Week End

Ten years ago, I did not value weekends. I did not honor them...I just didn't have them, period. In fact, I spurned weekends, thinking they were for the weak, for those who lacked dedication. In my mind, I was on a mission, and I just had to work hard 24/7. Anything less was not my best. Somehow my identity was so entwined with my work that I was lost.

Okay, maybe that was only six years ago.

Today, this being a FRIDAY, I cannot fathom that person I was. I have been aching for this day since Monday, and that's not probably any more healthy than being a workaholic. I am not going to any fall festivals, football games, parties...I am not even looking forward to anything on television. I will not be sleeping in (never do) and I don't even know what being bored is all about. The hammock is for Homer Simpson. Give me a hammer!

I have been aching and itching to build something. This weekend, at last, I may get some of the raw materials to do just that. I'll have to borrow a pickup, and I'll have to borrow some time from work (as I am perpetually behind now that I have this more healthy perspective on work), but I fully intend to get cracking.

It is also payday Friday, which for me is a rarity, as we only get paid monthly in the first place, and that seldom lands on a Friday. I'm going to expend all my fun money in the budget (that's a joke in itself) all-too-quickly, I know, but I have SO YEARNED for this opportunity.

Not even rain will stop me.

No force in heaven nor on earth could keep me from my mission--except my family. If they beck and call, I will forfeit all of the above. Let's hope it doesn't come to that. Maybe I can tool the tribe up with hammers, saws, gloves, etc. Maybe I can take them with me to Mecca: the hardware store!

Anticipation is killing me. I still have work to do for the next 3 hours, 46 minutes and 14 seconds.

Last day of summer!

Usually as seasons change, semesters end, people age--I get all sad and sappy. I'm trying not to, trying to resist regret and to instead reflect and wax nostalgic. Like a year in review, here's my summer in review:

• Built a carport
• Got a goat
• Carson to the ER for a hot punk in the eye
• Edison to the ER for another head injury
• Taught too much online
• Built a technical writing course online
• Developed a good workshop for SL
• Worked with some good staff members on SL
• Met a great new crop of students for Fall
• Got a new office set up
• Met my goal for my blog (at least in number of entries)
• Massive birthday party (complete with tent city campout)
• Had another kid, Ellison!
• Went home to Ulysses
• Had a good run w/a garden (not up to snuff, but okay)
• Kept the place mowed down

Well, it's better than lamenting all the stuff that didn't get done, anyway.

Lawn Chair

Design by Fung & Blatt Architects.

This is my sense of humor. It might even be comfortable, except for the chiggers, fleas, ticks...

Don't Shoot Me!

So, I'm writing from my wife's scrap book room, a room virtually wallpapered with photographs of people. It makes me think about those people who have an issue with being photographed. (No, not those who are ugly or disfigured like the Elephant Man!) I'm not writing here about people who are camera shy, like my mom, either.

There are people of some faiths who feel that to have one's picture taken is to rob them of their spirit. There are others who argue against photos for some reason founded in "no graven image" language somehow (I'm admittedly lazy tonight and not bothering to look this up right now.) If those folks have a point, then my family is DOOMED. We take about 200 photos every time a child is born. My wife took about 5000 pictures a year, as I recall, when she first got her digital camera!

I hope they're wrong about pictures stealing one's soul!

Service-Learning

I believe in service-learning. I have long been a champion of the pedagogy, for at least 15 years by my count. I ran a big SL program. I argued and fought long/hard for that program. I made many friends and more than a few enemies through SL. Being the "executive director" of a SL non-profit 501(c)3 taught me more than 10 years of college ever did. I also served in the decade I was engaged in SL administration (and frankly lots of field hours painting, picking up trash, etc. for I believed a leader must also serve)...more then than in the other 3/4 of my life...and more likely more than I ever will again.

It's powerful to have something to believe in.

Now, having said that, I sometimes wonder about the edges of SL. What the general definition of SL encompasses is: learning from service. That should have been founded on community voice and input, should be meeting a legitimate need, should be empowering and improving the servant and those served, and should always have a learning component (otherwise, it's just volunteering). Definitions overlap when considering civic engagement, community service, etc.

One area of overlap that I am leaning more toward all the time: internships. Traditionally SL stops a mile shy of the internship, for that smells too much like self-serving engagement in the lucrative world of the for-profit. In other words, bleeding heart types often would rather keep their eggs all in the basket of social service and social change. Volunteering becomes something else when a company that could afford to hire someone capitalizes on hapless do-gooders.

