<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077</id><updated>2012-01-22T22:29:22.374-05:00</updated><category term='buddhism'/><category term='weightlifting parenting'/><category term='nyc dvr parenting'/><category term='finances'/><category term='depression marriage cognitive skills'/><category term='faith depression men'/><category term='tragedy depression'/><category term='beach'/><category term='Parenting'/><category term='midlife'/><category term='raising teens depression parenting'/><category term='cadets'/><category term='raising teens'/><category term='marriage'/><category term='fairs'/><category term='parenting teens depression father'/><category term='broken heart'/><category term='winter'/><category term='mental health'/><category term='forgiveness'/><category term='finances kids parenting teens'/><category term='Teens'/><category term='milsim'/><category term='parenting teens'/><category term='snowmobiling'/><category term='raising teens family'/><category term='depression teens'/><category term='existentialism'/><category term='meditation'/><category term='anxiety'/><category term='7 habits'/><category term='middle age'/><category term='cell phones'/><category term='taxes'/><category term='flirtation'/><category term='wife grateful'/><category term='spring'/><category term='family'/><category term='healing depression'/><category term='adolescents'/><category term='depression family teens'/><category term='tolerance'/><category term='sex and love'/><category term='pets'/><category term='troubled teens'/><category term='veterans'/><category term='kids teens parenting depression volunteer cadets'/><category term='new england'/><category term='childrens home'/><category term='therapy'/><category term='incarceration'/><category term='TV'/><category term='ropes course'/><category term='antidepressant'/><category term='Young love'/><category term='None'/><category term='God'/><category term='work television movies lazy depression'/><category term='alcohol retirement cognitive'/><category term='parenting teens depression'/><category term='troubled kids'/><category term='parenting depression teens'/><category term='wife'/><category term='Vets'/><category term='kids teens parenting'/><category term='depression'/><category term='Goals'/><category term='men breasts superficial'/><category term='drinking'/><category term='cooking parenting teens'/><category term='at risk teens'/><category term='teenagers'/><category term='haiku'/><category term='airsoft'/><category term='cold'/><category term='dark movies'/><category term='patience'/><category term='Fathers and sons'/><category term='family time'/><category term='volunteering'/><category term='kayaking'/><category term='poetry'/><category term='snow pets'/><category term='broadway play'/><category term='snowboarding'/><category term='coffee'/><category term='snowshoeing'/><category term='volunteerism'/><category term='kids teens parenting depression'/><category term='blogging'/><category term='marriage television depression'/><category term='marines'/><category term='writing'/><category term='marriage parenting midlife'/><category term='kids teens parenting depression add adhd'/><category term='tragic accident'/><title type='text'>Finding David</title><subtitle type='html'>Middle-aged, married  with 2 kids but feels like he's still 17...  Mostly dark musings and commentary on life.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>465</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5178635957042696390</id><published>2012-01-09T08:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T08:11:12.536-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Seasonal Affect Disorder?</title><content type='html'>It is a cold grey day in the town square today . Coffee and a muffin at the cafe has done little to improve my melancholy disposition.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not really interested in writing these days...&amp;nbsp; I suppose that is why I must.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D and I had a good day yesterday.&amp;nbsp; We took A for a walk on the beach and talked through the events of the past week or so.&amp;nbsp; It has become clear to me that while we may be facing some midlife hormonal issues with D, I also contribute to the caustic atmosphere with my rancorous nature.&amp;nbsp; She is simply less tolerant of my bullshit.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been experiencing greater and greater loss of memory.&amp;nbsp; I have always had a problem with retrieving information from my dysfunctional brain, but now I am forgetting really basic knowledge such as friends names.&amp;nbsp; I have to focus on exercises that rebuild my broken synapses and failing&amp;nbsp;hippocampus. Writing will certainly help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5178635957042696390?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5178635957042696390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5178635957042696390' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5178635957042696390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5178635957042696390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2012/01/seasonal-affect-disorder.html' title='Seasonal Affect Disorder?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-1327522610936442550</id><published>2012-01-06T08:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-06T08:34:54.996-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's argue some more</title><content type='html'>It's lightly snowing in the town square today.&amp;nbsp; We have only had one storm this year and that was back in October.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D and I are in the middle of a very serious, emotionally charged argument, yet I am amazingly calm.&amp;nbsp; I am pretty frustrated with her at this point though.&amp;nbsp; I feel like I am constantly walking on eggshells around her and my stomach is often in a knot.&amp;nbsp; I am not sure if we are going to survive this round.&amp;nbsp; I have not considered that possibility for a long time, but she seems unable to resolve some trust issues that are completely undeserved and I am at a loss for&amp;nbsp; how to move forward.&amp;nbsp; I am just tired of having to defend myself against her unwarranted paranoia.&amp;nbsp; If we do split up, I have no interest in being with anyone else.&amp;nbsp; I think I would be happier alone.&amp;nbsp; It is so amazing that we are suddenly at this place when we were closer then ever before.&amp;nbsp; Once again I have learned the lesson to not let myself be vulnerable. &amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-1327522610936442550?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/1327522610936442550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=1327522610936442550' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1327522610936442550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1327522610936442550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2012/01/lets-argue-some-more.html' title='Let&apos;s argue some more'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8041127366344579661</id><published>2012-01-03T08:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-03T08:02:23.180-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Resolutions?  Not really...</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I embarked on what I hope will be a life changing journey.&amp;nbsp; I vowed to think positive, work harder/smarter and not let the little stuff get me down.&amp;nbsp; I made a sizable dent in my thank you cards (from my 50th birthday party a month ago) and avoided Clickerville altogether.&amp;nbsp; I am also determined to resolve my financial woes and am once again thinking big.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A has become part of our family and spends most weekends with us and sometimes stays with us during the week.&amp;nbsp; She has had a profound impact on D and I, and we on her.&amp;nbsp; She is no longer going into the Marines but has applied to multiple colleges instead.&amp;nbsp; At my behest, she took here SAT's a second time and improved her score significantly.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D and the boys are doing well.&amp;nbsp; D continues to lose weight and improve her appearance.&amp;nbsp; J is&amp;nbsp; working as a landscaper but unfortunately does not get paid if it doesn't snow.&amp;nbsp; B is doing well at school and maintains a relationship with his girlfriend S.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8041127366344579661?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8041127366344579661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8041127366344579661' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8041127366344579661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8041127366344579661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2012/01/resolutions-not-really.html' title='Resolutions?  Not really...'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-4315399352882619129</id><published>2011-12-05T07:22:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T07:54:44.573-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I want...</title><content type='html'>Attachment is a powerful motivator.&amp;nbsp; Desire is one of the most insidious forms of attachment.&amp;nbsp; She creeps deep into our soul, drawing us towards that which fails to satisfy, ultimately leaving a trail of regret and disappointment in her path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-4315399352882619129?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/4315399352882619129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=4315399352882619129' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4315399352882619129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4315399352882619129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-want.html' title='I want...'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8838125468866771449</id><published>2011-10-03T07:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-03T07:54:21.283-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lucky Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--[if gte mso 9]&gt;&lt;xml&gt; 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&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I am not completely sure why God put A in ourpath,&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;but I am once again in awe of yourability to accept me and my unconventional, sometimes burdensome ways.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;I truly love you,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dirk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8838125468866771449?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8838125468866771449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8838125468866771449' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8838125468866771449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8838125468866771449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/10/lucky-me.html' title='Lucky Me'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5230225880512358970</id><published>2011-08-02T16:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-02T16:17:57.581-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Lester Burnham's at the lake.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I am writing this post while sitting at the cafe on the causeway up at the lake.&amp;nbsp; It is a beautiful day, but I am unfortunately working on my boat today instead of enjoying the lake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of the cadets came up to visit over the weekend and they had a fabulous time boarding, tubing and snorkeling.&amp;nbsp; My young protege was one of the visitors and it was really nice to spend some time with her.&amp;nbsp; I am getting a fair amount of flack from my family because of my relationship with her, but I am confident in my ability to maintain a healthy relationship.&amp;nbsp; My family trusts me, but are concerned about the risks inherent in this type of relationship.&amp;nbsp; I actually share some of those concerns as well.&amp;nbsp; I think it is good that "A" spends time with the family so they can get to know her and realize she is not a threat.&amp;nbsp; I am also hopeful that the better A knows D, the less likely she will get the wrong idea about the type of relationship we have.&amp;nbsp; I have had/have similar mentoring relationships with adolescent males but this is my first female.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My relationship with A has has me thinking about my relationship with D.&amp;nbsp; A and I can talk for hours but D and I do not talk much.&amp;nbsp; I am determined to find ways to make my conversations with D more frequent and interesting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5230225880512358970?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5230225880512358970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5230225880512358970' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5230225880512358970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5230225880512358970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/08/lester-burnhams-at-lake.html' title='Lester Burnham&apos;s at the lake.'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-7068567384946423928</id><published>2011-07-25T08:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-25T08:24:48.859-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Siren Songs Be Damned!</title><content type='html'>This past weekend was absofuckinglutely fabulous.&amp;nbsp; I took the cadet group up to my friends property in the White Mountains and we went for an eight mile hike and had a day of swimming and BBQ.&amp;nbsp; The kids were well behaved and the adults were too.&amp;nbsp; We had one cadet in particular that stands out. He had decided not to participate in the hike but another member of the staff convinced him otherwise.&amp;nbsp; He is overweight and out of shape but the staff member stayed with him and the young man completed the difficult eight mile trek.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another highlight of my weekend was snorkeling with the kids.&amp;nbsp; There was two in particular that stand out.&amp;nbsp; One has expressed desire to become a Navy seal and he was europhoric after snorkeling amongst the sea weeds and schools of fish.&amp;nbsp; When he thanked me I could feel the gratitude emanating from his soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My other young snorkeling companion was my seventeen year old &lt;span class="st"&gt;protégé.&amp;nbsp; She is very bright and quickly grasped the technique of rising and diving.&amp;nbsp; I spent most of the time leading her but the few times she surged ahead I could not help but admire her beauty.&amp;nbsp; I am really wrestling with my feelings for her but I am absolutely confident that I will face down this challenge and emerge victorious over her unintentional siren songs.&amp;nbsp; I feel that this is a challenge I must face down so that I can continue to work with female adolescents without succumbing to the primal urges that accompany that work.&amp;nbsp; I have grown and matured so much over this past year and there will be no better time to put this weakness behind me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-7068567384946423928?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/7068567384946423928/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=7068567384946423928' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7068567384946423928'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7068567384946423928'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/07/siren-songs-be-damned.html' title='Siren Songs Be Damned!'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5589248018615601597</id><published>2011-07-20T07:57:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-20T07:57:18.456-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a daughter?</title><content type='html'>Monday night we had an extended version of the men's therapy group wherein we all shared the sordid details of our past.&amp;nbsp; I won...&amp;nbsp; I definitely have had the most tragic life thus far.&amp;nbsp; A close second was a man who had a abusive alcoholic father that left when he was four.&amp;nbsp; We are all a pretty fucked up bunch though.&amp;nbsp; Father issues everywhere...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is, I am definitely the happiest man in the group (currently).&amp;nbsp; Seems ironic...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am becoming very close to the young cadet I am mentoring, perhaps too close.&amp;nbsp; I feel pretty safe but it is like skiing right to the edge of your ability and then pushing just a little more.&amp;nbsp; At some point I have to say the phrase "I view you as I would my own daughter" to her.&amp;nbsp; I don't have an issue with saying that, but I am fearful that she actually views our relationship in a slightly different light and I might push her away.&amp;nbsp; However, I still&amp;nbsp; have to say it.&amp;nbsp; I have to set the boundaries to preserve what is truly important to me; most importantly, my wonderful wife.&amp;nbsp; I owe her that.&amp;nbsp; Ego is such a powerful thing though.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5589248018615601597?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5589248018615601597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5589248018615601597' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5589248018615601597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5589248018615601597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/07/i-have-daughter.html' title='I have a daughter?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-6329378097530929530</id><published>2011-07-11T07:41:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-11T07:41:12.199-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another busy weekend</title><content type='html'>My weekend started at 4:00 AM Saturday when a tiny voice pierced my sleep.&amp;nbsp; "Mr. Early....&amp;nbsp; Are you awake?"&amp;nbsp; It belonged to B's girlfriend and she and I were about to head up to the White Mountains to watch B's first triathlon.&amp;nbsp; Our ride up was filled with pleasant conversation and I enjoyed talking with her.&amp;nbsp; B did very well at the triathlon, taking second place in his age group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there I was off to a family reunion for D's family at Lake Winnipesaukee.&amp;nbsp; It was nice to catch up with family I have not seen in a while.&amp;nbsp; I particularly enjoyed snorkeling with my niece and her friend as well as playing trucks on the beach with my nephew's young son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night, D and I went to a friends house near Lake Winnipesaukee.&amp;nbsp; My friend is also an officer at the&amp;nbsp; cadet group and we planned to inspect field gear that was stored at his house including backpacks and tents in preparation for an upcoming encampment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been doing exceptionally well from an emotional perspective and I am not even&amp;nbsp; worried about when my mood will change.&amp;nbsp; Life is good at this moment :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-6329378097530929530?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/6329378097530929530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=6329378097530929530' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6329378097530929530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6329378097530929530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/07/another-busy-weekend.html' title='Another busy weekend'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8712590275182539489</id><published>2011-07-05T07:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-05T07:39:55.697-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 4th!</title><content type='html'>This past weekend was a short one compared with most people as I had to work yesterday.&amp;nbsp; However with the unemployment&amp;nbsp; rate at 9% or better, I am grateful to be working.&amp;nbsp; Saturday we worked around the house and Sunday we went up to my in-laws camp for some wake-boarding.&amp;nbsp; Both boys along with their girlfriends joined us at the lake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been mentoring a young lady from the cadet program and we have been communicating on a daily basis.&amp;nbsp; She was raised in the inner-city and has experienced&amp;nbsp; much more pain and hardship in her short 17 years then many would experience in an entire lifetime.