I'm On The Hunt

I am a born hunter. Does that mean my wardrobe is half camo and I'm out freezing my nuts off waiting for stray wildlife? Nope. But I am a MAN, and we're born hunters. We've been evolutionarily wired to be focused on the kill....or the show we're watching, or the hottie that walked by, or project we're working on.....whatever is at hand. It's a good thing. Men are good focusing at the task at hand and achieving the objective, even if that objective is sitting on the couch and chillin'. We're pretty good at that.

BUT, that focus comes at a price.We're so focused that we men have developed a finely honed skill women call selective listening. We're not ignoring you...really. We're just focused on something else. Don't think that just because we're watching Jerry Springer we don't want to know whose baby it is. Now is not the time for discussion. We're focused.

Another victim of our hunter's focus? Finding things among a bunch of other things. What are we, Gatherers? No! We're Hunters. That's why men hate shopping for their women. Just go to the womens department in any department store. It's like playing the fashion version of "Where's Waldo?" I'll ask the sales person, "I'm looking for this suit, but in a size 6." Her answer is invariably,"What ever we have is out there." Uh-huh. I start foraging, looking through piles of stuff, looking for a familiar glint of fabric. Finally, I stumble across my prize, hiding behind a misplaced hoodie from the juniors section. Can it be? Yes! Size 6.....petite. Arrrrrgghhh. This would never happen in the mens department where things are arranged by item and size. Men on the hunt can locate their prey with GPS like efficiency. The whole operation takes but a few minutes saving precious time for sitting on the couch and chillin'.

So remember, forgive my apparent shortcomings. My hunter insticts are just highly developed.

Image Isn't Everything

Sometimes it takes someone to love you to realize you're worth loving. For years I tried to live up to an image I thought would be worthy of love. I built what seemed like an impressive resume of talents, accomplishments, status. Did all that effort get me the love I thought I deserved? Of course it did not. In fact Love ran away, leaving me feeling un-deserving, un-worthy - not to mention heartbroken. I'll spare you the sob story, only to tell you It Sucked.

As I picked up the pieces of my life, I picked up some life-lessons too. I learned that I had spent more energy trying to be loveable than loving. Now I make more of an effort to love those around me. I don't know if I'm closer to that image I had earnestly strived for. It doesn't really matter. Images aren't worthy of love. But now I am. Maybe even loveable.

Trippin' Through Memory Lane

Isn't it sad when you see people who just can't accept their age. You know, that older guy with the comb-over and an earring. Or the older woman in the leopard-print mini. Well maybe there's a little bit of that in all of us. Let's face it. No fun getting older.

I was just reminded of that this weekend when I donned a pair of Heelys, you know the shoes with the wheels in the heels. Can't go to a mall without getting cut off by a kid cruisin' by. Actually, they seem kinda cool in an efficient sort of way. Hell, until they put people movers in the malls instead of just airports, perhaps they're the way to go. Well my kids are not immune to trends, so they both have a pair of Heelys. Now some may be suprized to know they come in Men's Size 11. Yes, but I'm sure they weren't intended for Men's Age 40.

Now, I could lie to you and say I bought the Heelys so that I could be hip Dad. But truth be told, I've had mine longer than my kids. I don't know if a 40 year old guy on a pair of Heelys is on par with the comb-over and earring, but I can attest it's a lot more dangerous.

While my nine-year old and his friend zoomed safely down my driveway into the cul-de-sac, my trip took a different route - one that began in the driveway, passed through a really clean ambulance, and ended in an operating room at Howard County General. To remember the experience, a souvenir I'll keep with me always is a metal plate and several screws holding my ankle together. (And I thought airport security was fun before.)

So as I convalesce at home, I feel a little foolish. But looking on the brighter side, although this injury is not age appropriate, at least I'm not suffering from other inflictions that are age appropriate: male pattern baldness, heart disease, ulcers.......erectile disfunction. Things could be worse.

OOOOWWWWW!!!

Mike. There You Are!

So it's been a while since I posted. Guess that's what happens when you get swept up in a new romance. You know how it is. Friends call and wonder what happened to you. Pals start driving by the house checking for signs of life. Co-workers over-use the phrase, "You look so happy!" Now who doesn't love this? It's great!