Still....if someone is giving their time to the greater good (even the corporate greater good) and if they are learning from it, then it seems to have potential that in all my program development we never explored. Students win. The company wins. Even the college could win, in that they might garner corporate $upport and $cholarship monies in exchange for farming out interns. Writing that out makes it seem a bit too much like bad business for colleges, but is it? Really? Is it unethical? Is it somehow lessening the umpah of ServiceLearning?

I am unresolved.

What--I was hungry!

Edison, I have a terrible confession to make.

Karate ROCKSTAR

House-guests come and go. Even without participating in the global phenomena of couch surfing, I've entertained quite the legion of extraordinary individuals. It's been said there are only something like 6 degrees of separation between you and anyone else of note, but seriously, who's the most famous, important, prominent celebrity you've ever hosted? I've taken Robert F. Kennedy, Jr. to lunch. I've dined at a banquet hall with two or three presidents. I have shaken hands (and since washed them thoroughly) with many politicians. I've known people who knew people who were People, from rock stars to movie icons...but the most impressive person I've ever had in my home, hands-down, has been Shihan Fumio Demura.





This man, this legend, has taught karate since 1965. One should visit this Homepage which traces the lineage of leadership from 6th century, Shaolin Kung Fu to today's Genbu-kai. Sensei has had a powerful influence on literally thousands of karate students worldwide (and I do mean worldwide!) In addition to everything else, he has had a hand in authoring 4 books and has been involved in over a dozen movies (training Steven Segal and Chuck Norris, even). Consult his resume, for it will really knock your Gi off!

I have encountered him through my father-in-law and family. My father-in-law has been a student of karate under Sensei Demura for over 25 years. His life has been profoundly influenced by martial arts, and he has passed that on to many, many people throughout the midwest. Through this relationship, Demura came to stay at our home over this last weekend.

Sure, he's a lethal weapon. Yes, he has an army of followers who would take a bullet for him. I'll give you that he's the devil in a black belt...but none of that is what I find impressive. What really wows me about him is that in spite of all that fame and importance, he's a down-to-earth guy. He's humble! (Maybe not in his arena of karate; I couldn't say, but in my home and encounters, he's been the most kind and humble person in my door.)

He preferred to stay with us, at our little farm house, swarming with kids and chaos, over any hotel in the greater Wichita area. He enjoyed playing with my little kids, making origami swans and such. He painted(?) words for each person in our house and cooked us a great supper as a thank you for hosting him. The guy was right there in the hearth of it all, the entire time he was not at the karate tournament. (I have family members more distant than this international superstar!)

I am not good at conveying my feelings to people, especially when the person is once-removed from me or when I have something really heart-felt to share. Here's what I wanted to say to him, to just sit down on the couch with him and say:

You know, Sensei, you are such a delight. The people of karate owe and show you a lot of respect, while I don't even know how to bow properly...but I want you to know that I respect you deeply. I admire your passion for your art, your monastic discipline, your unflagging leadership. Thousands know you as an icon of karate, and for that, you will always be remembered throughout history. For me and my house, however, you hold another value. You have given Dean a model to aspire to, and that has enriched his life then rippled through so many others' lives around here (including my own). The lives you touch outside karate matter to you just as much as those who practice your art. My own wife and children have been befriended by you, entertained and instructed by you. You have invested in our household in a way I will always appreciate. I wish I had the nerve to tell you all this in person, but I am too awestruck. All I can add is my eternal thanks for being "all here" when you have been with us. You will always be with us, even though you are jet-setting from Canada to Kansas, Germany to Brazil...

Leave my 'net alone!

Last week, I found an alarming article at the Technology Liberation Front, here, that forewarned the Internet is being threatened by Obama's CyberSecurity Bill: "According to a report by CNET’s Declan McCullagh, a draft bill in the U.S. Senate would grant President Obama “cybersecurity emergency powers” to disconnect and even seize control of private sector computers on the Internet."

BFD? OMG?! What will it be?

Are we going to continue being electronic sheep, letting ourselves be narrowed to nothingness online? What's the hope for free speech if even the Internet is in peril. Obviously hardcopy newspapers are blowing away. Obviously televised news is all under the heel of media giants. What will happen if someone fires up a swarm against something the big "O" considers sacred? Will he then wave his majestic hand and cut off the 'net? What will govern the government's grasp on this? Maybe our current president is of sound mind and only going to use said powers judiciously, but what about the next president, or the one after that?

