to me, I cannot begin to tell you all how wonderful I feel at 40.

This is all due to God's grace in my life. And He manifested a huge portion of it by blessing me with Amy, the most awesome, intelligent, wonderful, thoughtful, considerate, steadfast, loving, and affectionate woman I have ever known. Period. She is so beautiful, she is so loving, and I am overwhelmed to even try and tell you all about her.

Thank you Amy. Because of you, I don't feel 40. I feel much younger, and I am in love with you. With you, I am stronger, I am more confident, I am more of a man. Thank you Lord for your gift of Amy to me. I will cherish her all the days of my life.

I can say in all honesty, it is good to be 40.


Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

3... 2... 1... Contacts

I have had to do many things as a single father. Especially in regards to the education I have undergone when it comes to my daughter. Now being male, I tend to think I understand my son a lot better than I understand my daughter. I know that this thought is just an illusion, but I like to think I do anyway.

So the school did a routine check of my daughter's eyes and sent home a note that she needs to have her eyes checked. Well it could have been worse, it could have said she needs to have her head examined. Of course, I think I need my head examined now after just a few months at the helm of this single dad family. But back to the point.

I took my daughter to the place America goes for everything from motor oil to tooth picks and shotgun shells, Walmart. We were directed to an outside door I had never noticed before even though it was on the front of the building. I guess, since it was not one of the two main entrances, I just never noticed it. But here we were in a room in Walmart I never knew existed.

So the optometrist began to check her eyes. And she had to go further and further up the chart. Yep, it was amazing she could focus on the board at school at all. She definitely needed glasses. But she was insistent that she get contacts. That may be a problem.

My daughter has her mom's vision, but she has my eyes. Squinty. Neither of us can open our eyes very far and I know what is involved in contacts. So I suggested extended wear lenses so the amount of frustration would be kept to a minimum.

So we get her contacts and a starter pack of solution and drops. And we dutifuly go back into Walmart to the vision center for a free instruction on how to put the contacts in. This is where life takes a turn for the really frustrating.

Two hours. It took two hours for my teenage daughter to get these contacts in her eyes. She would try to hold her eyes open and as the contact came close, she would nearly spasm and blink until they would not go in. Over and over we tried. Again and again. Ad nauseum.

So finally we got the contacts in after I was finally frustrated and she had resorted to frustration and tears. It was either a growing experience for us both, or a shared bit of pain. Either fits :-)

So now she has contacts and she can see. It was worth if if my little girl can see. But oh the pain. And that does not even account for the cost. Oh the things we must do for our kids. She is worth it. But the next time she has to change those contacts, she will be on her own :-)


Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Things You Never Expect...

Or you ever want to see!

Well, I flew to NC over a week ago to see my dear future wife, Amy. It was awesome. We spent 48 hours together and it was not nearly enough time to be with her. We drove around the area. I met her parents. We had an easy, relaxing, and wonderful weekend together.

On Saturday we drove to a little town in SC. We stopped at a tack and feed store just to look around. That is the kind of shopping a horse addict does :-) And I think its wonderful and cannot wait to be married to this beautiful, loving, understanding, and crazy woman. She is crazy because she said "yes" to me,

While at this store, I bought a small bottle of Coke. One of the glass kind. The kind that needs a bottle opener. Now where I am from, we call those openers "church keys". I don't why, but that is just what they were called. So I asked the girl at the register if she had a "church key". She said "a what?" So I said "something to open this bottle with". She said "oh. I don't think so, let me ask".

She then turned to another teenage girl clerk behind her and asked "do you have something to open this bottle with?" The girl looked at us and said "prepare to be amazed."

Now when someone says "prepare to be amazed", you tend to think it is just bravado and they are just being silly. Oh, but now we come to the title of this post. This young girl was about to amaze us. She could not have been much more than 16. But she was about to prove her worth.

She takes the bottle from me and holds it up to her mouth. Then using nothing but her teeth she begins to remove the bottle cap. To counter the force and continue the removal, she then used her tongue to press against the bottle cap as she lifted it with her teeth.

Yes, we were amazed. Shocked actually. Slightly disgusted. But amazed none the less.

The first girl, who was thoroughly grossed out, said "they are not going to want to drink it now that you rolled your tongue on it." So this impressive bottle opener wipes down the open end of the bottle with the underside of her sleeve. Yes, basically her arm pit. I am not making this up.

So what do you do when things you never expect happen?

I did the most gallant thing a man could do. I said "Well I am amazed and impressed. I want to shake your hand." And I did shake her hand. The first clerk said "you're not going to drink that are you?" I responded in my manliest means possible, so as to not be shown up by a little girl, "if she is going to open it like that, then yes I am going to drink it."

So I did, I took the first big swig. I then handed the bottle to Amy. Who looked at me as if to say "I cannot believe I am doing this" but what she said was "well, you got most of the germs off of it anyway" and she tipped it up and took a swig.

Now how could you beat that?

Well I didn't want to try to beat that. But we did finish the botlle of Coke together. I think Amy did take the last drink, getting all my backwash anyway. So there it is. Things you never expect, and never really wanted to see.

I hope this is just a small sample of the fun, adventures, and good spirits that Amy and I will share together. I can handle all things with her by my side. I love you Amy.


Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

It is not good for the man to be alone...

Genesis 2:18-24

¹⁸ The LORD God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him."
¹⁹ Now the LORD God had formed out of the ground all the beasts of the field and all the birds of the air. He brought them to the man to see what he would name them; and whatever the man called each living creature, that was its name. ²⁰ So the man gave names to all the livestock, the birds of the air and all the beasts of the field.
But for Adam no suitable helper was found. ²¹ So the LORD God caused the man to fall into a deep sleep; and while he was sleeping, he took one of the man's ribs ^{[ i]} and closed up the place with flesh. ²² Then the LORD God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man.
    ²³ The man said,
       "This is now bone of my bones
       and flesh of my flesh;
       she shall be called 'woman, '
       for she was taken out of man."
²⁴ For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh.

I think that is one of the most beautiful examples of God showing mercy and compassion for His children. God is the creator of everything and His ways are infinite. But He took the time to care for Adam and He individually crafted a helper for Him. And thus Adam had Eve.

Well if anyone has read my previous blog entries, you would realize that I am divorced with two teenagers at home full time. The more astute among you would also have picked up that it was not good for THIS man to be alone either. This past year has been difficult to say the least. But here we are surviving it. Yet we are not just surviving, we are in fact thriving.

God has taken compassion and shown mercy to this man. At a time when I was not looking for love, love found me all the same. And this love, was not found in worldly romance or traditional means. Instead, God used the Internet to bring us together. Yes, that vile object of hate and rejection, the Internet, can itself be used for God's purposes.

It was from posting on a Christian forum site in a thread on divorce that God gave a woman, herself hurting and raising kids alone, the gentle nudge to send me a simple email to say "thanks for your post". And God opened our hearts and our minds to each other. God allowed us to look past hurt, rejection, broken trust, and painful memories to allow ourselves to see love brought by God Himself. A precious gift to His children.

That is how I met Amy.

It is with shouts of praise to God and hallelujahs that I now have joy in telling you that what was once broken and undone, has by God been healed and made new.

After talking for quite a while, I flew to see Amy. I asked Amy to marry me. She said "yes" without hesitation. So I can happily say that we are officially engaged.