Funny thing about being in a couple again. It brings out the best in me. Not that I'm not self sufficient, mind you. Since being single again after being married for so long, I've discovered that I can exist very well in this world (cue Gloria Gaynor). It sounds cliche, but I found myself during this period. Which begs the question, 'Where have I been all this time?' In a word...hiding.

Hiding behind the complacency and contentment of family life. Hiding talents and plans in lieu of responsibility and obligation. Holding back and using the mantle of 'Dad' as an excuse to stay in the safe zone. Not all a bad thing here. I love being a dad, and responsibility comes with the territory. However, as my family life changed so drastically, that safe zone collapsed. Time to try new things.

Of course some ventures didn't quite take. Examples: I took a trip to Dewey Beach with some younger, single friends. Picture a beach house with dozens of people "sleeping it off" strewn all over the floor. Then picture a guy pushin' forty, soberly looking around saying to himself, "What the hell am I doing here?" Picture this same guy on a first date with a girl in her early twenties (she looked much older when I asked her out!). What was I thinking (exept for the momentary self congratulations)? That's right. "What the hell am I doing here?" This sure wasn't Mike-the-family-man groomed for so many years. But it sure wasn't the new and improved Mike either. Eventually emerging from this primordial ooze was Mike version 2.0. Debugged but still a bit quirky. A work in progress, but stay tuned for future enhancements.

Getting back to my new romance. It's feels fresher. Not just because it's new. The big difference is me. Now I can complete a relationship, rather than a relationship completing me. I'm not hiding in the many comfortable, safe zones a relationship offers. And my new girl, Georganne, is wonderful. She brings a love of life and family that few can boast. She like's me for me. And that's not always easy. As all of her friends have told me, I'm lucky. I agree.

Going Full Circle

When I was a pre-teen, my prep school eased into the concept of school dances by introducing the students to Square Dancing. Before I realized how square it truly was, I honestly enjoyed it. Everone danced and had a role in ensuring the group successfully completed the routines yelled out by the caller. It was fun. It was interactive. It was.....pretty lame. I guess cowboy dances are kinda cool to a ten-year old.

How could I have known then that some years later, I'd get the same thrill dancing Rueda. 'What is Rueda?' you ask. It is a form of Salsa that is danced as a group in a circle. The steps are similar to regular Salsa, but there are two defining characteristics of Rueda. First, all the couples in the circle do the same combinations as directed by a caller. Second, in Rueda there are very frequent partner changes. Partners are passed around, or men go from woman to woman. Kind of a Salsa Mix. You may have gotten a taste of Rueda in the movie Dance with Me with Vanessa Williams (Go ahead, 'fess up. I know some of you have seen it.)

Now I'd never stop doing regular Salsa. First, there's nothing like connecting with a partner one-on-one on the dance floor. Second, dancing as a group limits individual expression, and sometimes this boy has to heat it up! Guess I like my Salsa a little picante!

Example of a Rueda Circle

TiVo, Here I Come!

I work with the best people! All year long, my team bust their collective butts and make me look good. Then after putting up with all the corporate crap, mostly from upper management (and some from me), they go out and get me an awesome holiday gift. TiVo. Even the name is cool. It's a noun. It's a verb. It's......waiting for me to set it up. I'm confident, though, that this won't be a repeat of the infamous WiFi Incidence of 2003. That drama was epic. It had everything - a valiant quest for knowledge, plot-twists, unlikely heroes, villians (Comcast). By the end, I laughed, I cried, I called customer service.

Now the promise of customized programming in the palm of my hand awaits temptingly in its box. Just think, all that digital entertainment yielding itself to my very whim. It can almost make a grown man cry. Throw in the ability to skip over commercials, and the only question that comes to mind is why Mr. TiVo hasn't won the Nobel Peace Prize.

Ironically, I'm not a huge TV watcher. Sure, I have a few shows that I'll follow, but overall I'm a catch-it-if-I-can kinda guy. Problem now is that with TiVo, I can. I'm beginning to think there was an alterior motive behind this gift. Perhaps a ploy to keep the boss occupied. Hhmmm. I'll have to look into that. But first, I gotta lot of shows to catch up on.

So I've Read...

Miss Elizabeth Bennet, beloved heroine of Pride and Prejudice, proclaimed, "I am not a great reader, and I have pleasure in many things.'' Such could have been befittingly attributed to me , for I was never a prolific reader in my younger years.