The more power we align under the executive branch, the more we tilt toward fascism.

09/09/09

*sigh*

I really wanted to celebrate this day somehow. A few years ago, I wanted to get married on 2/2/02. That would have been significant. I wish I could have gone sky-diving or gotten a tatoo or something today!

Instead, it was a day of work and a night of mediocrity.

I don't know the word for those dates that align like this, but I know there won't be another for a long while. Bummer.

Why I'm not a very good care-giver...

So, this weekend we hob-nobbed with my great aunt and uncle, she 89, he 92. On the first brush with them in years, we were standing in line to order. She came up closer to me to say something, then she wobbled, teetered, and nearly lost her balance. The Right Thing to do would have been to step up and catch her. Instead, I flinched.

I hope the flinch was all in my head. I hope she did not notice. I know I did not bump into the next person in line beside me. I didn't spill my pop. I did not blurt out something out loud, like, "Ahhh! Get away from me!" It was, in any case, a very unmanly move on my part. I credit it to being so far removed from the role of care-giver. Yes, I have a septuagenarian living in my home, but she's a bit more light on her feet, like a turtle.

It's not that I fear the elderly. I do not run from the feeble or needy, as if they were zombies or something. I'm just not accustomed to being a catcher. (You'd think I would be, if you knew how sometimes-clumsy my wife is!) Parenting involves righting toddlers and propping up babies, but not catching a slow-falling senior citizen.

I need to get better at this. I simply have to, for there will come a day when my services are needed. If nothing else, I'll likely have to watch my own footing, someday. Besides, I am a kind and loving person, and my body language (and follow-through) should reflect that! I can't back away when someone needs me.

While I'm analyzing my weaknesses, I am very bad at condolences. I just cannot bring myself to express my sorrow at some one's loss. Most of the problem is that I just don't know how to talk it out, and thus, I think I come off sounding insincere, flaky, like a Hallmark card. This all started being a problem when I was on a 3 hour ride from college back home with a guy who'd just buried his father (after he was the first on the scene to find his father had shot himself in the head). That was a gruelling ride. I just did not know what to say..."Well, Bob, how was your break?...Say, sorry about your dad and all...Did you see the game?" It was a very, very long 3 hours, and I do not think I will ever recover. He claims I was there for him. I claim I was a boob. They say that funerals are for the living, but everyone I've been at as a grieving family member seemed more for the dead guy. Nothing anyone said really consoled me much.

Oh, and I'm no good at math, either, but that's another entry.

Boy, Girl, Canoe...

My son of six played this song over and over tonight:
Just a boy and a girl in a little canoe
With the moon shining all around
As he glides his paddle
You couldn't even hear a sound
And they talked and they talked
Till the moon grew dim
He said you better kiss me
Or get out and swim
So what you gonna do in a little canoe
With the moon shinin' all a--
Boats floatin all a--
Girls swimmin' all a rou-ou-ound!

I'd attach the audio if it weren't for copyright issues. Then you could endure what I did: that annoying high pitched girly chorus not unlike Kids' Bop (only slower and tamer).

Anyway, the reason for this post--it was so very cute that he liked the song. I remember when I got my first cassette tape, band named Bread, and I replayed the song "Aubrey" until the tape broke. I had that same stars-in-the-eyes look that my son has now. I, however, was THIRTEEN not SIX. Oh well, maybe I developed slowly.

Anyway, he was singing along (something he never does) until I noticed. When I asked him why the song was so great, he blushed. Eventually he told me it made him think of this girl he likes. She's been his crush for years. Now he's gone upstairs to make a bracelet to give her this weekend. Who am I to tell him a girl 10 years his senior will not want anything to do with him? (My wife is many years younger than me, after all!). I hate to see him get his heart broken, even bruised. I went through A LOT of that in my younger years. Nothing hurts worse, except the death of a loved one (and throw pets in there as loved ones, for I can still feel the pain from when my first dog died).

So, chalk one up for young love and the parent who tried to stay out of the way. We'll see how it goes. If ever I can arrange his little romantic moment, however, with a canoe and a lake, I'm going to intervene!

