So I turn 33 this week. 33-years-old. Thirty-Three years on this planet. Officially mid-thirties.  It’s a little strange. I don’t feel like I’m 33. Yet, I don’t feel 25 anymore either. Maybe… like 30. So I feel three years younger than I am.

Reflecting on my 33rd year of life, I can say, it’s been a pretty great year. I got married in Hawaii and got my sister married off. It was nice to be in a wedding where I didn’t have to rent a tuxedo. (Thanks Sis!) The Better Half and I drove all over southern Utah, visited the Cedar Breaks and Bryce Canyon, walked the streets of Manhattan, stood on top of the Empire State building, and snorkeled off the Big Island. We drove all over Oahu and walked on the most amazing beach ever, walked through Waikiki (never again) and watched surfers catch waves on the North Shore. I had a life-threatening encounter with a sea turtle. I learned New Jersey is more than just Newark – it’s gorgeous farmland and rural bliss. We ate some of the best-tasting apples ever grown. We literally went both as far east and as far west as you can go in this great country of ours.

We played tourists on the Las Vegas Strip (15 minutes from our condo) and gathered our families together in what well surely be the only time our families will probably ever be in the same place at the same time. We ate dinners at some of the finest restaurants in the entire country (twice inside Encore, and also in Hawaii). We experienced the “Valley of Fire” and found several cool new places around the valley to hike and/or take walks.

I devoted an entire summer to the Dodgers, and I took the wife to her first Dodger game. We ate the most garlicky Garlic Fries ever, saw Manny Ramirez jog back and forth from left field, and watched Clayton Kershaw pitch seven shutout innings. We spent an amazing 24 hours in Pasadena and fell in love with the city.

We watched Oregon kick the living crap out of USC with some friends at a cool local dining spot. We walked around the brand new CityCenter. I think we went out to eat about 200 times… and found at least 100 new places to eat.

We worked six day work weeks and watched as people we’d worked with for years got laid off. Amazingly, I got a raise in a year when most people had their salaries shrink. I can’t think of a single breaking news story that I took part in this year that really, truly stood out in my mind.

I think it’s fairly obvious, the best thing about my 33rd year was having a wonderful amazing woman to share it with.  I love you baby! And it’s the highlights of the year, and luckily, getting born in Mid-December allows me the advantage of looking back on the year that was… and ahead to the year that is coming.

I do, in fact, have a few goals I’d like to accomplish during my 34th year of life… But I think I’m going to meditate on them for a day or two before putting them down. It’s easy to remember the things you’ve done. It’s hard to imagine all those things you want to do.

Due to the NBA Finals, I get to do news after the game. And after Jimmy Kimmel apparently. Then I have to come home, fall asleep, get up in a few hours and go back to work for a regular schedule. Fun with news. Anyway, go Lakers. And I’m still here. Not sure what I’m doing here, but I’m still here. Not that anyone really cares too much.

Atlantis, this is Houston. We are T-minus 100 hours until liftoff.

Marital bliss lies over the horizon. But it’s there. A six-hour flight, a bunny hop and a short drive in the tropics away.

The past 16 months have been the best of my life. My girl and I, we’ve had our struggles, shared our tears and our joys. We’ve experienced awesome things together, and we have the pictures to prove it. And through it all, our commitment to one another has never wavered. It’s been tested, to be sure, but our love & care for each other doesn’t break. Needless to say, it’s pretty freakin’ great.

A week from tomorrow, I’ll be married. And I can’t hardly wait. My bride-to-be is an amazing & wonderful woman, and yet, somehow in this crazy wierd world, I get to be the lucky schmuck that she ends up with.

I love you, babe. Thanks for everything

Well, it’s been a year. Almost.

I’m certain there was a time in my life when I never thought I’d be around to see 2009. Oh, I didn’t think I’d be dead. No, my parents had me pretty damn convinced Christ would have come back by now. There’d be this rapture, and all the good people would fly to heaven, and the bad people would be “Left Behind” (see Christian book series for reference, or watch movie starring none other than… drumroll please…. Kirk Cameron!).

