WTF - You mean I could have shoved a BALLOON up my nose instead?

So it seems I've fallen behind the medical curve. This article was just posted on MSNBC:

"No one yet knows if balloon sinuplasty works as well as a surgical fix. Only about 100 doctors around the country are trained to offer it, and research is just beginning to track its effectiveness and determine who is a good candidate."

Well crap! So instead of all the pain, and suffering, and BLOOD I could have paid a doctor to shove a balloon up my nose and inflate? Seriously? What a cluster of a short stick! Damn. Guess I'll have to renew that subscription to Medical Quarterly to keep up on my PHD'ness.

I know - why so many post about your birthday?

Whatever; you only turn 30 a couple times in your life - I've got a lot of shit going on people, cut me some slack! I turn 30, get another Porsche, quit my job, prepare to start a new one, find out I have two children who are 2 & 6!? I've got a LOT of shit going on here!!

I love Polaroid. Because I'm an anal photo geek (with credentials mind you) I color corrected the image you are looking at (just a little, it's still Polaroid-y looking, just less yellow). That was part of my birthday extravaganza; them being photographed with the Happy Birthday message. Great idea. Great Concept. Expertly executed. I must be rubbing off.

And That's That

Come this Tuesday I will no longer be employed by H&R Block. I had a blast even when I was down mostly because of the people I worked with. I'm not going far for christ's sake, I just won't be there day in day out trying to make you laugh, or pissed off; however you want to look at it.

I'm going to miss you jackasses - especially you scarecrow.

Sight To Behold

What people here in the mid-west don't seem to understand is that there is a utopia out there hidden from them. Sure, Kansas City has things like kick-ass bar b q, very friendly people, and crazy light traffic (trust me, you don't KNOW bad traffic if this is all you've ever experienced)...but you are unaware of a simple pleasure that so very close to my heart; UTZ potato chips.

See, you can only get them on the east coast (right right, you can find pretzels at Sams or Costco, but not the CHIPS people). I grew up with these all natural chips. Backyard crab feasts with UTZ. Picking with UTZ. Comfort food UTZ. When I discovered that MSG was slowly killing me and I would no longer be able to eat Bar B Q chips, SourCream and Onion or even *gasp* no more Cool Ranch I was devastated. But you see, UTZ doesn't USE MSG like all the other brands of chips so I'm SAFE! But I can't GET them here - unless I get cases SHIPPED to me that is!

So thanks again to my wife for the wonderful present (see, my folks and my cousin Moe sent me a couple boxes when I had sinus surgery a couple moths ago). And no, you can't have any.

30 plus a day

10951 days I have been on this earth. As far back as I can remember I have been obsessed with cars - specifically fast cars. Porsches always attracted me due to the pristine lines, engines, handling, and out and out power. While at Digex I started seriously researching sports vehicles: Volvo 1800s, Austin Healy Sprite, and the Porsche 912. I figured a Porsche would be out of my reach for a long time till I discovered the little known (to me) 4 cyl classic Porsche with the 911 look: 912. I have a whole site dedicated to the 912, specifically my first Porsche.

I sold her (the 912 that is) for a number of reasons, but mainly to get a 911. As much as I love the 912s (and I plan on having more when I have the space) I needed more POWER. I looked at the 944 Turbo S, older (70s) 911s, but really fell in love with the 1989-1992 AWD 911 Carrera 4. Anyhow, I now have a whole site dedicated to my new Porsche as well, so I'll end this history lesson here.

I am now 30 years old. I wanted to accomplish a number of things before I hit this mark, especially since I didn't think I'd make it this far. Now I have to make a whole new list of things I want to accomplish for the next 30 years - I think I'll start with the next 10 to be safe.

Love you mom & dad, love you jen & mark & kids, love you tammy & chris & kids, love you karen & jim, love you mildred & roy, love you ruth & jack, love you ty & chloe, and especially love a certin person named kara.

My Wife Really Loves Me

So we attend my cousin's sons birthday at the Arena Football game in downtown Kansas City. They have all the kids set up in a big open room. Multiple kids parties here - great idea for a set up (stick kids in a big open room with small footballs and they will have a good time). Fun time. Some kid in a go-cart comes in and buzzes the room. A guy doing magic. Kids liked it.

So I'm towards the back of this open area, walking with my little girl, and what do I see enter the hall?? A Maxim-Photo-Spread come to life. Holy god!? In saunters the Arena Football cheerleaders to pose for pictures with the little boys who's birthdays it is. The boys are 6!?!?

