Another Evening to Forget

Seventeen days ago, I told you about the joy of returning home to find our carpet decimated and Buddy attempting to digest the tiny pieces that Cleo had so successfully dislodged.

Since then, we have had new carpet installed. All should be well. It has been, in fact, until tonight...

But wait. Before I can tell you about tonight, let me tell you about my day at work.

Arrive. Get tea. Earl Grey. Work on an e-mail I should have sent yesterday. I craft e-mails; they need to be precise. Or else I spend twice as much time trying to follow up. Anyway, I have a meeting in which we discuss onboarding. A new type of torture implemented by my company. We're in the Darth Vader building after all. That's an hour. Painful. Next a status meeting. A project that's ready to deploy. Today, in fact. We were to deploy at 3:30. Fine, fine.

Pause

Continuing to craft the e-mail. And other stuff. E-mails fly at my inbox like rabid pigeons. I answer each volley. But like a hydra, the e-mails spawn more. This constant admin gives way to a strategy meeting. Cringing. Stomach in knots. Lunatic perceptions and darksome conclusions. I won't elaborate here. Not yet. It ends, thankfully, and I move to counter yet more e-mails with my vicious backhand.

Coughee with Tara. I vent.

Weekly status meeting with a client in OK City. He likes to talk. On to a status meeting for a project that boggles the mind and soul. Next I venture to the desk of our deployer - not to be confused with our destroyer - and ask how the deployment of the standardization pieces are coming. The standardization pieces had to come before the other projects that needed to be deployed today. The deployer and the developer responsible for the standardization pieces smile gleefully as they work through some 'small' items.

Another status meeting for another project for another client. Then more work for the client we love to hate. I return to the deployer. Not yet deployed. Impeding the progress of the other project deployments, I say. They know, they know. Another status meeting for another project for another client.

I return a third time. Problems. Problems? I ask. Problems. Damn, both sides of my brain exclaim. The standardization pieces are stuck in environmental limbo. And my other projects won't deploy. Great. Project managers don't look good when this kind of thing happens.

But I have to go. Tutor for an hour. Race to the bus. Sit on the bus. Tired. Walk home. Want to sit and eat and then blog and perhaps accomplish a few other things.

Walk in the door. Ah, the fragrance wafting from the dogs' room. The putrid smell emanating from Buddy's crate. Drag the crate outside. Spray the crate. Spray the dog. Cleo needs food. Feed her. Close Buddy in the garage. Bring him inside. Bathe him in the guest bath tub. Dry him off. He vomitousnesses all over the bathroom floor. Appetizing. He goes back into the garage. Towel the floor. Wash the towels. Clean the bathroom. Notice the overpowering smell is giving me a headache. Start lighting candles and opening windows. Not freezing but cold enough to start turning the hands and feet blue. Check on Buddy. Sick in dribblets in the garage. A little bleach'll do 'em good. Bleach 'em. No, not Buddy, the dribblets. Back inside. Have to take the garbage out. Might as well while I'm cleaning. Cleo surveys my progress; she approves. Walk into the garage preparing the trash. Buddy relieves himself just beyond the potty pads I've laid but not quite on my foot. Enjoyable. I recommend it. Open the garage door. Get the hose. Spray the chocolate colored waste out into the grass. Wrestle Buddy back into the garage where he sits obediently thinking that I'm going to spray him again. He shivers. I clean the crate. Cleo whines when I get back in. She thinks she's missing something exciting. I tell her to go away. Put the towels in the dryer. Shave. Yeah, weird, I know. But it was annoying me. Check on Buddy. Nothing bad. Prepare finances for tomorrow when our checks clear. Yes, weird, I know; we've established that. Check on Buddy. Seems okay. Lighter on his feet. Happier, I guess. I let him in.

He's sitting at my feet as I blog. Haven't eaten yet. Stomach's just about calmed down. And here comes Joseph home from his 6-10 Thursday evening class. I think I'll end here. And maybe eat...

Video of the Week: A Reason to Dance

We have our World Series Champions of 2008. Alas, Tampa, you'll need to work your way back. And it can happen. But this year it's the National League that can boast. For all those Phillies fans I don't know, here ya go. A June 2008 game against yesterday's reigning World Series Champions...

Corporation... Continued IV

Work... Exertion of effort directed to produce or accomplish something (Dictionary.com).

So, if I'm not accomplishing anything in particular during my day, even if I'm exerting myself constantly, can I consider it work?

The last time we chatted, I spoke more about Six Sigma and the company vision. Well, I'm proud to announce that the company now has a vision. I can't say that I'm overly proud to announce what that particular vision is, but we'll get to that.

It has been three weeks on the proverbial nose since I last brought you word of the happenings on the 9th floor in the Darth Vader Building. The CEO and President went to Dallas to suggest a strategy for moving the company forward. The strategy focused mainly on acquiring new bankruptcy servicing contracts so that the company does not have to attain the capital to purchase accounts and wait inordinate amounts of time for the return. Lone Star thought it a good idea; better stated, they thought it one good idea.

It seems - as a I discussed last time - that collecting on bankrupt debt promises to become a heck of a lot more difficult in the coming years. Especially for those companies - mine - that collect on unsecured bankrupt debt. In short, debtors have to pay back their debt now. And most don't have the money to pay back all the debt. Some declare bankruptcy. Most of those who will declare bankruptcy will have very little money. Those who do have a little money will concentrate on paying back the secured debt. What does that mean for companies that are collecting on unsecured bankrupt debt (that's us)? Zilch. Nada. Zero.

So, Lone Star said that servicing is a great idea since we wouldn't have to put up any money; we'd just get the fees. But it can't be the only idea. A company that can't diversify in tough times is doomed to failure. And thus, Ed and Rui returned talking about servicing non-bankrupt debt. In short, collections. Dismissed bankrupt accounts (accounts belonging to those who could not sustain a bankruptcy for whatever reason). First and second lien mortgage deficiencies. Second lien mortgage delinquencies. Don't ask me the difference between deficiency and delinquency, I haven't looked it up yet.

Combine this 'suggestion' from Lone Star with the fact that our company is also in the process of becoming interconnected with two other Lone Star subsidiaries: Accredited Home Lenders and CIT Bank. I'm presently working on a project for CIT Bank out of Oklahoma City. But I'm not going to talk about them at any length here since I'm already far too wordy.

I will, however, talk about Accredited Home Lenders. Lest I get some of the specifics wrong, let's just say that Lone Star owns Accredited (it is more complicated than that). Accredited - one of the premiere subprime home lenders for the past 3-5 years - can no longer originate subprime loans. Go figure. They have consolidated, significantly. They once had three offices packed to the gills with employees in Cincinnati, OH; San Diego, CA; and Lake Mary, FL. They have necessarily consolidated down to one office, San Diego, where they will work their much reduced portfolio of accounts. That leaves the Ohio and Florida shops to close.

Well, Lone Star and our company leaders had an idea. We could take over one of those offices for our own new collections line, especially since those offices essentially specialize in the types of collections - except for dismissal collections - in which my company would like to be involved. In the process, we might even be able to save a few jobs down in Florida.

About two weeks ago, I was invited to a meeting that included about 14 other people in the company. It was in that meeting that Ed - the CEO - made the announcement that we would be opening a new office in Lake Mary, FL and that it needed to be operational by the end of the year, i.e. 12/31/2008. Rui - the President - was put in charge of the effort to give birth to the new company.

After that meeting, everything took a turn for the incredibly insane. Rui asked my boss if I could be the Project Manager that helped to lead the way into Florida. My boss agreed. And so, my projects are being offloaded one by one as I ramp up for work on this new business model.

Oh, and have I mentioned that 40% of my weeks these past three weeks have been devoted to Six Sigma training off site? And it's supposed to be next Monday and Tuesday too. But no...

I'm going to Florida. Leaving on Sunday. Coming back on Wednesday. Just found out yesterday.

Crazy turn of events.

And then I remembered, voting! I need to vote. So, that means voting will need to happen in the next couple of days before I leave.

Finally, a coincidence. This will mark the second time in my life that I will be just outside Orlando for an election, I who have no real connection to Orlando in any way, shape, or form. I was there 16 years ago visiting Disney World, and on the final night I watched as Bill Clinton became the first and only Democrat I've ever seen elected to the White House. Odd...

Well, there you have it. My life is nothing if not consistently interesting. For now, I exert significant amounts of effort and feel as though I am accomplishing next to nothing...

More to come...

Another Saturday: Bouncing

Woke up Saturday morning. Thank God for that. Putzed around a little. Watched some Yankeeography. David Cone. Derek Jeter. Joseph left to study. I putzed around some more.

Then brought myself to the computer to work. I turned to the SIPOC page in the binder the size of an elephant's ear. Lean Six Sigma. I've mentioned it before. I'm in training as we speak. Monday and Tuesday for four weeks. I'm in the third week. And Clint - our trainer - had the gumption to give us homework.

The SIPOC. Reminiscent of Spock's crazy half brother (Sybok) from the worst Star Trek movie in existence (V), this SIPOC is an acronym standing for Sewage in Pots on Cars. Eww, gross. No no, it's... S... eh, I forget what S stands for. I - Inputs. P - Processes. O - Outputs. C - Customers. A bunch of bureaucratic repackaging of management methodologies. Well, there's some good too. I want to be fair. But now's not the time. Because I want to get to the bouncing...

I showered. Changed. Flossed. Mouthwashed. Brushed my teeth. And caught the bus. Fifty minutes. Reading Walden. About his furniture. Fascinating book, to be honest.

Got off at Pike and Pine. Walked briskly up Pine to Purr where Joseph was talking to the ECSA (Softball) Commissioner about Joseph's new position as Hall of Fame director. Yes, there's a Hall of Fame for the ECSA.

We got in the car and headed north. To the Rock. Not that Rock. That would have been south anyway. It's a pizza place in Lynnwood. My friend, a player I coach, and a person with whom I work (all the same person) - Tara - was celebrating a younger birthday than I. The reservation was a tad bit screwed up. But it didn't matter. We took over a corner of the bar and proceeded to wreak havoc upon the masses.

