Tangled in a World Wide Web

The videos didn't work very well.  The audio was horrible.  Not going to post anything with audio because of it.  Here's a link to some pics .  They were all taken with my phone so...

I haven't been to a real concert in ages. I have seen some live performances, some very good ones, but I haven't actually gone to a serious ear-bleeding concert in more years than I can count. This was a choice I made consciously, a supposed informed decision. As of this moment, I cannot remember what logic I used to arrive at that decision. Last night (Monday), I went to a concert in Columbus, GA. (I know, right?) For just over forty dollars, I was privy to Papa Roach, BuckCherry and Avenged Sevenfold, along with newcomers Burn Halo. Now, I know that A7X was the headliner with BuckCherry but I was most looking forward to Papa Roach. Either way, for forty bucks, I couldn't miss. If it wasn't bad enough that I was the old guy at a concert definitely not targeted to my specific demographic, but I had to go alone. {collective awww} (I know, right?) My buddy had to back out because of some work entanglements. I almost didn't go myself because I wasn't sure I wanted ...

Let me say, without any bias at all, that my niece is a budding actress and a damn fine one at that. All of my sister's children have participated at one time or another in plays and skits and such. Spenser, at 14, has decided he prefers behind the scenes work now, usually with lighting and or sound. Reed, 10, won an outstanding student award this summer, after attending a camp sponsored by the Springer Opera House, an honor for sure. Sydney, 7, and Macy, who just turned 6 last week have each had small roles in several productions at Family Theatre . My sister and her husband Jason, have acted, directed, written and everything else you can name from snacks to photos. Last night, (Saturday) I saw Macy in her first lead role; it was the title character in Heidi. Now, I'm no actor, nor am I a critic. I consider anyone who can get onstage in front of a bunch of people without wetting themselves darn talented and darn lucky. However, Saturday night, in a show of about 14 characters ...

A friend invited me over on the pretense of returning a borrowed book. I say pretense because, I am convinced the ulterior motive was good, old-fashioned torture. When I arrived, it was already in motion. Seemingly innocuous, it stood off to the side like a wallflower, like the middle school student who came to the dance without a date. "Would you like to play a game?" I'm reminded of an old movie with Matthew Broderick and Dabney Coleman. "No, I have to get home." It was true; Grey's Anatomy was not a repeat and besides, I'm a proud couch potato. "Just one game... it's awesome!" Finally, I relented to try baseball, because "all you have to do is hit a home run". Yeah, like point and shoot with an M1 Abrams Tank. No problem. Thirty balls later and I'm breathing like a pervert with a burn phone. "Let's try bowling." Bowling sounds good... no real athleticism involved. My kind of game. Turns out, I haven't bo...

I am not naive. I know how the real world works; I just never lowered myself to that standard. I guess I have come, once again, to that crossroad, the time to make a decision about myself, my work and my ethics.  This is not hard for me. I am forty years old and never once have I wavered on certain things. I do not go to work to be popular, and ambition is a younger man's game. I try to stay within the guidelines of the company I work for - which can be hard when they are ever-changing. I do not brown-nose or suck up. I speak my mind no matter who it offends. I do not say anything privately that I would not say publicly and most importantly. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. One of the lowest forms of life has two faces. It is the most vile and disgusting creature that slithers across the planet. It is not very smart but it is cunning. It has long been my belief that these filthy critters were ephemeral, flitting in and out of the periphery of life and finally dying slow and...

I guess it truly is inevitable. One day, we all wake up, look in the mirror and see our parents... I grew up in a single parent home and while I was certainly aware of the difference (back then, most of my friends had two parents living at home), I never felt as if I were missing anything important. I never felt deprived or underprivileged, neglected or abused. I knew that we didn't have everything that we wanted and that my mother struggled constantly to make ends meet but we had everything we needed. There was never a time when we were hungry or cold or naked.  My father's contribution, beyond the initial biological donation, was mostly empty promises. I suppose, on some level, as a child, I hoped for more occasionally; but by the time I was a teenager and working, and as I became more aware of the tenuous balancing act that my mother had been performing for my whole life -- as I began to understand the sacrifices she had made over and over again to keep from having to always...