While I know the manner and timing of our wonderful news of our engagement will certainly cause some to pause and wonder, I ask that you look beyond what the world sees and says. Look with your hearts and take joy with us in this wonderful and awesome work of God in our lives.

It is to God's glory I want to sing hallelujah from the tops of mountains with all of my breath and all of my strength in adoration for God has been most merciful to me and my children.

Amy, I love you.


Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Super-Hero Usher Action

Yesterday I filled in for a missing usher at church. As I stood there handing out the service bulletins, greeting people as they came in the sanctuary, my daughter came in and sat down near where I was standing. She said "dad, you've got that super-hero usher action thing going". This cracked me up. I guess I never thought of an usher as an action figure.

But as I thought about this, I began to think about ushers in our church. It is not just handing out a bulletin and trying to point people to a row with enough available seats for their entourage. It is about serving God by serving people.

As a substitute assistant usher third class, all I had to do was hand out bulletins, take up the offering, smile a bit, and that is about it. No there is no title for usher other than just "usher". I just like to be funny.

I am reminded of the story of the 3 men laying bricks to build a new church. Someone asked the first brick layer "what are you making?". To which he replied "about $16 an hour, which is not too bad right now". Someone asked the second brick layer "what are you making?". To which he replied "I am making a living and keeping my family fed and in a house'. Then someone asked the third brick layer "what are you making?". To which he replied "I am making a cathedral! A house of worship for the only living and true God!".

So its not the job or the service that makes the difference. It is the attitude in doing it. And if our attitude is good and we do our best, then God is pleased.

man: What are you doing?
usher: I am ushing.
man: Oh.
usher: And in the process, I try to make your day better, greet you wiith a smile, provide you with assistance as needed, and I serve the only living and true God.

Thanks to all you ushers out there. Next month, I will be a "regular" usher and not a substitute usher third class. I will work on perfecting that "separate the bulletins extending hand with the proper number of bulletins and smile and say good morning" super-hero action.


Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Started The Ball Rolling

Ok, in my previous entry, I described the ridiculous book that my daughter checked out from her middle school library. If you are unaware, check my previous post. Anyway, I have now started the ball rolling to get something done about it.

After we had "meet the teacher" night in the middle school, O decided that it was a good time to approach the subject of that book with my daughter's teacher. So yesterday I wrote the teacher a very nice email that basically said I don't blame her (the teacher) for anything, I just wanted to make her aware of the situation. Furthermore I would like help in guiding my daughter in making better choices for reading assignments. I also wrote that I was going to pursue having that particular book removed from the library.

So now I am in the wait and see mode. We shall see what comes of this. I still presume that she did not know about the specific material or she had forgotten about it. I am not trying to find someone to point a finger at. I just want help in guiding my daughter to better reading material.

We shall see.

Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Oh My Word

My daughter brought home a library book today from public school. She went to the library and she has to always have an "accelerated reading" book checked out for her reading class. These books must be a certain level for their advanced reading.

The book my daughter brought home is called Stardust by Neil Gaiman. My daughter showed me some pages in this book that I could not believe. In fact this book contains sexually explicit material and was recommended to my 8th grade daughter by her reading teacher. She showed her teacher the book and her teacher's response was "This really is a good book.".

The book is set in the English countryside in the 20th century (I think). There is a thread in this book that involves a young man who cheats on his girlfriend and has sex with a witch's slave. Yes that is what I said, sex with a witch's slave. This was recommended reading for my 8th grade daughter. It is not just an allusion to sex. It describes it.

I have to forewarn you that this material is explicit but I am including a small part of it here. I have put the text in reverse video color. To view it,highlight the following block. The following is a direct quote from the book:

There was a moment of hesitation, and then her mouth opened against his, and her tongue slid into his mouth, and he was irrevocably, lost. 

He had kissed before, with the girls of the village, but he had gone no further. 

His hand felt her small breasts through the silk of her dress, touched the hard nubs of her nipples. She clung to him, hard, as if she was drowning, fumbling with his shirt, with his britches. 

She was so small; he was scared he would hurt her and break her. He did not. She wriggled and writhed beneath him, grasping and kicking, and guiding him with her hand. 

She placed a hundred burning kisses on his face and chest, and then she was above him, straddling him, grasping and laughing, sweating and slippery as a minnow, and he was arching ad pushing and exulting, his head full of her and only her, and had he known her name he would have called it out aloud. 

At the end, he would have pulled out, but she held him inside her, wrapped her legs around him, pushed against him so hard that he felt that the two of them occupied the same place in the universe.

This is erotic stuff even for an adult. Can you believe that is considered appropriate reading for a 13 year old girl? I can't. I have not decided what I am going to do. I have talked to my daughter and she has a good head on her shoulders. We shall be watching this situation as the year unfolds.


Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Second Week Coming To A Close

As we come to the close of a second week of public school, I can now see things start to normalize. Also I remember my school days and I have to say things are much better in some ways, worse in others, and a lot of it was the same as I remembered it. One area of improvement for sure is in paying for lunch. Back in the old days, we had to exchange clam shells... Well not quite. But we bought individual lunch chips. Now my kids have PIN codes and the account is kept filled by credit card. I like that. Also an improvement is that high school here has A and B days with longer class times. The class times in my day were so short you could not get anything done really. I liket this new way. And when I was in junior high (we did not have middle school), we had rotating periods each week. I hated that.

As for those things that are worse, I will catalog them in this blog as I encounter them. For now the worst things are basically the academics. I don't like "teaching for the test", and I don't like that the level of academics taught is lower than what my kids were used to.

The other thing I have noticed is that the kids had it soft in home school. When they get pushed in PE to do more now, or they feel a little under the weather, they want to have a day off. That will NOT work. So in a good way, public school is forcing them to be less "soft", to have more fortitude. Definitely a good thing.

Stay tuned citizens. There are more updates in the coming months. But I think for now, I have said enough about this adventure.

Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

First Week of Public School Post Mortem

So far the venture into the public school system has been less than stellar. I can't say this has been easy or rewarding. It has been nothing but a hassle and disappointing. Let me start with a recap of the road traveled thus far. 

• Made the decision very late in the spring to go public school 
• Started the process by calling the school, found out that there is paperwork required - no surprise there 
• Found out that my son can start taking 11th grade classes, but must take tests to get credits for 9th and 10th grade - 10 in all 
• Found out that my daughter coult not just go straight to 9th grade as her birthday fell after the Sep 1 cutoff date 
• Found out she could take tests (of course) to go for a year's advancement 
• Signed up both kids for school 
• Made several expeditions to get all shots and immunization in order - it cost me $65 
• Finally secured all the medical stuff 
• Kids took the tests 
• Daughter did not pass 
• Son passed some, needs to retake some others 
• Neither took this seriously 
• Signed up daughter for middle school the week before classes start 
• First day of school, daughter's bus was late, she shows up at school, they have no record of her 
• First day of school, son forgets which bus was his, has to call for help to get a ride home 
• Bus continues to run late for daughter for 3 days - did not even show up on 3rd day
• Spent around 25 minutes on the phone with the man from the bus route supervisor's office that day 

And finally they made it through their first week.