I was 14 or 15 then, a young, impressionable high schooler who believed pretty much everything his parents told him, because, why would I not believe them? At that stage of my life, they had me pretty damn convinced that I would not be around long enough to have sex, get married, play varsity soccer or see the 49ers win another Super Bowl. As it so happened, all of those things came to pass! ( I even got married, divorced, and I’m now set to marry again!  And had a lot of sex. Go figure.)

Needless to say, Christmas-time is wierd now. It used to be all about presents. Then, it was all about Jesus. Now, it’s not about presents or Jesus. In fact, I really don’t know what it’s about, except a reason to trade money back and forth. I’ll send you some cash, you send me some cash, we’ll send some cash to Mom, and everything will be fine. Or, you set limits on the “gift-giving” with your significant other, which is understandable in these current tough times.  I spent only about 50 dollars on my darling fiancee — but the smile on her face when she opened her new robe (which, didn’t fit in her stocking — even though we’d promised we’d only get things that fit in the stockings) was equivalent to finding a gold nugget.

Anyway, the contrast is all the bad things that happen around Christmas time. Suicide rates are always higher this time of year. Two boys were bludgeoned to death by a neighbor with a baseball bat in Phoenix. The terrible, horrific Christmas eve massacre in Covina will haunt that community for years to come. I heard today that a guy shot someone in a movie theater because they were talking during the film. Are you freaking kidding me?

Sidebar: I grew up around guns, my father owned guns – he was a cop – and yet I’ve never really been a fan of them. Gun supporters, how can you not see the that there needs to be more restrictions on guns? Do you really think that tragedy in Southern California would have happened if the shooter only had a knife? I’m not saying outlaw the damn things. Just find a way to keep them out of the hands of people who seek only to slaughter innocent lives. Make someone justify their desire for a gun. Cops need guns. Hunters need rifles. Who needs a sidearm or a shotgun, other than federal agents, police officers or sheriff’s deputies? Certainly, some lines of work are more dangerous than others. But we should all be able to agree that in the battle for gun rights or gun controls, there are too many innocent victims. Don’t quote me the 2nd Amendment - just explain to me how we can keep six-year-old girls from getting shot in the face by deranged, armed men.  ”Guns don’t kill people, people kill people” is not good enough anymore. You are going to have to give some ground in this fight because the blood in the streets is running downhill from your side of the neighborhood. As for anti-gun people — realize you may have to give up some ground too. Finding a compromise on this issue means both sides need to make concessions. But, find the middle ground, all of you, and figure out a way to get guns away from people who would not otherwise act violently. I do not know how you do it, but find a way. We didn’t get to the moon by believing it was impossible.

So bad things happen at Christmas. A few good things happen too — hey, Christmas miracles! The sad thing is that if society pretended that it was Christmas all year, we might feed more people at soup kitchens, get more donations to red kettles, and help more people who need it. But, alas, who has the time? That’s why there’s Christmas-time!

A New Year is coming quick. As for what 2009 holds — it’s anyone’s guess. See you there.

I’ve read that when you don’t know where to start writing, describe the smallest thing. In this case, that would be the tip of a needle. A needle attached to a vial filled with testosterone or as they say down on the ranch, “man juice.” Then, some lady called a “nurse” took said needle and rammed it into my backside. Why, you ask? Because, I apparently needed a boost of the stuff. That’s all I’m at liberty to say for now, but doctors tell me it could have a  very positive effect on my life in the very near future. For now, I’d settle for some sleep but apparently, that’s not going to happen quite yet so I might as well ramble on a bit longer here.

At least, that was my plan about five minutes ago. Now, I think the effects of a pill I took to sleep are setting in. Yay.

I’m not exactly the most knowledgable person when it comes to music, or specifically, Christmas music, but after hearing several different versions of the same Christmas songs over and over again today, I have to say there is no better rendition of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” than the one sung by Bruce Springsteen.