I saw my old boss - that boss that left on 8/29 - for the first time since his departure. He asked how it was going. I asked him the same. A bit awkward. He asked about work. I told him. And then he said to ride out the company and then look for a job at someplace like Microsoft.

After wreaking for a while, we were seated in the bowels of the restaurant where some of us - Steve, Erik, and I - spied the Penn State / Ohio State matchup. One piece of pizza. Two and three. Third beer. Fourth piece of pizza forced upon me by Ashley. California style I think. Okay, so she didn't force it. And then the fifth piece of pizza. And fifth beer.

We finished, stuffed. Some departed. The rest of us made our way to a huge warehousish building that, we soon discovered, contained huge bouncy edifices normally meant for kids. But Tara had the wacky idea that we should become kids again and bounce. And boy did we bounce. There was the obstacle course where Twiggy kept proceeding through backwards. There were the twin slides that Maggie's husband's friends kept trying to climb incorrectly. There was the basketball court where our young 16 year old overseers put the cushy huge fists for us to box. And then there was the King of the Hill float where we beat the living hell out of each other. Well, just me, Joseph, Tara, Ashley, and Twiggy. Bruises, scratches, sore muscles.

And that was after the first five minutes. Boy were we out of shape and exhausted. But we got ourselves back in and I destroyed my favorite jeans. Shredded them at the knees, really.

Almost whoopsed my cookies a few times. But held it in like a champ.

By the end, we were laying about like corpses, having had the best time in our respective recent memories.

And that's how I spent Saturday night...

Sunday Scribblings: Bragging

For today's entry, I redirect you to my other blog. A bit of Sunday Scribblings...

The topic?

"I don't like myself. I'm CRAZY ABOUT MYSELF!" -- Mae West

This week: bragging. What's awesome about you? You can pick one awesome thing, or list as many as you can. Don't be shy!

And so, without further ado... Bragging

TD's Official NFL Picks - Week 8

Friday night. Can't say that I've been following football much this week. So, I'm gonna have to wing this one. Maybe look at the standings, read a few articles. Listen to the whisper in the wind.

Since I'm rather ignorant, I'll take a look at the headlines.

SI. Steelers Holmes had pot during stop. Idiot. These kids - can I call them kids when I'm only in my early 30s - are stupid. They most likely have rather nice places where they can do that sort of thing in the privacy of their own home. Instead, he gets caught in a traffic stop. BUT, I'm very pleased that Pittsburgh immediately deactivated him for the coming game. And no, not because they're playing the Jints. Dallas, pay attention to how you should be disciplining your players. Next... NFL fines Plax $45K. You know, I could go off on Plax's morony - made that one up - but what I see is the $45K. With the economy the way it is, I'm thinking more and more that athletes should consider donating some of their cash back to those people losing their houses and trying to care for children. Continuing on... Six to 10 players violate drug policy. First, I'm certain it's more than six to 10 - see first headline. Second, 'Six to 10'? Really? Terrible syntax...

ESPN. Two Saints test for water pills. Will Smith and Deuce McAllister have tested positive. Drugs, drugs, drugs. Again, I can't believe it's just these two. Or those six to 10. Bengals' Palmer done for the season? Bagels, bagels, bagels. Also, I haven't spoken much of my fantasy football teams. They're average at best. The first quarterback chosen for one of those teams? Tom Brady. The first quarterback chosen for the other? Carson Palmer. Are ya kiddin' me? Finally, Colts deny 2nd Manning surgery was staph related. What is it with good QBs and knee infections this week?

Ok, enough with the small talk, let's get to the picks:

Oakland @ Baltimore
2-4 @ 3-3. Both won last week against AFC East opponents. Oakland is settling down after the Lane Kiffin affair. Joe Flacco's a rookie, and you just don't know whether he's gonna be able to hold it together from week to week. But Baltimore can afford to rely on their running game, and they can run against Oakland. Interesting game. Even matchup. TD chooses: Baltimore Ravens

Arizona @ Carolina
Carolina has won all four home games thus far this season. The Cards haven't won five of seven since 1976. Arizona does play in the weakest division in football; BUT they beat Dallas last weekend. (Is that really a point of pride at this point?) Likewise, Carolina demonized the lowly Saints last weekend and are looking for their best record since 2005. It's still an interesting game. Something's telling me... And we know how much that's worth. TD chooses: Arizona Cardinals

Tampa @ Dallas
How low can Dallas go? Maybe it's just me - and remember that I haven't been following that closely - but doesn't Dallas feel like the recent Yankees? As if they're relying on the fact that the names on the field should themselves win games. But no intensity. No burning to win. No biting and scratching and clawing. Just bitching and fighting and stupidity. Meanwhile, Tampa's been winning with grit and determination. Sure, I think Dallas is annoyed, and they're still going to win more games than they lose. But they better find something else in their respective hearts in order to pull together as a contender. For principle's sake, TD chooses: Tampa Bay Buccaneers

Washington @ Detroit
Washington's already had their 'duh' game of the year against St. Louis. They won't do the same against Detroit. And Detroit? Again, right direction, wrong year to expect anything (I'll probably say this every week until they win.) TD chooses: Washington Redskins

Buffalo @ Miami
Ooh. Big game for Buffalo. Hell, big game for Miami. There hasn't been an important game like this since Marino and Kelly were playing. Buffalo's one game ahead of New England and going into a stretch against three straight AFC East opponents. Miami's in a great position not only to play spoiler but to catch up a bit. Do not underestimate this team. Still, I think Buffalo wants it. TD chooses: Buffalo Bills

St. Louis @ New England
Haslett, love what you've done with 'em. I hear Jackson may be out this weekend. Not the best weekend for him to be out. You'll give 'em a game, I know. But I just don't think your team's strong enough. Even if the Patsies are on the other side of the mountain... coming down. TD chooses: New England Patriots

San Diego @ New Orleans (in London)
Reggie Bush. Hurt. Deuce McAllister. Steroids. Colston. Coming back from injury. Brees. Playing well. Shockey. Putz. Saints D. Worthless. Philip Rivers picks them apart in London. UNLESS it's raining like it was last year and it just becomes a mudbowl. In that case, LT and Sproles run over them. Either way, New Orleans yields in this mock home game. TD chooses: San Diego Chargers

Kansas City @ New York Jets
The Jets are coming off a very tough loss to the Raiders. Brett the Jet don't like dat. Meanwhile, in Kansas City, Steve DeBerg has been called in at age 54. And he's still better than both Huard and Croyle. Oh, and note to KC. Time to start thinking about other RBs too. TD chooses: New York Jets

Atlanta @ Philadelphia
Battle of the birds. Atlanta off to a surprising start thanks to a rookie QB, a solid RB, playmaking WRs, and an impressive D. They can win. But whether they do or not depends entirely on which Iggles team decides to show up. Is it the team that massacred the Steelers? Or is it the team that gave the game to da Bears? Okay, okay Iggles fans. You've lost to Chicago, Dallas, and Washington. Tough games. I understand. Not that the Falcons have beat slouches either. But I still think you have it in you to put up a monster game. TD chooses: Philadelphia Eagles

Cleveland @ Jacksonville
It's at Jacksonville. I don't know that one win against a terribly playing Jints team is enough to call it a resurgence. Especially when they lose - granted they played well - to the Redskins the following weekend. I once thought they were ready. I retract. They're not ready. TD chooses: Jacksonville Jaguars

Cincinnati @ Houston
Looks like Palmer might be gone for the season. And Fitzpatrick or Fitzgerald or Fitzsimmons or whomever just ain't gonna get the job done. Personally, I'm looking forward to the KC @ Cincy game coming to a trash heap near you on 12/28. I can't boast too much more about the Oilers... I mean Texans, sheesh... but they have a QB who can throw and some receivers who can catch. TC chooses: Houston Texans

Seattle @ San Francisco
The Seachickens keep sinking. Lower and lower and lower. Can they pull out of this nose dive? Yes. When? Matt Hasselbeck returns. And the receivers are healthy. And Mike Holmgren is in San Fran. And JMJ becomes the University of Washington's newest coach. So, give it a few years. As for San Fran, Nolan's out and Singletary's in. I'm personally interested in seeing how the former Bear great will do as a head coach. Nevertheless, I think San Fran's stronger than Seattle right now. TD chooses: San Francisco 49ers

Indianapolis @ Tennessee
Ooh... good game. Well, hold on. Good game if the Colts play like they did two weeks ago and not last week. Peyton can take it to any team at any time... when he's healthy. He's supposedly healthy. But he just doesn't look like himself. Everyone's saying it. Is there still something wrong? Or is it really just an abyssmal O-line? Meanwhile, Tennessee has something to prove against the reigning AFC South dominators AND on a national stage. We haven't seen Kerry 'Deer in the Headlights' Collins yet. I say it's this week. TD chooses: Indianapolis Colts

Pick of the Week
New York Football Giants @ Pittsburgh Steelers
And so it begins. The Jints couldn't keep playing the basement teams. Everyone knew they'd have to be challenged sooner or later. The time has come... The Giants. The World Champions. The team that won 3 straight playoff road games last year to get to the Super Bowl. And they won it against an 18-0 team. The Steelers. The 2005 World Champions. That team won 3 straight playoff road games that year to get to the Super Bowl. And they won against Seattle. Ben and Eli, both drafted in 2004. Both teams have smothering defenses. Plax visits Pittsburgh for the first time since leaving. Jints have the running game advantage. Pittsburgh has the defensive advantage. Pittsburgh also has home field. Tough, tough game to call. I'm going to be a homer; I think they come to play. TD chooses: New York Football Giants

A Bit of Punctuation

I take a brief moment to say hello after a long day at work. Football picks are coming tomorrow. And I hope everyone's enjoyed the little take on the election from yesterday. Today, I give you a sentence and ask you to punctuate... before I return to the Yankeeography of Paul O'Neill.

man without her woman is nothing

Enjoy! And tomorrow we'll see how bad my NFL picks are this week. :)

A Political Take

Instead of a video this week, I give you an animated short from JibJab. I rather think it a balanced view of the election to take place in 13 days and 3 hours from now.