It wasn't until I started travelling for work that I began affinity to the written word. Needing something to do on airplanes, I began to read popular fiction like Grisham and Crichton. Although I only averaged one or two novels a year, I felt like I was feeding my brain some long needed stimulus - allowing my mind to form images that TV and movies spoon-fed without regard to my decaying gray matter.

When life dealt me a challenge that dominated my every thought and emotion, I desperately needed a diversion from life. I escaped into books, devouring dozens of them. Troubling thoughts could be put on hold, sent to the waiting room until I decided to open the door. My mind and heart were free to roam fictitious worlds, caring for characters I've met only on the page.

Though difficult times are behind me, one legacy is a love of reading. No longer an escape to hide from life's difficulties, reading feels more like mental spa. I only wish I could get a back massage as part of the deal.

Baby Let's Cruise

Five single guys go on a cruise. Many might say that either sounds like the makings of a "gay cruise" or a recipe for "trouble." I'm happy to report neither was true. My friend, Brad, rallied five of us to go on a cruise in search of good times and to escape the daily grind. The promise of frozen drinks on deck, gambling chips in hand, and possible onboard romance lured us to an eight day adventure at sea.

I could not have asked for better group of friends to travel with. Not a dud in the group. No attitude, no posturing, no competition. All of us are professional, outgoing, and pretty natural talking with the girls onboard. No matter what else was going on, the party always seemed to be where we were. Especially at the piano bar. That was our usual evening routine - rousing a bar-wide sing-a-long to well after 1AM. Then it was off to the dance club where we'd dance to music way too young for us. Finally ending up on the Lido deck for 24hour pizza at 4AM. Repeat the next day.

As for onboard-romances, I'll have to keep that within the circle. Let's just say that stories of biters, deep-talkers, coffee girls, stinkers etc. will be told for years to come. Interesting thing about cruises, or maybe vacations in general, the threshold for action is a lot lower. Maybe it's the knowledge that it's not the real world, and that what happens isn't really real either. Sounds more like rationalization. But who am I to spoil the fun?

In the end, I learned a few things. 1) Losing your voice singing every day at the piano bar makes it impossible to compete in the karaoke finals. 2) The crew are definitely not supposed to get frisky with the guests. If they do, they get a talking to by Captain Capusti. 3) Don't bring sand to the beach at the Plaza de Mercado. Rookie mistake (sorry Brad).

A-MAZE-ING JOURNEY

A few weeks ago, I took my kids to see Luray Caverns in the Shenandoah Mountains of Virginia. Luray Caverns are a spectacular natural wonder that is absolutely breathtaking and awe-inspiring to behold. Next to the entrance to the caverns is a garden maze that is made up of 1500 eight-foot high arborvitae trees that cover over an acre.

It took us nearly an hour to find all the checkpoints and then to find our way out. For my kids and me, it was an absolute blast, while at the same time, utterly frustrating. We took turns taking the lead - often leading each other to dead-ends or by landmarks that became familiar after several unintentionl passes. Sometimes we'd forget about finding the our way, and focused instead on chasing each other around, or jumping out from around turns to scare the bejeezus out of one another.

When we finally reached the end, there were high fives all around, and we congratulated ourselves on our mastery of the maze. But the pride we felt at completion pales in comparison to the memories we made being together in the maze. I'll always hold dear in my heart the sounds of laughter from my kids as I chase them through the trees, shrieks of surprise as I jump out from behind a corner, our shared excitement over finding a new landmark. And this trip through the maze is, of course, just a microcosm of life. It's not about the destination, it's about finding your way, having fun, and sharing the journey.

Tuning Up

Last week I had a piano tuner come by and, well what do you expect? He tuned the piano. Anyway, he was an interesting fellow, an older gentleman who has had his share of loss. But he was very emphatic that he is happy today. As he brought my old piano back into tune, he began to explain that he has embraced the freedom of now. Kind of a Carpe Diem approach to life.

The freedom of now means being in the present, focusing on doing your best and doing what makes you happy now. He explained that focus on today allows you to release the regret and pain of yesterday. It also relieves the pressure of tomorrow. Do what's right today and tomorrow will take care of itself. Even if what's right today turns out to be wrong tomorrow, you'll fix it when tomorrow becomes today. Hhhhmmm.

Now I've always been of the design school of thought. You know, live by design leads to happiness by design. The major flaw I've discovered with this is that there's only two possible outcomes - success or failure. Happiness or unhappiness. I realize now that life is not that binary. Nor is it linear or formulaic. Life is dynamic, uncertain, and often out of tune. Sometimes, you just have to tune it up.