So there you have it, a 3 month long ordeal that I underestimated completely. This has been a rough summer. This has been a rough start to a school year. And while the kids do seem to like public school, they are already under-impressed with the academic instruction. So from their perspectives and my own, here is our take on the Texas public school system in our independent school district: 

• The system is typified by chaos 
• There are literally dozens of papers to be signed by the parents in the first week for redundant reasons 
• The work is easy, almost to being ridiculous - my daughter colored a cow in 8th grade English class one day, then cut cows out the next 
• School lunches are better than they anticipated 
• The focus of classes has been stated to being centered on doing well on the standardized state tests 
• Discipline is not totally broken down, but there is little respect for authority

The system is nearly broken

Those are the perspectives from me and both kids each of which have had 4 years of home school following private school. Are we being unfair? Maybe, so far they have had a much different kind of education. And I will add that the depth and level of private and home school curriculum and education far exceeds the public school system as demonstrated by this first week. We shall keep an open mind and see what unfolds in the following weeks.


Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Finally, The Bus Arrives on Time

It was the fourth day of public school for the kids. And this morning, my daughter's bus finally came on time AND they did not have to stay exceptionally late before coming home. Can you believe it? Let's hope this is a normal thing and not a flash in the pan.
So far, they seem to like school. Things are going pretty well. As the days and weeks unfold, I will give more accounts as to the teenage life in public school that I glean from my kids. But for now I have learned the following:

• Apparently 98% of the kids use foul language 
• Most kids talk too much in class 
• School lunches are not too bad 
• The day doesn't drag as long as home school days.

Well that is all I have for now. Stay tuned for more updates on our adventures in Texas public schools.

Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Public School Day 3

My daughter's first day of school was rough, as I posted already. My son's was pretty good. Their second day was better, and their third day was getting more routine. So all in all, it is going pretty well. Except for... the bus.

There is no doubt about. My daughter has the one bus that cannot be on time at all. The first day it was about 15 minutes late which meant she was late for her first day of school. The second day, it was about 15 minutes late again. But this morning. This morning was ridiculous. It was over 20 minutes late and she missed most of her first period class. And apparently they had to send a different bus to get her and the other kids in the end. Where was the bus driver? Apparently he did not show. After school had already started, two buses show up at the same time to get them. Apparently they were dispatched in a hurry. And on the way to school, they still missed some kids.

So this disgruntled father gets on the phone to the bus route supervisor. I was angry, frustrated, and not ready to listen to excuses. I did listen, but I did not like being patronized. I was persistent and I did finally get some information. Apparently they had planned their bus routes using a set of assumptions about traffic flow that did not pan out.

The same buses are used to shuttle kids to high school first thing in the morning. Then they head back out to get the elementary school kids. And finally they make their way back out for the middle school kids. Apparently the traffic problems leaving the high school in the morning is causing an accumulated delay.

At least that was the explanatiion by the very patient but yet really wanting to not have to talk to me man was saying.

Now the plot thickens for the return home today. School was let out and the kids assembled where the bus would pick them up. Only there is no bus for them. It did not come at all. Finally, after about 45 minutes, another bus that had completed its route comes around for my daughter and the rest of the distraught kids to take them home. My daughter arrives home over an hour after school lets out. We live less than 2 miles from the school.

Let us pray that the bus arrives on time in the morning. And I will be there. Oh yes, I will be waiting. And I want to see that bus come on time. I will be watching them. And I will have my cell phone ready. And that little man at the bus route supervisor's office might be even more flustered if it is late again.




Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

First Day of School

Well today was the first day of school here in our district. And my kids had their first day of public school - ever. That is right. Up to this point they have been private schooled and home schooled. But now, due to changes in our family (i.e. their home school teacher is no longer around), they now go to public school. I don't know who was more nervous, them or me.

So I get up extra early so I could get my son up to get ready and catch the 6:30 bus to high school. He barely got there because it came early.

Now my daughter did not have to get up until later to catch the 8:30 bus to middle school. She had plenty of time because it was late.

And then all the fun began.

Well things went pretty well for my son. Except he forgot his PIN in a classroom and couldn't eat lunch. But the rest of his day went pretty smooth. That is until it was time to come home. He had neglected to notice the bus number he rode to school. Therefore he did not know which one to take back home. Therefore he took none. And that was why I got a call from our friend Rita to tell me she had been contacted by my son and she was picking him up from school.

Now for my daughter, things just stacked up against her. First her bus was late. Then, for some unknown reason, they lost her registration. So she had to spend first period waiting in the library with 25 other kids to get registered - again. And now, she could not get the classes she was signed up for. She got to eat lunch but she did not like it. The only bright spot for her was she got to see her friend during PE class. That helped her a lot I think. Well she came home with a headache and a lot to say. But she will be going back tomorrow.

Just another day in paradise in our family. Nothing much out of the ordinary.

We are still waiting for famine, plague, and that asteroid to hit.


Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Empty Post

I am running on empty right now. So many things I want to say. So many things I can't say. So much to do. So much I can't get done. So it goes, I am running on empty.




Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Teenage Estrogen Reloaded

The modern American Mall, an untamed dominion of humans in one of their natural environments. I spent the day observing the behavior of the herds of young male humans and the flocks of young female humans.Today I rejoined a flock of young females I have spent much time with in the past. The following are some excerpts of my field notes from today's outing.

11:30 - Having spent some time previously with this particular flock of young females, I have found it best to offer them food before they venture into the mall. This not only gains their trust, but provides unrestricted observation of their eating habits. Note: find someplace less expensive next time, where do they put it all?

12:20 - Arrived at mall. Made unfortunate entry into mall near area marked "dollar store". The abundance of prey caused their well organized hunting formations to degrade into a feeding frenzy. Was worried momentarily about discussion of their obtaining torches. They decided not to be burdened by carrying 5 foot long torches in the wilds of the mall. That was a close one.

Approx 13:00 - Lurked outside of an area marked "Icing". There was discussion of how to obtain tribal ear piercing of a member of the flock. Quest was abandoned when it was learned the "parent" (that is what they call their mothers and fathers) must be present.

Note the jungle heat and crowded water hole caused me to lose track of time. How these flocks can flourish in this hostile environment is beyond me.

Arrived at Candiopolis. Was forced by the flock to purchase Icees and candy for each. I feared for my safety at the time and thought it prudent to do as they demanded. This was the only time the danger that lurks just below the surface of this amazing adventure was made evident.

Was dragged unwillingly into Earth Bound and suffered difficulty breathing and a headache. How much incense can one store have anyway? Flock move slowly and deliberately through this store.

Found massage chair. Took time out from observations to soothe headache. Note: on next outing, plan route to pass this location at least twice.

4:00 - Began to regain ability to look at watch. Made a peace offering of Wetzel Pretzels to the flock. I was given temporary inclusion into the inner world of the flock. Note: there are some questions that should not be asked, there are some things a parent doesn't really need to hear.

4:30 - Planned circuitous route back to safari vehicle.

5:15 - Somehow made it to vehicle. Note: on next outing, avoid passing Victoria's Secret, enough said.

By the end of the journey, I had collected enough observations on this particular flock to know that they are cunning hunters yet have poor sense of direction. I noted that we had traveled in circles several times. I have also decided that I must go to the ATM first the next time out. I am considering seeking government funding of these field studies as they can run into some expense.




Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Pirates of the Chickamauga

Today was a lazy day. And late this afternoon, I fixed some pasta for the kids. We were going to settle down, eat pasta, and watch Pirates of the Caribbean on DVD. That was when we discovered that the DVD player was dead. It had died sometime in the night, with a quiet passing. We know that our old DVD player was not the best, it had its quirks, but it had been a faithful family friend for years. And now it has gone on to its not so final resting ground, the dumpster.

Actually come to think of it, that DVD player sucked. It was very picky at times. It would get confused about whether it was loading or unloading and sometimes would just do random things. And what was most irritating was that the only way the remote worked reliably was if you pointed it directly at the receiver with a 2 degree inclination at a distance of no more than 17 millimeters. So, good riddance to old junk.

A quick check on the walmart.com site showed me what I was looking for. They have a progressive scan DVD player for less than $40. Now I know, you get what you pay for, but if this only lasts a year, it was worth it. So off to Walmart to get a new DVD player. Of course once in Walmart, they have a neural limiter that makes it easier for you to purchase other things. You start to think "well I need this and I need that ... and oh cool, I want one of those". Walmart is a dangerous place to be.

Now on the way to Walmart, we got the mail. And something my daughter was looking for finally arrived: the DVD made while they were at church camp. A few entries ago I posted about about my kids coming home from church camp. This was something I was also eager to see. So the first thing played on our new low-end progressive scan DVD player bought from Walmart was this DVD.

There were a few shots of both of my kids including my daughter singing a song that she wrote herself. Wow. I heard about this, but I never imagined her getting up in front of people to sing. It was cool to get a short glimpse of it.

Now to address the title of this post. The camp coordinators had a pirate theme this year and the DVD was chock full of goofy pirate antics. They were the self-proclaimed Pirates of the Chickamauga, which I now know is a lake in Georgia. These guys seemed to do their best to make the camp fun for all the teens there. I thank them.

So now, it is evening and we are preparing to watch another DVD. And what better one to watch than Pirates of the Caribbean. So avast thar ye land lubber and stow the rigging. Our DVD player is set sail for pirate adventure.

Arrrrrrrrr!

Yeah, I know that last bit is stupid. But hey, I would rather be watching pirates than doing pilates.




Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

The Volvo

I have all my life driven simple vehicles. I have had a Volkswagon Bug, a Pontiac J2000, an Isuzu I-Mark, a Chevy S10 pickup truck, and I got the Dodge Grand Caravan out of the divorce. But the minivan died. It had a "seizure" and does not run. So for the past month I had been driving a borrowed vehicle from a friend. It is a Ford F-150 pickup truck. But I really needed to get my van fixed or get a vehicle.

Enter the Volvo.

My ex sent me an email about a 1990 Volvo 760 Turbo for sale from her office. I called the guy (an attorney) and arranged to see it. The price was so right, only $1100, so I bought it. It has high mileage and does show its 15 years age. However, it runs, which is more than I can say for my van. So tonight, I took possession of a Volvo.

I have to say, I never before liked Volvo cars. I always thought they were a bit boxy and ... well ... not "cool" looking. However, they are solid cars with an excellent reputation. And I needed a car. But never did I expect to be driving a Volvo. I think I always assumed some kind of stigma about them

Buffy, I just had the Volvo cleaned, must you allow your little dog Muffin to sit in the seat?
Why Bink, wittle Muffin wikes your great big car.
Oh very well poopsie, just keep a towel ready in case Muffin has to tinkle. Ha ha, ha ha ha.

Shudder! I don't even want to consider that again.So I now have a Volvo and I have to shed that stigma. I was told by some friends that this was my "Euro-trash" car. I think that is funny.

I went by to show it to my friends. On the way, I opened a couple of compartment doors. Well, that was less than pleasant. Somehow I got the glove compartment door stuck closed. When I pulled hard enough to open it, a piece of something went flying. And now the door appears to work normally. The center console lid needs fixing as well. Basically I told my friends "if it looks like a door, don't open it".

Well, there are many more problems than that. But as a whole, I like my Volvo. I can't believe I think that, but I do.

So I sit and think about it. I never pictured myself driving a Volvo. But here I am, driving a Volvo. You know if this was anyone else, there would be no reason to even write about it. But this is me we are talking about. You know, the Volvo guy.




Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Harry Potter, Book 6, Day 2, Chapters 22-30

Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrgggggggggghhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!
Ok, now that I have got that out of my system. I must gloat over two things, but I won't spill the beans, no spoilers.

Thing #1, I accurately predicted the identity of a death that features in this book.Thing #2, I accurately predicted the identity of the killer.

Now my suspicion is that killer's motives are not what they appear to be. I believe the killer has different reasons than the obvious ones.

And in continuing with my previous posts on this, I still believe that this is probably my favorite book of the series right now. Though the last chapter nearly changed that. I don't know how J.K.R. will be able to bring this to conclusion in one more book. Unless this is not the plan... Those who read the book may follow me on that one.

Read this book.




Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Harry Potter, Book 6, Day 2, Chapters 12-21

I wanted to start reading right away last night when I got home, right after I fixed dinner, and right after I did a few things, and right after I got settled in for the evening. So needless to day, I did not get started reading until quite late. So I did not stop reading until it was very late last night, or very early this morning depending on your perspective.

So far the book is proving to be exceptional. I am still quite engaged in the story and I did not want to put the book down. However, when you can't keep your eyes focused, or much less open, it is time to give it a rest. I think tonight I will have finished it and then I can talk to the kids and to my friend Rita about it. She has been "drumming her fingers" waiting patiently - or bursting at the seams, it's one of those two - and not talking about it so far.

There are so many bits I want to talk about in the book. I want to see what others thought about things. But still I want to wait until I am finished reading as I am building up my "solution" to this whodunit. Even pointing to some event as being significant could alter my thoughts and reduce my expectations.

This is a good book.



Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Harry Potter, Book 6, Day 1, Chapters 1-11

Well I was patient and my kids finished reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince the other day. So I started reading last night. And I stayed up too late. It was that engaging. So what follows is my reaction so far.

First off I want to say that this has so far proven to me to be J.K.R.'s finest writing. She was good from the start, but now she is nothing less than excellent. I started reading last night and in the first few pages I thought to myself "wow, she has really done it this time". Rats! I did not want to use the "wow" word like my friends Rita and Lynette. But it does fit.

And like Lynette experienced, when I realized I was one third of the way through the book, I was thinking to myself "I don't want this to end that quickly". But at the same time I was reading as though the next page might contain the cure for cancer or something. I just kept reading until my eyes finally wouldn't focus last night. I did not want to put it down. It is that good.

I expect to be completely through it by tomorrow night, or possibly tonight. It just depends on distractions. And with two teens at home, there are distractions. But both of them are also waiting for me to finish it so we can discuss it openly. I told them I did not want to hear any spoilers and so far they have been very nice about it. But they also make sly little hints to each other. I just do my best Gollum impersonation, clasp my hands over my ears and repeat "not listening! not listening!"

Updates of reading progress to follow. I can't wait to get home from work and start it again.