My thanks go to Twiggy for sending this...

Vote Here

How I Met Jared

I had heard of him in sixth grade at Dag Hammarskjold Middle School. An eccentric student in my grade but not in my team of teachers. I had Englehart and Brown. I forget who he had. He had come from another elementary school - Pond Hill, I believe though I could be wrong - and so, I had had no interactions with him. Just his name and some hearsay.

I met him in seventh grade. We had both been placed with the same 'team' of teachers. The 'upper' level team of Mr. Germanese, Mr. Truehart, and Mrs. Economopolous (who we understandably called Mrs. E). We formed an odd sort of friendship that year. I, the geeky recluse; he, the eccentric outcast. I remember he began calling me an Irish potato bug, or something of the sort. And he had a habit of using polysyllabic words that confused even the teachers.

I specifically remember a time when he came over my father's house with his skis and ski boots to sled down the hill we had in the backyard while my brother and I use an inner tube - a very steep hill. After we had finished, we had dinner. My stepbrother was there, and he decided that he wanted to try on the ski boots. Jared matter-of-factly stated 'Please refrain from wearing my boots.' My stepbrother, taken aback by not only the politeness but also the language, literally guffawed and ran to his room, continuing his hysterical laughter. But that was Jared.

Our frienship continued through middle school and into high school. We both decided to play football. And we were always compared by the coach. Whether King of the Hill or Ball in the Ring, Coach Scott pitted the brainiacs against each other. Oh, and Jared may be shorter than I - well, now he is - but he's very much more compact than I. In other words, I normally got the worst of it. He broke his hand halfway through the season, and didn't return to football. Then again, in college he played rugby. He liked full contact sport.

But it wasn't on the field that we learned to be the best of friends anyway. It was in the school. We helped each other with anything and everything. He credits me with getting through Munley's precalc and Tetreault's calc classes - I still think he's full of it - and he did his share of helping me when it came to science, English, and even history. Because we had the same classes, we always sat together at lunch. Ribbing each other and our other friends. Talking about the latest news, whether political or familial. There wasn't a school day that went by when we didn't see each other.

Some of the times I remember best? Jared most likely wouldn't want me revealing some of them. So I will anway.

Freshman year in Mrs. Johnson's class - she looked rather like a white version of Yoda - Jared thought it would be funny to enclose himself entirely in his altogether ridiculously large bag. He actually zipped himself in. When Mrs. Johnson spied the bag moving in the back of the room, she - rather bewildered - sent him to the office.

I also recall a time when Jared did worse on a test than he expected - instead of an A+ he received a B+. He crumpled the paper and ate it. Yes, ate it.

In French class his freshman year, he decided that he would not take the name Francois. Instead, he would be Framboise - which he kept as his French name all four years. It means raspberry.

During high school, Jared would encourage all of his friends to scale the walls of Rock Hill school for no reason in particular. On Saturday nights. Yes, when others were out experiementing with normal things, we were finding ways to climb atop schools and not be noticed by the police.

Jared loved - and most likely still loves - paintball. I played only once with my friends. I had a slingshot and did rather well. Until the end, when I was outflanked, ran, tripped, and fell. Jared approached me confidently and fired at my stomach. I was pissed at him for a week.

During our senior year, he gave me rides to school. In the car, we listened to one of two things. They Might Be Giants or Rush Limbaugh. 'Nuff said.

Boy could he write. But, his handwriting? Completely illegible. I actually had teachers ask me to interpret his handwriting so they could grade his papers.

It turns out Jared was the valedictorian our senior year. By far. I was somewhere in the mix in that top percentage too, but he took the cake. The most intelligent and talented person I'd had the pleasure of meeting in my tenure at Lyman Hall.

He went to Middlebury, acing everything he did. Then he went to med school at Columbia. He joined the Air Force. And now he's working in Boston, eminently successful and as smart as ever.

We stay in touch. Maybe once a month. Well, normally longer. But that doesn't change the fact that he has been - and is - the best friend I've had the opportunity to know for the longest period of time. Almost twenty years...

A Busy Week 10/13-10/18

One day doesn't make a busy week. A busy week makes a busy week.

I told you about Saturday. Now, I'm going to get in my Delorean and flux myself back to Monday 10/13.

Monday 10/13 marked the first day of Six Sigma Greenbelt training for the first wave of 10 guinea pigs at my company. We traveled to Bellevue Community College - North Campus - from north, south, and west at 7 a.m. We arrived promptly at 7:30 thanks to lighter than usual traffic on Columbus Day. We set up shop and proceeded to listen to the Six Sigma Blackbelt teacher - a former naval officer - drone on about Six Sigma as we collectively attempted to balance the requests coming from our office - on IM and e-mail - and the topics our teacher was covering. We got food from Burger Master, a Northwest fast food place made mostly for drive up. In other words, there were stalls into which cars parked and the servers come out to the cars. A throwback. We returned to the droning and sat. The teacher's a good guy. And an average teacher. I came back to the office thinking that I'd head out to the gym. No luck. We went to Carpet Liquidators instead to see what they could offer as far as carpet goes. We found something we liked but didn't commit (we like to have options for comparison). Then, we went home. And what to our wondering eyes did appear? An Evening to Forget

Tuesday 10/14 marked the second day of Six Sigma training. We arrived a whopping 15 minutes later downtown for the carpool and arrived a whopping 15 minutes later at class. Still rather light traffic. There was more interaction on that day. More questions. More activities. Thank goodness. Most of the group went to Dixie's BBQ. A warehouse and garage where you order southern BBQ. Good stuff too. Waited in line for about 30 minutes (worth the wait) and brought it back to class. Made respective messes of ourselves and proceeded to get droppy-eyed as the teacher spoke. Returned that afternoon knowing that I wasn't going to the gym because we had to get home to meet a guy for a carpet estimate. Lenny, by name. Lenny was a bit sarcastic. And he had no financing. Still we listened, and he gave us a good deal. But no financing. Bye Lenny. Joseph left for volleyball. I worked from home for another two hours and then wrote a tribute to my Grandfather.

Wednesday 10/15, I went back to work. I was immediately pummeled by the 5 active projects for which I am responsible. Most associated with clients, which means hard deadlines. I got myself in order and assessed each project. At 10:30, we had the bStar meeting. A meeting to review the progress of the company and to reward those who deserve a cash award for their hard work. The company? In short, it looks like we'll be opening a second office in Lake Mary, FL to do collections on dismissed accounts as well as mortgages. I won't go into the long version here. But I suggest you re-read Corporation...Continued prior to my next lengthy discussion of where my company's going. We went home - stopping at Safeway along the way - and found a woman from Empire Today in our driveway; Joseph had set up another carpet meet and greet. I let him do the work - which he does so well - and I tried to do work. But I hit a brick wall (mentally) and started looking at youtube. I found Gordon Shumway.

Thursday 10/16, work again. Trying to get a handle on the projects. I felt like I made some headway on each of the projects. But five things at once is too much. I was tired. Joseph started class that evening. I got a ride home from a neighbor by happenstance, and I can't, for the life of me, remember what I did that night. It was my braindead night. Oh, and I did TD's Weekly NFL Picks.

Friday 10/17, was a day of bureaucratic admin. I accomplished almost nothing because I was in meetings all day. Fun. One of those meetings happened to be a two-hour meeting devoted to the project that will be opening a second office in Florida with another line of services foreign to this company (described above). The President of the company (not to be confused with the CEO) was named to head the charge into FLA. And we were all told - there were about 15 of us in the meeting - that we might be assigned to some part of the project. And any one of us might be traveling to FLA. The day ended. I went home. Joseph went out with some friends. I began moving items off the furniture for the Saturday carpeting job. I then picked up Joseph. We bought the most recent Indiana Jones flick and a Papa Murphy's pizza. We settled down at home and enjoyed a quiet night before the storm that would be Saturday 10/18.

That's what I mean by a busy week.

Another Saturday...

This was my Saturday...

Wake up at 7. Sleeping in. But not good waking up. I heard Buddy hacking up a lung. Not good, I think. I rush in. Just bile. Dogs do that - though I've still not found a good reason why. Almost like cats have hairballs, dogs spew this yellow bile liquid. Fun. I let them out of their crates. They eat. They go outside. They come inside. And by this time, Joseph's awake.

Joseph calls Empire Today to ensure that they will be here by 8 a.m. Remember the story about Cleo destroying and Buddy eating the carpet? Well, we made the decision to start anew with a different kind of carpet. Instead of looped carpet - into which pets can insert their claws - we purchased twisted carpet.

When did we want it done? ASAP. That meant before Thanksgiving for me. That meant the next day for Joseph.

We tried a number of vendors. Carpet Liquidators told us their product was one thing (nylon) and it was something else entirely (polyester). Lenny the carpet guy had a good presentation, but was too sarcastic and didn't offer financing. Empire Today had good selection, a good salesperson, and the promise that it would be done Saturday morning starting at 8 and ending at noon. I warned Joseph that, based on the get together we were having Saturday night, we might want to consider getting the carpet laid during the following week. Umm, no.

So there we are Saturday morning. I'm moving the last of the stuff from the rooms - Empire Today moves furniture but nothing on top of the furniture. Joseph calls Empire Today. I hear a rather significant exclamation. 'Anytime between 8 and 6? Oh, no ma'am.' The fun begins. Joseph calls everyone connected with Empire Today and their mothers, fathers, and guardians telling them that they better get someone over in the morning to lay our carpet. Squeaky wheels get oil. Empire Today commits to having a team over by 9:30.

They arrive. A young Indian guy - from India - and a young Slavic-sounding guy. They begin. The Indian guy leaves. We don't see him again until close to finish. That leaves the Slav. But he knows what he's doing and seems to be working rather quickly. The dogs go into the guest bathroom; the cats go into one of the dogs' crates. Joseph and I go into the garage. I decide I'm not going to sit in the garage doing nothing, so we undertake the cleaning and organization of the garage. By noon, we accomplish a good deal. A garbage pile. A give-away pile. And all the rest of the 'keep' piles.