After I deal with the daggers my wife has shot me for staring open mouthed, I walk my little girl around some more. My son (so I am told, I missed him actually saying it) leans in and blurts out "they're HOT!" My boy.

As they work their way to the exit, I see my wife jog after them. She turns around with a shit-eating grin - seems her husband has a birthday coming up. Not the best quality picture, but a kick ass one none the less.

Should you ask the woman on the elevator if she's ok?

I've been having a string of good fortune as of late. I've recently accepted the position of Vice President of Interactive Strategy for Two West Inc. I start my new position April 17th. Forgive me for stating the obvious, but I am rather excited at the potential for the future; which leads me to this afternoon:

I like to believe that I am a compassionate person. I try and offer help where I can to total strangers as well as good personal friends. I get on the elevator - 32nd floor. I'm already changed into my workout clothes. I'm pumped for a number of reasons (going to the gym early, leaving early, father-in-law is taking the boy for the night). Elevator stops on 27 (I believe). A woman enters the elevator, obvious that she had been (a) crying (b) about to cry (c) obviously upset.

"are you ok?" I ask.

"no, I'm not ok...I've just been fired..." she blurts out.

What seams like an endless passing of floors on the way down to one I'm hit with "holy shit, get me off this god-damn elevator" to "holy shit, this poor girl" to "what in the hell am I going to say to this woman to help her in the least!?"

"I'm so sorry..." is all I can muster. Stunned, not a clue, hoping she sees into my face and realizes that I will in fact listen for the remainder of ride and actually care.

"I had too much to drink last night and said something I shouldn't have...I've worked there 10 years...what am I going to do..." she almost mutters to herself all the while looking blankly into my eyes.

"I'm so sorry...are you going to be ok to drive" I say, still not having a CLUE what to do in a situation like this.

"Probably not..." Choking back the tears.

Elevator hits one.

I'm stunned - standing there having just been stripped from my high, looking at this woman who at that very moment was in the complete opposite state of mind as I glances at me for the last brief moment...

"and the worst part is my husband has cancer" stated matter of fact with a slight hint of rage.

And then she disappeared in the opposite direction. As she walked away I said for the last time "I am so sorry..." which now sounds so trite it sickens me.

Could I have said something other then "I'm sorry" to make her feel any better? Did I even help by opening my mouth and asking if everything was ok? Could I have done more? I just think I could have done more then "I'm sorry" even though I really am. What a shitty end to the day - to be fired the day after you say something in mixed company the night before.

Sitting here (still) all I can think is I am so very sorry for this woman who got onto the elevator this afternoon. I really hope she is ok.

How Sports Saved My Soul

I've been grappling with a number of varying emotions as of late, specifically with the current state as to which I reside. I wasn't raised with a football in my hand, nor was I inundated with the Sunday spectacle which is traditionally know as "Game Day". Sports were always an option, a fun activity, not a way of life. I have no memories of hard coaches pushing us to the limit of our abilities. I have no memories of a father forcing me to "...catch one more..." or "...you can run faster then that..." or "...what are you, a girl??...". What I do have are fond memories of playing catch with my dad, playing soccer as far back as I can remember, and how much it hurt to be cut from the Baseball Team my Freshman year of High School. It never occurred to me while I was living on the East Coast that I in fact love sports - watching Caps games (glass seats, of course), the O's at Camden Yards (box seats, of course), the Bullets (now known as the Wizards), and even the Skins and Ravens. But how does that play out for my son; my daughter?

This past weekend my boys (the 10 six year olds whom I coach U6 soccer - I call them my boys) played their second game. I won't even go into the debacle of the first. We play split fields: Aggressive and Non-Aggressive. I coach the Aggressive side while my assistant coach coaches the Non-Aggressive. After the game, my son runs over to me (having played on the Non-Aggressive side) and screams "I scored 3 GOALS dad!!!"

My son. 3 goals. Holy shit. 3 goals? Not 3. He scored 3!?

So after a post game custard and I start to review the things I want to work on for next practice, it hits me - I've been introducing soccer to my son since he was very little. Soccer is one of my favorite sports, so I started him young. Fundamentals, introduction of varying tactics, aggressive attacking on my part to allow a core understanding. It worked. I mean, holy fuck, it actually worked. And I saw it coming. I watched him start to dribble the ball without thinking about it - with both feet. It's taken him a little longer then most, but I hoped that when it clicked, he'd be stellar - and he is.