We went out tree hunting this afternoon. What makes the perfect Christmas Tree? Do you prefer Douglas or Noble Firs? To Flock or not to Flock, that is the question, poor Yorick (piss off, Shakespeare purists). Does price matter? (We couldn’t find a tree for less than 30 bucks — and that’s the littlest, dinkiest tree on the lot) Obviously, we all KNOW size matters (we went with about a five footer). And there is something unnatural about walking through a parking lot filled with trees. My girl & I both remember the days when the family would pile into the car, drive down to the Christmas Tree Forest, and the friendly-albeit-scruffy-looking employee in the Santa hat would give Dad a handsaw and off we’d go find the “perfect” tree and cut ‘er down.

 So, we spent 40 bucks, threw the tree in the back of the car and drove around the corner to bring it upstairs and into our home. We manged to get it in & up & about 78% decorated tonight. Predictably, the cats made the tree stand their personal watering trough so I had to wrap it in foil before I got mad enough to throw one out into the semi-cold (it’s been a mild December here). The house would probably smell like pine - if I could smell, but allergies & the dry desert air have all but destroyed my once-all-powerful sniffer.

Here’s my Vegas-ized version… of the good song Bruce belts out so mightily:

You better bring cash, you better bet big, better lose a lot cuz Vegas needs it – Santa Claus is not a whale.

He’s playin’ roulette, his number’s already hit twice, and he always wins big when he throws the dice — Santa Claus is not a whale.

When he’s upstairs sleeping, he gives the casinos a break, and he knows if you’ve lost bad or won big because you’ve probably posted it on MySpace!

Oh! You better bring cash, you better bet big, better lose a lot cuz Vegas needs it — Santa Claus is not a whale – Santa… Claus… Is… Not… A… Whale!

The fat, jolly elf may look like a whale, but let’s face it, he is MAGICAL, for crying out loud! There’s no way he’s going to LOSE on the tables! Always bet on red!

It started without water. It ends with a six pack of beer & a $20 bill. In between, there were 600 miles, a great flood, a trail of tears, a dog named “Bleu,”  Taboo, and a space shuttle nearly landing on top of me. It included sex, drugs (the Rx kind), and rock n’ roll, a chili bowl, Jabba the Hut & kiss my butt.  There was also mom’s bacon & eggs, tule fog, a singing frog, two stops in Primm, a guy named Mike and a pair of red couches. I enjoyed lunch at Frugatti’s, being naughty, five bad scratchers, snacks at Del Taco and getting to play “big bro” again, if only for a day.

I’m sure there’s more, but straight up, it’s time to get some sleep in this city where it’s never easy to come by. As Yoda says, “Rest, rest… …unexpected this is.”

Oh, Caffeine, you once were a friend… a close friend. But, let’s face facts: it’s over. Somewhere over the past few months, we just lost that connection we once had. We grew apart. These things happen. Who knows though? Maybe we’ll run into each other out during lunch, and say hello, or perhaps over a drink, we’ll catch up on those old times. We may even cross paths at “Shoot ‘em up” Starbucks once in a while. We’ll smile, trade a knowing glance, remember the old times and realize in a moment that they are gone. Both of us have new lives now.

Having been to the doctor thrice in the past ten days or so, I know have a working theory that my decision to quit drinking coffee may have had a major impact on my psyche recently. Well, that and a severe lack of sleep. Stress and pressure are still there but not as pressing issues as they once were. My Alli has helped with some ideas on how to make work less stressful and point to a few lights at the end of the tunnel. “This too shall pass,” I believe is the phrase that fits here. Anyway, I have a bunch of prescriptions now, a doctor telling me to get my head on straight, my girl supporting me (as she always does) and a better sense of what needs to be done and where I’m going. So, the sun is shining again. Except that it’s nighttime, and perhaps somewhat ironically, actually raining here in the perennially sunny Las Vegas Valley.

Having recently popped a doctor recommended sleeping pill, it’s time to wrap this up before I pass out facefirst into the new laptop.