When, of a sudden, a Lexus SUV pulls into the driveway. 'Do you know who that is?' I ask Joseph. 'Nope'. So, off Joseph goes to talk to the person in the SUV. It's the Slav's wife come to talk to him. They don't talk for long before he comes back inside. But she doesn't leave. Instead, she comes inside too. And we just watch as this Slavic sitcom plays out. A kid pokes his head out the car - no more than 5 - and yells 'Hi'. Twilight zone carpet installation.

We go inside to see what's going on. She's just standing there talking to him as he lays carpet. Nothing wrong with that, we suppose. But he's not done yet and it's 1:30. Joseph asks for an estimated time of completion. The Slav says about 2:30. Great, people are coming over at 6.

The Slav's wife - equally Slavic I might add - tells me that her husband and she had read the biblical verse on the icon I have in my office. From John, they tell me. It's in Romanian. I nod knowingly. Jared had sent me the icon when he was doing work in Romania.

The Slavic wife finally leaves. But then returns again a short time later. Meanwhile, we put the finishing touches on the garage and come back inside to get a head start on putting the house back together. We start in the living room. Vacuum. Then move all the furniture into place. Then reconnect the TV, DVD, Cable box, Speakers. The limit of what we could do since the Slav's still working on the hallway and bedrooms. We wait.

The Indian guy returns at 2:30. The Slav then leaves with his wife. The Indian finishes up. By the time he leaves, it's 3. Time for the mad rush to make the house presentable to company.

First, the office. Vacuum. Throw all my books into the bookshelves. Arrange the furniture. Connect the computer. Second, the bedroom. Vacuum. Move the bed, side tables. Do some closet reorg. Then, the dog's room. Vacuum. Move the crates, TV, futon. By this time, almost everything is out of the hardwood kitchen dining room area. We're at 4:15.

I start on the bathroom. Joseph's cleaning the kitchen. 'Don't you have to go to the store,' I ask Joseph. He needs to get 'Pink' drinks - the get together is a fundraiser / rejoicing in the survival of the team for the 60-mile 3-day breast cancer walk. Joseph rushes off to the store. I continue cleaning.

Joseph returns, does his cleaning. I complete my cleaning. It's 5:30. We still need to shower and change. We're ready by 6. And good thing, since everyone begins arriving.

Originally meant to be a fundraiser, but not. Because only one person other than those on the team shows up. We figure because the economy's so bad. So we treat it as a dinner to celebrate the team. We talk, carry on, play a bit of Cranium and watch the Salt N Pepa Show. Meanwhile, I'm about to fall over. Because, although Saturday in its entirety was crazy, it still can't compare to the week.

That's still to come.

A Brief Word

Exhaustion would be a good word to use. Because it was my state last evening. Later, I'll tell you why it was - and continues to be - so. For those of you who might be concerned, well, I don't think there's yet a reason to be.

Ciao,
TD

TD's Official NFL Picks - Week 7

Pitiful. My choices are just pitiful. Miami barely loses. But still loses. Chicago barely loses. But still loses. Denver doesn't even show up. Dallas? You got beat by the Cardinals? Really? And don't even get me started on the Jints. I turned on the game for a brief moment as those who read my blog on Monday know, and I glimpsed the score followed by two plays. They've already lost this one, I said out loud. What a fairweather fan you are, Joseph responded. Fairweather fan? No. But they just looked like they were trying to play football while abiding by the rules of parcheesi. I told Joseph he should have heard my maternal grandfather that night. I grant that I didn't, but I certainly know how he was carrying on.

Okay, so I'm back at it again this week. Who upsets whom? What kind of craziness can inundate me this weekend thus slipping me deeper into utter mediocrity? Enough feeling sorry for myself, here are the picks:

San Diego @ Buffalo
Great start to the picks. San Diego has a good offense and a terrible defense. Buffalo has a good defense and a so-so offense bolstered by the return of Trent Edwards. It promises to be a nice day in Buffalo for Sunday - a high of 57. But San Diego still has to travel clear across the country. There's no doubt San Diego can win... if Buffalo's D decides not to show up. TD chooses: Buffalo Bills

Pittsburgh @ Cincinnati
Ugly. Cincinnati's terrible. Palmer's still out with the elbow issues. The Bagels can't find a running game. And where's Ocho Psycho? Then you have the Steelers who find a way to win somehow. I say there's only one way the Steelers lose. They're looking to their next two NFC East opponents. But that would still mean that the Bagels could put enough offense together to win. TD chooses: Pittsburgh Steelers

Tennessee @ Kansas City
Really Larry? Again? You hit another woman? I'd have dropped you from both my fantasy teams by now if I could. But you're locked, so I'm stuck with you. Dead weight on the bench. Another issue for the brutal-to-watch Chiefs. They have coming into Arrowhead the only remaining undefeated team. And Herm Edwards is trying to deflect the news about Larry and Tony looking for - but not getting - a trade. Can you say worst team in the NFL? And I didn't even say anything about the Titans. Because I think they just have to show up. TD chooses: Tennessee Titans

Dallas @ St. Louis
Romo or Johnson, Dallas does not let another inferior team beat them. Especially not with the recent addition of Roy Williams. If they do, I'm going to love to see the fireworks from that fallout. But I just don't see it happening. Meanwhile, those who play the Rams in the next few weeks best no take them for granted. Haslett's lead before. And well, at that. But this week's this week. TD chooses: Dallas Cowboys

Baltimore @ Miami
Intriguing. Miami can take 'em. Especially if they get on Flacco, which they can. Then again, Baltimore could very well make Chad's day quite the living hell with their own number one D. I'm thinking Miami brings out more of the Wildcat for this game. It doesn't completely catch the Ravens by surprise, but it does spring either or both brown and williams for some big plays. TD chooses: Miami Dolphins (in a close game)

San Francisco @ New York Giants
Eli had his bad game. Fine, get it out of the way. I'd have rather it not been on a Monday night for all to see. But maybe that was a good thing to humble them a bit. San Fran will come to play, but I think O'Sullivan will get pummeled by an angry Jints D. The G-Men return to form in this one. TD chooses: New York Football Giants

New Orleans @ Carolina
Danger, Carolina, danger. Do not underestimate one of the most prolific offenses in the game. Especially with the news that Colston and Shockey may return this weekend. I think Delhomme has to be ready to keep up with the onslaught that is the Saints offense (and the Saints D will allow it given how bad they are). I honestly see one of two possibilities here. New Orleans blows 'em out like Tampa did a week ago. Or, the Panthers' D shows up and keeps the game close. Based on that, probability dictates that TD chooses: New Orleans Saints

Detroit @ Houston
Ick. I think I can say, at this moment, that the game about which no one would actually care - were it to happen this year - would be Detroit V. KC. This one's a close second. Only because Houston still doesn't know how to win the game that will make them respectable. Honestly, the Jacksonville and Indianapolis games were killers. Just demoralizing. Still, they have a potent offense. And Detroit just gave away one of their biggest weapons. (Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I think Detroit actually needs to try to rebuild post-Millen, and that trade was a good first move.) TD chooses: Houston Texans

New York Jets @ Oakland Raiders
The Black Hole's a tough place to play. And the fact that the Raiders are underdogs in their own place has to have them seething a bit. That's if they're even paying attention. What I mean is that I don't think their coach has them ready. They're still too distracted by what happened. And there's still Al Davis. I see one way the Raiders win. Favre throws 3 INTs. It can happen. But not on Sunday. TD chooses: New York Jets

Indianapolis @ Green Bay
Hmm... Passing offense versus passing offense. Indy at 7th in passing. Green Bay at 10th. Combine that with worse than average defense and you get a good old fashioned shoot out. Indy has more weapons - still. But Green Bay has youth and spunk. Lambeau Field used to mean an automatic win for the Packers; now it's only an advantage that evens them. I say what wins this game is experience. TD chooses: Indianapolis Colts

Cleveland @ Washington
Cleveland: fluke or fact? Perhaps we saw the waking of the football team from last year. Then again, we might just have seen a flailing Giants teams attempting to do their best impression of the Three Stooges at the Dawg Pound. Something tells me that Cleveland's not a fluke, but they're not yet ready for consistent prime time. Combine that with the fact that Washington's smarting from a rather humiliating loss of their own to a bad Rams team. I think Cleveland gets run over. TD chooses: Washington Redskins

Seattle @ Tampa
Maybe a year ago this looked like a good game. But now? It just looks like an accident waiting to happen. Whether it's Seneca or Charlie, Tampa's going to be running them all day. They know how to play D. Perhaps, the Seachickens may want to take some notes. Especially since Garcia ain't no slouch. Did you see what he did to Carolina? I just don't even see this being competitive. TD chooses: Tampa Bay Buccaneers

Denver @ New England
New England's D looks old. Denver's O looks young. New England's O doesn't have Tom Brady; let's all agree that Cassel may be serviceable, but adds nothing special to the team dynamic. Yes, it's in New England. Yes, Denver will lose if they take Belichick and New England for granted. But they won't. TD chooses: Denver Broncos

Pick of the Week
Minnesota @ Chicago
Chicago is arguably the most balanced team out there. Better than average in everything they do. Minnesota's not far behind. Better than Chicago in rushing and D, but not in passing and overall offense. To make it even better, it's a battle of the NFC Norse divison outside at Soldier Field (in 63 degree weather). Everything tells me that I should not choose Minnesota. Their sloppy win against Detroit. Peterson's inability to hold onto the ball. The fans calling for Childress' head. But I stand up to them all. And I say Minnesota takes the NFC Norse lead. TD chooses: Minnesota Vikings

Video of the Week: No Problem!

Way back when I loved a certain TV show that starred an alien from Melmac who enjoyed eating cats and playing bouillabaiseball. Yes, I admit - hesitantly - that I went out one Halloween as Alf Springsteen. Don't ask.