Just Wingin' It

Icarus, full of youthful arrogance and pride, ignored his fathers warnings and flew so high, that the sun melted his wings. Icarus fell into the sea and perished. Poor Icarus. But why am I writing about greek fables? Well, because we're supposed to learn from them. You see, Icarus could be my middle name. I've been that arrogant. I've flown that high. It's great when you're up there, but it is an awful long way to fall. And there were times I, too, thought I'd perish.

But unlike Icarus, I've had many angels come to my rescue. All of you know who you are. Each of you has breathed a little life back into me. You're even teaching me to fly again. I can't say I deserve it, but I hope to. With my new wings, perhaps I'll be an angel too.

Let the Music Play

When I was a boy, my parents loved to listen to Simon and Garfunkel. I remember listening to those sweet harmonies riding in the back of my parent's Datsun station wagon. Then came the Eagles, the Beach Boys, Elton John, the Beatles, just to name a few. These were the groups that I learned to sing along with and became the foundation of my early music experience.

In 1972, my parents brought me to see the Sound of Music. It was the first time I'd seen a musical, a whole story be told in song. I loved it. Later, we watched West Side Story, South Pacific, White Chrismas, Viva Las Vegas...you name it, if it was a musical, I wanted to see it. I became a devotee to the genre - a passion that endures to today.

The gift of music is such a wonderful part of my life. I love to sing along to it, love to dance to it, love to watch it performed, love to play it on the piano. I've never really said thank you to the two people who gave me this gift, my parents, Lana and Raymond. So Mom and Papa, Thank you. Love, Your Son.

Don't they look young!

Male Call

I just re-read my last post (below) and wow, do I sound a little light in the loafers. I kinda like the flow of the text so I won't edit it, but rather, I'm gonna provide some fair balance in this post. You see, I'm a self proclaimed renaissance man, and by definition, I have a broad variety of interests, including some very typically male pursuits. See for yourself.

Sports: Believe it or not, I'm a decent athelete. Growing up on the beaches of Los Angeles , volleyball was de rigeur, and for years, I competed in intramural and regional leagues. In college, I fenced saber for UCLA and even made all-state my last two years. Nowadays, I like catching sports on TV. While not a die-hard fan of any team in particular, I will go to a game or two.

Cars: Mobile sculpture. Art and science transporting society to the future. Man, I should be in marketing. Anyway, I love cars. You'll frequently find me meeting up with other car guys at local cruise-ins and auto-shows. And now, on TV there are so many shows dedicated to the motoring cogniscenti. Shows like Overhaulin', Rides, American Chopper, etc. Those are my reality shows. In fact, check out my other blog site where I highlight some of my favorite rides: http://drivinginstyle.blogspot.com/.

Women: Ah yes. The fairer sex. I'll explore this one further on future posts. Suffice it to say that there's a very healthy interest here...yes, very healthy.

D.C. METRO

No, this is not a post about mass transportation in the Washington area. Nope, D.C. Metro is a term that has been fairly, or unfairly, applied to me. Before I delve into why, let me state up front - I'm all man. Look up man in the dictionary, and there's a picture of me in front of Hooters, holding fresh kill from the hunt. Ok, so I'm exaggerating - but haven't you come to expect that from my previous posts?

Anyway, this man also loves to cook, likes to dress well, enjoys the arts, loves to sing and dance, etc. As a consequence, my female friends have labelled me "metro-sexual." While the term may have merit, it sounds awfully close to another label that most men have been avoiding since junior high. So I have a collection of Mezlan shoes. So my jeans say I'm Lucky. I can also sing along with Les Miserable and prepare basil in a perfect chiffonade. Sure, I'd have a better chance telling you who played the lead role in Sunset Blvd. (Glenn Close) than who was the winning quaterback in last year's Super Bowl. What does it all mean? Guess it means I'm D.C. Metro.

So I'll send you off with a little metro tip. Next time you want to impress with dessert, wrap pieces of banana in spring-roll wrappers. Fry them until they're golden brown. Cut and arrange them around vanilla or coconut ice-cream. Drizzle with honey and/or chocolate and garnish with berries or mint. Voila, metro stylin' in the kitchen.

Fine Wine or Sour Grapes?