&amp;nbsp; I view her as I would my own daughter (for the most part) but I am aware that she could develop more romantic feelings towards me.&amp;nbsp; I have been very careful to keep our conversations free of any hint of intimacy and she has not indicated anything other then an interest in a fatherly figure.&amp;nbsp; She is traveling abroad for the next few weeks with no access to phone or email and I would be less then honest if I didn't say that I will miss our daily exchange.&amp;nbsp; She has proved to be a source of joy for me and I look forward to her return&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8712590275182539489?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8712590275182539489/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8712590275182539489' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8712590275182539489'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8712590275182539489'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/07/happy-4th.html' title='Happy 4th!'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-4939882182266239752</id><published>2011-06-30T08:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-30T08:23:50.593-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='healing depression'/><title type='text'>Life is pretty damn good.... really!</title><content type='html'>It has been a while since my last post....&amp;nbsp; sorry.&amp;nbsp; I have been spending my coffee shop time writing my first short story.&amp;nbsp; The circumstances of my life have changed dramatically and I can honestly say that I am happy today.&amp;nbsp; That's right... happy.&amp;nbsp; This is the first time I have emerged from a depression without the assistance of medication.&amp;nbsp; This morning I drove to the coffee shop in my sons little sportscar with the sunroof open and John Mayer blaring from Pandora.&amp;nbsp; I felt joy in my heart and wore a smile on my face as I passed under the trees and I actually noticed how beautiful the morning is.&amp;nbsp; So what has changed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made my first movie (and made a bunch of new friends in the process)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote my first short story which received excellent reviews&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am very involved in the cadet program&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am mentoring a young lady&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B received his offer letter and I will be paying $20,000 LESS for tuition this year&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I joined a mens therapy group and I have attended two sessions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had two individual&amp;nbsp; sessions with a therapist I really like&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J is working&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D is happy (and going to the gym losing 25 lbs)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B continues to excel at pretty much&amp;nbsp; everything&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During our last mens group meeting everyone had to update the group on what was happening in their life.&amp;nbsp; As I listened to a massive amount&amp;nbsp; of misery (mostly related to jobs and wives) I felt strangely out of place.&amp;nbsp; When it came to my turn I had to reach into the past to pull out some darkness as I did not want to be the one happy guy amongst a bunch of very sad men.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-4939882182266239752?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/4939882182266239752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=4939882182266239752' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4939882182266239752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4939882182266239752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/06/life-is-pretty-damn-good-really.html' title='Life is pretty damn good.... really!'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-1895718116213050403</id><published>2011-06-14T21:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T21:45:04.637-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>The wireless connection has been down at the coffee shop so it has been difficult to update my blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is pretty damned good right now -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am pretty happy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family is great&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just made twenty or so friends while filming a movie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I start with a mens group next week&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found a great therapist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a moderate interest in not dying&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More later...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-1895718116213050403?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/1895718116213050403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=1895718116213050403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1895718116213050403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1895718116213050403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/06/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8021864133762123629</id><published>2011-06-03T11:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T11:28:11.255-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Misery loves company</title><content type='html'>Sometimes, I wish my life was as miserable as I feel...&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8021864133762123629?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8021864133762123629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8021864133762123629' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8021864133762123629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8021864133762123629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/06/misery-loves-company.html' title='Misery loves company'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-2639056239840763065</id><published>2011-05-23T08:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-23T08:39:10.062-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Camping?</title><content type='html'>I write this post from my in-laws somewhat plush, RV trailer located in the lakes region of central NH.&amp;nbsp; I am drinking Starbucks INSTANT coffee and we have no TV or Internet... and I like it.&amp;nbsp; It's no Walden pond, but it feels really nice to be away from the house.&amp;nbsp; We have been coming up for the past few weekends to prepare the trailer for the arrival of D's elderly parents.&amp;nbsp; Generally we help them open it, but decided to do it ourselves this year to spare them the effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I took the cadet group for a hike south of Boston.&amp;nbsp; We had a great day and&amp;nbsp; I thoroughly enjoyed watching them navigate with map and compass using the skills that I taught them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-2639056239840763065?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/2639056239840763065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=2639056239840763065' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2639056239840763065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2639056239840763065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/05/camping.html' title='Camping?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-6556217396133882244</id><published>2011-05-20T08:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T08:09:10.499-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>Write me in</title><content type='html'>Last night I went to my first writers group meeting.&amp;nbsp; The introductions went something like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Hello, my name is Ralph and I have been writing for 20 years as a reporter and columnist among other things.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;My name is Liz and I just published my third book!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;My name is Bob and I just retired after 40 years as a newspaper and magazine editor. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;My name is Dirk and I have been writing for three months...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eh, everyone laughed.&amp;nbsp; The truth&amp;nbsp; is, most of the members are new and everyone is very nice.&amp;nbsp; I look forward to the next meeting.&amp;nbsp; I was selected to present a writing at the next gathering and decided that I would not base the character on my life, but write something completely new.&amp;nbsp; Last night a wrote a page and it was a struggle!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-6556217396133882244?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/6556217396133882244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=6556217396133882244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6556217396133882244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6556217396133882244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/05/write-me-in.html' title='Write me in'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-7207960497044329835</id><published>2011-05-18T08:36:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-18T10:39:23.423-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Mugs - Part VIII</title><content type='html'>“Well, aren’t you a little puritan,” Micayla says leaning back in her chair.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Look, I am just a simple man, from a small town in the back woods of Maine.&amp;nbsp; I like my truck with big tires, my boat with a fast engine and my woman with....”&amp;nbsp; I trail off.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Tits and a pussy?” Micayla says lifting her brow and displaying a sardonic grin.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yeah, tits and a pussy.&amp;nbsp; THAT'S what I like”.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Let me guess...&amp;nbsp; You like big tits, right?” She sneers at me.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Actually, I like firm tits.”&amp;nbsp; I smile back at her.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Well then, you will like these,”&amp;nbsp; she says placing her hands under her apple-sized breasts.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My face flushes and I quickly glance around the coffee shop.&amp;nbsp; Confident no one has seen Micayla’s provocative gesture, I stare out the front window while anxiously fidgeting with my hands.&amp;nbsp; Turning back to Micayla I say “Are they..... uh.... real?”&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Real?" Micayla laughs loudly throwing her head back and banging her hand on the table "Real?" she says again.&amp;nbsp; "Define real?" She continues to laugh obviously enjoying my discomfort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know what I mean." I say as I feel my face turns red. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“They are six thousand dollars worth of real,”&amp;nbsp; she replies proudly.&amp;nbsp; She hesitates for a moment studying my face.&amp;nbsp; “You want to touch them, don’t you?”&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“No... no, not at all,” I snap at her.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Micayla laughs as she stares at me intently leaning her chair back.&amp;nbsp; Suddenly she leans in towards me so her face is six inches away from mine.&amp;nbsp; “It doesn’t make you gay you know.”&amp;nbsp; She smiles at me and leans back.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sit there saying nothing.&amp;nbsp; My head is swirling with a myriad of thoughts and emotions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-7207960497044329835?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/7207960497044329835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=7207960497044329835' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7207960497044329835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7207960497044329835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/05/nice-mugs-part-vii_18.html' title='Nice Mugs - Part VIII'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3537987113774552654</id><published>2011-05-17T09:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T09:31:13.621-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Making Movies!</title><content type='html'>Monday started out really rough, but progressively improved throughout the day.&amp;nbsp; I had no motivation&amp;nbsp; to work; most of the morning I focused on my writing instead.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 5:00, I met with a psychologist to discuss joining a men's therapy group he leads.&amp;nbsp; He considers me a good fit and the group starts in June.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I headed home from there as my boys were cooking dinner for me and D in celebration of our 24th wedding anniversary.&amp;nbsp; I was in a great mood and dinner was fabulous.&amp;nbsp; I spent the night writing while watching a movie with the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Checking my email later, I discovered that a local film producer invited me to help him produce a short film as part of the 48 Hour Film contest!&amp;nbsp; I was up until 3 AM thinking about scripts, but I am definitely a happy camper today!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3537987113774552654?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3537987113774552654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3537987113774552654' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3537987113774552654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3537987113774552654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/05/making-movies.html' title='Making Movies!'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-2799187127629491939</id><published>2011-05-16T23:18:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-17T02:53:07.871-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Mugs Part VII</title><content type='html'>&lt;span id="internal-source-marker_0.9669053387030921" style="background-color: transparent; color: white; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"&gt;“You  know, I actually feel a bit relieved.” I said. &amp;nbsp;“The truth is, I am not  really a “pick ‘em up” kinda guy. &amp;nbsp;When you asked me to sit down, I was  a bit nervous about where this was going to go. &amp;nbsp;I am truly in love  with my wife but, as you know, I have a wandering eye. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;“Wow! &amp;nbsp;You have  a really tough life Dirk”. Micayla looked at me sarcastically. &amp;nbsp;"Sorry,  my petty little issues must seem trivial to you". &amp;nbsp;Micayla looked out  the front window. &amp;nbsp;"No, not trivial. &amp;nbsp;Just normal. &amp;nbsp;My issues, on the  other hand..." She drifted off. &amp;nbsp;"What was the end result of your  lawsuit?" I asked. &amp;nbsp;"The judge said that I was anatomically a man, so I  would have to use the male restroom. &amp;nbsp;But after a few beatings at the  hands of the morally superior high school boys, I resorted to using the  bathroom in the nurses office." &amp;nbsp;Micalya looked down at her cup.  &amp;nbsp;“Micalya.” &amp;nbsp;She looked up into my eyes. &amp;nbsp;“I am sorry that happened to  you.” &amp;nbsp;“Eh, it’s no big deal. &amp;nbsp;That which does not kill us...” &amp;nbsp;“So, do  you have a... a boyfriend?” &amp;nbsp;“Why, are you interested?” Her eyes  twinkled with delight. &amp;nbsp;“Sorry, I am married. &amp;nbsp;Otherwise...” I said  pointing at my ring. &amp;nbsp;“Damn, all the good guys are either gay or taken”  &amp;nbsp;“Aren’t you gay?” I asked. “Well, I guess if you want to get all  technical about it. &amp;nbsp;Actually, if you really must know, I play for both  teams.” &amp;nbsp;“Really? &amp;nbsp;Bow chica bow wow.” &amp;nbsp;“Yeah, some of the surplus  equipment actually comes in handy.” &amp;nbsp;“Yuck! &amp;nbsp;To much information.” I  hold up my hands feigning disgust. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-2799187127629491939?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/2799187127629491939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=2799187127629491939' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2799187127629491939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2799187127629491939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/05/nice-mugs-part-vii.html' title='Nice Mugs Part VII'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5840552883160357997</id><published>2011-05-16T11:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-16T11:09:25.226-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Are we happy?</title><content type='html'>Somewhere inside of me, there is a happy man seeking liberation.&amp;nbsp; I have met this man on occasion, but I have not seen him in a long time.&amp;nbsp; I do most of the things that generally precede his appearance; exercise, act selflessly, take my vitamins, minimize stress and live a life that reflects my belief system.&amp;nbsp; But lately, he has been reclusive.&amp;nbsp; I met this man once when he was a young boy.&amp;nbsp; We met in a meadow filled with beautiful wildflowers that undulated in the warm breeze under a bright yellow sun.&amp;nbsp; Sparrows and meadowlarks whirled and turned in an aerial display above the gentle hills.&amp;nbsp; A crystal clear brook meandered through the field, babbling as it fell from rock to pool.&amp;nbsp; Tall, snow-capped mountains pierced the sky in the distance.&amp;nbsp; I watched the child as he ran through the field, brushing past colorful posies and sunflowers, happily laughing as he went, apparently without a care in the world.&amp;nbsp; I wondered, how can that be?&amp;nbsp; I was confused and bewildered as I had not expected this young person to be so happy.&amp;nbsp; I walked through the field and the boy approached me.&amp;nbsp; "Hello." he said in a clear bright voice.&amp;nbsp; He looks to be about six years old with bright blue eyes and longish blond hair.&amp;nbsp; "Hello." I replied.&amp;nbsp; "What is your name?" he asked.&amp;nbsp; "Dirk" I said.&amp;nbsp; "Hey, that's my name!" he replied with a broad smile.&amp;nbsp; "Yes."&amp;nbsp; I smiled back looking down at the young boy.&amp;nbsp; "It is a beautiful day." he said looking up at me with sparkling eyes.&amp;nbsp; "Yes, it is." I replied lifting my face to the sun.&amp;nbsp; "Well, it was nice to meet you Sir." said the boy extending his hand and looking up at my face.&amp;nbsp; "It was nice to meet you Dirk." I replied grasping his hand with a firm, but gentle grip.&amp;nbsp; "I have to go now." he said with a questioning look on his face.&amp;nbsp; "I know." I watched him as he ran off, zigzagging through the tall grass and wind-blown flowers without any apparent destination, eventually fading into the vibrant colors of the field.&amp;nbsp; I turned and began walking back.&amp;nbsp; "...three, two, one and your back with us now Dirk".&amp;nbsp; I opened my eyes and looked around the office.&amp;nbsp; The antique clock ticked loudly on the mantle as I attempted to get my bearings.&amp;nbsp; "How do you feel Dirk?"&amp;nbsp; I turned and my gaze rested on the middle-aged man seated across from me.&amp;nbsp; He had a notebook on his lap and a concerned look on his face.&amp;nbsp; "I met him." I said as my eyes began to well up.&amp;nbsp; He handed me a box of tissues which a waved away and instead rubbed at my eyes with my fists chocking back the tears.&amp;nbsp; "He was happy." I said haltingly.&amp;nbsp; "I don't understand.&amp;nbsp; I don't ever remember him being happy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5840552883160357997?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5840552883160357997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5840552883160357997' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5840552883160357997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5840552883160357997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/05/are-we-happy.html' title='Are we happy?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-7433293119565372319</id><published>2011-05-09T07:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T07:50:43.221-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mothers Day.... D.</title><content type='html'>The wind is out of the north this morning making for a chilly jeep ride into town this morning.