While you're attempting to rid your mind of that picture or while you laugh hysterically, go ahead and remember this...

Gung Ho!: The Story of Carlson's Makin Island Raiders

Tonight I pay homage to a movie. I can't say it's my favorite movie; I've never been one for the war film genre. And, to be honest, I don't watch too many black and whites either. But this movie holds a special place in my heart because it reminds me of my paternal grandfather on this, his 79th birthday.

I only wish he were around to celebrate it.

I can't say that I have many memories of the man, as he was a quiet sort who rarely spoke more than a few sentences at a time. I know he loved baseball as a lifelong Detroit Tigers fan (his favorite player was Hank Greenberg). I know he loved God above all else, never missing a Sunday to pay Him homage. I know he worked his butt off his entire life as a pipe coverer, a town of North Haven public works employee, and a Cablewave janitor. I know that he should have died much sooner than he did because he inhaled obscene amounts of asbestos during his years as a pipe coverer. I know that he didn't die because he had a rare condition - the name of which I do not know - that caused him to sweat out the asbestos leaving not a trace of it in his body. I know that he loved gadgets of all kinds. Apple peelers and weed wackers and whatsits and doodads. I know that he loved bread and butter. And strawberry milkshakes. And hot dogs. And sauerkraut. And food of any kind. I also know it was best that you not put your hand anywhere near his plate while he was eating lest you lose it. I know that he set up a village beneath the Christmas Tree every year. I know that he was not a good driver. I know that he loved St. Peter's.

And I know that he was a United States Marine.

As an outsider to that clan, I could never understand how my grandfather knew another person was also a Marine. But he knew. He'd be pumping gas. Semper Fi, he'd say to someone. Semper Fi, the someone would return. An amazing phenomenon...

Which leads me to the title of this post. In my grandparents' house, if it was a Friday night and we didn't have to wake up early the following morning, we had multiple movies from which to choose. For any movie we chose, my grandfather would be asleep within the first ten minutes... except one. Gung Ho!

Every once in a while, he'd suggest it. Most of the time, my grandmother, my brother, and I would overrule him and move on to something else. But there were those times when my brother and I would side with him. At those times, my grandmother would go upstairs to bed and we would remain with 'Grandpa' watching the movie. And watch, we did. He never spoke. But it was also clear that he didn't sleep. Instead, he watched intently, as if he was searching for a lost friend inside the television. At the end of the movie, the tears would come. I'd steal glances at this normally reserved man and watch each single tear fall down his cheek.

For him, his life was God! Family! Country! Corps!

I miss ya, yardbird...

An Evening to Forget

It's 10:30 p.m. (Pacific) Do you know where your children are? How about pets? Do you want mine?

We get home after work last Thursday evening, and what do we find? The dogs have gotten bored and started tearing up the carpet. We see the torn carpet, but there are no pieces of carpet. Why is that?

Let's hearken back to a simpler time. We had just adopted Buddy, and we were told that bedding was a good idea for dogs. So, we get two wool blankets. We put them in the dogs' crates and think nothing more of it. Until we return home from work the following day. Cleo's blanket is fine. But Buddy's? His seems to be torn. He must be tearing at it out of boredom, we think. Well, we were close. He was, in fact, tearing at it. To EAT it. Our genius of a dog decided that he was going to try to eat a wool blanket. We brought him to the doctor. The doctor told us that his stomach was certainly bloated. He also told us that dogs can't digest wool. No, REALLY!!? His advice? Just wait till Buddy throws it up. Meanwhile, don't feed him because nothing will get through.

We paid for that advice?

Fast foward to Thursday. Where were the carpet pieces? In Buddy's belly. We're pretty certain that Cleo destroys the carpet, and Buddy, thinking they're treats, swoops in and swallows them whole. So, we had to wait.

Now, things were getting through - so we noticed - when Buddy was using the outdoor necessary. So, we wondered if it possible that he might actually digest little pieces of carpet.

Yeah, no...

We arrived home today to find him and his crate... well, let's just say, a mess. I bring him outside and spray him down while Joseph tries to air out the house. I let him back in the house, and spray his crate down - which I still have to put back together. Joseph continues with what he was doing. I get back inside. Mayhem. Cleo hasn't eaten and Buddy's drinking water - probably dehydrated from his condition. We let them out so we can square things away. They run around. They run back inside. And Buddy proceeds to grace us with the water he just drank out from the same orifice into which it was originally entered.

Into the garage he went since it had begun to pour outside. More cleaning. Towels into the washer. Joseph cooking. Checked on Buddy. Joseph needed to write something up on his laptop. But Microsoft Word has decided that it will close every time he starts to type. Randomly. And every time. Nice. He comes into the back room to type on the PC.

I turned on the TV. Monday Night Football. The Jints having their way with the Brownies? Nope. Getting killed. I watched them for five minutes and can't believe how buffoonish they looked. Eli utterly lost. Coughlin screaming his reddened face off.

I'm tired, suffice it to say. And I have nothing else to give. I think I'll get out of my work clothes now... just after I rebuild Buddy's crate.

Sunday Scribblings: In Which Era Would I Live?

Over at Sunday Scribblings, I came across a great question, especially for me who loves history. In which era/time/civilization would I live? When? Why? Where?

When I saw this topic, I said to myself, self, you've studied a lot of history given you're a history teacher by trade, so of all those eras you've taught, in which era would you choose to live? Being a history teacher, I've heard the question before. From students, other teachers, parents, friends, family, those questionnaires everyone sends via e-mail asking what your favorite color is and the like.

I have the quick answer, the answer about which I can speak at length. The Enlightenment. France. Paris, to be exact. I'd have to be at university or involved in the intellectual life to some degree. And I'd have to be a white male. What an exciting time, I'd say. Yes, I know that I wouldn't have the technology. Yes, I know the cities stunk. Yes, I know that it most likely would have been a difficult life. But, the uncovering of points of view, the leap forward towards revolution would have been enthralling.

Those are the reasons I could give for choosing the Enlightenment. Those and so many more. But I choose that period also because I know the most about it. It is, in some ways, very familiar to me. A time with which I can relate, being a European mutt by ancestry.

When I saw the question posed on Sunday Scribblings, I got to thinking about it more. Would it really be the Enlightenment? Or would it be some other time? I needed to try to think outside the box.

I could say that I was born in exactly the right time and place. That would be true. I enjoy my life, and if given the chance, I wouldn't live at any other time. But, for me that steals the fun out of the response. I kept thinking.

The 20th century? Nah. Not really into world or cold wars. Outside the box... I could have lived in another country that wasn't too much affected. Like which, I responded to myself, Mongolia?

Back in time. 19th century? Certainly not the U.S. China, maybe, before the significant interactions with the West. Or even Japan. To be a part of Japanese culture before 1868 would have been truly interesting. But too strict. Too totalitarian.

Ha! you may say to me. Try to find a situation in which a society was NOT too totalitarian in history. Some African tribes. Some Native American tribes. The Vikings, though too decentralized for me. There were plenty.

So, when and where?

After some research, I settled on the Navajo in the southwestern U.S. BEFORE the arrival of the Europeans. In reading about their nomadic culture and their love of the land and everything the land gave them, I would have to say that - although I would have no conveniences - I would be a part of a tight-knit matriarchal community that understood the truths of history and the future.

Why the Navajo? Too much further north, and I would have been freezing. Too much further east and I'd have been annoyed by the humidity. Dry warmth is my idea of a good climate. Why not the Mayan civilization or some other in Mexico or South America? The government was too centralized. Some of the dictators in Tenochtitlan and the other Native American centers were just as bad as any Asian, African, or European dictator.

Why not the Hopi, then? Okay, fine, I'd consider being Hopi too.

Just as long as - I reemphasize - I would have been long dead before the Europeans came.

Getting to Know Me: TD?

You have seen that I entitle my weekly NFL picks 'TD's Official NFL Picks - Week _'. For those of you who know me - I'm guessing everyone who's reading this blog - you know that my initials are DK. So, where do I get that TD? I must journey back.

It was 13 years ago - August 1995 to be exact - that I left my family and friends in Connecticut to attend the University of Delaware. I moved into Russell B. The Russell dorms are located on East Campus adjacent to an open field area named Harrington Beach. No, it's not a beach. When it was wet, it was more like a mudpit. And when dry, like a desert. It was - and still is - surrounded by groups of dorms.

So, back to Russell B. I lived on the second floor. A co-ed dorm. Our RA, Aimee (pronounced ah-may) was a pushover who was rarely in her room. In other words we had free reign.

It was a good dorm, the best living experience I had at Delaware, to be honest. I couldn't really be an introvert in that dorm. First of all, I lived in a double with two other people. And that would have been all well and good, but the two other people - both named Chris - could not have been more different than I.

The one Chris - the pretty boy - had a girlfriend in southern jersey but found a way to bring a different girl home every night. Almost literally. He once came home with a girl I had known in high school. The only other girl from my town at Delaware. He loved Morrissey and The Cure. Blech! And he was a surfer who tried - and failed - to sound like he was from 'Cali'. Ugh! Suffice it to say, we tolerated each other.

The other Chris - the city boy - was from Staten Island. Though short, he did not have a Napoleon complex. Instead, he was laid back and generally agreeable. I could imagine him being a salesman from whom a person would consider buying.

Then there was me. Introvert. Studier. Liked quiet. I learned how to get out of the habit rather quickly.

So, I didn't spend much time in my own room. Too crowded. Too loud. I also did not want to go out and about. I wasn't much into the party scene. And I wasn't much interested in joining a frat. That left either sitting in the hallway by myself or actually engaging others. I did the latter.

I came to meet a while slew of characters in my freshman dorm. There was Steve. Big guy. Loved sports. All sports. He used to stay up until all hours of the night watching sports like cricket and bocce on ESPN. Loved Syracuse football, though he lived his entire life in central Jersey. A Dallas Cowboys fan too. Yeesh. Still, a good guy. Would give you the shirt of his back even if it was three sizes too big for anyone else in the dorm. He's the one who gave me the nickname, TD.