Copyright 2005, Kevin Farley (a.k.a. sixdrift, a.k.a. neuronstatic)

Church Camp and Crowbars

My two teens spent last week at church camp in Colorado. It was a quiet week at home, except for the sounds of explosions, gunfire, and total carnage. I spent most of the week's free time playing Mercenaries, a game of incredible violence in warfare. And incredibly fun. Yes, it's true, I played games and did nothing really productive.

When they came back on Saturday, I was eager to hear the stories they brought back with them. When I sent them on their way over a week ago, I gave them these three instructions:

1. Do nothing to get thrown out from camp, I can't come to get you.
2. Do nothing stupid to get yourself or anyone else hurt, I can't come to get you.
3. Push the limits and have fun, I would like to be there too.

So I was naturally interested if they had fun. And I also was a little worried that they may have taken my instructions a little too seriously, specifically #3, and had done something to get in trouble.

Well, I won't go into all the details here. I just want to leave a teaser. My daughter started a story with "we had to steal the crowbar from the boys' cabin". Well, that was quite an opener. Essentially they needed the crowbar to do a little .... stealthy acquisition of team flags and provide secure storage of said flags over the following days. Yeah, they stole the team flags :-)

And to cover tracks, they "stole" their own flag as well. Clever. Really it was just a harmless prank involving several of the girls. I thought it was hysterical. Especially hearing how one of the kids at camp had "developed a weird emotional attachment" (my daughter's words) to their team flag.

So I asked my son, "why did you guys take a crowbar with you?" He said "oh we didn't take one, bought one on the way." There is only one response to that. So I said "That makes sense. But next time you guys need one of those all-in-one tools with screwdrivers and a hammer as well. Some pliers may come in handy also."

I know that many of you would disagree with me and say that I am encouraging sinful behavior that could lead my kids to a life of sin and crime and they spend the rest of their lives in prison for stealing national treasures to sell on the Russian black market or end up as members of a terrorist organization. Yes, that is a ridiculous exaggeration. Life for teens does not have to be so serious, IMHO.

Life should be fun. My kids have had a lot of un-fun this year. This year, their mother walked out on us and now now we are divorced. Early on in the year, we didn't have much extra cash for doing fun things. They are going to start public school for the first time this fall. And in general, it has been a rough year. Yes I encouraged my kids to explore the rules and find how to poke holes in them a bit. Yes I encouraged my kids to have fun.

Yes there is satisfaction and fulfillment in being model citizens and model Christian children. But often, the standards set by many legalists offer no joy, no satisfaction, and no fun. They mostly offer only guilt. And they are typically unsupportable by scriptures and represent the mantra of the modern Pharisees.

Jesus laughed. Jesus smiled. And I believe that at times, Jesus had a bit of fun talking smack with the established religious leaders and the Pharisees. He is clever and witty. He is a model citizen of God's kingdom. He is merciful. He is not a legalist stick in the mud. Jesus is cool. So more than anything, I encourage my kids to be like Jesus.

I've Been Harry Potter'ed

The other night was the big event all the Harry Potter fans have been waiting for: the release of Half-Blood Prince. I was in a book store along with about 1200 other people counting down the hours until they started selling the books. I understood that there were about 600 people outside in line as well. I arrived around 8:30 and I was still well back in the queue. They assigned group letters and I was "G". I didn't get my books (yes plural, both kids both want to read it and this is far better than trying to work out sharing plans) until about 12:30.

They had a costume competition and a little Veela won. However, I was rooting for a very realistic Dobby complete with grubby pillow case, if you can imagine. And as we approached the last moments before midnight, there was an in-store unison countdown of the last 10 seconds with a quite loud roar of enthusiasm and applause at midnight. And then the lines started to move.

It was interesting, weird, at moments fun, but if nothing else, it was enlightening. I did a lot of people watching. Having two teens myself, I was especially curious to watch the teens moving around the stored. In general they were all just trying to have a bit of fun. And though many were dressed in wizarding robes, often with accessories (like wands), and sometimes other garments that I could only guess their meaning (some appeared to have the wrong book in mind), still these teens were trying to preserve their "cool". They were trying to balance between "look I am cool enough to act a bit silly and not worry about it" and the dreaded "look I am acting so silly I am no longer cool, but its fun."

Now I have to wait until at least one of my kids is done with their book so I can read it. Maybe if I cross a bit of Hogwarts with D&D, I could cast a hastening spell on them and get it quicker :-)

Living My Life

Who lives your life for you? Do you live your life for yourself? Do you live vicariously through others? These are important questions. And as I have learned, can have significant consequences at times.

It is difficult to piece together your life again when it has been turned upside down. And the one place you turn to is your friends. But what happens when your friends believe they know what you're doing even when you don't? What about when your friends believe they know what you're doing when they really are quite wrong, but won't believe you? What about when your friends offer you advice that is really not conducive to your personal goals? And finally, what about when your friends simply do not like your way of living your life, and they abandon you?

Well, I can tell you, it really depends on your friends. A casual friend will mostly accept what you do and let it pass. A closer friend may counsel you and take a stronger interest in your thoughts and your actions. A really close friend may try to take the reigns and steer you down they path they think best. And there is every possible variation on those that you will see.

But it is that last category that causes the most pain. A really close friend may really have your best interest at heart. They may sacrifice time and energy trying to help you solve your problems. But they may also may take it personal when you don't see things their way. Let me illustrate by way of real life example.

Because I recently have found myself in a strange new world - the divorced adult single dating world - I can honestly say I really don't know what I am doing now. Yet at the same time, I do have a pretty good idea of the end goals that I want to see myself reach. So while I can't really say "hey, I know what I am doing", I can readily say "I know I don't want to do that."

Some of my casual friends have given me some reasonable advice - take it slow, keep the faith, look for character and integrity, and other really rational gems. But some of this advice has been.... well not what I want for me. For example, I was advised by one friend to "take at least a year after divorce before you even begin to start dating." Uh..... no. I do not want to do that. I do not want to be that lonely that long, unless it is God's will that I be that alone that long. And I would know if it was His will if that is what happened.

Another friend told me "date a lot, find out what all kinds of women are like until you find what you want." Well, I don't think that is what I really want to do either. I don't want to date for the sake of dating. And that could lead me to temptation (or bankruptcy).

And in those cases of the casual friend, they really didn't care if I took their advice or not. They just wanted to offer it. But they are not emotionally invested enough to really wait for the follow-through. That is OK. We should have different friends at different levels. It helps us to strike a balance.

Now some of my closer friends have offered similar rational advice but then watch the follow-through. They ask questions, they are sometimes concerned with my actions, but they are always supportive. Even when I make a mistake (which is inevitable), they are there to try to help me carry on.

But sadly, a very close friend has chosen a different tactic. From my perspective, this friend approves of nothing I do, if I do not do exactly as he would have me do it. I am not joking. Whether real or only perception, this is exactly how it seems. For example, my friend was there through my divorce and was tired of dealing with some of the issues - I do not blame him for this - and told me "I do not want to hear about your personal life anymore." Well, I felt abandoned, but I know I had been a burden to them. So I did as requested. Now comes the hard part.

I keep my private life, and specifically my dating life, to myself, sharing nothing of it with my friend. However, he continued to think on it, and had decided, quite on his own, that he "knew" what I was actually doing, even though I was saying nothing. Well, that is disheartening, but not enough to damage the friendship. But then, because he is so convinced he knows that I have embarked on some strange path and that I am being secretive about it, that he completely refuses to believe me when I refute his claims. He calls me a liar and abandons me again. That hurts.