Sky Captain

My desktop image is a scene from Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow. The movie came out almost five years ago and I've watched it several times on DVD since then. While it's not the greatest movie EVER, it is uniquely appealing to me for several reasons.

For one, like Sin City, it's filmed entirely in front of a green screen. Only the actors are not CGI or otherwise processed. I need to do my homework on the movie to learn more of it's production story...I only know that the effect is dazzling. It resembles the 50's movies and pulp sci-fi it was patterned after. Stunning. The film is set somewhere around the 1930's, I think from the wardrobe and other clues (The wizard of oz was playing in Radio City Music Hall, and it came out in something like '39 or '40.)

I also like the film for it's something of a sci-fi adventure, featuring War of the Worlds robots, air planes that can also become submarines, mutated creations of a mad scientist, a giant rocket ship designed to serve as the Ark for a new era....you get the idea.

The cast is good, too. Angelina Jolie (in a minor role by any one else's measure, but to me even a cameo of hers MATTERS) is the captain of a fleet of British fortresses floating in the heavens. As Captain Francesca "Frankie" Cook, she is in command of an amphibious squadron. Gwyneth Paltrow plays Pollie Perkins, the Lois Lane-type reporter who's breaking the biggest story ever told. Both women have been involved with Jude Law's character, Joe "Sky Captain" Sullivan. This provides just enough of a love triangle to justify keeping both these beautiful women in play. Cook wears an eye patch and is just too butch. Perkins is too perky and just a little too blonde to be credible.

Lastly, I have a collection of 10 movies that matter to me. I cannot really put this one down, just for the eyecandy effects and period setting. It's pulpy, campy, and not likely to ever see a sequel, but it's just one of those movies!

Cashing in on Exoneration

Now, first let me say that I am all about fair play. I truly feel that people should not be imprisoned wrongfully, and if they are later proven innocent then let them out, for crying out loud. That, however, is the end of my good will.

There's a bizarre practice in Texas that pays DNA exonerees $80,000 for each year they were wrongfully imprisoned. I would make more money in prison than I do in my job now! Throw me in the Texas pokey for a few years, and I can pay for my kids' college...or like one cat who served 23 years in the slammer, maybe I'd buy a million dollar home!

It's no big surprise that most of these cash allocations are being squandered. What money management skills are reinforced behind reinforced concrete? How many cigarettes might one trade for a comic book? We might as well give money to monkeys.

Sure, I think it's too bad that innocent folk wasted away in prison, earning degrees, lifting weights, watching television, playing on the Internet. I sure think we should give them an apology card or maybe the governor should write them a nice letter. Why on earth should they be given $80,000 a year? Is that some reflection of their would-be earning potential? When they were jailed with no skills, no prospects, etc.? If we're going to play this silly compensation game, then I believe their exoneration cash out should reflect their true earning potential, the cost of living reflecting the years they were in the pen, and the local economy.

If we're going to start paying for mistakes, literally paying for mistakes like this, when and where would this end? It seems to be an infinite fun house mirror.

This stinks!

So, I heard on the radio that there is a bill being considered in Honolulu which would ban people with BO from public transportation. The story came from the Honolulu Advertiser, Tuesday. According to the proposal, this law would make it illegal to bring anything onto the bus, including clothing or animals which might emit an offensive smell. If convicted, a person could be fined up to $500, spend up to six months in jail, or be both fined and jailed.

So, what's "offensive"? Cheese? Sweat? Strong perfume? Who's to judge?

This question echoes every time legislation is introduced like this. What music is too loud? lyrics too coarse? What billboards or advertising creep too much into view?

It's bad form to legislate manners and good taste. If you ask me, let people work it out among themselves. Why can't we all get along?

Less laws. More common sense!

Dance Night!

I can remember when the very thought of dancing would knot up my stomach. I would completely skip outings with friends for fear of the dreaded Dance. In my mind, dancing could only be accomplished if drunk, and if ever I were to combine the two (drinking and dancing) it was always disastrous.

I was raised on a farm, where, if feeling really randy, one might tap their toe when listening to Hank Williams. When I was in grade school, I tried (too hard) to be cool. I had a polyester shirt, bell bottoms, and I even stole my mom's platform shoes. I went to a 7th grade dance and really tried hard to wow the crowd. At one point, a circle formed around me, everyone clapping and urging me on...I thought I was the next John Travolta. (Later, I realized they were laughing at me, that I was the spectacle!) Coming down off of that experience wounded me for life. I would not even attempt a line dance, a square dance, not even a folk dance. (I would probably have even shunned a lap dance, so against dancing had I become!) I sided with fundamentalists that felt dancing to be the gyrations of the devil himself--It had to be bad if I couldn't do it. I was completely inept at it, so very, very awful at dancing that I even hated dance music! (That explains my country music period, I guess.)