Why?

There were four Daves in Russell B, Floor 2. So, yelling Dave or David when you wanted one of us was rather... inefficient. That meant we needed nicknames. The first idea was to give us nicknames based on the state from which we came. Interestingly, we all came from different states: Delaware, Connecticut, Vermont, and Ohio. But, if you know anything about life in college, people abbreviate - or have pet names for - everything. Delaware Dave just doesn't have a ring. Nor Ohio Dave. Nor Connecticut Dave. So, they gave us names based on other things.

Ohio Dave. The absolute best ultimate (frisbee) player I have ever seen. Even by other ultimate players, he was said to have been one of the most accurate throwers. He became Frisbee Dave. By the end of the year, he was just Frisbee.

Delaware Dave. Smart guy. Also VERY muscular. Too muscular, you might say. He became Muscle Dave. As the year wore on, he would take to challenging everyone - guys and girls alike - to a wrestling match. Thus, by the end of the year, we didn't actually call him much because he freaked everyone out.

Vermont Dave. I have nothing against Vermont. Nice state. Has the Green Mountains. Has Ben & Jerry's. But we had two people from Vermont in Russell B. And both were just weird. I remember many an occasion when I'd be in the midst of a conversation with Dave and without warning or reason, he'd leave. I asked others if they had ever witnessed this behavior. All of them had. He became the only one who kept his state as the nickname. It got shortened. VD. Yeah, I know.

Then there was me. It's really not that exciting. You might have figured it out already, in fact. It came from the first time Steve saw me stand up. I surprised him with my height since I had been slouching in my chair. You're a tall Dave, he said. That stuck for a little while - Tall Dave. But it needed shortening. That's when I became TD.

TD's Official NFL Picks - Week 6

We've got some wild football this year. Miami has now beaten both teams from last year's AFC Championship game. Can anyone say Wildcat? The NFC East is a combined 14-5. The NFC West is a combined 6-12. Neither Indy nor the Pats are in first place. And the only team with a winning record in the AFC West? Denver. Tennessee is the only 5-0 team. The QB news is about Kerry and Kurt, not Peyton and Tom. Everyone's favorite AFC fad, the Cleveland Browns? 1-3. Everyone's favorite NFC fad, the Minnesota Vikings? 2-3. Not awe inspiring. But there's lots more football to play.

In some divisions, an 0-4 start means little. The Rams could still conceivably win the NFC West. In other divisions, a 4-1 start is mediocre, for now. Lotsa football to play. And so, without further ado, let's get to the picks :

Chicago @ Atlanta
Atlanta: Won against some questionable teams. Detroit. KC. Even Green Bay can be considered questionable at this point. They lost to Tampa and Carolina, the two teams ahead of them in the division. Chicago: Hard fought wins against Indy and Philly. Hard fought losses against Carolina and Tampa, the two teams to which Atlanta lost. I like the way Atlanta's coming around, but I just think Chicago has a D that will stop Turner and attack Ryan. TD chooses: Chicago Bears

Baltimore @ Indianapolis
Indy just doesn't look the same. With Peyton mostly unprotected these past few weeks, he looks a bit like a duck out of water. But they're a dangerous team still. At any time, they can turn it not just on but on hyperdrive. See win against Houston. Baltimore, though, has a bit of the defensive swagger of the 2000 team. The wild card? The Blue Hen alumnus. What will Joe Flacco do? You know what? I think Baltimore keeps it on the ground with McClain and McGahee. TD chooses: Baltimore Ravens

Detroit @ Minnesota
The perennial losers versus the NFC fad of 2008. You know, I'd like to think that this would be the week that Detroit could win, but John Kitna has back spasms. The backup? Dan Orlovsky. At times, backups can prove difficult to defend because there's little tape of that guy playing. So, that could prove problematic for the Vikes. But, you know, I still have some faith in the Viking D; they should give Dan the Man a lot of trouble. For that reason, TD chooses: Minnesota Vikings

Oakland @ New Orleans
Disappointment versus disappointment, at least thus far. What can Oakland do now that Kiffin is gone? Nothing. Not as long as Al Davis is there and wants to lead the team but not coach. I don't condone everything that Kiffin did, by a long shot. At the same time, Al Davis just comes across as a crazy old senile has-been. And his team hasn't shown anything to dispute that in the past 6 years. On the other side of the field are Brees and Bush trying to do it all. The Saints have no running game (29th in the league) and their defense allows too many yards (351 ypg). Still, they can score. They haven't had fewer than 24 points in any game this season. TD chooses: New Orleans Saints

Cincinnati @ New York Jets
Another QB hurt - Carson Palmer - leaving room for Ryan Fitzpatrick to start for the Bagels. I don't see good things in his future this weekend. Still, the Bagels have the potential - note, potential - to have a good running game. They just don't yet. Watch out for Cedric, if he doesn't get arrested first. Then there's the J-E-T-S. An exciting game with that 'lovable' gunslinger at the helm. He put up 56 points two weeks ago. But I don't think he'll do it again with the Bagels being 6th in the league in pass defense. Brett could, however, open it up for Thomas Jones and Leon Washington. You can tell which way I'm leaning. TD chooses: New York Jets

St. Louis @ Washington
Honestly, this is a scary game for Redskin fans. They just went out and beat Dallas at Dallas and Philly at Philly. Now, they're coming home against a St. Louis team that has a new coach and is eager to win. Trap game. I know I said I was going to be conservative. And I know this is in DC. I know everything says that the Redskins should win this game. Except that little voice in the back of my head. TD chooses: St. Louis Rams

Miami @ Houston
Schaub is back from a viral infection. He's better than Rosenfels, though not by much. And their D is right about average. You'd think they'd have won a game by now... cough, cough... Indy... cough, cough. Then there's Miami. If teams aren't studying that Wildcat formation, they should be. And Sparano says that there's more to come... more looks from that formation, that is. I'm intrigued by Miami. And even though the coaching staff came from Dallas, I find myself rooting for them. TD chooses: Miami Dolphins

Jacksonville @ Denver
Almost my pick of the week. Let's be honest. Jacksonville has had a really tough first 5 games. They lost to Tennessee, Buffalo, and Pittsburgh. All by a touchdown or less. Yes, I know, good teams pull those games out. But they did pull an impressive one out against Indy. And another against Houston. Then there's Denver. Very strong at home. If I'm honest, they haven't had as tough a schedule. Who to choose. I want to choose Jacksonville. I think they have a real shot of winning. But I'm not confident enough in them to choose them over Denver at home. TD chooses: Denver Broncos

Dallas @ Arizona
'Pacman' will not be disciplined for his scuffle. Egregious. But the Cowboys will pay. They'll pay in the same way they have the past 2 years. No, it's not some karmic curse I'm attempting to bestow. It's just that there's no discipline. None. Just look at the Jints. Did anyone think they could win the big game without Tiki and Shockey? A few years ago, no. Coughlin was on the hot seat; the word was he was too strict. I don't see that happening this year with Plax. Who cares if the guy is a good receiver? Eli found quite a few others this past weekend. Okay, so this isn't about the Jints. But it is about the Cowboys. Sure, they'll win more than they'll lose. They'll even get to the playoffs. But something happens to them and they self-destruct. Because they don't have anyone to lay down the law. This weekend? Oh yes, the Cardinals will give them a run for their money, but it won't be enough. TD chooses: Dallas Cowboys

Philadelphia @ San Francisco
I read that McNabb gave his team a talkin' to after a few losses. Those losses, remember, came against Dallas, Washington, and Chicago. And they won against Pittsburgh. San Francisco's wins? Seattle and Detroit. Umm, yeah. I know Martz will have O'Sullivan throwing, but Philly's not gonna take em lightly. TD chooses: Philadelphia Eagles

Green Bay @ Seattle
Is anyone else surprised that Green Bay is 2-3 with wins only against the Vikes and the Lions? I know I am. I didn't think Brett the Jet was such a difference maker. I suppose I still don't believe it. Green Bay's a better team than they're letting on. Or something. Well, their spirits should be higher than they have been given that their opponent is the Seachickens. Yes, the Seachickens have earned that name once again with terrible play. I've heard from their fans that I should give them a break. That their receiving corps is decimated. I know, I know. But I've asked them to explain one thing to me. If I lay off the impotent offense, then where the hell's the defense? 44-6? Not excusable. TD chooses: Green Bay Packers

New England @ San Diego
Interesting game of the week. Last year's AFC championship game. So different now. New England won a good old fashioned defensive game last week, doing what they did to great teams back in 2002. They're always dangerous. Always ready to take advantage of any weakness. Then you have the Bolts who are rather enigmatic. They should be better than they are. But their wins and losses thus far prove they're better than worse teams and worse than better teams. No surprises, in other words. I'm going with slow and steady in this one. TD chooses: New England Patriots

New York Giants @ Cleveland
Cleveland is thrust into the spotlight once again this season. It's after a bye, so they should be rested. After that, I don't know what to say. They're dead last in the league in total offense and passing. 25th in rushing. Better on D. That just means they won't allow 44 points. But most weeks 11 is enough to beat them. The Giants? If they look past this game, they could get a surprise, but I think they just have too many weapons to allow Cleveland to threaten. TD chooses: New York Football Giants

Pick of the Week:
Carolina @ Tampa
For first place in the NFC South, these teams will battle this weekend. Watch out for Jeff Garcia. He has magic in him yet. He's a tough guy who can lead impressive drives. I still won't forgive him for what he did against the Jints in the playoffs when he was with San Fran. But Carolina gets back some of their starting o-linemen this week. And they've figured out how to win the close games. Tampa better watch for Dante Rosario in the middle. A good, good game, methinks. TD chooses: Carolina Panthers

Inspiring Art: The Return of the Prodigal Son

I come to the computer utterly exhausted this evening. Work has increased in intensity as we bring on new clients. And so, this will be brief.

I would like to share with you one of two pictures I have hanging in my office. It is The Return of the Prodigal Son by Bartolome Esteban Murillo. I purchased this replica of the painting in Boston while I was in the seminary. I chose this painting because I recalled - and still recall - the first time I internalized the story.