I asked my friend "so you think I am hiding something and I am doing something secretive when you see me just doing my thing because I don't tell you about it, when you told me not to tell you?" I then asked "do you want to me to share my personal life with you or not? If you do I will, I have nothing to hide, but why do you condemn me as secretive because I do not do what you would do, but instead you see me doing what I want to do, and you told me not to tell you about it?" I don't know the answers to these questions because he gave none.

I would hope that time would heal these wounds. Those I have inflicted, and those he has inflicted. And I will still be his friend, but the dynamics are certainly different now. I know that he believes me to be a liar, so trust will be difficult to maintain in both directions.

So I have decided to live my life, make my mistakes, and take my consequences. This does not mean I am just going to live wild and free as if there is no tomorrow. On the contrary, it means that I will continue to seek wise counsel and live as a follower of Christ. I will at times take that counsel, and at times I will not take it based solely on my own personal goals, experiences, and beliefs compared to the advice giver. This does not mean that I do not respect them, it only means that I do not see things their particular way.

It is the only life I have. Betrayal and divorce  have ruined it enough. I just want to live out what is left of it as I think best. I am not perfect, nor would I claim to be. I am stumbling through life as it is, carrying an enormous load. Please don't burden me with more of it by projecting yourself onto my life, it can't carry the weight of more than one at a time.

A Gasoline Shower

A more appropriate title for this post could be:

What To Do When A Gas Pump Spews Gasoline All Over The Place

I stopped at a gas station yesterday on my way home from work. I was standing there between the pumps talking to a friend of mine who was also there. Then we heard a shower of gasoline spewing from the top of the gas pump all over the side of some lady's car and the ground. And listen, when a gas pump is fully running it cranks out some gas. There was a lot quickly.

The lady looked at me and said "what do I do?" I immediately responded "emergency cutoff switch!" And then I began to look for it. Guess what. They put that switch close to the building so the employees can get to it quickly. I didn't find it. So I did the next logical thing. I braved the shower of gasoline to grab the pump handle, removed it from the car and put it back on the pump. And yes that shut off the gas.

Now by this time both of my arms are fully soaked in gasoline. It was on my shoes, my pants, and my watch. I can still smell it as I write this.

Why did this happen?

You know that "break-away" feature of the gas pump handle and hose? That is the bit that breaks apart (and theoretically shuts off the flow of gas) in case you drive off with the pump handle still in your car. Well that is where the gas was spewing from.

According to the employee at the gas station (and I am sorry but he was such the stereotypical Indian convenience store clerk, it was too funny), that pump was already broken. They left the pump handle in its cradle even though the hose was disconnected. I presume this was so the other handles would work correctly. Now the lady did not see that the hose was laying on the ground and did not connect above her head. Hey, I run on autopilot so much, I could easily make that mistake. I guess being a bit ADD and OCD helps me to spot those kinds of things.

A little gasoline doesn't smell all that bad. Add a little more and it reeks. Take a shower in it and it REALLY stinks!

So take my advice, don't drink and drive, don't do drugs, tip your server, go to church, and always survey the gas station and its pumps before you crank it up.

This has been a public service announcement of the I Don't Want to Take Gasoline Showers Foundation and not the Will Rogers Institute. Had this been an actual emergency, you would have seen me speeding past you. Taxes and tags not included and your mileage may vary.

More Teenage Estrogen

Well I spent another day at the mall with my teenage daughter and her friends. The pack seems to be more tolerant of my presence now. I can study their flocking behavior without them reacting to my presence. On more than one occasion, I was in the immediate vicinity of them when they were seeking prey and going for the kill without them being spooked.

Teens in the wild are quite impressive in their stalking abiities. They can sneak up on shoes, skirts, shirts, candy, and the more unusual items in a mall with the ease of a lioness prowling the open grasslands. I have seen them dodge competing flocks, redirect their stalking to a new target, and in general, show their impressive abilities as modern hunters.

But the most important thing was I got to spend the day with my daughter. All kidding aside, I love my daughter and I am very happy to take her to the mall and spend time with her.

And in the teen language - peace out! The adult translation is "May God be with you".

Now Is The Time

I read of the London bombings first on the Internet yesterday. I am not proud to say that the horrific nature of this crime against the people of Britain has not fully sunk in just yet. My world is too jaded for me to fully appreciate the severity and horror of that reality. There has been so much killing and destruction in the last few years that my brain is becoming numb to it. That is sad. This posting is my first attempt to do something about that.

So what will I do? Well, I will not give in to the terrorist's methods. They want to isolate the US. They do this by perpetrating acts of cowardice against innocent people. Now I just called the citizens of the UK and the US innocents. The terrorists would have you believe that the citizenry of a country is not innocent of their leader's actions. Well that is not quite true. That only applies to countries they do not like. Their countries however their citizens are innocent and the US and the UK have no right to be involved there.

So which is it? Are the non-military, non-government citizens of a country responsible for their leader's actions? Interesting question isn't it. You want to say "yes", but if you do, then you justify the terrorists. You want to say "no" but then you justify the US and UK governments. What a predicament.

I posit that the citizenry are mostly not responsible. How so? I am a citizen of the US. But I have no direct influence on individual military situations. As a citizen of a democracy, or at least a republic, your influence as a voting citizen does not extend to the day to day operations of the government or the military. Yet you are responsible for electing the leaders of that country. And as was the case in the late 1700's, those citizens have the responsibility to stand up to bad leadership. It happened again the mid 1800's when the citizens of the southern US thought the northern US states were doing a bad job. In both of those cases, there was armed conflict. In one, the uprising won, and the US exists. In the other, the uprising was defeated, and a whole US still exists. But I would argue that in both cases, the result has been that the US has improved in both circumstances.

Now this does not condone force to overthrow a government. It is an illustration of the fact that Americans believe that the citizens own their own country, and should take care of things themselves. And for a long time, the US held that isolationist attitude. And what happened? People in other countries berated the US and its citizenry for not being more involved in the world, to rid it of evil, and to make it a better place. After all, we had a lot of power, but we did little to improve the rest of the world for over 100 years.

This is how I feel. That other countries want our money. They want our help when they get into real trouble. But they don't want to help us. And they certainly don't want our interference. But in some countries, an elite minority retain such a choke hold on its populace that there is no one speaking for the ordinary citizens. In places like Iraq, they were tortured and killed for it. This is a fact. The government of Iraq used nerve gas against its own citizens. And then they moved against their neighbors.

Study history people. Germany after WWI was not a threat. Sure there was this one guy, kind of crazy, became their dictator, but he wasn't bothering us was he? Or was he? Once Hitler rose to power, he moved against his neighbors. And he tortured and killed his own citizens, the Jews and those that aided them. It wasn't until he invaded France that the UK and other countries realized that something needed to be done about it. However, their delay nearly lost them the war. The German war machine had grown very powerful without intervention from other countries.

And what were we doing in the US all that time? Waiting. And selling supplies to the UK and other Allies. Sure we took some hits in our shipping lanes. The Germans knew we could be a threat, even if all we did was to supply the Allies. So they sniped at our ships. But then, while we were all smug in our "hands off the world" approach to international relations, the Japanese launched a sneak attack against the US at Pearl Harbor. And thus the sleeping giant was awakened.