NOW I HAVE KIDS and they have taught me that dancing is just busting loose. Every Monday night we dance, uninhibited, for over an hour. It is pure joyous expression in body of soul. We might look funny to anyone from the outside, but we have some of the most excellent fun! I'll never satisfy a judge on "Dancing with the Stars;" heck, I cannot even please my own internal critic. The only way to dance is with abandon, thumbing one's nose and wiggling one's arse at anyone even the slightest bit judgmental.

Tonight, we delve into disco, and after that, some kid's music CD's.

Got my Goat

Well, we've gone and gotten a goat. The thing is, what's one pygmy goat good for? Kind of like an appendix, I think, or a salad fork. Cruel as it may sound, we're actually using her as a guinea pig; if we can keep her fat and happy all winter, we'll then expand to a Tribe, Trip, Drove, Herd, Flock of goats. (Makes me wonder why the collective term for goats is so varied and undefined, compared to a "murder of crows" or "pack of dogs.") Anyway, she's being spoiled, which is a far cry from her former home, where she shared a much smaller area with geese, chickens, and a pig! Right now she's top dog, well, next to our beagle. (She even climbs on her house and sleeps there, like the famous beagle, Snoopy.)

She came with the name Precious (gag) and one of my boys is renaming her Sunset (peculiar). I'd like to find a more suitable name for her, but I guess I will let anything serve for this goat, then think all winter of great goat names for the coming Tribe.

Goats creep me out in some ways. Just Friday we were at the petting zoo (soon to be *yawn* nothing we don't have at home*)...and my 2 year old was treated to a head butt that then bounced the back of his head against the corral, too. He was hurt, but more, emotionally wounded, for our goat would never (at least has never, yet, in this one week we've had her) do such a thing.

I am going to explore why they are an icon of dark magic. One of the most frightening images of my childhood was from a movie, Altered States, in which a goat head was flashed on screen so much in such a way that I walked out of the theatre! What's so "evil" about a goat, anyhow? I will find out!

Meanwhile, I'll go with my boys when they take Sunset on walks around the farm. I'll wonder how they'd react to future meat goats or milk goats...and I'll learn lots about tending goats as we go.

Steampunk

This is my current desktop background, one I love so much I may never change it. It's from one of my treasured new websites, Steampunk wallpaper. I've long been fond of the general motif of all things steampunky, but I had not put the term to my tastes. That is, I've always been a motorhead, fascinated with sprockets and gears, Jules Verne and HG Welles. I used to make these "installations" of gears and cranks. One filled a 4x8 sheet of plywood, featuring meat grinders, cherry pitters, egg beaters, and a whole host of gears in all stages of rust and patina. (I should never have let that thing go!) I've always been a fan of Rube Goldberg and all his overly complicated design ideas.

I was first turned this direction, to this terminology, from my experiences in SecondLife. See this blog, the Heliograph! If my avatar could, I'm sure he'd live there (New Babbage) forever.

I just didn't know I was a steam punk until I finally learned what the term means. One could always go to Wikipedia for a bastardized cut/paste perspective. I suggest, instead, clicking to Brass Goggles (directly to their FAQ page) a great (and long-running) blog on the subject. Or, for a history of steampunk related more to literature, consult Steampunkopedia.

As with most things, I come to this late. The surge and popularity are long past. That suits me fine, anyway, for I am enthused regardless. The art and imagery attracts me more than anything else.

Go here for a very thoughtful and in-depth discussion of steam punk ethic, literary genre and style. Go here for a manifesto that says it all!

Social Media Revolution

THIS video is an eye-opener. I showed it to some classes. I thought I was informed, but I am now so-much-more enlightened. Watch this video. Learn of the future. Are YOU connected? (I am woefully disengaged, at the moment.)

What's bugging me?