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday I worked all day and yesterday I split and stacked a cord of wood with some help from B who was home for Mothers Day.&amp;nbsp; D was pleasantly surprised when B knocked on the door at 7 AM carrying a plate of eggs and toast&amp;nbsp; for her.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching B express his love for his Mom made me think about my mother.&amp;nbsp; I don't recall any details of celebrating Mothers Day with her, although I suspect I probably did.&amp;nbsp; But I would have done so out of sense of duty, not love.&amp;nbsp; When I think of my Mom, what come to mind are clinical terms that describe our relationship including failure to bond, abuse and abandonment.&amp;nbsp; I think that this condition, what some call "insecure attachment disorder" are&amp;nbsp; likely at the root of my many emotional challenges.&amp;nbsp; Perhaps there is some therapy that may address some of these issues.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-7433293119565372319?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/7433293119565372319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=7433293119565372319' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7433293119565372319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7433293119565372319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/05/happy-mothers-day-d.html' title='Happy Mothers Day.... D.'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-4626956425486642799</id><published>2011-05-07T08:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-07T08:43:32.436-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A mixed bag</title><content type='html'>Wednesday I picked up my sister and brought her back to her apartment.&amp;nbsp; She is actually doing surprisingly well.&amp;nbsp; I am checking in with her daily now and hopefully we can head off any returns to the psych ward.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am actually doing a bit better myself.&amp;nbsp; Fuck the IRS...&amp;nbsp; I will figure this shit out somehow.&amp;nbsp; I am getting a bit of my focus back so perhaps I can rally myself to actually find some new business and make even MORE money&amp;nbsp; so I can pay even MORE taxes...&amp;nbsp; Fuck me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J decided that mud truck racing was more important that than being home for Mothers Day.&amp;nbsp; He did get her a card and gift but I am becoming very suspicious of the source of his cash, especially when he pays me his snowmobile payment in crisp $100 bills.&amp;nbsp; When I asked him where he got the money, he said he saved it.&amp;nbsp; Yeah, bullshit.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp; predict a battle in the very near future.&amp;nbsp; I am not taking money that he did not earn honestly.&amp;nbsp; I hope I am wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I drove all the way to B's college to pick him up in the jeep so that he could come home and get his car as he plans to surprise his mom tomorrow morning with breakfast in bed.&amp;nbsp; What a good boy...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-4626956425486642799?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/4626956425486642799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=4626956425486642799' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4626956425486642799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4626956425486642799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/05/mixed-bag.html' title='A mixed bag'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-9039707200069748976</id><published>2011-04-29T07:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-29T07:42:49.002-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Off to the Loonie Bin!</title><content type='html'>My sister is back in the psychiatric hospital.&amp;nbsp; I think I might just join her.&amp;nbsp; It would be nice to just kick back in my room and do nothing all day.&amp;nbsp; The reality is that I have been moderately depressed for about six months now.&amp;nbsp; I refuse to take medication but I did break down and call my therapist.&amp;nbsp; I am definitely addicted to TV and laziness and I need to shake myself free from those shackles.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; "Hello, my name is Dirk Smiley and I am a clickerholic".&amp;nbsp; Ok, I said it.&amp;nbsp; Now what the fuck do I do about it.&amp;nbsp; I am tempted to just shut off the damn cable.&amp;nbsp; But I am stronger than that.&amp;nbsp; I should be able to control myself and act more responsibly.&amp;nbsp; Tonight D has her book club so at least I will not be wasting this evening watching reruns of Deadliest Catch.&amp;nbsp; Instead, I will work a long day so I can have the whole weekend to work on my jeep and yard chores.&amp;nbsp; Maybe I will even go kayaking with D.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-9039707200069748976?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/9039707200069748976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=9039707200069748976' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/9039707200069748976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/9039707200069748976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/04/off-to-loonie-bin.html' title='Off to the Loonie Bin!'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-55584137817379000</id><published>2011-04-21T07:53:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-22T08:18:27.601-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Wish Granted!</title><content type='html'>It is a beautiful, sunny day in the town square today.&amp;nbsp; Even though the thermometer displayed 36 degrees this morning, I drove my jeep into town for the first time in quite a while.&amp;nbsp; The only problem is that my fingers aren't working so well for&amp;nbsp; typing :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B is home from college and his new girlfriend is coming to spend a couple of days with us.&amp;nbsp; She is a sweet girl and I look forward to getting to know&amp;nbsp; here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am in a better mood today and hopefully I can make some headway on my dire financial situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There will be a new update to "Nice Mugs!" soon.&amp;nbsp; I have just hit a bit of a writers block. :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-55584137817379000?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/55584137817379000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=55584137817379000' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/55584137817379000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/55584137817379000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/04/wish-granted.html' title='Wish Granted!'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8175432272421032951</id><published>2011-04-20T07:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T07:25:50.060-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Here comes the sun.... NOT!</title><content type='html'>As you know, I am not generally swayed emotionally by the weather.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; However, where the fuck is the Sun!&amp;nbsp; This nasty New England weather is not helping my mood.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8175432272421032951?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8175432272421032951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8175432272421032951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8175432272421032951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8175432272421032951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/04/here-comes-sun-not.html' title='Here comes the sun.... NOT!'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-6590530752078223538</id><published>2011-04-18T21:54:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T21:54:58.757-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Mugs - Part VI</title><content type='html'>“So, you think&amp;nbsp; I’m attractive?” Micayla looked down at her half-eaten biscotti.&amp;nbsp; “Absolutely” I replied.&amp;nbsp; “I saw you giving me the once-over.”&amp;nbsp; She&amp;nbsp; laughed.&amp;nbsp; “Was I that obvious?”&amp;nbsp; “Absolutely.” She chuckled.&amp;nbsp; “Don’t worry...&amp;nbsp; I don’t mind.&amp;nbsp; Men are made to feel guilty for looking at woman when they are simply engaged in the process of natural selection.”&amp;nbsp; She grinned at me.&amp;nbsp; Micayla placed her mug to her lips taking a deep drink of her coffee.&amp;nbsp; I stared at her slender neck and watched her Adams apple moving up and down.&amp;nbsp; She exhaled, set her mug down on the table and looked at my face.&amp;nbsp; However, I was still looking at her throat and then slowly, I drew my eyebrows down and my eyes began to darken.&amp;nbsp; A grimace spread across my face, my shoulders stiffened and I looked up towards Micayla’s eyes.&amp;nbsp; Noticing the sudden change in my disposition, Micayla sat up straight and appeared very nervous holding her mug with both hands.&amp;nbsp; “Mikey?” I said tersely through pursed lips.&amp;nbsp; “What?” She looked defensive and her eyes began to scan the room.&amp;nbsp; “Short for Michael I presume?”&amp;nbsp; She took in a deep breath and once again took a swallow of her coffee.&amp;nbsp; Suddenly, she relaxed and turning towards me said “Yeah, Michael”.&amp;nbsp; “You were in the paper.”&amp;nbsp; I said quietly.&amp;nbsp; “Something about using the girls room at the High School” a few years back.&amp;nbsp; “Yep.&amp;nbsp; Fucking assholes expected me to piss in the boys room.”&amp;nbsp; She leaned back in her chair, suddenly very confident, one arm across the back of her seat looking over my shoulder out the front window.&amp;nbsp; Her right leg, crossed across the left, bounced up and down in rhythm with the soft music playing in the background.&amp;nbsp; “What the fuck.”&amp;nbsp; I slumped back in my chair and pushed it away from the table ever so slightly.&amp;nbsp; “Well, it was nice talking with you Mr. Smiley.&amp;nbsp; Have a great life!”&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; “Yeah” I mumbled.&amp;nbsp; My mind was racing and I could feel my heart beating rapidly against my chest, pumping blood to my flushed face.&amp;nbsp; I began get up from the chair and as I looked towards Micalya with a look of disgust, I could see her eyes welling up with moisture.&amp;nbsp; “This is fucked up” I said to her as I picked up my backpack.&amp;nbsp; Micayla said nothing in return.&amp;nbsp; I looked around the coffee shop wondering how many people knew the dark secret I had just stumbled upon.&amp;nbsp; It was a small town and Micalya’s&amp;nbsp; lawsuit was prominently reported in all the local papers and even the Boston TV stations had picked up her contentious battle with the local school board.&amp;nbsp; I looked towards Micayla again, and although she had turned away from me trying to hide her emotions, I could see a tear rolling down her cheek.“&amp;nbsp; “Fuck me” I said as I dropped my backpack and sat back down in the chair.&amp;nbsp; “Your a guy?” I said again as if there existed some possibility that I was wrong.&amp;nbsp; “No, I am most definitely a girl” Micayla replied firmly as she turned towards me looking straight into my eyes.&amp;nbsp; “But you have a rather large Adams apple” I said pointing towards her neck.&amp;nbsp; “Yeah, and a few other appendages that might surprise you as well” she said fiercely.&amp;nbsp; She stared at me intently, her eyes blazing.&amp;nbsp; “But make no mistake, I am the same girl that you wanted to fuck not so long ago”.&amp;nbsp; I leaned back in my chair trying to make some sense of the chaos that had suddenly descended upon the coffee shop without any warning.&amp;nbsp; “You’ll have to forgive me, but I am having a difficult time processing everything that just happened.”&amp;nbsp; “Nothing happened.&amp;nbsp; You simply acquired some information you had not anticipated.&amp;nbsp; Everything is exactly as it was a few moments ago.”&amp;nbsp; I glanced down towards her crotch without even thinking.&amp;nbsp; “Looking for something Mr. Smiley?”&amp;nbsp; “No.... I just...&amp;nbsp; This is all just a little bizarre.”&amp;nbsp; I leaned forward placing my elbows on the table and began to rub my temples.&amp;nbsp; “Would you like me to rub your head?” Micayla snickered.&amp;nbsp; “No” I said defensively waving her off.&amp;nbsp; I folded my hands and placed them on the table.&amp;nbsp; Taking a deep breath and relaxing my shoulders, I rolled my head from side to side.&amp;nbsp; Micayla kept glancing in my direction as she continued to scan the room nervously.&amp;nbsp; “Well, I will tell you one thing” I said smiling again.&amp;nbsp; “No offense, but there is no chance in hell that I will be cheating on my wife with you!”&amp;nbsp; I laughed heartily and Micayla after holding back for a moment, began to chuckle then she burst into laughter as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-6590530752078223538?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/6590530752078223538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=6590530752078223538' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6590530752078223538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6590530752078223538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/04/nice-mugs-part-vi.html' title='Nice Mugs - Part VI'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-7191996475898576360</id><published>2011-04-18T07:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T07:42:03.168-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mixin' it up</title><content type='html'>This weekend was a mixed bag with work, art, socializing and slothness.&amp;nbsp; I had to work all weekend, but I took four hours off Saturday for a "Five Minute Art" show with my new group of creative friends; writers, directors, actors, artists etc...&amp;nbsp; I am not particularly drawn to fine art, but I admire contemporary art and I am working hard to make more contacts in the film industry.&amp;nbsp; Now that I am interacting more with creative people, I am finding myself drawn into their community.&amp;nbsp; Many of my new friends are unusual in some way and I seem to fit right in.&amp;nbsp; I think that most of them are introverts which strikes me as a bit odd.&amp;nbsp; The idea behind a five minute art show is that you spend at least five minutes each with five different pieces of art, then discuss them as a group.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first attempt at writing a short story (Nice Mugs) continues but I have been struggling a bit with a lack of creativity (and motivation).&amp;nbsp; Hopefully I will have a some more material soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-7191996475898576360?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/7191996475898576360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=7191996475898576360' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7191996475898576360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7191996475898576360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/04/mixin-it-up.html' title='Mixin&apos; it up'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-7756321417326029719</id><published>2011-04-15T08:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-15T08:48:17.874-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Mugs - Part V</title><content type='html'>“I told her that I met up with a friend.”&amp;nbsp; “So we’re friends now?” Micayla looked at me with a devilish grin.&amp;nbsp; “For now” I replied slyly. “What is your last name Dirk?”&amp;nbsp; “Smiley” I said beaming from ear to ear.”&amp;nbsp; “No, really...” she replied.&amp;nbsp; I persisted. “I’m not kidding.&amp;nbsp; My last name is Smiley”.&amp;nbsp; “Huh...&amp;nbsp; Interesting.&amp;nbsp; I have never heard of anyone with the last name of Smiley.&amp;nbsp; So Mr. Smiley, where are we going with this?”&amp;nbsp; “Well, I was thinking we could go get a hotel room and get right to it.” I said without missing a beat.&amp;nbsp; “What, no mental foreplay?”&amp;nbsp; No chit chat?&amp;nbsp; Get to know each other a bit?”&amp;nbsp; She looked at me with a raised brow.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I laughed heartily.&amp;nbsp; “Well..., I guess we could start with that.&amp;nbsp; But I don’t have all day so we’ll have to make it quick.” I said gesturing at my watch.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; “Ok...&amp;nbsp; So, what is your favorite color Miss Marconi?”&amp;nbsp; “Black.” she replied then sat backing waiting for my response.&amp;nbsp; “Black?...” I repeated.&amp;nbsp; “Now that is unusual.”&amp;nbsp; “Just like me”&amp;nbsp; she replied.&amp;nbsp; Now I sat back sizing up my new friend.&amp;nbsp; I leaned forward staring intently into her eyes.&amp;nbsp; “You know what I really want?”&amp;nbsp; “Yes, I think I do”&amp;nbsp; Micayla grinned impishly.&amp;nbsp; “I would like to get to know you and become fabulous friends while avoiding physical intimacy.”&amp;nbsp; “Yeah....” she replied.&amp;nbsp; “Like that is even possible.&amp;nbsp; Men like you are driven by conquest.”&amp;nbsp; “But that is my point exactly” I replied enthusiastically.&amp;nbsp; “We do the chit chat blah blah blah thing.&amp;nbsp; And not to be presumptuous, but lets say we end up in bed.&amp;nbsp; That fucks everything up!&amp;nbsp; No pun intended.&amp;nbsp; I think it would be really cool to have a non-physical intimate relationship with someone like you because I get most of what an affair has to offer without crossing that final boundary.”&amp;nbsp; “So you are not attracted to me?” she said matter of factly.&amp;nbsp; “Nooo....&amp;nbsp; I mean yes, I am attracted to you.”&amp;nbsp; I laughed.&amp;nbsp; “But it is not just about sex and physical attraction.&amp;nbsp; My wife is my best friend, but sometimes you want to be with someone that is not your best friend.&amp;nbsp; And I admit that I am drawn to young attractive woman that are interesting, intelligent and confident.&amp;nbsp; Perhaps that makes me shallow, but at least I am honest.”&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-7756321417326029719?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/7756321417326029719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=7756321417326029719' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7756321417326029719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7756321417326029719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/04/nice-mugs-part-v.html' title='Nice Mugs - Part V'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-2710278244127551090</id><published>2011-04-14T22:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T22:44:17.186-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Mugs - Part IV</title><content type='html'>“Well... that was interesting.” I looked at Micayla with an inquisitive look on my face.&amp;nbsp; “He is just an asshole” she grimaced.&amp;nbsp; Her hands seemed to be shaking a bit as she raised her mug to her lips.&amp;nbsp; She swallowed her coffee and took a deep breath.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; “Mikey was my nickname in high school, but I am definitely not Mikey anymore.&amp;nbsp; I have moved on but clearly Nick has not.”&amp;nbsp; “That’s&amp;nbsp; cool.”&amp;nbsp; I grinned at her.&amp;nbsp; “So how is it that you can hang out at the coffee shop?&amp;nbsp; Don’t you work” Micayla asked.&amp;nbsp; “Yes, I&amp;nbsp; work very hard.&amp;nbsp; Fortunately I work for myself so I can come and go as I please.&amp;nbsp; Plus, I work in IT so we keep rather odd hours.”&amp;nbsp; Micayla suddenly stood up and&amp;nbsp; looked towards the front counter.&amp;nbsp; “I am getting a refill.&amp;nbsp; You want anything?”&amp;nbsp; “No, thanks.&amp;nbsp; I am good.”&amp;nbsp; She turned and walked towards the counter.&amp;nbsp; I stared at her ass shamelessly as she walked away.&amp;nbsp; Round and firm, she kept herself in excellent shape.&amp;nbsp; I wondered if she went to the gym.&amp;nbsp; Perhaps even the one I belonged to.&amp;nbsp; I spent at least two hours a day either lifting weights or doing some type of cardio.&amp;nbsp; I was inspired to pump iron after watching the movie “American Beauty” and realizing&amp;nbsp; that my life was pathetically similar to the film’s protagonist, Lester Burnham, a middle-aged loser with a dead-end job at an advertising company.&amp;nbsp; In the movie, Lester realizes that he has lost his zest for life and experiences a life-altering transformation that includes whipping his pot-bellied body back into shape.