Who said that men, like fine wine, get better with age? Probably not a man. If it was, he was in denial, a very common male trait. Hide the vulnerabilities with the right amount of posturing. Spin the situation with a catchy euphamism, and voila, Macho Man lives on. Well I for one ain't buyin' it. As a young man, it was volleyball four days a week. Throw in there the determined quest for the ultimate donut shop, or 3AM food runs at Tommy's (UCLA's answer to "Which chiliburger can induce acid reflux the fastest?") Heap on dozens of other abuses and still, I always managed to rebound in time for the next game.

Fast forward to my current state. What state is that, you ask? The state where forty is just over the border. The state where an hour and a half volleyball match comes with a mandatory sentence of life with pain. The state where Krispy Kreme should be a controlled substance, but instead it's been legalized to keep minorities down. Hum, I've never played the race card before. I'm just throwing that in for dramatic effect. Hey, it works for democrats ;-)

OK. I know. I've painted a pretty one-sided view on aging. With age comes experience and wisdom. I recognize the life lessons I've learned along the way. I appreciate that life is more about fulfillment than fun. Fatherhood is way more demanding than spanking the ball down hard-cross. And the game ain't over when the whistle blows. I guess I am getting better with age. I'm equipped with better tools for life's real challenges. Now if only my shoulder would stop aching.

Working for a Living

Yeah. I'm one of those people who actually likes his job. I work for a large pharmaceutical company - you know, the ones getting lambasted by the media and hungry lawyers. I know I'm going to sound like I drank the company kool-aid, but I really believe that we are not only adding years to peoples lives, but also adding life to people's years. Sounds like corporate speak, but I'm not asking everyone to buy into it.

For the last several years, I've been working in osteoporosis, a disease which results in millions of fractures every year. Over a decade ago, I started working on the clinical trials for what is now the leading treatment for osteoporosis. Now I manage a regional sales team supporting specialists in the disease. I am amazed at how far we've come since I first started. What was a "boutique" area of medicine has become a mainstream part of women's health.

I love knowing that the better I do my job, many more patients will live healthier. So when I say I'm working for a living, I guess I really mean that I'm working for the living.

Apple of My Eye

Kiana, my wonderful daughter, instantly became the apple of my eye. She was perfect from day one, absolutely beautiful. She is the biggest joy in my life. Kiana makes everyone laugh with her off-the-wall comments and silly humor. Unlike her brother, she's a bit shy. But once she's found her comfort zone, she loves to be in the mix of things.

The most endearing thing about Kiana is how much she loves her brother, Jordan. He is her best friend and she loves being around him, even when he's being a pain in the neck. Kiana also loves good food. I believe she has quite the gourmet palette for a nine-year old. Everything from sushi to ribeyes or from brocolli to zuccini. She loves it all, with the exception of fruit. Don't ask me why.

Having Kiana as my daughter has also been very humbling. She and I are so different, and I've come to realize I need to embrace and accomodate those differences. I often think I learn more from her than she from me. And that's the greatest thing about Kiana...she enriches everyone around her. I am very blessed to be her dad.

Let's hear it for the boy!

I promised I'd be writing about my family, so I'll start with my man. Jordan is really a wonderful kid. He is just plain nice. Possessing a wonderful ease around others, he makes friends instantly. He's naturally inquisitive, continually asking "why? and how?". Never shy, and fun-loving by nature, Jordan is always up for anything. In fact, one of the most common things I hear is, "Sure Dad." What an absolute blessing he is. In May, he turned eight which marks eight wonderful years with him in my heart. Let's hear it for the boy! Let's hear it for my Man!

Salsa - Spice it up.

In grade school I took Latin. I went to a prep school where the headmaster also taught Latin - so it was obligatory. Now I'm into Latin again. This time it's Latin Dancing. Since I found myself single again, I started looking into new interests. Some just fell by the wayside (like working out ... not a gym guy). But one thing that has stuck is Salsa. My parents are avid ballroom dancers, and one evening I followed them to a Salsa class. What I found was that I really enjoyed the partnering aspect of social dancing. I was raised in the 80's so I grew up dancing to the music stylings of Madonna, Duran Duran, The Cure etc. But I never learned more structured dance, the art of the lead, and how fun learning new combinations can be.

Thanks to my salsa instructors, Grace and Hugo, I know enough to make it through a song without totally boring my partner - simple turns, cross body leads, a few fancier things, enough to make it a fun evening. I used to feel intimidated with only knowing a few combinations. It took me a while to ask anybody to dance when I went to a latin club. It doesn't help that I'm basically shy about the club scene. But now my confidence is budding and I'm starting to get out there more.