When we moved to the mid-west it was a "concern" as to how I would broach the sports issue with my own children living in such a sports engrossed town? Taking cues from my own father while incorporating a drive that I felt could have pushed me a little harder has really brought a sense of "this is cool as shit".

I look forward to the day I can scream at my daughter openly, with a group of witnesses such things as "ATTACK!!" and "you call that a KICK!?" and my favorite "sweep the LEG!"

I totally wanted one of these as a kid - DAMN YOU MOM AND DAD!

So much has happened since last I posted...little site called H&R Block launched to a new Look and Feel, shit with the kids, crap with the wife, new soccer season, still no cool ass new car, and a ton of other stuff that seems to be missing...OH YES, the whole no smoking or drinking thing. Kind of hard to have a BLOG called drunk in life when in fact you are currently sober in life? Oh well, next January 6th we'll see who confusing who!?

So in a moment of random events, I mention to my nephew (who is into Transformers) that a live motion picture is in the works. I look up when the release is (2007) and let him know. I search on eBay for a Megatron to see what those realistic guns are going for - HOLY SHIT, $351!!?? My mom and dad wouldn't let me have one of these beauties as a child because I might have "pointed it at someone..." all the while owning REAL guns which I shot in my backyard? Go figure.

Holy CRAP; I thought I knew EVERYTHING about photo!?

"We know that Prokudin-Gorskii intended his photographic images to be viewed in color because he developed an ingenious photographic technique in order for these images to be captured in black and white on glass plate negatives, using red, green and blue filters. He then presented these images in color in slide lectures using a light-projection system involving the same three filters."
Making Color Images from Prokudin-Gorskii's Negatives

So, it seems we actually had color negatives in and around 1909. He knew the process would work at some point and the technology would catch up to his vision. Amazing.

The beauty of clearance

I try and find different ways to express myself creatively. You try being a creative individual when you are limited day to day in corporate america. I know I've whored my sole for a somewhat comfortable life, and my "work" has suffered because of it. Where the hell is this going you ask? So we're in PierOne looking for holiday gifts. I glaze over. I find that in 5 minutes, I've walked the store 3 times now, while my wife is stuck in one fucking section. I mean, for god's sake, it's PierOne - hell, it's even a PierOne CLEARANCE store - just pick it up and lets get the hell out of here.

That's not 100% accurate, but you get where I'm at.

So when the wife catches up to me we're in the candle holder section. I look over at these things stacked and say:

"Those are kind of cool..."

Not skipping a beat (since I hate all things candles I'm sure my wife is thinking I'm drunk and she's about to score the score of all ages - more useless candle crap) she says:

"Where we're you thinking (of putting them)..."

To which I respond:

"On the wall. Above the mantle."

Wife:

"Really? How?"

Me:

"Screws. They're just made of wood..."

So my art project comes to life. 2 screws per little "hand-carved" candle holder. Less then a buck a pop (they were listed at $8 originally. Who the fuck spent $8 a pop on one of these? If that's you reading, PLEASE send me a picture of yourself, I'll do a post solely dedicated to you!!). I like it. Wife likes it. It's pretty cool looking. The picture doesn't do it justice.

Ah...the happy times

As I sit here wanting to rant about all the things current in my life I'm struck with one small issue - I can't hop in my classic 1966 Porsche 912 and make it all go away. I had my wife take this picture to punish myself when things get real down (not that they are by any means, I just miss my damn car). So here's the happy bastard and my baby. I hate Missouri. Not that I hate Missouri per say, but the fact that I can't buy another Porsche due to having to pay property tax on cars EVERY YEAR!? Fucking ridiculous.

slant32.com will soon have a number to notable updates to the portfolio section - watch for those. My latest Halloween effort has been posted.

And not to combine posts too much, but I recently finished my first U6 soccer season coaching my son's team. What a great experience. Parents actually LET you scream at their kids - who knew? And they want me back for the Spring? Crazy shit my people, crazy shit indeed.

I have a number of articles to post in regard to finance, design, usability, but damn if I don't miss my Porsche. Soon my masses, soon.

Men & Women & Flash

I have to post about my boy having a killer soccer season, and I have to post my latest costume (to see previous years, click here) - but first I have to post this little animation I was just sent.

Funny as hell.

Other posts to come - tonight hopefully.

No sheep were harmed...

Simple little flash game, but damn if it isn't fun to play!

Sheep Tranquilizer

My children get this from their mom

My poor children. It's as if they are wanting to start boxing, or mob enforcement. You know, starting the scars and black-eyes early to intimidate.