&amp;nbsp; My phone began to vibrate and I retrieved it from my coat pocket.&amp;nbsp; I looked down and the large LCD displayed my wife’s picture.&amp;nbsp; “Hey Donna.” I spoke softly into the little device. “Hey Dirk, are you at work yet?”&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; “No, I am still at the coffee shop.”&amp;nbsp; “Your running&amp;nbsp; late today...”.&amp;nbsp; Her voice had a questioning tone to it.&amp;nbsp; “Yeah, I, uh... met&amp;nbsp; a friend.&amp;nbsp; We are just chatting a bit.’”&amp;nbsp; “Ok.&amp;nbsp; Well, call me later.&amp;nbsp; We need to talk about going to see Will tonight.”&amp;nbsp; “Ok, I will call or text you when I get to work.&amp;nbsp; We planned to drive over to Amherst to see our youngest son at college later in the evening.&amp;nbsp; Micayla was walking back&amp;nbsp; towards me and I furtively ran my eyes up and down her body trying not to be obvious.&amp;nbsp; She had a very small chest, but an athletic, almost boyish figure.&amp;nbsp; As she sat down in her chair I began to think about how Donna would feel about me talking with Micayla.&amp;nbsp; After almost thirty years together, we trust each other completely and other then one stupid affair twenty years ago, I have never violated the sanctity of our marriage.&amp;nbsp; But, like many other men following their primeval instincts, I still relish the hunt and love to think that I can “get the girl” and bring her back to my cave.&amp;nbsp; “Was that your wife of twenty four years on the phone?”&amp;nbsp; “Yes.”&amp;nbsp; “Did you tell her that you were hitting on some strange girl in the coffee shop?”&amp;nbsp; “Not exactly” I replied.&amp;nbsp; I grinned at her swiping some crumbs off of the table.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-2710278244127551090?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/2710278244127551090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=2710278244127551090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2710278244127551090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2710278244127551090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/04/nice-mugs-part-iv.html' title='Nice Mugs - Part IV'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5709466732615815789</id><published>2011-04-14T18:06:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T18:06:38.848-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Mugs - Part III</title><content type='html'>Raising slightly from my seat, I extended my hand across the table " My name is Dirk".&amp;nbsp; She reached out and clasped my hand firmly, surprising me with her strong grip.&amp;nbsp; "Micayla Marconi".&amp;nbsp; Her bright hazel eyes searched my face intently as if she was anticipating a reaction.&amp;nbsp; Suddenly she realized that she was still holding my hand and dropping her eyes, withdrew her hand quickly with a nervous laugh.&amp;nbsp; "So, are you from around here?" I asked taking a sip from my latte, cradling the large white porcelain mug with two hands.&amp;nbsp; A deep frown furrowed her eyebrows.&amp;nbsp; "Are you kidding me?&amp;nbsp; Really?&amp;nbsp; Is that the best you can come up with?&amp;nbsp; You set some pretty high expectations with the whole mug reflects personality bit.”&amp;nbsp; I looked around the shop nervously and started to think about why I was even sitting across the table from this young woman that I had never met before.&amp;nbsp; I had been coming to this coffee shop for a few years now, and while I knew most of the regulars, she was not one of them.&amp;nbsp; “You asked me why I was here..” I shifted my eyes back to her face noticing she wore just a hint of makeup.&amp;nbsp; “You now, I am not sure why I come here day after day. A few years ago I was struggling with some emotional issues and I started going to the coffee shop because I was a bit lonely I suppose.”&amp;nbsp; “Yeah, I know that feeling.” Micayla broke of a piece of her biscotti popping it in her mouth.&amp;nbsp; “Hey Mikey!” A loud voice pierced our conversation.&amp;nbsp; Micayla looked behind me and I turned to see a young man standing at the counter pouring sugar into his coffee.&amp;nbsp; “It’s Micayla, not Mikey” she replied angrily to the lanky blond-haired man.&amp;nbsp; He was wearing large work boots and a bulky Carhartt winter jacket.&amp;nbsp; “Whatever Mikey” he said smiling.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; He winked at me saying&amp;nbsp; “Good luck” with a sarcastic tone.&amp;nbsp; Then throwing a dismissive wave in our direction he sauntered out the front door chuckling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5709466732615815789?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5709466732615815789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5709466732615815789' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5709466732615815789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5709466732615815789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/04/nice-mugs-part-iii_14.html' title='Nice Mugs - Part III'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-7321008466859710528</id><published>2011-04-13T07:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-13T07:32:04.244-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Blah blah blah</title><content type='html'>It is a cold grey day in the&amp;nbsp; blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.&amp;nbsp; Blah blah blah blah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blah blah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-7321008466859710528?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/7321008466859710528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=7321008466859710528' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7321008466859710528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7321008466859710528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/04/blah-blah-blah.html' title='Blah blah blah'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3311780121605942412</id><published>2011-04-06T08:10:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T08:52:03.591-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Mugs (cont'd)</title><content type='html'>"Well, when I analyze the juxtaposition of the artwork on your mug, it clearly indicates a predilection for jazz." I said.&amp;nbsp; "Yeah, I don't think so" she replied looking down at her book.&amp;nbsp; "&lt;i&gt;Or &lt;/i&gt;perhaps it was the enthusiasm with which you were tapping your fingers in time with John Coltrane?"&amp;nbsp; I asked mustering the wittiest look I could.&amp;nbsp; What about the puppy dogs?" she asked without looking up.&amp;nbsp; "Everyone loves puppy dogs" I replied with a smug look on my face.&amp;nbsp; She laughed and looked up at me, silent for a moment.&amp;nbsp; "You are a bit odd aren't you?".&amp;nbsp; "You think?" I replied.&amp;nbsp; "I don't mean in a bad way.&amp;nbsp; More like interesting odd..." she trailed off looking out the front window.&amp;nbsp; I could sense some emotional pain in her blank stare.&amp;nbsp; "...and married?" she said glancing at my ring finger. "24 years with the greatest woman in the world" I replied."&amp;nbsp; "Why are you here" she asked starkly.&amp;nbsp; "Apparently to meet you".&amp;nbsp; "Ha...&amp;nbsp; Not likely she said looking down at her book again.&amp;nbsp; "Why are you here?" I asked.&amp;nbsp; "Not to meet you" she replied.&amp;nbsp; "I stood there for a moment, unsure what to do next.&amp;nbsp; The coffee shop was rapidly filling with patrons and I was beginning&amp;nbsp; to feel out of place standing next to her table. "Are you just going to stand there all day or are you going to sit down and have a proper conversation with me?" she asked flashing a toothy grin.&amp;nbsp; I smiled, set my backpack down, then sat down across the table from her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3311780121605942412?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3311780121605942412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3311780121605942412' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3311780121605942412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3311780121605942412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/04/nice-mugs-contd.html' title='Nice Mugs (cont&apos;d)'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-1414538125357555947</id><published>2011-04-04T07:52:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T08:06:37.159-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nice Mugs...</title><content type='html'>It's a cold cloudy day in the town square this morning.&amp;nbsp; The weather reflects my somber gray mood.&amp;nbsp; I have been in a bit of a funk for the past month or so and I just can't seem to shake it.&amp;nbsp; When I become melancholy, my wandering eye is much more active.&amp;nbsp; Couple that with the recent argument I had with D and I am well positioned to completely fuck up my life.&amp;nbsp; Thankfully I recognize the temporal nature of any encounter I may have and I steer clear of any opportunities that could turn into something ugly.&amp;nbsp; But, I still think....&amp;nbsp; Yes, and I use the word "think" loosely.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I had a brief conversation with a young woman at the coffee shop.&amp;nbsp; I arrived later then usual and she walked in a bit later.&amp;nbsp; She ordered a coffee and a biscotta then sat down directly across from my table.&amp;nbsp; I caught her eye for a moment and she responded with the briefest of smiles.&amp;nbsp; Producing a paperback from her pocketbook she began to read while nibbling on her twice-baked cookie.&amp;nbsp; I closed my laptop and stood up placing it in my bag.&amp;nbsp; I then carried my dishes up to the counter, returned to my table and slung my pack over my shoulder heading towards&amp;nbsp; the door.&amp;nbsp; As I walked by her table I noticed her coffee mug.&amp;nbsp; It was an odd green color with some funky letters on it and appeared to be some type of homemade ceramic.&amp;nbsp; "Nice mug" I said as I walked by her table.&amp;nbsp; "Thank you" she replied looking up at me.&amp;nbsp; She had a beautiful smile and I paused by her table for a moment.&amp;nbsp; "I picked it up at the thrift shop" she continued.&amp;nbsp; "Really?" I asked.&amp;nbsp; "It is very unusual.&amp;nbsp; You know..." I paused as I looked intently into her face.&amp;nbsp; She had hazel eyes, a small upturned nose and prominent cheek bones.&amp;nbsp; I colorful scarf was wrapped around her neck and she wore a green wool sweater that did not accentuate her small pert breasts.&amp;nbsp; "Coffee mugs almost always reflect the personality of the owner" I continued.&amp;nbsp; "Oh really" she asked tilting her head a bit to the side her mouth curling upward with a sly grin.&amp;nbsp; "Definitely"&amp;nbsp; I replied.&amp;nbsp; "And what would my mug say about me?"&amp;nbsp; "Well..."&amp;nbsp; I started as I looked down at the unusual container.&amp;nbsp; "I think it says that you have a real sense of style, you look for the interesting things in life, you like traditional jazz music with a lot of saxophone and you love cute puppy dogs."&amp;nbsp; "Ok, I will give you points one and two... but you need to explain points two and three" she said as she leaned back in her chair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-1414538125357555947?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/1414538125357555947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=1414538125357555947' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1414538125357555947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1414538125357555947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/04/its-cold-cloudy-day-in-town-square-this.html' title='Nice Mugs...'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3240749049550872961</id><published>2011-04-01T08:53:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-01T09:10:19.532-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Move over Spielberg</title><content type='html'>I really don't mind when it snows in&amp;nbsp; April.&amp;nbsp; I know that it will not last and I have thoroughly enjoyed this winter.&amp;nbsp; While I am ready for summer, I know that here in New England, it will come soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qvrNrtUiVW8/TZXOrw9NK2I/AAAAAAAAALw/abWRjEUWeZg/s1600/Snow+Covered+Bikes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="191" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qvrNrtUiVW8/TZXOrw9NK2I/AAAAAAAAALw/abWRjEUWeZg/s320/Snow+Covered+Bikes.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday night I went to a mini-premier of six short movies created locally.&amp;nbsp; They were all pretty good, but my real purpose in attending was to meet some people involved in the movie-making business.&amp;nbsp; I was fortunate enough to meet a local writer/director and we had a great conversation.&amp;nbsp; He said that I could work with him on his next movie which begins filming in May.&amp;nbsp; I am super psyched about this opportunity and I have become slightly obsessed with thinking about script ideas and Oscar speeches :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3240749049550872961?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3240749049550872961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3240749049550872961' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3240749049550872961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3240749049550872961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/04/move-over-spielberg.html' title='Move over Spielberg'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qvrNrtUiVW8/TZXOrw9NK2I/AAAAAAAAALw/abWRjEUWeZg/s72-c/Snow+Covered+Bikes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-2906006837293586894</id><published>2011-03-23T07:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T07:53:54.636-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fuck You!</title><content type='html'>Dear Dad,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am doing pretty well, thanks.&amp;nbsp; You have not heard from me in a while because I am really struggling with our relationship.&amp;nbsp; I spend a lot of time with R and as I watch her struggle to simply survive day to day, I become very angry with you.&amp;nbsp; I don't understand how you can completely ignore, and have no apparent interest in your own daughter!&amp;nbsp; Based on what I have been told, you are completely responsible for the trauma that destroyed her life and yet you take no responsibility for your actions or, deny what you have been accused of.&amp;nbsp; So that leaves me with a gaping wound that will not heal with time alone.&amp;nbsp; So forgive me if I don't contact you on a more regular basis.&amp;nbsp; I am probably too busy driving down to one of the many psychiatric hospitals R has been admitted to, or perhaps I am visiting her in the hospital after she broke her leg when she fell down for no apparent reason.&amp;nbsp; I might be just spending the day with her trying to be a good brother helping her to find some reason to continue on with her incredibly difficult existence as she tries to answer the question "why did this happen to me?"&amp;nbsp; I am sure you are very busy with your house in Florida and all the money your wife inherited.&amp;nbsp; Your probably occupied with planning how to spend the rest of your retirement while I encourage R to simply venture from her apartment and play bingo with the ladies that live in the building.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will try to be a better son, but I am awfully busy being a good brother.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirk&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-2906006837293586894?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/2906006837293586894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=2906006837293586894' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2906006837293586894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2906006837293586894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/03/fuck-you.html' title='Fuck You!'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3098113791734577031</id><published>2011-03-21T07:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T07:46:24.281-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Folgers Weekend</title><content type='html'>D and I spent the weekend up in Rangely ME with friends.&amp;nbsp; They have a beautiful place on Mooselookmeguntic Lake right in the heart of snowmobiling country.&amp;nbsp; D hung out with her friends while our host took me out for some of the best sledding of my life.&amp;nbsp; However, he liked the rough back-country trails and my sled is really not made for that type of terrain.&amp;nbsp; However, with a little persuasion (and a lot shoveling) we managed to get through the trails.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mVMiSSR0XDI/TYc3vLRHT9I/AAAAAAAAALo/5d6ysReERM4/s1600/IMAG0044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="191" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mVMiSSR0XDI/TYc3vLRHT9I/AAAAAAAAALo/5d6ysReERM4/s320/IMAG0044.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The deer and moose signs were everywhere (I had moose shit on my sled) and we often had to reduce speeds or risk running into one of these big creatures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mR6Fi-tSGIQ/TYc4clGJZEI/AAAAAAAAALs/-L0wzWwRDno/s1600/IMAG0049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="191" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mR6Fi-tSGIQ/TYc4clGJZEI/AAAAAAAAALs/-L0wzWwRDno/s320/IMAG0049.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was almost surreal coming home and realizing it was time to rake the yard as we had been post-holing in 3 - 4 feet of the white stuff every time we ventured off trail for the past three days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sledding season is over for me and J, and while it was a great one, I am looking forward to the warmer weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS.&amp;nbsp; Why the title "Folgers Weekend"?&amp;nbsp; That was their coffee brand... Yuck :-)&amp;nbsp; The best part of waking up is definitely NOT Folgers in your cup.&amp;nbsp; Yes, I am a coffee snob.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3098113791734577031?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3098113791734577031/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3098113791734577031' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3098113791734577031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3098113791734577031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/03/folgers-weekend.html' title='Folgers Weekend'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-mVMiSSR0XDI/TYc3vLRHT9I/AAAAAAAAALo/5d6ysReERM4/s72-c/IMAG0044.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-6966164032749514865</id><published>2011-03-15T07:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-15T07:46:34.660-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Raising J</title><content type='html'>"How many of hours of community service do you have left to complete?" I asked J as I drove him to work.&amp;nbsp; I don't normally like to have difficult conversations with him before he starts his work day, but I am quickly heading into panic mode with March 31 (the last day for him to finish his community service) looming in about two weeks.&amp;nbsp; "I have 28 hours left" he replied.&amp;nbsp; I know he did not do any community service this past weekend and I am really pissed about it.&amp;nbsp; "J, I am going to lose my mind" I said in an exasperated voice.&amp;nbsp; "I am literally going to have a nervous breakdown because you are making a really bad decision and you will be going back to jail" I continued.&amp;nbsp; He sat there without saying anything.&amp;nbsp; I could see that he was pissed but I didn't care anymore.&amp;nbsp; I had to shake him into reality so that he would realize how incredibly stupid he was acting.&amp;nbsp; "Dad, I have a plan; I will get it done" he said.&amp;nbsp; "I assume your plan is to work for the Park/Rec dept?" I asked.&amp;nbsp; "What if they manager is on vacation next week?&amp;nbsp; What if he can't give you work?&amp;nbsp; What if you end up in the hospital because of your back?&amp;nbsp; Your cutting this way to close and your risking your freedom for... for...&amp;nbsp; what?" I sputtered.&amp;nbsp; At that I shut up and pulled into the gas station so he could get his coffee.&amp;nbsp; When he got back to the car I was quiet for a few minutes then I said quietly "J, I just don't want you to go back to jail".