It’s two days until Halloween. As a result, stories of ghosts and aliens and other scary things are all over the TV. I watched an exorcism the other night! Creepy. The sad little girl had “6″ in her. Not “Half-Dozen” which would have been at least a little more entertaining. Evidently, ”6,” for lack of a better description, ran a “soul train” on this girl’s spirit.  Sadly, the whole thing freaked me out. I dunno if I believe it or not, (because, I adhere to the credo: “Believe only a quarter of what you see on TV and half of what you read) but… it was freaky.

No Halloween dressups this year. We’ll be lucky if we even have the energy to go out Friday night. But I’m hoping we can somehow get down to the Strip for some people watching. That’s always the best night of the year for it. Pimps and Hos galore!

I believe Game 5 of the World Series is supposed to resume tonight (allegedly). However, there are early reports that Hurricane Obama is moving into the area, so the game could be delayed by a half hour or so. But after that, there’s nothing but “booze” in the forecast (which, all of Philadelphia will go “boo” crazy if the Phillies lose tonight. Remember, these are the same people who booed Santa Claus and cheered when Michael Irvin nearly got killed against the Eagles a few years back. Which, now that I think about it, he probably deserved it.).

Sick days suck. All I need is some rest to start feeling better and yet all I am is restless. The world goes on, without me. Birds chirp, kids giggle, trucks… truck? And it all happens right outside my front door. “Oh, the humanity!” (That’s a direct quote stolen from the Hindenberg disaster clip I recently watched. Again, nothing but scary things on TV this week. Well, that and basketball)

Ok, well, time to hit up the pill bottle for a communion with sandman, or “Sandy” as I like to call him. It’s just sad that we see so little of each other these days. I do miss him so, his smile, the way he brings me crazy dreams about people I don’t know and places I’ve never seen outside my head… *le sigh*

Did you know that just 45 minutes from the Las Vegas Strip there is a wonderful place where you’d never know the desert even exists? My Alli and I took a drive up to Mount Charleston this morning. The map below shows you how to get there from the Strip.


View Larger Map


You can see the road to get there is a tad windy but it’s a pleasant avenue that takes you from the desert into the forest, or if you prefer, the “boondocks.”

During our drive up, we saw some courageous campers cooking morning meals (courageous for sleeping in thin tents during a night which certainly saw temperatures near freezing) and a few hikers preparing to tread down a trail covered in the light dusting of snow that dropped overnight. The leaves are turning for many species, peppering the sky-reaching evergreens with stunning stretches of gold & red leaved trees. The area is breathtaking while at the same time allowing you to take a true breath of fresh air.


The mountain road dead ends at an adorable restaurant with some amazing views of the mountains & colorful trees. We didn’t eat today but we’re already planning a trip back to try the food & enjoy the view. There’s also a bunch of cabins available for rental there — from what we’ve heard, they’re a fantastic escape when you’re just looking to get away from the house for a night.


After driving back down the hill a little ways, (and nearly running over a hiker and his two dogs while rounding a corner) we took a new road (new for us) toward Lee Canyon where the skiiers & snowboarders hit the slopes. We saw more stunning views on that part of our drive, as we stopped a couple times to drink in the crisp cold air. At one chilly stop, we ran into a couple of courageous easy riders who had only leather to protect them from the joy of the open road and at least one wasn’t happy about it. After trading a few laughs, we followed a small manmade trail to a viewpoint where we could see a span of faraway mountains and desert floor that covered almost a hundred miles! (Visibility itself must have been 60 miles at least) But, it was windy, cold and time to jump back in the car to warm up and get back on the road.

We made it all the way up to the Lee Canyon Ski & Snowboard Resort where they’re eagerly awaiting more of the white stuff. In a month, thousands will be fighting for parking spaces and ski lifts; Today, we could have hogged three spaces and the few souls up there with us couldn’t have cared less. We didn’t need to stop though — My Alli was tuckering out and it was time to head back to reality.

Our little trip wrapped up with a swing through the In & Out Drive-Thru. It was pretty good day – and we were home before noon.