My stepbrother and I were at odds. Not any kind of fisticuffs, mind you, but we didn't see eye to eye on anything. And yet, my father and stepmother treated him as well as they did me and my brother. I never understood.

After seeing my frustration, the old man sat me down with his Bible in hand and read to me the passage. He described himself as the father, me as the brother who stayed, and my stepbrother as the one who left and subsequently returned. 'We love you both,' he said. 'But there's a special place in our hearts for you who have been loyal all these years.'

As obnoxious and arrogant as I was, I took not only comfort but pleasure in the fact that I was the 'better' son. That I was the loyal one who loved his family more. That I was the favorite. Even through my time in the seminary, I looked at the world through those glasses.

Boy, did I miss the point. The fact is that each son in that story had something to learn. It was the more obvious with the son who left and then returned, humbled at the feet of his father. As for the son who remained, his bitter heart had squelched the possibility of love and forgiveness until his father confronted him.

I learned that about the story. But only after I became the son who ran away. Who went West to 'find myself' and 'figure things out'. In truth, I left to escape. To do what I wanted. To have freedom.

And then one day while in Seattle, I pulled the picture from the dusty closet and realized that I was the younger son. The son who ran. Though it took me time to atone, I did approach my old man. Perhaps not to return for good, but the story never said that the younger son returned for good either. But to return and ask forgiveness.

My father, good to his word, served the fatted calf - well I had veal parm at Pagliacci's - and accepted me lovingly into his arms.

When I returned to Seattle, I searched the painting again and found new meaning. The story is truly remarkable in its depth. I suggest you read it, even if you're not a Christian. And meditate on it. You will learn more about yourself than you previously knew. Luke 15:11-32

Video of the Week: I love you

I've decided to add a bit of spice to the blog, i.e. a video of the week. I cannot say what I'll post from week to week. Maybe a clip from a favorite show. Maybe a stupid pet trick. Maybe something poignant. Maybe something completely off the wall.

For this first week, I have chosen to tell all of my family and friends how I feel about you. Watch and let your heart be warmed:

Corporation... Continued

Every so often, I begin getting an increase of calls, letters, e-mails, smoke signals, carrier pigeons, and owls inundating me with questions about work. How's it going? Is your job safe? Have they laid people off? Are they outsourcing? And on and on. With what little I know, I will whet your appetite.

Anyone been hearing about the economy lately? Small thing. Closest to the Depression we've been since the... well... the Depression. A $700 billion bailout for Wall Street. Oh, and Europe and Asia are feeling the heat. Iceland is about to declare bankruptcy, for God's sake. What chapter would that be anyway? It's bad; we all know it. But what, exactly, does that mean for a company that collects on bankrupt debt? And what does that mean for a fund like Lone Star that owns a company that collects on bankrupt debt, not to mention owning God knows how many other types of companies? Alright, already, so many questions...

At first glance, what this means for my company is more bankruptcy. More bankruptcy means more ability to collect on bankruptcy. More ability to collect means more money. Whoa! Not so fast. Just because we might have more bankrupt accounts coming in the door doesn't mean the debtors responsible for those accounts will have any money to pay us. They're broke, remember. So, chapter 7 filings will go up. Even with the new bankruptcy legislation passed three years ago.

In addition, it's tougher for my company to get the loans we need to pay for the accounts. Yes, we get loans to purchase the accounts and then pay the loans off over time while also recognizing at least some profit. So, higher interest rates mean more difficulty finding loans that will allow the company to go after accounts. As you can see, there's good and bad.

But wait, there's a way around the purchasing of accounts. Service them! Instead of acquiring a loan to purchase accounts, we just bring the accounts in-house and keep a fee for dealing with the bankrupt accounts. It allows the owning company to continue to collect, recouping the value while at the same time allowing us to earn money without having to secure a loan. So, why don't we do more of that? There's a whole lot more competition for servicing. And we can't charge a fee that falls off the map just because it's lower than the competitors. At some point, we have to have confidence in our own abilities and tell customers that they get what they pay for. It's worked a few times.

Okay, deep breath, moving onward.

That was my company. Now, how 'bout the company that owns my company, Lone Star. They're accustomed to turning businesses like Ty Pennington does houses. Buy them, make them better or tear them apart, and sell them (or their pieces) within three years of purchase. It's worked well thus far. What has changed? It's the economy, stupid. No, not that you're stupid. It's just a saying. You know. First used in as a slogan in Bill Clinton's '92 campaign. Remember? Ah, never mind. So, anyway, Lone Star can't sell these companies as quickly because there's no one to buy them. What happens next? Some confusion. Some reorganization. Some action.

Lone Star decides they're going to jump in and purchase some bad debt. In Germany. In South Korea. In the good old US of A. Good old Merrill Lynch US of A accounts, to be exact. Among others. To do what with them? Collect, of course. Not through my company. At least not yet.

But there has to be more than that venture. Lone Star has to think differently about their acquisitions. Instead of pumping up or slashing and burning the companies, they have to sustain them. Foreign word, sustain. So, how do you sustain?

Well, there's the one choice. You don't. You make like nothing's happened and you try your old tactics. Bad idea. Another choice, choose to run the company the way a company should be run, i.e. with some kind of operational excellence. What might that be, you ask? Six Sigma. Remember Six Sigma? Ed showed me the books in his bookcase. Used at Motorola and GE, manufacturing companies. Worked well too. Got them close to Six Sigma in many of their lines.

Well, since I've read a bit more about Six Sigma, let me very briefly explain. If you order a warm, fresh hamburger with mustard, ketchup, lettuce, tomato, and no pickle 1,000,000 times from McDonalds, they can get it wrong thrice. That's three times they can forget the pickles. That's it. They have to be spot on the rest of the time. That's the result in a nutshell. How do they get there? Ah, well that's the rub. Increase effectiveness and efficiency using the tools of Six Sigma. BUT - and it's a big but, and I cannot lie - the support and vision MUST. Let me start that again... The support and vision MUST come from the company owners/leaders/decision makers. If it does not, then Six Sigma turns into another quality initiative that will be undermined somewhere in its midst.

Yes, yes. So what about the people at my company? What about me? Interesting question. Six Sigma does not say NOT to outsource. Nor does it say NOT to downsize. Not explicitly, anyway. Instead, it says that a company must do what is efficient and effective. Is it efficient to send the company's IT team somewhere else? If we're talking India, China, Djibouti, Liechtenstein, or Moldova, probably not. If we're talking San Fran, Dallas, or even somewhere else in Seattle, maybe. But that place would have to make up for our knowledge base and internal efficiencies. Could it? Maybe.

And what's the company's vision anyway? Purchasing requires loaned money. Servicing requires competitive rates. Something else entirely means new knowledge acquisition by the workers. Which is it? I don't know. I know that our leaders went to speak to Lone Star last week, but there is still no word about what's next. Still no vision. We are - not stuck - just waiting. And what do we do in the meantime? Well, my team will be taking Six Sigma certification classes at Bellevue Community College. And I'm in the process of completing my Project Management Certification Application. Training. For my company? Or for the future? Dunno... I jus' dunno.

I yield to the blessed St. Ignatius 'If you don't know where you're going, stay where you are.'

More to come...

A Look Back: Freshman Football

August 1991. I sat in the old man's Astro van, silent as a corpse. As I recall, he retrieved me from the apartment eager to see me off to this new thing we decided I would try. Football. Some game I had seen from afar. Watching the Giants. Hating Buddy Ryan and the Eagles. Not having much of a clue otherwise. On that short trip from the apartment to the back doors of Lyman Hall, I knew that I wasn't ready for whatever it was I had agreed to do.

I arrived, said goodbye to the old man, and opened the heavy back door of the high school. There, standing on either side of the short hallway were about 30 of my classmates. All of them stared at me in disbelief. In their eyes, the phrase 'what's he doing here?' I knew the look because, if I had been a fly on the wall, I'd have asked myself the same question.

Long story short, I was the most introverted of introverts in middle school. I had few friends and little interest in friendship with anyone beyond those friends. My life was schoolwork. With an occasional little league baseball game in the spring. So, for me to have walked into the gym to play football was like Edward Scissorhands going out to become a pitcher.

One of the freshman coaches taught me hot to adorn myself with the football gear. Hip pads. Knee pads. Shoulder pads. Helmet. Mouthpiece. It takes a little while the first time.

And we proceeded with what we called double sessions and what others call two-a-days. I had no idea what I was in for. I got my assed kicked. And I was terrible. I couldn't catch a football worth a damn, so I certainly wasn't meant to be a receiver. I had no speed; running back and quarterback were out. Linebacker too. That left the line. I was 5'8", 150. Only 13 when I entered high school. And I was a lineman. That's why I got my ass kicked.

As if double sessions weren't enough, there was also the mandatory hazing for freshmen. Singing 'I'm a Little Teapot' in front of the others. (We continued singing the song every so often in the school cafeteria.) Oh, those seniors were an interesting group. Some would say mean. Others would say great football players. I'd say both. We had different types of relay races every day at lunch. The one I remember most, for whatever reason, was grape racing. The freshmen competed in racing grapes across the ground... with our tongues. Love that gritty sidewalk taste to this day.

Double sessions did actually end. And school began.

Every day except Sundays, from August to November 1991, I dragged myself down the high school's halls after classes and into the lockerroom. Every God forsaken day. The others wouldn't look at me. They didn't want to see the pain in my face. And I didn't want to see the pain in theirs. We'd see each other soon enough. Through those facemasks. In the dirt and muck and mud. In the creek at the bottom of the sandy precipice. We just walked together, dead men to the gallows.

Freshman football at Lyman Hall was not a sport. It wasn't about learning a game. It wasn't even about spending time with friends. Freshman football was nothing but a quarter-long nightmare inflicted by the Varsity Head Coach's son. We were at war, he'd tell us. We had to defeat the enemy. There was no room for the weak. Just the strong. Intelligence? Agility? There was no place for such attributes. Just unmitigated bloodlust.