&amp;nbsp; We drove in silence for a few more minutes then I asked him some questions about work to try and get him back into a better frame of mind before we arrived at his worksite.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I had a conversation with D about adopting an older child.&amp;nbsp; Perhaps I should rethink that...&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-6966164032749514865?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/6966164032749514865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=6966164032749514865' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6966164032749514865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6966164032749514865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/03/raising-j.html' title='Raising J'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-7554362899174515142</id><published>2011-03-14T07:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T07:51:41.675-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Called to Serve</title><content type='html'>It is a quiet day in the town square today.&amp;nbsp; I was able to park directly in front of the coffee shop.&amp;nbsp; I suspect people are having a difficult time with their morning routines due to the transition to daylight savings time.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I enjoyed teaching the cadets winter survival techniques this past weekend.&amp;nbsp; We made Quinzee's (snow caves)&amp;nbsp; but unfortunately, with the warm weather we could not sleep in them because as I was concerned about the snow house collapsing in the middle of the night.&amp;nbsp; We still slept outside with temps in the mid thirties.&amp;nbsp; We went for a snowshoe hike after dark under the watchful gaze of the crescent moon.&amp;nbsp; The woods were drenched in the moonlight and out we could see perfectly without flashlights.&amp;nbsp; I really enjoy spending time with the kids.&amp;nbsp; My former 1st Sargent has left the program, but came back as an officer to help out.&amp;nbsp; As we were preparing to leave he said to me "Officer E, earlier today you challenged us to live the life of our dreams.&amp;nbsp; I want you to know that I dream about becoming just like you."&amp;nbsp; I stepped back for a moment and looked at this young man and who he had become.&amp;nbsp; Wearing civilian clothes and sporting a close-shaven beard and mustache, he was unlike the young adolescent I first met many years ago.&amp;nbsp; He was shipping out to Paris Island in July to begin a new phase of his life as a Marine.&amp;nbsp; While I was proud of the influence I had upon him (although I was extremely disappointed he did not go to college before the military) I couldn't help but wonder if I would one day receive that phone call that no one involved with the military ever wants to get.&amp;nbsp; "Thank you Morales" I said as I extended my hand.&amp;nbsp; "I am sure you will make us proud".&amp;nbsp; While I was saddened to see him put in harms way, I knew that the skills I had taught him would make him a better Marine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-7554362899174515142?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/7554362899174515142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=7554362899174515142' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7554362899174515142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7554362899174515142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/03/called-to-serve.html' title='Called to Serve'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-4870536392249063146</id><published>2011-03-11T07:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-11T07:39:26.828-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back with the cadets</title><content type='html'>This weekend I am taking the cadets up to a friends property in the White Mountains for a winter survival trip.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;They have done most of the planning of the event and I am really looking forward to it. We will be making Quinzees (snow caves) to sleep in, as well as learning&amp;nbsp; how to make a fire from flint and steel.&amp;nbsp; Sunday I will&amp;nbsp; teach them how to cook scrambled eggs using nothing more than boiling water and a ziploc bag.&amp;nbsp; We have a new staff member that is very interested in outdoor and survival activities and he will be coming along with us. &amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-4870536392249063146?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/4870536392249063146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=4870536392249063146' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4870536392249063146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4870536392249063146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/03/back-with-cadets.html' title='Back with the cadets'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-6357644134496309770</id><published>2011-03-07T07:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-07T07:30:21.615-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring soon?</title><content type='html'>It raining in the town square today.&amp;nbsp; The snow banks are quickly receding and we will be back sitting out on the sidewalk before you know it.&amp;nbsp; They are still&amp;nbsp; getting snow up north so the winter survival encampment I am planning for the cadet group should go well next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was nice to see&amp;nbsp; B for the past few days, although we really did not do much together as I have been working&amp;nbsp; non-stop.&amp;nbsp; He continues to talk about grad school and his plans to be a doctor which makes me very happy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-6357644134496309770?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/6357644134496309770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=6357644134496309770' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6357644134496309770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6357644134496309770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/03/spring-soon.html' title='Spring soon?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-883045544178466900</id><published>2011-03-04T07:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-04T07:39:38.457-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Prayers answererd...</title><content type='html'>Dear God,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry I was so pissed off at you when B got sick and had to come home early from his Spring Break Alternative trip.&amp;nbsp; I am still supremely disappointed, but I acknowledge that I am a mere mortal with little to no knowledge of your grand plan.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I am &lt;b&gt;VERY, VERY&lt;/b&gt; grateful that B has been selected as an RA for next year, entitling him to free room and meals.&amp;nbsp; I prayed to you to help me find a way to pay for his tuition, and you responded in kind.&amp;nbsp; Thank you...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-883045544178466900?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/883045544178466900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=883045544178466900' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/883045544178466900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/883045544178466900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/03/prayers-answererd.html' title='Prayers answererd...'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-6685422061777560263</id><published>2011-03-02T08:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-03-02T08:48:59.998-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Testing my faith...</title><content type='html'>We received a call from B.&amp;nbsp; He has a fever of 103 and we have to pick him up from his spring break alternative trip.&amp;nbsp; This fucking sucks!&amp;nbsp; Why in the world would God deny him this opportunity?&amp;nbsp; I am so fucking pissed right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-6685422061777560263?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/6685422061777560263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=6685422061777560263' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6685422061777560263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6685422061777560263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/03/testing-my-faith.html' title='Testing my faith...'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-6253517850110428491</id><published>2011-02-26T11:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-26T11:42:32.085-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Motor???</title><content type='html'>Z,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you might expect, I not only have a motor in my sled, but quite a powerful one.&amp;nbsp; High performance carbs, tuned exhaust, 7 inch handlebar riser and a racing clutch.&amp;nbsp; It is my baby...&amp;nbsp; Old, but trusty.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ZBsMIqbzSp0/TWktMLhmm2I/AAAAAAAAALk/rKIJ5hxTTZk/s1600/My+Sled.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ZBsMIqbzSp0/TWktMLhmm2I/AAAAAAAAALk/rKIJ5hxTTZk/s320/My+Sled.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-6253517850110428491?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/6253517850110428491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=6253517850110428491' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6253517850110428491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6253517850110428491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/02/motor.html' title='Motor???'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-ZBsMIqbzSp0/TWktMLhmm2I/AAAAAAAAALk/rKIJ5hxTTZk/s72-c/My+Sled.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-607463577035102832</id><published>2011-02-21T07:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-21T07:48:52.047-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Old sled given new life!</title><content type='html'>Saturday I worked on my sled all day, installing a new seat cover and 7" handlebar risers.&amp;nbsp; Sunday I went sledding in the mountains of Maine with J and some friends.&amp;nbsp; Other then my seat falling off before we even left the parking lot (in my rush, I forgot to bolt it down :-) we had a fabulous day.&amp;nbsp; The conditions were near perfect and now that I can stand while riding, I can not only keep up with J, but even challenge him a bit.&amp;nbsp; Not bad for an old man.&amp;nbsp; Yesterday was also a satisfying day because the last time J was with these particular friends, he had a nasty fight with one of them.&amp;nbsp; I had encouraged J to reach out to my friend and yesterdays ride was a result of that effort.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B sent me an email over the weekend telling me he had dropped his phone in the toilet.&amp;nbsp; It is a brand new phone and I think he had an expectation that we were going to replace it for him immediately.&amp;nbsp; Yeah, I don't think so.&amp;nbsp; He skyped&amp;nbsp; me last night, but I did not talk with him for very long because he was pissed that we said he would have to use his old phone for a while.&amp;nbsp; Tough love...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-607463577035102832?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/607463577035102832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=607463577035102832' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/607463577035102832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/607463577035102832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/02/old-sled-given-new-life.html' title='Old sled given new life!'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-6663866045831104785</id><published>2011-02-16T15:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-16T15:07:53.337-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Son...</title><content type='html'>February 14, 2011&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear B,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I trust that your week of SBA is going well.&amp;nbsp; Hopefully you are experiencing the opportunity to make a meaningful difference in someone's life.&amp;nbsp; I expect you are also enjoying the time spent with your fellow humanitarians and it is proving to be a bonding experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would say that I was proud of you, but I suspect you are growing weary of, and perhaps indifferent to my approbation.&amp;nbsp; Rather, I shall share my hopes for your future life.&amp;nbsp; Most importantly, I pray that you will follow a path, that while influenced by those around you, is the result of the dreams that emanate from your own heart.&amp;nbsp; As you navigate among the many choices before you, do not shy away from that which might feel daunting or uncomfortable.&amp;nbsp; It is through pain and challenge that we realize meaningful spiritual growth.&amp;nbsp; Our inner strength is forged by overcoming seemingly insurmountable difficulties.&amp;nbsp; Our willingness to fail illuminates our ability to succeed.&amp;nbsp; Oddly enough, it is often fear of success, that prevents one from realizing their full potential.&amp;nbsp; Do not let meaningless shackles constrain you from reaching for the stars.&amp;nbsp; You will stumble, you will fall...&amp;nbsp; But if you stay true to yourself, you will realize success, however you define it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In our interconnected world of digital, neural networks, access to information, both useful and otherwise, can be overwhelming.&amp;nbsp; The urge to stay connected is compelling and can overshadow the real world and all the sensorial opportunities it has to offer.&amp;nbsp; Can you recall any text messages or ESPN updates that were truly memorable?&amp;nbsp; Yet, I am sure you recall a night when you stared up at the moon, watching, as the earth cast a shadow over the planetoid.&amp;nbsp; Or perhaps a brisk summer morning, up in the woods of Maine, watching the mist rise from the lake, while a family of ducks wandered down the beach.&amp;nbsp; It is these fleeting glimpses of nature's beauty that color our lives, and remind us that we are all part of something much more grand.&amp;nbsp; The materialistic world of shiny cars, big houses and large screen tv's, matters little in comparison.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days, your mother and I watch you from afar, but we are often delighted by the choices you make.&amp;nbsp; When we came to visit you last fall, you shared with us a glimpse into your new life away from home.&amp;nbsp; As we walked around the lecture hall, and I listened to you describe your learning experience, it struck me that we brought a boy to college in August, but went to visit a man in October.&amp;nbsp; I am proud of you B.&amp;nbsp; You're a good man and I am honored to be your father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy your time away B.&amp;nbsp; Just remember to stop for a moment, raise your head, and greet the wind as it passes by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-6663866045831104785?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/6663866045831104785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=6663866045831104785' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6663866045831104785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6663866045831104785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/02/dear-son.html' title='Dear Son...'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-2395252208667354451</id><published>2011-02-14T07:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-14T07:49:39.611-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stop and look  up...  Appreciate the wonder that is your life.</title><content type='html'>The eastern sky displayed a palette of pinks and reds this morning as I drove J to work.&amp;nbsp; Yesterday, as I ran a five mile loop from home, I noticed how white the snow is when it is cloudy.&amp;nbsp; I tried to talk with God as I pumped my legs up and down the numerous hills, but I was not able to; not directly anyways.&amp;nbsp; I did, however, feel the wind as it brushed past my face, carrying little snow flakes that wondered about my eyes and ears.&amp;nbsp; I often feel that God talks with me using wind as his voice, and if I turn my head in just the right way, I can hear him in both ears.&amp;nbsp; "When I ask you a question, how can I distinguish my responses from yours" I asked.&amp;nbsp; I knew, of course, that my question was rhetorical.&amp;nbsp; Unless of course, the snow banks parted before me and a voice boomed out from the heavens "Because I said so".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-2395252208667354451?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/2395252208667354451/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=2395252208667354451' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2395252208667354451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2395252208667354451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/02/stop-and-look-up-appreciate-wonder-that.html' title='Stop and look  up...  Appreciate the wonder that is your life.'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-734217446765592144</id><published>2011-02-10T08:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T08:00:35.165-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Metaphysicallity?</title><content type='html'>Fish,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think my wife would agree that adultery is not a crime :-)&amp;nbsp; And, if you strip away the emotions, I know from a purely logical perspective that adultery will only lead to unhappiness.&amp;nbsp; (Find woman, pursue woman, seduce woman,&amp;nbsp; find woman, pursue woman..... etc. )&amp;nbsp; It is an insatiable cycle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question at hand, for me, has more to do with thought, then deed.&amp;nbsp; Let's assume, for a moment, that when one is in a committed relationship, fucking another person is a crime (setting&amp;nbsp; aside the specific definition of "crime" for the moment}.&amp;nbsp; Does that mean, that fantasizing about fucking another person is a crime as well?&amp;nbsp; Further, what if this object of one's fantasy, objects to being metaphysically fucked?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-734217446765592144?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/734217446765592144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=734217446765592144' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/734217446765592144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/734217446765592144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/02/metaphysicallity.html' title='Metaphysicallity?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5288283632793101486</id><published>2011-02-09T08:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-09T08:05:30.271-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Just looking...</title><content type='html'>Following is a conversation with myself while I was running on the treadmill at the gym - &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, focus here.&amp;nbsp; Clear your mind.&amp;nbsp; Smooth out your gait.&amp;nbsp; Quiet feet. Nice even stride.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Oh damn, that is a nice ass!&amp;nbsp; &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What the fuck are you doing?&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Think of it as art.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Art?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Art&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about if you think of "it" as a woman?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;It's not like I am going to fuck her.&amp;nbsp; And look at the way she is dressed.&amp;nbsp; She would be disappointed if guys didn't look at her.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if she was not attractive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Then I wouldn't look&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So your shallow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Perhaps.&amp;nbsp; Or maybe I am just admiring ONE of the many fine attributes of a woman&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if these woman could read your mind and knew what your thinking?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I am ok with that.&amp;nbsp; I am not being disrespectful.&amp;nbsp; I am simply admiring the results of a lot of hard work and sacrifice.