Living right in between DC and Baltimore, I'm surprized at how many places there are to dance Salsa in the area. You can find a "Latin Night" almost every day of the week. The best in the area is Gardel's near Baltimore's Little Italy. An upscale dinner club with Salsa on Saturdays, Gardel's features terrific dance floors on three levels. In D.C. there are a lot of options. Some of the most popular are Zanzibar, Carribean Breeze, and Cecilia's (incl. NoVA to be exact).

So come on. Spice your life up. Find those hidden interests and get out there!

Women Read Into Things

Let me say up front that I love and respect women. But geeeessshhh. Women are complicated!!! Women have the wonderful ability to pick up on things that would go un-noticed by most even the most sensitive of men. And women process these observations and form opinions based on what they observe. The problem is that sometimes there is nothing beyond the surface. Particularly with men. Men are pretty simple and often transparent. But that won't stop a woman from forming an opinion anyway.

For example: If I pick up a piece of trash from the floor, I'm thinking, "This needs to be thrown out." On the other hand, a woman may think, " Why is he picking up trash? Does he think I don't clean well? Maybe he's a neat freak. Does he think I can't pick up my own trash? Maybe by picking up the trash, he thinks I'll owe him something later. Who is he to pick up my trash? Doesn't he respect my boundaries? Maybe I wanted that trash there. How dare he. Or, maybe he's just being nice. Oh, how wonderful. He'd make a great dad. I can see him changing the toilet paper roll. Let's see what he does next."

Oh well. Vive la difference!!

Karaoke

Now come on. Admit it. We all like to sing when we're by ourselves, right? From singing in the car to humming at work, we all do it. I just take it to the next level. Not that my singing ability is at the next level...only my enthusiasm. I have hundreds of mp3 files of karaoke versions of popular songs. Along with downloaded lyrics, I'm all set. While not as elegant as the true karaoke with the words metered out on screen, it suits me fine. I can sing to my hearts content, secure from the certain embarassment I'd endure at a real karaoke club. At home, or on the road thanks to my iPod, I've got the ability to belt out really poor imitations of Elvis, Sinatra, Creed, U2 and many others who would be appalled at my effort. But since they're not around I'll continue indulging my singing fantasy.

Now I know I'm not the only one. As a matter of fact, I caught this bug from a friend at work who is way into this. Being a professional DJ, he's got the total studio set-up with thousands of songs. In addition, he has an incredible voice that would make even American Idols envious.

Of course,I've subjected others to this pathology. Some seem as inflicted as I am, getting into it with equal fervor. Others roll their eyes and probably plug their ears when I'm not looking. But unlike most men, or women for that matter, I'm proud to say "I love showtunes!"

GTO - A Family Car

So you noticed my screen name "GTO Bruin." Let me explain. I'm very attached to my car. This is not an uncommon trait among men (or boys if you must point out the obvious). Of course, I'm not talking about basic transportation here. I'm talking classic American muscle spelled with only three letters G-T-O. For those of you who need to be enlightened (I promise the condescension will be short lived), back in the 60's, GM's Pontiac Division ushered in the muscle car era with the GTO. The year, 1964 marked the first year of the GTO and also marked the year my parents, Lana and Raymond, were married. That year, they purchased the black convertible which now graces my garage. In this car, I had my first car ride home from the hospital. So you see, it is much more that just a car. It is part of my family. Like all my family members, my GTO will be highlighted throughout my musings on this site. Check out more pics in the link section.

First Entry

Ok. So I've created a blog. I'm sure like most people, wondering, "How much do I have to say on a regular basis that I would need such a space?" Or even worse, "Who in the world is even interested in what I have to say?" Well enough of this negative thinking. I am interesting, aren't I? I mean I have lots of friends, lots of interests, etc. Seems I got what it takes to have a blog. If for anything else, I can type well and I have pretty good grammar. That's gotta count for something. I'm pretty sure it counts for something.

OK folks. Here's a preview of what's to come. I'm going to start out discussing me. Before anybody starts headin' for the "Back" button, don't worry, it get's better. I'm gonna touch upon a few favorite topics, cars, romance, friends and family, pastimes, and work.

So as my blog title says, "Come on in. Stay a while."