There was a drill he called 'Ball in the Ring'. He, or one of the coaches, yelled the name of one unsuspecting victim. And then he threw the ball to another. The goal? The two victims run straight at each other and see if the impact knocks one or both out. If one of the two did not run directly at the other, he did it again. And again. And again. Until he was dizzy from the hits or until he got it right.

There was another drill. A classic. King of the Hill. Behind our playfield was a creek. Leading down to that creek was a sharp decline covered with beach sand. Everyone, in their full pads, skidded and slid down the hill until the entire team stood in the polluted creek. Again, the coach would call two unsuspecting victims' names. The two would battle up through the sand, throwing each other, punching, jabbing, kicking. Each one doing anything in his power to make the other succumb. The one who made it to the top claimed victory. The one who didn't remained at the bottom waiting for his next shot.

When we weren't doing 'Ball in the Ring' or 'King of the Hill' we hit. Sideline hitting. Open field hitting. Straight on hitting. Hitting from a sprint. Hitting on the line. Through the rain. The sun. The brisk chill of autumn. From 2 p.m. when school ended until 6 p.m. when the coaches stopped asking if we wanted more. We hit. And as the year progressed, we lost one. Then another. Then another. We started at just around 25 souls in August. We finished with 15 in November.

On Thursday November 21, 1991 the final 15 souls celebrated. After that final hit, we exhaled collectively; we had succeeded in braving the storm of freshman football like so many other before us. And we let our coaches know. We had but one game remaining, and the coaches could do nothing more to us. We went into the lockerroom, gathered our belongings, and waited for our respective parents, siblings, and friends to come get us.

On Friday, November 22nd it rained. No, it didn't rain. It poured. The rain had started the night before. I heard it when Bonnie Raitt sang that God awful song, Something to Talk About. It just didn't stop. All day. All freaking day! But it's football, I said to myself, we'll play in this. I spoke these words in the hallways to my teammates. Yes, they said, we'll play. We have to play.

We didn't play.

Instead, we had a practice in the gym that evening. A practice in the gym meant minimal hitting and maximum running. We ran until we dropped. Literally. Baseline to baseline. Suicides. All sprinting. With the pads on. Sprint again. When we couldn't sprint with the pads on anymore, we took them off and sprinted more. And sprinted. And sprinted.

When 7 p.m. rolled around, the coach smiled and told us he'd see us the following day. When he left the gym, we all looked into each others' eyes and witnessed the utter terror. Another practice. Another session in torture.

I went home that evening and wept. Yes, I wept. I told my mother I wasn't going back, that I was quitting football forever. I couldn't bear another practice. I couldn't bear another go at 'Ball in the Ring' or 'King of the Hill'. I just couldn't. And I wouldn't. I refused. But it was all an act. I knew I would go. Because I'd have to deal with my father if I didn't. Because I'd have to explain it to my teammates. Explain to them why I had quit. And I wasn't going to do that.

The next day, we watched as the sun rose over a damp field. There was not a person in sight. All the other fall sports had ended. Even the varsity team had the luxury of this Saturday off. I had always taken some solace in the fact that someone else was watching just in case this crazy man tried some stunt that was beyond comprehension. But, on that day, he had the freedom to do whatever he wanted. After stretching, he screamed to the heavens 'Good Morning, Vietnam!' and proceeded to have us hit each other in every way imaginable. 'Ball in the Ring'. 'King of the Hill'. And every other variation, including some he had seemingly imagined over that previous rainy night. By noon, our spirits and bodies were broken. We limped off the field. There was no boasting; there were no comments. We would not test the football gods again.

We went out and played valiantly that Monday against our crosstown rival, the Sheehan Titans. But they were too good, too strong. And we had all of 15 people playing against their significantly deeper sideline of at least 30.

I don't think we won a game that year.

But, my God, we learned how to be tough.

The Birthday Party

We had a busy day. Woke up. Got our haircuts up north. Headed into the city to wash our five big comforter blankets in a laundromat. (I had no idea laundromats had become so expensive.) Went to K&G (a clothing store) to pick out shirts for the night. Came back home. I blogged and then got myself ready. Out the door by 6:40. Arrived at Purr at 7:05.

Purr Cocktail Lounge. It's the bar that sponsors my softball team. A cozy hangout spot, it attracts men and women of every ilk.

We parked in front of the bar, a rarity. As we exited, Chris walked up and greeted us. An actor/singer/dancer, he had a show at 8 but wanted to stop for some food and drink prior to his performance. Rock, a bartender at Purr and fierce competitor on the softball field, offered to buy me my first drink. Beer, I said, Bud Light's fine. I wasn't going to make the mistake of drinking too much too fast. Beer would be just fine.

Matt walked in. One of the Buzz -the team I coached - pitchers this past year. A big Cubs and Jaguars fan. He said hello and immediately turned his attention to the large widescreen television to see if his Cubs could at least win one game against the Dodgers. Drew entered next. A pitcher for another team in the league. A Coug through and through.

Dodge and Vicki came next. I mentored with Dodge in the Community for Youth program last year and grew to respect him a great deal. In fact, I'd say our entire community - mentors and students alike - looked to him as a guide along the windy road of life. He brought with him a friend named Vicki. A conservative Christian from Idaho, the atmosphere obviously challenged her. But she engaged in conversation and stepped far enough outside of her box to enjoy herself, I think.

Tara and Ashley, my two good friends, entered next. I greeted them and talked briefly about fantasy football. How Tara got beat by a team that had four players on bye last week. But I didn't talk to them long before Keren and Harry walked through the door. Keren, the best developer with whom I've had the pleasure of being associated, purchased for me a small flan-like pastry on my birthday proper. But she and her husband still did me the honor of making an appearance at Purr.

Then came a rapid fire of friends. Gabe and Fernando. Fernando, yet another pitcher on the Buzz this past year, I laugh at the fact that he will not refer to me in any other way than 'Coach'. Gabe, his more reserved counterpart, smiled his beautiful smile. They made their way into the fray.

Tony next. The Green Bay kinda from D.C., North Carolina, and L.A. all at the same time. And a writer/producer/editor/director to boot. Contemplating his future at WAMU. A very good friend of mine in the Seattle area. My first best friend in Seattle. Said he'd never step into Purr even though I told him never to judge the book by its cover, and I think he might have enjoyed himself. The horror...

Steven. The fastest person on the Thrusters - the team on which I played - this past season. A good-natured talkative sort who can be counted on to talk to anyone and everyone.

JB and Eric. A couple who moved from San Fran a couple years ago. I played with JB on the Dragons for two years. JB could always lighten the mood while also telling it how it is. We agree on many things, but none more so than the greatness of Reggie.

Todd and Shanan. Shanan I met last night for the first time. Good guy, he seems, but I make no judgment, at least not so early. Todd on the other hand, a Red Sox fan. We shall always entertain an adversarial relationship. Just the way it is. Other than the whole Red Sox thing, he's a good guy who's rebuilding his life at the moment. I've no doubt he'll pull himself up by the proverbial bootstraps...

Twiggy with Katrina. So, Twiggy isn't his real name; it's just one of his many aliases. A good shortstop; a better batter. And rather opinionated as well. Everyone should always have a Twiggy around. Then there's Katrina with her own strong beliefs. She says what she think needs to be said when she thinks it needs be said. It aided her in directing the outfield as the Buzz captain this past year.

I watched as the Cubs successfully choked. 100 years and counting. Then the Brewers. Not nearly as long for them, but still. Here we go Dodgers - Phillies.

CB. It was his actual birthday yesterday (we celebrated together). He's an Animal. No, really, he plays for the softball team named the Animals. The sweetest guy you'll ever want to meet. Just don't piss him off; army ranger, just wouldn't be pretty.

Brett, the Goldschlager and water downing skinny as a rail guy who was deemed the most improved player on the Buzz... by the Buzz. Dawn, the smiling first baseman - or should I say first basewoman - who still surprises people with her hitting even after six years in the league. Chao, the new-to-softball athletic stand-out who has proven to be an intelligent and wise man with whom I have much in common. Randy, the Nebraska-born softball guru who assists in coaching the Thrusters.

CB and I shared a shot in the first hour we were there. It was some kinda peachish-tasting concoction. We liked it enough to have another in the next hour. Oh, right, the whole hour thing. So, as I said, I wasn't going to be in a position to go home at 10. So, I paced. I told everyone that I would drink beer. And that I could handle one shot per hour. It worked.

Another Gabe came in later. Played with him on the Dragons during the Dragons' second year. A good, good player. He started his own team this past year and asked me to be the first baseman. I didn't take him up on the offer for a multitude of reasons. But he's still trying to get me for next year. When he bought my third shot - something with whiskey - he toasted to his new first baseman. I chuckled.

The final guests of the night. Chris and Rico. I had played two years with Chris on the Dragons before we went our separate ways onto different softball teams this past year. A great guy, he has weathered the Starbucks storm - he works in the Seattle headquarters as part of the IT team - rather effectively.

We closed out at Purr. Most of my guests decided to head home. A few tagged along to the Cuff. An interesting place, the Cuff. Big. A bit grimy. Reminded me of the Blue Oyster from Police Academy the first time I stepped inside. Not nearly as bad. Strong drinks. It's the place to go on Capital Hill between the hours of 10 p.m. - 2 a.m. We got ourselves some beer. Fraternized a little. Took some pictures. They bought me a 24 ounce can of Miller Lite. Shout out to Grandpa Murray. Haha. I chuckled some more.

When are you going to dance? they asked me. Uh, not this year. Sorry. Joseph had promised it in the invitation. I disappointed. It just isn't my kind of music at the Cuff. That techno/electronic/hip hop/remix crap. Ick. Blows out my eardrums.

I'm such an old man. And not because I just had a birthday.

We departed around 1:30 and made our way to Jack in the Box. Why does crappy takeout food taste good after a night of drinking? Mystery of modern life.

A shout out to all of those who do read this blog and who did attend the party. Thanks!

To all of those who couldn't come. Maybe next year...