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not who you are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(Silence)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How you feel about yourself is a result of how you conduct yourself and your ability to live a life that reflects your values&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;I don't choose the woman whom I associate with based on their looks.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bullshit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Ok, maybe a little.&amp;nbsp; But aren't we talking about primeval instincts that I have limited control over?&amp;nbsp; Isn't it really about propagation of the species?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you do want to fuck her&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;No, well yeah, but no...&amp;nbsp; I love my wife.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; I accept monogamy.&amp;nbsp; It is just exciting to look.&amp;nbsp; It generates mood chemicals like endorphins and epinephrine.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God wouldn't like it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;God created it!&amp;nbsp; Should I not admire his work?&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your not admiring, your leering.&amp;nbsp; It is just a whisper away from touching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(Silence)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The question you have to ask yourself is this -&amp;nbsp; If there is nothing wrong with what you are doing, then why does it bother you so much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(Silence)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5288283632793101486?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5288283632793101486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5288283632793101486' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5288283632793101486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5288283632793101486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/02/just-looking.html' title='Just looking...'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-6038319559358341956</id><published>2011-02-07T07:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T07:31:26.747-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A weeks reprieve</title><content type='html'>J contacted the shelter on Friday and supposedly he is starting his community service this week.&amp;nbsp; I decided to give him another week before I boot him out.&amp;nbsp; Sunday morning we went out for coffee and had a good conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am making a little progress realizing my goals.&amp;nbsp; I have forsaken television on Tuesday nights and last week I spent some time working on my finances.&amp;nbsp; I also went down to Boston on Thursday and started working with the cadet group to plan a winter field exercise.&amp;nbsp; I miss the kids and I look forward to our next outing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-6038319559358341956?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/6038319559358341956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=6038319559358341956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6038319559358341956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6038319559358341956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/02/weeks-reprieve.html' title='A weeks reprieve'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3309133388989627348</id><published>2011-02-04T07:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-04T07:42:02.621-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Always a father</title><content type='html'>Conversation from two weeks ago - "J, we need to talk about&amp;nbsp; your community service" I&amp;nbsp; said as I drove J to work."What about&amp;nbsp; it" he replied in a defensive tone.&amp;nbsp; "You have not done any community service in a year" I continued.&amp;nbsp; "I am not going to stand by and watch you end up in jail because you can't get your community service done.&amp;nbsp; You have two weeks to find something on your own or I will start driving you to the shelter after work two days a week.&amp;nbsp; If you don't start your community service then you will have to move out.&amp;nbsp; I stood by once before and let you make this incredibly bad decision and I am not going to do it again."&amp;nbsp; "Whatever Dad" he replied staring out the side window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conversation from last week - "Just a reminder J, next week you need to start your community service.&amp;nbsp; If you don't line something up on your own, I will take you to the shelter two days a week after work".&amp;nbsp; "Whatever Dad" he replied staring out the side window.&amp;nbsp; "I am not going to accept any excuses either" I continued.&amp;nbsp; "I I don't want to hear you can't do it because you have something else more important.&amp;nbsp; I am dead serious about this and I hope you are taking me seriously" I said.&amp;nbsp; He just stared out the window and said nothing more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conversation from this morning - "So I will pick you up at 3:30 today?" I asked J as I drove him to work.&amp;nbsp; "For what" he replied.&amp;nbsp; "For community service" I said.&amp;nbsp; "I am not going.&amp;nbsp; I have a meeting with H R Block at 4:00" he retorted.&amp;nbsp; "J, I told you that I was not going to except any excuses.&amp;nbsp; Either you go or you will have to move out of the house".&amp;nbsp; "Then&amp;nbsp; I will move out" he said with a sullen look on his face.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp; could&amp;nbsp; feel the anger swelling up inside me and it took every ounce of energy to keep it together.&amp;nbsp; "J, if you do this, you will seriously damage our relationship" I said.&amp;nbsp; "Your telling me this as I DRIVE YOU TO WORK?" I added my voice raising in volume.&amp;nbsp; My fingers began to turn white as I clenched the steering wheel.&amp;nbsp; "So our relationship means so little to you that you would put this ahead of us? I asked.&amp;nbsp; He just sat there, saying nothing.&amp;nbsp; "J, I hope I get a call from you today telling me you changed your mind" I said as he got out of the truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck me...&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3309133388989627348?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3309133388989627348/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3309133388989627348' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3309133388989627348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3309133388989627348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/02/always-father.html' title='Always a father'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-2218394259867168775</id><published>2011-02-03T07:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-03T07:36:55.505-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Look Nova, I posted a picture!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/TUqg8XwLREI/AAAAAAAAALg/AojrLAmmSkg/s1600/IMAG0024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/TUqg8XwLREI/AAAAAAAAALg/AojrLAmmSkg/s320/IMAG0024.jpg" width="191" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a beautiful day in the town square today.&amp;nbsp; We received another foot of snow in the past few days and the banks are piled high everywhere.&amp;nbsp; Apparently we have broken all kinds or records including total annual snow and most snow in a day.&amp;nbsp; I don't mind the the white stuff; I actually like&amp;nbsp; it.&amp;nbsp; I had a ball last night plowing up the banks with my old jeep.&amp;nbsp; Heavy snow makes me appreciate my big ol' truck as well.&amp;nbsp; When everyone else stayed home yesterday, I put in a full day.&amp;nbsp; This weekend I plan to work on my sled and&amp;nbsp; next weekend&amp;nbsp; J and I will be out on the trails.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-2218394259867168775?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/2218394259867168775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=2218394259867168775' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2218394259867168775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2218394259867168775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/02/look-nova-i-posted-picture.html' title='Look Nova, I posted a picture!'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/TUqg8XwLREI/AAAAAAAAALg/AojrLAmmSkg/s72-c/IMAG0024.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3837550325027185332</id><published>2011-01-29T06:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-31T06:57:59.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Goals</title><content type='html'>I have been spending a lot of time lately&amp;nbsp; thinking about my goals and why I don't really have any.&amp;nbsp; I have come to the conclusion that I am not prepared to make the sacrifices and changes necessary to achieve whatever goals I set for myself.&amp;nbsp; So I am going to set some goals that are about changing the behavior that impedes my ability to achieve my goals.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3837550325027185332?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3837550325027185332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3837550325027185332' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3837550325027185332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3837550325027185332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/01/goals.html' title='Goals'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8353793862445747059</id><published>2011-01-28T07:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-28T08:55:09.397-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Goals'/><title type='text'>If you don't know  where your going, any road will get you there.  -Lewis Carroll</title><content type='html'>I stare out the frost-coated window of the coffee shop, watching delivery men shuffle boxes from their trucks to the many storefronts lining the town square.&amp;nbsp; I long to be curled up in the warmth of my bed next to my lovely wife.&amp;nbsp; The clanging of baking pans, as Lucy pulls fresh muffins out of the oven, brings me back to reality.&amp;nbsp; Soft jazz plays from the black speakers haphazardly attached to the walls.&amp;nbsp; The music makes me think about who I am, and whom I want to be.&amp;nbsp; This morning I did not go to work after I dropped J off.&amp;nbsp; Instead, I drove to the downtown park and napped till the sun began to peak over the shipyard across the river.&amp;nbsp; As I awoke from my snooze, I could see and hear seagulls calling out to one another in the early morning light as they whirled and turned searching for breakfast on this calm windless morning.&amp;nbsp; I could hear the lapping of his wake against the rivers edge as a fishermen piloted his hardy New England style vessel down river heading for the open ocean.&amp;nbsp; I suspect he is happier this morning as forecasters predict temperatures in the mid-thirties today; a balmy change compared to the zero-degree days we have been enduring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I sit here, I contemplate my place in this world.&amp;nbsp; Up until last Fall, my whole life revolved around being a father, or so it felt.&amp;nbsp; Now I seem to be solely focused on making money to pay for&amp;nbsp; B's tuition.&amp;nbsp; While important and admirable, it doesn't offer the same emotional payback that motivated me on a daily basis.&amp;nbsp; Now I feel lost, and in some ways, unimportant.&amp;nbsp; Tomorrow I will work on my goals... definitely... for sure.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8353793862445747059?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8353793862445747059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8353793862445747059' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8353793862445747059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8353793862445747059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/01/if-you-dont-know-where-your-going-any.html' title='If you don&apos;t know  where your going, any road will get you there.  -Lewis Carroll'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5957524221913811745</id><published>2011-01-27T08:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-27T08:02:36.333-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More  snow... again.</title><content type='html'>The coffee shop is quiet this morning.&amp;nbsp; I am the only customer sitting down and there are few people getting their morning elixir to go.&amp;nbsp; Last night we received another six inches of snow.&amp;nbsp; I think we have received five to six feet of snow already this year.&amp;nbsp; I know I am in the minority, but I like the snow.&amp;nbsp; After all, we live in New England.&amp;nbsp; Of course, with my interest in boarding and snowmobiling, I may be a bit biased.&amp;nbsp; I actually enjoy plowing as well.&amp;nbsp; Not the commercial plowing I used to do, but just my driveway and those of my immediate neighbors.&amp;nbsp; There is something incredibly gratifying about manhandling my 38 year-old jeep into pushing up monstrous banks of snow.&amp;nbsp; It is&amp;nbsp; incredible how much snow it will push for such a small vehicle.&amp;nbsp; When I was a child, I used to draw pictures of plow trucks...&amp;nbsp; Not really sure why, but apparently I am living that dream now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been struggling to focus on my goals as of late.&amp;nbsp; I am not sure why, but I just can't seem to get back into the process of writing them up and then revisiting them every month or so.&amp;nbsp; I think it may be because I don't have a lot of faith in my ability to achieve them.&amp;nbsp; I get brief periods of enthusiasm but overall, I have been pretty sedate.&amp;nbsp; Perhaps tomorrow I will at least write them down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5957524221913811745?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5957524221913811745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5957524221913811745' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5957524221913811745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5957524221913811745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/01/more-snow-again.html' title='More  snow... again.'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8767576968419913549</id><published>2011-01-26T08:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-26T08:27:01.895-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I have a dream</title><content type='html'>I listened to Pres. Obama deliver the State of the Union yesterday, and I was somewhat inspired by his speech.&amp;nbsp; I often wish that we lived in a society where the people genuinely cared about their fellow man more then money, power and influence.&amp;nbsp; I believe that our president has a genuine interest in helping others and I think it is unfortunate that so many, spend so much effort trying to undermine his efforts.&amp;nbsp; I am not taking sides on any particular issue; I am not sufficiently knowledgeable about many of the challenges we face as a Nation such as health care.&amp;nbsp; I just think that those that oppose him often do so for the betterment of their own particular agenda, not the people they represent.&amp;nbsp; In the end, how much does it really matter?&amp;nbsp; Years ago, I think it mattered less.&amp;nbsp; However, today the wealthy and powerful have much more direct influence in our lives then ever before.&amp;nbsp; Surrounded by highly intelligent advisers, many are able to influence and or benefit from the rapidly changing financial system while the rest of us are left to fend for ourselves unaware of foundational changes that are occurring on an almost daily basis.&amp;nbsp; I think that it is sad that a hard-working American works and saves his entire life, making sacrifices in hopes that he will enjoy some&amp;nbsp; level of comfort when he retires, only to find his savings wiped out in a flash, forcing him to return to the work&amp;nbsp; force performing some menial task such as bagging groceries.&amp;nbsp; There has to be a better way...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8767576968419913549?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8767576968419913549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8767576968419913549' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8767576968419913549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8767576968419913549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-have-dream.html' title='I have a dream'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8056396381197669245</id><published>2011-01-20T08:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-20T08:22:01.746-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I need a date</title><content type='html'>It is a beautiful day in the town square this morning.&amp;nbsp; The sun reflects brightly off a fresh coat of new snow that is covering everything.&amp;nbsp; Gone, for&amp;nbsp; the moment, are the dirty streets with their black and gray snow banks.&amp;nbsp; I have been praying more lately and the fact that I notice that it is a nice day, makes me think that perhaps God is listening.&amp;nbsp; If I come home to a hot, young Swedish housekeeper, then I will know God&amp;nbsp; is listening!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently hired someone to help me out at work and she is proving to be an incredibly bright woman with a great sense of humor.&amp;nbsp; We have a lot in common and I really enjoy working with her.&amp;nbsp; It is nice to have someone to talk with during the course of the day.&amp;nbsp; I think D will be staying in Florida till Monday so I will probably ask my new friend to go to the company party with me.&amp;nbsp; She seems shy and I suspect she may be troubled by some emotional issues.&amp;nbsp; Hopefully she will feel comfortable hanging out with a bunch of people she hardly knows.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8056396381197669245?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8056396381197669245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8056396381197669245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8056396381197669245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8056396381197669245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-need-date.html' title='I need a date'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-2221509585173938840</id><published>2011-01-19T08:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-19T08:07:07.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Go for it</title><content type='html'>Yesterday we picked up another 6 inches of snow then a couple inches of freezing rain on top of that.&amp;nbsp; My driveway is a skating rink.&amp;nbsp; Walking to the coffee shop this morning, I was able to display my keen sense of balance as I slid my way across the ice covered cobblestones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have an important meeting today at work.&amp;nbsp; I am presenting a review of IT performance and finances for 2010 and my plans and budget for 2011.&amp;nbsp; I have often set challenging, but reasonably safe goals for IT, but given that the company is bigger now then ever before, I think it is time for me to step up.&amp;nbsp; I am proposing that my client make a significant investment into an Enterprise Project Management solution.&amp;nbsp; I am a bit&amp;nbsp; nervous because I am still working my way through a document management solution we implemented last year, but I think that the iron is hot and I truly believe that this solution will fundamentally improve the way my client conducts business.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-2221509585173938840?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/2221509585173938840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=2221509585173938840' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2221509585173938840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2221509585173938840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/01/go-for-it.html' title='Go for it'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8692324092233994958</id><published>2011-01-17T08:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T08:06:17.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Settling into Winter</title><content type='html'>Wednesday I dropped D off at the airport and she will be in Florida with her parents till Saturday.&amp;nbsp; Yesterday I dropped B off at school.