So now in this 21st century, we have different threats, but the same old evils, and the same old tired excuses for not being involved. The terrorists are no less lethal than the German U-Boats of WWII and they are no less threatening than the soldiers on the field. The difference is they fight in cowardice, attacking non-militants, men, women, and children alike. They do this because they fight from a position of weakness. It is accepted by all that in a conventional battle, few could stand against the combined might of the US and the UK. So they deal in terror. And people want to wait some more.

Now is the time. Now is the time to NOT yield to the cowards. Now is the time to unite against them. Their tactic is to isolate and destroy. Stand together and no nation on the earth can defeat the US with the UK and their allies. And those that would sit on the sidelines, entire countries in fear of a few terrorists, like France, to remember your past, and remember your pride. Do not let the terrorists win. Stand up. Now is the time.

He lived long and he prospered.

Live long and prosper. You do not have to be a Vulcan to use that phrase nor do you have to be one to live it. It is a simple phrase that underlies a deeper, more complex desire for one's personal goals, or one's best wishes for another's well being. Live long and prosper. May it be so for me.

As I write this, my grandfather passed away less than an hour ago. I just got the call about 15 minutes ago. As soon as I got off the phone, that was the phrase I thought of. My grandfather did just that. He lived long and he prospered. And though I am not fully equipped at the moment to write him a proper tribute or epitaph, I feel the need to write something. So here is a small tribute to one of the greatest men of the last century and who lived into this century, William Rumalo Brackenridge - or as I grew up calling him, Bill.

Bill was born 88 years ago on March 14, 1917. His grew up in Keiffer, West Virginia, a small town nestled in the rolling hills of Greenbriar County. Bill went to school in Rupert but according to the family he never went past the eighth grade. He chose to leave school and work. Bill has told me stories of only having a few biscuits to take to school for his lunch as a boy. He grew up in a very rural and very poor region during some of the hardest times of our country's history. But Bill did more than just survive, he thrived.

Perhaps it was that experience of such a hard childhood that enabled Bill to rise above the circumstances. Perhaps it was just hillbilly stubbornness. Or perhaps it was something more, something that comes from having your life steeped in the misty hills of West Virginia. I don't know. I prefer to believe that it was a matter of choice, determination, hard work and the providence of God, not merely birthright, genetics, or luck. Whatever it was, Bill was not content to merely survive for the rest of his life. He chose to do more than that.

Bill worked hard and was noticed at Carbon Fuel Company. He started in the warehouse and worked his way up. Way up. He retired from Carbon Fuel after becoming Superintendent of all surface mining operations across two states and superintendent of the company-owned railroad, the Winifrede Rail Road (WRR).

Bill may have never known how much I had always looked up to him, but I did. Bill was a hard man too. People who knew him knew this. But those who really knew him also knew he was a fair man. And if he is guilty of anything, it is he expected others to work as hard as he did, to respect others, and to take responsibility for your own actions. That was Bill. He represented a different age of America. He represented something that people now find offensive perhaps. He held you accountable for your actions. He called a spade a spade when that was the way it was. He held an American ideal that is fading, or already faded from our land.

But it has not faded with me. Bill is permanently ingrained into my head and my heart. He will forever be a part of who I am. And because of that, he also is a part of who my kids are. They knew Bill and I believe that I passed on my respect and love for him to them.

Bill had married my dad's mother on December 20, 1941. Yes, Bill is my dad's stepfather, not his biological father. And I know that those first years were hard, and there is no doubt that they surely clashed at times. But I know that Bill has always been there for my dad and likewise my dad has always been there for Bill. These two stubborn men have been united by that marriage and, as my father matured, they were united by much more than just that.

When my grandmother Clara died in September of 1994, I saw Bill's resolute determination continue. He was older, sadder, but he was still Bill. He was determined to continue on, and he even dared to thrive. I know that Bill loved Clara, of that there is no doubt. But Bill was not ready to spend the rest of his life alone. Bill married Brenda on November 18, 1998. He has spent his remaining years just being Bill.

So you may have never heard of Bill, or even William Rumalo Brackenridge, but I will always believe and assert that next to my father, Bill Brackenridge was one of the greatest men I have ever known.  And though I doubt Bill ever even watched an episode of Star Trek or knew of the phrase, he embodied that well known utterance of Mr. Spock. He lived long and he prospered. May it be so with me.

Hey buddy, can you spare a 3.3 L V6 engine for a fellow American?

In an earlier posting I wrote of my damaged engine. Well, I am still looking for an engine. And so far the costs are quite steep. This comes back to my position on cars. I hate cars. I hate having to have a car. Now I like the ability to move around independently in cars. But I wish they were something different. Something that lasts or something that is so inexpensive that an average American could buy a new one each year without going into debt.

So from my perspective in the high tech industry, the automotive industry moves at sub-glacial speed and is so far behind the development curve it is laughable. Modern computers have been around about 50 years, and though not perfect, the cost curve has shown the benefit of advancements in technology. Average people can afford personal computers now. Cars have been in existence for over 100 years and have NOT been perfected yet. And instead of costs going down, the cost of a car is still going up!

Now I understand that there is a lot of metal in cars and that as metal costs go up, so do the total costs. But, what about all the assemblies and subsystems. Why is every different model of car replete with its own custom assemblies and subsystems. Have you people ever heard of economy of scale? Reuse?

I guess my only hope is that the coming electics will eliminate so much of the mechanical problems. And that is what I see as the biggest set of problems: mechanical systems.

Now I will grant that this is only my opinion and I am not an auto mechanic though I have pretended to be one at times in an effort to save money. And for the most part, I can get around most mechanical systems on a car relatively easy. Until I get to the engine. Let's face it, an internal combustion engine is simply too complex to ever be reliable.

Wake up America! We need a revolution in the automotive industry. We are being held captive by the mechanical elite. It is borderline cult religion.

Think about it. The auto makers are the established church of the Internal Combustion Engine. The International Church of ICE. All those auto dealers and salesmen constitute the priests and missionaries. And those mechanics are the deacons of the church.

Welcome to the Church of ICE. Let our priests enlighten you to the joys of ICE. Embrace ICE and leave all reason and rational thought to those who would rather walk. Our deacons are always available to take care of your needs. ICE loves you. You need ICE. Come, be a part of ICE today. We do not require donations. We require all your money. You can't drive money to work can you now? So give it to us. Let us take you for a ride.

Learning To Breathe

For a long time I have belonged to the "married" category. At church I was a part of the "married couples". In social settings, I was the "husband of ..." or sometimes simply described as "the other half". I knew who I was as the other half. And it never really bothered me when they referenced my wife as "the better half". I have since come to understand that many people cannot handle being just half of the whole. Many people find a need to be their own person, and sadly, they do this apart from their "other half".

So here is where I become perplexed. Why does a woman or a man need to seek their own "personal identity" apart from their spouse. Assuming you marry for life, which was my assumption, you will never be single again unless you outlive your spouse. I know what many will think. That I am just being old-fashioned and that I obviously am some sort of fundamentalist or something. Well, perhaps you are right. But also consider the dangers if you are wrong.