So I get home from soccer practice, pick up some junk food (take 3 of those miniature chicken sandwiches, some shrimp-fried-rice and a 7UP), pop in the new Batman Begins and attempt to relax in the basement. It's 8pm, the littlest one should be on her way to bed.

"(patter of little feet) dada, dada, DADA..."
"Hi honey. Want to watch with me?"
"Okay. Alright."

So it becomes a family affair as soon as the wife discovers the little one got downstairs. Ty on the chair, me with my mound of junk, and the little one in between me and the wife under a rather large quilt. As I'm watching and eating I don't notice my daughter squirming next to me attempting to reach towards the coffee table - neither does me wife. The sound that came next is hard to describe in words. Think: Thud + Wham + Clunk + Holy SHIT my kid just hit her fucking head on the wooden coffee table and didn't my OTHER kid just get rushed to the emergency room for possibly breaking his nose - kind of sound. Then eerie silence. Then explosion of horrific screams.

So she just missed her eye (thank god), is rather swollen, but all in all in great spirits. What next, the dog is going to walk into a bear trap?

Who says miniature golf is a safe sport?

No, this isn't me after a drunken brawl on Saturday night licking my wounds (like I'd post pictures of that - ok, I might). No, this is what happens when you have children - anything!

As the story goes - he's repeating it to every person at Children's ensuring that his loving parents didn't inflict the damage themselves (which I can respect to ensure there hasn't been and abuse, but still it's mildly unnerving). He was at Paradise Park, they were outside playing Putt-Putt, he was inbetween the slacker kids and the fast moving kids, he hits a "square shaped block on the ground..." and catches himself with his nose. Now, the swelling has yet to go down (it's been less then 24 hours), but the doctors asked us to check to see if he in fact has broken his nose. My wife asks me frantically "What do we DO if it's broken???" Ummm, watch him grow up with a crooked nose? That's about it. Besides, it looks cool. By the time he's 10 the story will go something like this "so there I was, 25 8th graders about to pounce, me being only 6 at the time, I had to think fast...thank god for that military training...it's about all that saved me..."

So to this he got no staples, no stiches, and no shots - a good day in his mind. His reward? Cartoons, donuts, Wendy's and a little extra room on his bedtime. Oh, and can you believe my wife had never eaten a Big Mac till last night?

Dude, I'm Irish - and stop trying to steal my rental!

Well this was one of those weekends I needed the entire week to figure out (since I was averaging about 2 hours of sleep a night). My cousin got married this past Saturday - I was the best man. Now, I could turn this entry into a very negative account of events that occurred up to the event, or I could concentrate on the ridiculous events that happen the weekend of. Not sure if family reads this so I'll stick to the stuff that happened directly to me.

So it was a monsoon season apparently in the Annapolis area. Introduce a shit load of rain into an area that has been bone dry for weeks and you get flood issues. Thank god my rental was an AWD Saturn VUE, or so I thought. To save on money I stayed with friends locally (thank you very much). They live in PG County. THAT NIGHT over conversation it was mentioned "man, they just released a stat that PG County averages 40+/- car thefts a day!" So I think "wow, I should own a chop shop in PG County."

After the rehearsal dinner at a bohemian restaurant in the sticks I get back to my friends house, grab a drink and pass out on the couch in the basement. At 6:30am I am awoken by the familiar sound of a distant car alarm...that can't be MY rental car alarm...fuck, it is, isn't it? So I walk upstairs, walk out in the storm, and see my rental blinking and honking. I hit the button to stop it. Walk around the vehicle, check out the interior, nothing. Now, for those that don't believe it was an attempted jacking, there was NO lightning and NO tree branches.

**When you are out of town without your wife and two small children there are certain cardinal rules that are put into place (1) ALWAYS have your wedding ring (forgot mine because I was working out the night before - I swear, seriously) (2) ALWAYS drink more since you don't have a disappointed finger shaking at you when you return home (3) ALWAYS sleep LATE, since for the past 6 years you don't even know what sleep means**

So I'm awake now. I got about the day. Hang with my cousin who wanted to spend the day at the Scottish Festival in our KILTS (oh yes, I had to wear a kilt tux for the wedding - which I looked cool in, pictures later), but thanks to the rain that was out. Went to the wedding, had a lovely time. Gave a nice speech. Hung out with some cousins. Sent the groom off to a good start) All around good time.