&amp;nbsp; This morning I dropped J off at work.&amp;nbsp; Maybe I should get a job as a limo driver :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday I went sledding with J.&amp;nbsp; We had a fun day.&amp;nbsp; The conditions were fair but I enjoy spending time with J.&amp;nbsp; The guys from the TV show Black Ops Brothers Howe and Howe were actually in the parking lot packing up their sleds when we returned from our ride.&amp;nbsp; We did not approach them out of&amp;nbsp; respect for their privacy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8692324092233994958?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8692324092233994958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8692324092233994958' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8692324092233994958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8692324092233994958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/01/settling-into-winter.html' title='Settling into Winter'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5946702265182255749</id><published>2011-01-12T09:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T09:04:19.843-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Snow</title><content type='html'>I am staring out the window of my old coffee shop, looking at almost a foot of snow on the ground and it is still coming down hard.&amp;nbsp; I had to get up at 5:15 to bring J to work only to have him bitch about it.&amp;nbsp; It took us 45 minutes to travel six miles.&amp;nbsp; My windshield wipers were not working properly and they were making an obnoxious scraping sound that was driving my practically out of my skin.&amp;nbsp; I got to work and realized that in all the commotion of getting out of the house this morning I left my computer, wallet and phone.&amp;nbsp; Fuck me...&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;Thankfully my wife had her wits about her and gave my crap to the neighbor I work with.&amp;nbsp; I feel much better now.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been in&amp;nbsp; a bitchy mood.&amp;nbsp; I am once again drowning financially which is ironic because I am making more money now than at any point in my life.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Between surprise repair bills, tuition and the IRS, I don't have a pot to piss in.&amp;nbsp; Oh well...&amp;nbsp; I need to just relax a little bit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5946702265182255749?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5946702265182255749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5946702265182255749' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5946702265182255749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5946702265182255749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/01/big-snow.html' title='Big Snow'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5561671025851569908</id><published>2011-01-10T07:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-10T07:40:29.009-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fathers and sons'/><title type='text'>Movie day</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, B and I went to see the movie "The Fighter".&amp;nbsp; It was an excellent film that both of us thoroughly enjoyed.&amp;nbsp; My background&amp;nbsp; is not dissimilar (at least from a familial perspective)&amp;nbsp; from that of the lead character.&amp;nbsp; As such, I was once again reminded of my incredible good fortune.&amp;nbsp; Last night, B and I began to watch the HBO mini-series "Pacific".&amp;nbsp; B, noticing the aloofness of a Dad as he was dropping off his son at boot camp, initiated a discussion about the various types of father-son relationships.&amp;nbsp; I explained that back in the forties, many father's felt uncomfortable expressing emotion in front of the sons, preferring to remain stoic thus maintaining an illusion of control.&amp;nbsp; I enjoy talking with B and I believe that we have a great relationship due in part to my willingness to tell and show B exactly how I feel. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5561671025851569908?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5561671025851569908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5561671025851569908' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5561671025851569908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5561671025851569908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/01/movie-day.html' title='Movie day'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8014436877573355601</id><published>2011-01-03T08:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-01-03T08:16:55.415-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Blues</title><content type='html'>The holidays are finally over, and while I enjoyed them, I am happy to be done with all the stress associated with this time of year.&amp;nbsp; D loves the holiday season and I could see sadness in her eyes yesterday as she took down, boxed up and put away all the Christmas decorations.&amp;nbsp; All except for the snow globes I have given her over the years.&amp;nbsp; This year I demanded that she leave them out all year to remind her of the holiday season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday I went sledding with J in Rangely ME.&amp;nbsp; It was a 3.5 hour trip both ways but the conditions were good and we had a great&amp;nbsp; day on the trails.&amp;nbsp; We are an odd couple; him with his $10,000 sled and all the expensive riding gear I have purchased for him over the years.&amp;nbsp; I ride a 16 year-old sled wearing ski pants and jacket.&amp;nbsp; I don't really care that much though because my money is going to B's education and maybe, one day, to J's.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8014436877573355601?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8014436877573355601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8014436877573355601' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8014436877573355601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8014436877573355601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2011/01/holiday-blues.html' title='Holiday Blues'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-6932012241831900375</id><published>2010-12-29T08:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T08:37:18.920-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Make me sad?</title><content type='html'>In some weird, twisted way, I miss my depression.&amp;nbsp; The thing about being an active depressive, is that you experience really powerful emotions.&amp;nbsp; The&amp;nbsp; part about wanting to harm yourself kinda sucks...&amp;nbsp; But I miss feeling something that evokes strong emotions, even something that sucks!&amp;nbsp; My life is great...&amp;nbsp; I am incredibly fortunate...&amp;nbsp; But fuck, it is boring as shit.&amp;nbsp; I really need to find something to fill this void.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, enough about me and my pathetic whining.&amp;nbsp; My brother and sister in-law once again booted out my 19 year-old nephew.&amp;nbsp; The problem now, is that winter is upon us and it is frigging cold out.&amp;nbsp; Supposedly he is living in his car.&amp;nbsp; I was 17 when my Dad left me on my own, so I know what it is like.&amp;nbsp; I always had a good work ethic and the ability to get jobs pretty easily.&amp;nbsp; My nephew does not share those characteristics with me.&amp;nbsp; I will&amp;nbsp; reach out to him and do what&amp;nbsp; I can.&amp;nbsp; Unfortunately, he stole from us when he was last at our house so staying with us, even as respite is not an option.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-6932012241831900375?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/6932012241831900375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=6932012241831900375' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6932012241831900375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6932012241831900375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/12/make-me-sad.html' title='Make me sad?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5273798995134290476</id><published>2010-12-27T07:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T07:57:34.463-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Plowing with an antique</title><content type='html'>Last night we received about eight inches of heavy, wind-blown snow.&amp;nbsp; This morning, I plowed out my driveway as well as my neighbors.&amp;nbsp; J helped me out and we had it done in an hour or so.&amp;nbsp; It is so nice to plow instead of snow-blowing.&amp;nbsp; I also enjoy running my 37 year-old jeep even though it can be a pain such as when the windshield wipers stopped working this morning.&amp;nbsp; I really wish I had the hard top for it as well.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp; don't mind the cold, but it can be tough to see when the wind is blowing snow in my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I became irritable during&amp;nbsp; the snow removal process and I need to really work on controlling my emotions when I am working with J.&amp;nbsp; He is really a great help, but I can't seem to help getting annoyed at every little thing he does.&amp;nbsp; Saturday, at my in-laws Christmas party, I had more then one person remark how much J had changed for the better.&amp;nbsp; I am very proud of him.&amp;nbsp; I certainly wish more for him in terms of his career and some of his decision making...&amp;nbsp; But I feel really good about the man he has become.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5273798995134290476?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5273798995134290476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5273798995134290476' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5273798995134290476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5273798995134290476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/12/plowing-with-antique.html' title='Plowing with an antique'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3439056069091666502</id><published>2010-12-26T08:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-26T08:23:19.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'>D's Christmas Card</title><content type='html'>Dear D,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Recently, I had the opportunity to share some thoughts about how a  married couple maintains a loving, lasting relationship.&amp;nbsp; As I began to  think about my response, it occurred to me that I might not be able to  offer the best advice, because I had the incredible fortune to marry an  exceptional woman.&amp;nbsp; Not a day goes by that I don't consider how you love  me unconditionally, through good times and bad; sometimes when I do not  deserve such fidelity.&amp;nbsp; You are my best friend and a pillar of support  without whom I would most assuredly be less of a man then I am today.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dirk&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3439056069091666502?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3439056069091666502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3439056069091666502' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3439056069091666502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3439056069091666502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/12/ds-christmas-card.html' title='D&apos;s Christmas Card'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-6560957488165328685</id><published>2010-12-24T09:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T09:46:47.069-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Going senile?</title><content type='html'>It is Christmas Eve morning and I am sitting at my old coffee shop as my regular source for morning caffeine is completely full.&amp;nbsp; I just picked up my truck after a $450 repair that resulted from a foolish mistake on my part.&amp;nbsp; This mistake has me concerned about my cognitive reasoning abilities and I wonder if I am getting a glimpse into my future decision-making.&amp;nbsp; In other words, am I losing my mind?&amp;nbsp; Oh well, I just have to pay more attention to what I am doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am heading to work after my coffee.&amp;nbsp; B's tuition apparently does not recognize the birth of Jesus Christ and still&amp;nbsp; must be paid even though it is going to a Catholic college.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Holidays Everyone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-6560957488165328685?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/6560957488165328685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=6560957488165328685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6560957488165328685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6560957488165328685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/12/going-senile.html' title='Going senile?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-4179470814560522053</id><published>2010-12-20T08:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T08:18:33.786-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's cold  outside</title><content type='html'>I grew up in an old house that was very drafty with a cranky heating system that would distribute warm air to the first floor.&amp;nbsp; We had no heat on the second and third floors and I can remember many a night when I could see my breath in the hazy glow of the lone light bulb dangling from my ceiling.&amp;nbsp; Often, when I could bear the cold no longer, I would softly creep downstairs with a blanket and pillow to lay on the one heat register, located in the front hallway, that would push warm air up the stairway to the second floor.&amp;nbsp; Basking in the warmth of the oil-fired heater, I would&amp;nbsp; fall into a blissful slumber until the grate of the register would heat up, causing me to wake up in a fright.&amp;nbsp; Feeling guilty about impeding the flow of warmth to the rest of my family, I would stumble back to bed, pull the mound of sheets and covers up over my head, and attempt to stay warm for the rest of the night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-4179470814560522053?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/4179470814560522053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=4179470814560522053' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4179470814560522053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4179470814560522053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/12/its-cold-outside.html' title='It&apos;s cold  outside'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-7192607359920350627</id><published>2010-12-17T08:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-17T08:56:43.340-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Some good, some not so good...</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I picked up B at school and now he will be home with us for almost a month.&amp;nbsp; It was great to spend some time with him.&amp;nbsp; He said that finals went well and his overall grades are very good.&amp;nbsp; We talked a bit about graduate school.&amp;nbsp; I think his current school choices are a bit low, but I suspect he will become more ambitious as he works his way through undergrad studies.&amp;nbsp; I am constantly amazed that someone with my background raised a child that might one day earn the honor of being called "Doctor". &amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my way to pick up B, I met my 19 year-old nephew C for coffee and spent a couple of hours with him.&amp;nbsp; He recently spent three days in jail and is now trying to get his life back on track.&amp;nbsp; He has a severe drug problem but claims that he is currently clean.&amp;nbsp; He looks horrible and I can see that he is struggling physically and emotionally.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp; hope that our conversation was helpful; he said it was.&amp;nbsp; His Dad has some major control issues and I can see&amp;nbsp; the emotional scarring he has left on the boy.&amp;nbsp; I told him to keep reaching out to his Dad and to try not battle with him so much.&amp;nbsp; I wish I could do more...&amp;nbsp; I think J and I are going to go to a snowmobile race with C and his dad.&amp;nbsp; I am convinced that parents have to spend time with their kids, especially teens, away from home where the control wars are less intense and the child is on a more equal footing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-7192607359920350627?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/7192607359920350627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=7192607359920350627' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7192607359920350627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7192607359920350627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/12/some-good-some-not-so-good.html' title='Some good, some not so good...'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8489506442428073556</id><published>2010-12-15T09:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T09:11:45.926-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bet, Check or  Fold</title><content type='html'>If I just start typing, an idea for an update will pop into my head...&amp;nbsp; Waiting... Any time now... Hmmmmm.... I have lots of idea's, but they either suck, or I have whined about them enough already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there is this one issue...&amp;nbsp; The other day at work, I overheard a discussion in the cube next to me.&amp;nbsp; An employee that I know pretty well was inviting a new employee to a regular poker game.&amp;nbsp; I, have never been invited to this poker game.&amp;nbsp; I have previously talked to a friend of mine (who worked for this client briefly) about my relationship with the employees at this firm, and he said that everyone viewed me as "important" or "executive".&amp;nbsp; I never really saw myself as "important", at this company, just a mid-level IT guy trying&amp;nbsp; to keep all the systems working.&amp;nbsp; So now I am wondering (again) how the people I work with at this company perceive me.&amp;nbsp; I thought I was friends with the poker-playing dude, but yet I was not invited to his game.&amp;nbsp; I am not completely distraught over this, but I am more then a bit curious.&amp;nbsp; Years ago I would have taken this very hard, as a sign that I was not "likable".&amp;nbsp; But I know that is not the case.&amp;nbsp; I would like to know why I am not invited to the game though...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8489506442428073556?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8489506442428073556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8489506442428073556' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8489506442428073556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8489506442428073556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/12/bet-check-or-fold.html' title='Bet, Check or  Fold'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5333755771173212303</id><published>2010-12-13T08:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-13T08:22:30.486-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gimme Snow!</title><content type='html'>I know I am in&amp;nbsp; the extreme minority, but this weather sucks!&amp;nbsp; It is currently 50 degrees and we could see 60 today!&amp;nbsp; Saturday, J and I drove three hours to East Burke VT to watch a snowmobile snocross race.&amp;nbsp; It was nice to be immersed in 20 degree temps and over a foot of snow on the ground.&amp;nbsp; Hanging with J for the day was pretty cool as well.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I had my annual pilgrimage to my Dad's house to celebrate Christmas.&amp;nbsp; The day was uneventful, other then my pseudo-stepbrother telling me that his wife was leaving him.&amp;nbsp; That sucks...&amp;nbsp; I don't feel emotionally wrenched though as is usually the case when I spend time with my Dad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5333755771173212303?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5333755771173212303/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5333755771173212303' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5333755771173212303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5333755771173212303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/12/gimme-snow.html' title='Gimme Snow!'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8454782884168463821</id><published>2010-12-10T08:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-10T08:35:06.517-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Test rider</title><content type='html'>I&amp;nbsp; spent close to an hour this past weekend trying to calibrate the two digital thermometers I have at home.