If indeed I am old-fashioned, so what? Why is my idea of two people uniting to create one new identity, and then sharing in that identity the rest of their lives so wrong? Does it diminish the value of either? Does it reduce one in favor of the other? You don't know. You really can't generalize because it depends on the individuals who comprise the union. Yet if you presume there is one asserted over the other, you have a valid point. But if you presume that the two really become one, then are you just intolerant of my views or can you agree with them?

I believe in the sanctity of marriage. Marriage should be for life. Marriage should be kept pure. There should be no cheating, no abusing, and no over-lording of the one by the other. Marriage should be as God intended it, the perfect union of an imperfect man and an imperfect woman. I really don't care if you disagree. This space is for my opinion. You create your own space for your opinions.

However, I have now found myself in a new category. I now belong to the "divorced" category. It was not something I was seeking. In fact, I tried everything to avoid it. Yes, I am an imperfect man and she was an imperfect woman. But what really brought about the end was she sought her own identity, or rather her own life, apart from me. She abandoned the union for her own self interests. She sought divorce and thus ended the union.

It is difficult to not be bitter at times. It is truly difficult to even breathe sometimes. I do not mean that in the literal sense. My body is quite capable of respiration and extracting oxygen from the atmospheric gases. It is meant as a statement of the ability to just live each day. I have had to re-invent myself. I was married for 18 years. Being a single adult is actually quite a new experience. I was married when I was just 21. So I am learning to be "me" apart from "she".

At the same time, I have my two teenage kids at home full time. So I am still "dad" and she is still "mom". But it is difficult to be a single parent. Never underestimate that. It is very difficult. But I would not trade these difficulties for the easier path of not having my kids. I choose the harder path. I love my kids and I want them in my life to the fullest.

So as I write this, the song "Learning to Breathe", by Switchfoot, is going through my head. Though I may be somewhat misapplying it here, it is still fitting. I am learning to breathe. I am learning to be me, not me the husband, or me the married father. I am learning to be me the divorced dad of two teens. And I am also learning to be me, the single guy.

I will make mistakes there is no doubt. But along the way, I know I will do some things right. I am learning to breathe.

So in learning to be me the single guy, have I changed my mind about marriage and that a union means becoming one? Absolutely not. I believe that is the way it should be. Yet it is up to God as to my category. If God should choose that I remain single the rest of my life, then so be it. Only God really knows what is the "best" plan for my life. And I don't know it.

Yet, I also must say, that it is my prayer that God would bring me the right woman, the "better half", to complete a new union. In fact, I believe this may be the path that waits for me. I just do not know how long I must wait to find her. So until then, and until I have the other half to complete a union, I will continue to breathe each day.

I'm learning to breathe
I'm learning to crawl
I'm finding that You and
You alone can break my fall
I'm living again, awake and alive
I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies

A Dark, Knight's Tale

Once upon a time, there was a young knight who lived in a small village and was in training for the king's service. He met a girl with stunning red hair and a captivating smile from a neighboring village. The young man was smitten by this red-haired beauty and after courting this maiden several years, he married her.

Soon after marriage, they moved from their small village as his services to the king took him to other parts of the kingdom. They were madly in love and after a couple years of marriage, they were blessed with baby boy.

The king called the young knight to the southern part of the kingdom. And the knight and his tiny family moved south. It wasn't long after their arrival in the southern part of the kingdom that they were blessed with a baby girl. Life was good. They were in love. And they had two healthy children.

But a sickness came upon the fair maid, and she was dying. This was no ordinary sickness. It was the result of a dark spell cast by the most evil of creatures. A foul demon of hell itself. The knight wept bitterly. Their families wept. There seemed to be nothing they could do.

As the months dragged on, both the knight and the maid fell into despair. All their dreams were shattered and their life together seemed to slip past them like sand through your fingers. All was dark in the land. The young knight felt old, sad, and weary.

In his weariness, the young knight was weak. He tasted forbidden fruit and he mourned. He mourned for himself and he mourned for the death of his bride that was sure to come. He mourned that he was not stronger. He mourned that he was not wiser and could stop this curse and this sickness.

One night, his dying bride went to church and there met her Lord. The Lord healed the maid of her ailment and ended her curse. She hurried home to tell her husband. He was asleep after looking after his two active children. When she woke him, she told him of the miracle healing. This made the young knight happy and he vowed to then and there be stronger for his wife.

Yet, the curse had a lingering affect. Neither the knight nor his bride were ever the same. The knight became jealous and untrusting. The wife became withdrawn and selfish. Their children were not immune and they as well suffered. And in their suffering, they added to the chaos.

Still, the knight was quite happy. He was happy to have his wife and his children, and he was happy to work in the king's service. But the wife was not happy. The curse had both robbed her of something and yet left something behind. It is not quite clear what it was. Dark curses are never specific, never fully known. And over time, she became bitter and more selfish.

The knight, though try as he might, could not mend his wife. He left the south region and took his family to the western region of the kingdom to work in the king's service. The knight thought this may help his aging bride to regain her youthful love and compassion. But the knight did not know it was too late.

For years the bride had been exchanging secret messages with other knights and even peasants and soldiers. She sought a relief from her lingering curse. She could not accept that her husband could help her. She could not accept that she was under the curse still. She decided to do something about it herself.

One day the knight had to travel back to the south region in service to the king. He was to be gone for months. Upon his return, his wife had forsaken him. She had been in the bed of another knight and no longer held any desire for her husband. She thought him weak. She thought him an impotent shadow of himself. She wanted him gone from her life.

Again, the knight mourned. But now he was much older, and somewhat wiser, and he bitterly mourned. He felt so much older, so much sadder, and more weary than ever in his life. And yet this time, he vowed that he would be strong. And he was. He did not succumb to temptation now. His courage was mustered, and his mind steeled against all attempts to move him from the straight path.

The knight bravely faced his wife, his children, and their past, and vowed to God to stand for what was right. And though he made some tactical errors along the way, he did as he vowed. His wife could not believe it. Her weak husband had not reacted as she thought. Where she expected weakness, there was strength. Where she expected defiance, there was remorse. And where she expected hatred, there was love.

In frustration and desperation, she fled. She left the knight and her children and ran away. She ran to a neighboring village and sought shelter in an inn. And from there she petitioned the king to be released from her vows to her husband.

Over the months, the knight ceased his mourning. He awoke one morning and saw that the darkness had lifted from the land. It had been over a decade since he had seen the sun shining so brightly on the world. His spirit was filled with vigor, strength, and resolve. He looked after his children, and he continued his service to the king. He saw each new dawn as another start. He felt younger. He felt stronger. And he felt more alive.

Finally, one morning, without fanfare, without regalia, the wife went to the king's court to obtain the release from the marriage to her husband. It was granted. Quietly and swiftly, as easily as a candle is snuffed out, so ended the marriage of the knight and his wife.

Do not mourn gentle reader. The knight lived on and with his children, built a new foundation for their tiny family. And by God's grace, they grew stronger and wiser. We know not what happened to the wife. Perhaps this story is not complete. Perhaps she has her own story yet to write.

A happy ending it does not appear to be. Yet a happy ending cannot so easily be determined by mortals. Rest yourselves dear reader. God is in control and all His endeavors are good. We must simply wait for them to be displayed. And we must be ready to wait, even unto the Last Day, in order that we may see it as He would have us know it.