I may have written on this before, for I find them so very interesting--bugs. Technically they are "animals" in terms of classification: Animalia, Invertebrates, specifically Arthropoda (insects, spiders, crustaceans). Some claim if we were to identify all species in the tropical rain forests the ranks of Arthropoda would swell to over 10 million species! That's all good and well, but what I find so interesting about them includes:

They are so very, very diverse. Detroit could never generate so much variation on one chassis! If ever there was a reason to think that there might be a creator, it would well-be the creative genius behind all the clever designs showcased among insects. If I put my mind to it, I could likely find a new bug every day for a year, just on my farm.

They are built with intention. Insects have very particular niches in which they live, and they are built to endure the surroundings they habitate. (My office mate argues that they are found in the environs which best support them, but who's arguing chickens and eggs here.) I watched an episode of Earth recently in which they went into some very large, very deep caves and shared the wild life cycles w/n them. There were insects there w/o eyes who lived on bat guano. Their legs, wings, etc. were engineered to scale piles of bat poop and harvest food from it. Amazing.

They are a little creepy. I've met few people who do not cringe when a bug is crawling around on them, when they find a cockroach in the cupboard, or when they hear about dust mites in their pillow, bugs that thrive on the skin cells they leave in their laundry...fire worms. Insects have no qualms about being parasites or living in dung. That's part of why they are so prolific.

They are tough. I've encountered some that I simply cannot crush w/o a tool. (I'm not inclined to kill, kill, kill, but there are some ticks and such that I will kill on sight!) These typically tiny tough bugs are hard as a rock. Generally speaking, insects have a tough exoskeleton that protects them from harm, like armor. Entomologists claim that in the event of nuclear proliferation, cockroaches would still survive. We might die at an exposure of 800 rems, but a German cockroach can survive over 80,000 rems of exposure.

They are taken for granted. Always the champion of the underdog, I like to root for the little guy, and most insects are smaller in scale than us vertebrates. Most people, most of the time, simply consider insects to be "bugs" that are, well, bugging them. They may brush them away or reach for the insecticide on impulse. I'm always inclined to first check them out (and now my boys are growing up this same way, curious first).

My 4 year old received a bunch of bug toys for his birthday, including nets, magnifying glasses, little cages and playpens, even a vacuum to catch the bugs! I look forward to spending many hours with him just coming to appreciate these little things, these little, creepy-crawly things, in our own back yard.

FIXED

Too much information for you? Deal with it.
Well, any regular reader of this blog knows I am inclined to lament and regret, and this is surely a situation for just that: we are no longer in the business of baby-making.

Rejoice all ye champions of population control, common sense, reduced carbon footprint, etc.

I look across my desk at the family portrait, however, and sigh. *sigh* My wife and I make good kids, and though we have a bunch of them (4, for you new folk), it's killing me that we stopped there. Each of my children is so very unique, so very precious, so...cool. They have personalities that never-cease to astound me. They are independent little thinking machines that teach me daily. They seem--from my biased perspective--to be pretty smart.

I'd argue that we've been good for the collective gene pool, and it's sorrowful to have to stop now. I'd argue that our mad breeding has made the world a better place, and that there should be a nation of my offspring, like the sands of the--well, you get the idea. I like my kids, I think we're good folks, and I am having trouble adapting to this new hard line of "no more kids!"

I remember just a few years ago, I was baffled by my buddy who then had six kids and wanted more. I thought he was nuts. Now he and his wife are going to have a seventh, his oldest is something like 18. That means he's been doing diapers for almost two decades! What person in their right mind would do such a thing? A parent who really likes parenting--someone like me, now-a-days.

Heck, I can still remember not wanting ANY KIDS. I held that line for 20 years into my breeding years. According to a recent release, it's going to cost contemporary parents about $200 grand per child to bring their kid through age 17! Gadzooks! Who could AFFORD kids anymore?

On the other hand, when you feel the love, know the joy, reflect and bask regularly in all-things parenting, it's easy to come full-circle like I have, to wonder how one could NOT afford it, or how one might afford to live w/o parenting.

I know, I know, I'm still only 7 years into it. I've had a non-stop stream of people wagging their heads and forewarning me of how terrible it is yet to get. People laugh at me that my youngest will be graduating when I'm in my mid-sixties. Evil is coming, I am told.

I say, bring it.

I spoke briefly with my wife about becoming barren, and she told me that the kids we have provide an infinite opportunity to love and be loved. (She also said, eventually, we could always adopt!)

I know all that, too...but it does not make this new era any easier.