I have an early ass flight Sunday AM, and I get back to where I'm staying by around 1:30am. I crawl downstairs, turn off the lights and make sure to set my alarm on my cell phone. At 2:15am what do you think happens? Come-on kids, if you've gotten this far I'm sure you can figure it out?? The FUCKING alarm goes off on my rental AGAIN! I go outside ready to draw blood. No one around, nothing wrong, I missed them. I guess they really wanted that Saturn. So instead of going back in and waiting by the window I drive around Silver Spring a bit, then drop the car off 6 HOURS EARLY and spend the rest of the time at BWI.

Lesson learned - pony up for the hotel and make SURE to rent a Vibe next time (who the hell wants one of those anyway).

No man can eat 50 eggs!

So as I type in numbing pain from the "congestedness" of my kidneys I peruse past stupid things I've done in the past year. It kills time and makes me smile at my own stupidity; like the time...

So I might have had a couple Pabst down on the farm (wife's family, fridge full of Pabst, insert your Deliverance image "here") one sunny afternoon. Actually, I think it started to drizzle, anyway...so the conversation comes around to stupid bets. It's tossed out by my uncle Gary "like the Saltine bet...gets em every time..." Saltine bet? What the hell was he talking about? "What the hell are you talking about Gary?" He looks at me as if I didn't grow up on the farm (which I didn't) "you know, 10 Saltines in 1 minute...can't be done..." I look at him with a Pabst buzz and say "...so let me get this straight, 10 Saltines, 1 minutes and all I have to do is eat them? And that's the bet?" He looks right back at me "$100 says you can't do it..." Well holy crap, we've got a wager about to happen.

So this is where women add another level of misunderstood ignorance. My wife was present for this whole exchange, or was it she only came out from the house when she (with her bionic ears that I KNOW she got instead of that teeth cleaning a couple of years ago...who goes out of state to have their teeth cleaned?) heard the possibility I was going to win $100 flat and that might be too exciting a thing for me so she MUST squelch that dream along with all the others!

So I wasn't "allowed" to bet $100 on a deal that was sure to be the easiest thing I had done in the past week. They get 10 Saltines. We get a watch with a second hand. Someone has to grab a camera. 4. 3. 2. 1. I pop the first one in, then the second, then the third...now here I must interject that I must have been dehydrated from all the quality beer I was being served, that and the fact that I do not believe they were actually Saltines since Saltines use lard which I think would have helped me. Needless to say, I was dry as the Sahara by cracker 4 and lost the bet.

Kids, listen to uncle Andrew - Pabst + Farm + Bet = never a good idea.

My Kidneys Have Failed Me

So, as a recommendation, when you have constant shakes, night sweats, lower back pain, and all around confusion - go see a doctor. I'm sitting here, in enormous pain, sweating though my clothes because I have a severe kidney infection. I haven't been able to sleep, I've even broken out into hives (though, they've gone away since yesterday). Mind you, my boss is still on me about the projects that are piling up, even while I'm sitting here about to vomit...Corporate America sucks.

So, how did I get it? Don't know. According to the doctor, they can build up and at the slightest moment hit you like a truck. I walked in from work, and literally passed out on the couch.

Water and Gatorade are my only hope in making it though the next few days.

Teaching an OldBoy new tricks

If I hadn't become a photographer who happened to become a designer who happened to become a digital art director I would have studied film. I adore the medium. Hell, I've written two partial scripts that I should really complete before I start on a new project I've been kicking around. I am privileged enough to have enough information in my head where as I can honestly say "Ask me anything related to photography and I can answer it..." I know a lot about a lot of shit, but photography is my golden concept. Film would be my second. At one time I had a DVD collection of well over 400. I have since pawned off many titles, but all in all I can hang with most on an intellectual level about the art medium of film.

OldBoy. I had read I needed to see it. I had read that it made many "must own" lists. I was anticipating it's DVD release. I watched it last night and I must say, for a film to stay with me 24 hours later must really mean something. It was as if I was watching Taxi Driver for the first time - SE7EN - The Usual Suspects - To Kill A Mocking Bird. Films which I hold in the highest regard. I explained the plot to my wife tonight and she looked at me in awe. The story is such that captured my imagination to express perhaps a minute reflection into my own work. It's been a long time since something has hit me so hard. Rent it. Own it. Watch it multiple times. Even if you don't "like" it the staying power is insane.

Since we're here on this subject, lets allow some other titles that you may have never heard of but should:

City of Lost Children (French)
Dellamorte Dellamore
Charade
Way of the Gun
Insomnia (the ORIGINAL people, the ORIGINAL)
Shallow Grave