&amp;nbsp; Today I was rewarded for my effort as both units displayed the same temperature...&amp;nbsp; 7 degrees Fahrenheit.&amp;nbsp; Add a slight breeze and we are close to zero.&amp;nbsp; Tomorrow I am going to a snowmobile snocross race with J in Burke Mountain VT.&amp;nbsp; I think it is safe to say that winter is upon us and it is only a matter of time till we get our first significant snowfall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I was telling D that I have no memories of celebrating Christmas during my childhood.&amp;nbsp; I do recall one Christmas morning where my primary concern was attempting a test ride of my little bmx bike that I had spent many, many hours repairing.&amp;nbsp; We were not a family of means, so I had to build all my bikes from parts that I scrounged or purchased with my paper route money.&amp;nbsp; This particular Christmas Eve, we received eighteen inches of snow, so my parents would not let me ride my bike on the freshly plowed roads.&amp;nbsp; With great anticipation I pushed and pulled it through snowdrifts and plow banks, over to the local synagogue parking lot, located a couple of blocks from our house&amp;nbsp; Using a trash barrel, I cleared a short little track for my test ride.&amp;nbsp; The bike worked well and that is what I remember about Christmas that year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8454782884168463821?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8454782884168463821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8454782884168463821' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8454782884168463821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8454782884168463821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/12/test-rider.html' title='Test rider'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3342295662995368339</id><published>2010-12-08T08:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T08:15:55.552-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Inspire me</title><content type='html'>Lately, writing has been difficult and I often sit staring at the laptop screen blankly, my fingers poised on the keyboard, my mind searching for some inspiration.&amp;nbsp; Today I went back and looked at my blog entries from three years ago hoping to stimulate my creative juices.&amp;nbsp; I find it interesting that while my circumstances have changed, my current daily thoughts are more or less the same as they were three years ago.&amp;nbsp; I no longer suffer from severe depression, my finances are stable, I have addressed my issues with the IRS, I am able to pay B's tuition and my family is doing well.&amp;nbsp; Now I am just a bit bored.&amp;nbsp; I am seriously considering starting a new cadet unit working with the USMC reserve company.&amp;nbsp; I know that I will introduce a major amount of stress into my life but maybe that is a good thing.&amp;nbsp; I have come to the realization that stress is not necessarily bad; it depends on how we react to it.&amp;nbsp; I would be doing a great thing for a group of kids and I would be doing what I love.&amp;nbsp; Hehehe...&amp;nbsp; Famous last words?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3342295662995368339?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3342295662995368339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3342295662995368339' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3342295662995368339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3342295662995368339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/12/inspire-me.html' title='Inspire me'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-4436435920760541580</id><published>2010-12-07T08:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-07T08:49:23.515-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Imagine</title><content type='html'>Throreau said you should "Live the life you've imagined."&amp;nbsp; When I was growing up, I really did not have a vision for my adult life.&amp;nbsp; I was very disconnected from my family and most of my childhood revolved around coping with trauma.&amp;nbsp; As I grew older, I began to imagine myself as a "good" man focused on family, community and career.&amp;nbsp; I think many would agree that I have realized my dream of living as a "good" man, but now I imagine something more.&amp;nbsp; My realm of possibility has expanded, but remains confined within present-day boundaries.&amp;nbsp; The barriers inhibiting the realization of my upgraded imagination are many, but start with the uncertainty of what I really want, and the obligation to pay for B's college tuition.&amp;nbsp; So I probably will not be going to Kampala Uganda to help the residents with their water and sewer problems.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now that I have ruled out Africa as the land of my future endeavors, where should I focus my talent and energy?&amp;nbsp; Most would say I should grow my business.&amp;nbsp; There is definitely a significant value to financial stability.&amp;nbsp; But look at all the hard-working people that scrimped and saved so they could invest for their future.&amp;nbsp; In an instant, many lost more then half of their savings.&amp;nbsp; And what did they give up to accumulate their wealth?&amp;nbsp; Clearly I need&amp;nbsp; to strike a balance between finances and "living" life.&amp;nbsp; I guess I will have to help the Ugandans in my spare time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-4436435920760541580?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/4436435920760541580/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=4436435920760541580' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4436435920760541580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4436435920760541580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/12/imagine.html' title='Imagine'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-7739494680302174174</id><published>2010-11-29T08:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T08:51:08.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trim the tree</title><content type='html'>This year we purchased a real tree on which we hung a massive number of ornaments that we have accumulated over the years.&amp;nbsp; It is a family tradition for the D, B, J and me to decorate the tree together.&amp;nbsp; However, I have never experienced a year where I was lucky enough experience a happy mood concurrent with our adornment festivities.&amp;nbsp; This year was no different but at least I was not in a bad mood.&amp;nbsp; I have to wonder if I did not experience some event in my childhood that causes me to struggle with my mood during the holiday season.&amp;nbsp; I seem to have an especially difficult time decorating the tree and I can't think of any good reason why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been writing bits and pieces of my screenplay.&amp;nbsp; Coincidentally, D and I had breakfast Friday at the exact restaurant I was thinking of when I imagined meeting the fictional object of my desire.&amp;nbsp; I actually looked into the kitchen a few times to see if there might be a woman&amp;nbsp; that resembled my character. &amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-7739494680302174174?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/7739494680302174174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=7739494680302174174' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7739494680302174174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7739494680302174174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/11/trim-tree.html' title='Trim the tree'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3423659214235047114</id><published>2010-11-23T09:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T09:34:48.628-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The next Spielberg?</title><content type='html'>I have this new morning routine that I think I am going to like.&amp;nbsp; I get up at 5:00, take J to work, then go to the office for 6:00.&amp;nbsp; I work a couple of hours before heading out for coffee.&amp;nbsp; I like getting to the coffee shop a little later as I am more likely to run into people that I know.&amp;nbsp; Plus, the first few hours at work are generally very productive and I can watch a movie while I work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been thinking more seriously about writing a short screen play.&amp;nbsp; The quality of my writing is very poor, but that doesn't really matter when your writing character dialogue.&amp;nbsp; I am very attracted to dark, gritty, off-beat movies with unexpected endings. This morning I watched "The Good Heart" on Netflix and I was completely blown away.&amp;nbsp; This was one of the best movies I have ever seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been considering writing a movie about a middle-aged, reasonably successful man, with a tragic past, that works his way through some very difficult experiences and ultimately learns how to elicit a modicum of satisfaction from life.&amp;nbsp; Armed with a new-found confidence, he finds himself exploring many new things including relationships with woman other then his wife.&amp;nbsp; He ultimately turns his life upside down, giving up everything that is important to him, believing he has found his soul mate.&amp;nbsp; His new found soul mate is a strong-willed, man-hating, unpredictable lesbian in her late twenties, also with a tragic past, covered in tattoos and piercings with a biting sarcasm and nasty outlook on life.&amp;nbsp; She slings hash at a popular breakfast spot and plots to sleep with the man to prove to her girlfriend that she is a true lesbian (it's complicated).&amp;nbsp; When the man declines her invitation for sex, (attempting to remain faithful) but offers an intimate, but platonic friendship, she agrees, hoping that she will ultimately prove her true sexual orientation to her female partner.&amp;nbsp; They agree that they will be 100% honest with each other about EVERYTHING, hold nothing back, no white lies: "Yes, you look fat in that dress" kind of honesty.&amp;nbsp; What follows is a roller-coaster of a relationship that ultimately results in a passion-filled, tumultuous, albeit confused sexual encounter (think "Unfaithful") in the restaurant kitchen that is interrupted by her soon-to-be ex-partner. Following, he leaves his wife, she leaves her partner and they both move to a seedy loft in the city where they attempt to make a life together. I won't tell you the ending, but remember that I don't like the audience leaving happy.&amp;nbsp; Fuck them...&amp;nbsp; It is my movie, not theirs...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3423659214235047114?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3423659214235047114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3423659214235047114' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3423659214235047114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3423659214235047114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/11/next-spielberg.html' title='The next Spielberg?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8820157836404715842</id><published>2010-11-22T07:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-22T07:52:15.270-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Responsibility</title><content type='html'>This past weekend was a short one as I worked Saturday.&amp;nbsp; Sunday, J and I worked on removing an engine from a donor Trans Am that is destined for my Jeep.&amp;nbsp; We got along well and&amp;nbsp; it was a productive day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately I have been thinking a lot about the situation between my sister and our father.&amp;nbsp; My sisters mental health is not improving and I don't expect it will unless she can reconcile with her past.&amp;nbsp; I am considering embarking on a quest that will ultimately result in her meeting with our father to confront him for the purpose of resolving her trauma.&amp;nbsp; I am personally struggling with my relationship with my father because I hold him responsible for my sisters condition.&amp;nbsp; I believe that he committed a horrible deed&amp;nbsp; for which&amp;nbsp; he has never accepted the responsibility and or consequences.&amp;nbsp; Lately I have been somewhat obsessed with the question "What if he didn't do what he has been accused of"?&amp;nbsp; I think that it is time that I talk with him directly, without the cloak of vagueness.&amp;nbsp; But then I will have to deal with the consequences of his response.&amp;nbsp; What if he admits it?&amp;nbsp; What then is my responsibility?&amp;nbsp; It would appear that avoiding the entire issue is the easier path; however, as I have stated&amp;nbsp; previously, with wisdom comes responsibility.&amp;nbsp; I know the right thing to do...&amp;nbsp; I am just afraid of the consequences.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8820157836404715842?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8820157836404715842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8820157836404715842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8820157836404715842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8820157836404715842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/11/responsibility.html' title='Responsibility'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-2567679812186416648</id><published>2010-11-19T07:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-19T07:35:37.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>He's back</title><content type='html'>Wednesday night, J came home and had supper with D and I.&amp;nbsp; We talked through the events on Saturday and J said that his outburst was a result of a mental breakdown.&amp;nbsp; I told him that I appreciated his apology, we hugged and then he went downstairs to his room.&amp;nbsp; The next morning I took him to work and we seem to be back into our routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-2567679812186416648?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/2567679812186416648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=2567679812186416648' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2567679812186416648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2567679812186416648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/11/hes-back.html' title='He&apos;s back'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3017578984956575111</id><published>2010-11-15T08:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T08:54:40.271-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shaken faith?</title><content type='html'>This past weekend stands in stark contrast to my recently renewed faith.&amp;nbsp; Saturday morning, I very nearly had a physical altercation with J, and I spent the rest of the weekend in Clickerville as a result.&amp;nbsp; "J, why were you using the tool bag that I keep in my truck?" I&amp;nbsp; asked him as he sat down to breakfast.&amp;nbsp; "Sorry Dad, I needed a socket" he replied without looking up.&amp;nbsp; "But I have asked you to not to use the tools in that bag" I said.&amp;nbsp; "Whatever Dad" he replied in a tone that indicated that he could not care less.&amp;nbsp; "What the hell" I said my voice starting to rise in pitch.&amp;nbsp; "Am I not allowed to have stuff that I can call my own that you won't leave laying all over the place?".&amp;nbsp; I could feel my temper rising and and I took a deep breath to try and regain my composure.&amp;nbsp; It was no longer about the tools.&amp;nbsp; It was about J's disdain for issues that were important to me.&amp;nbsp; D was attempting to calm the situation and she was clearly becoming very anxious.&amp;nbsp; I walked out of the room to try and calm down.&amp;nbsp; I walked back in and with a controlled tone said "You know Josh, it would be nice if you could at least acknowledge..."&amp;nbsp; "Why are you always in such a pissy mood" he shouted back before I could finish.&amp;nbsp; "What are you talking about" I yelled back.&amp;nbsp; "Can't I say anything when you don't follow the house rules" I continued.&amp;nbsp; I could feel myself losing control largely because I felt like I wasn't able to tell him how I felt about him messing with my personal property.&amp;nbsp; He had open access to all my other tools, most of which he would leave scattered all over the garage and yard.&amp;nbsp; Suddenly he jumped up from his chair and coming towards me yelled "You wanna go at it?"&amp;nbsp; "Fuck you" I screamed.&amp;nbsp; "Let's go" and I quickly stepped in front of him prepared to knock him senseless.&amp;nbsp; D began to cry and plead for us to stop and that caused me to pause for a moment and I just stood there.&amp;nbsp; "Get out" I said.&amp;nbsp; "Get the fuck out of my house".&amp;nbsp; My heart was racing and my fists were clenched.&amp;nbsp; J stepped back and turned to go downstairs screaming at me as he went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is three days later and he has not come back yet, but I know he will.&amp;nbsp; I am not sure how I am going to deal with this.&amp;nbsp; I am tired of giving to him and getting only shit in return.&amp;nbsp; I will likely let him stay, but our relationship is seriously damaged.&amp;nbsp; I can handle everything except the physical threatening.&amp;nbsp; In some ways I am less concerned with his provocation then my response and what I might have done.&amp;nbsp; The last time I had physical altercation with him, it was a result of my decision to put him to the floor and remind him who the alpha male was.&amp;nbsp; At that point, he was out of control, lying, stealing and extremely defiant.&amp;nbsp; My only choices were to regain control of him or let the State deal with him.&amp;nbsp; I chose the former which was one of the most difficult decisions I have ever made, as the son of physically abusive parents.&amp;nbsp; This time was different though...&amp;nbsp; This time my response would have been the result of anger, not a well thought out, purposeful strategy to regain control of my son.&amp;nbsp; I don't feel real good about myself right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3017578984956575111?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3017578984956575111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3017578984956575111' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3017578984956575111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3017578984956575111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/11/shaken-faith.html' title='Shaken faith?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3432102925162671779</id><published>2010-11-11T06:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T06:47:11.704-05:00</updated><title type='text'>OMG!  Life is good?</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a good day.&amp;nbsp; I think I was actually happy!&amp;nbsp; Imagine that...&amp;nbsp; I have been stressed out for the past few days preparing for an important presentation.&amp;nbsp; Yesterday I bought lunch for twenty or so of my client's employees and demonstrated a new document management system I have been building for them.&amp;nbsp; The presentation went very well and I was rewarded with a tremendous sense of relief! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Following the meeting, I jumped in my car and drove over to B's college to pick him up for an appointment with his doctor.&amp;nbsp; We were able to spend the entire afternoon together and we really enjoyed each others company.&amp;nbsp; I was actually laughing and joking with him and when I dropped him off, he gave me a great hug and thanked me for everything. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been praying a lot lately.&amp;nbsp; I mostly pray for a good mood, increased motivation, better discipline and for others in need.&amp;nbsp; Yesterday I felt like I was able to actually talk with God.&amp;nbsp; Maybe I am just a lunatic lost in Darwin's world, but it felt really, really good.&amp;nbsp; Like everyone else, I struggle with the overwhelming evidence that there is no God, but I know that since I started praying, my life has gotten much better.&amp;nbsp; Perhaps it is a delusional placebo affect; but even if it is, I will take it.&amp;nbsp; The true challenge to my faith will come when I face the inevitable crisis and or tragedy that will cause me to shout "How can a just God allow me to suffer like this?".&amp;nbsp; Perhaps I will even gnash my teeth...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3432102925162671779?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3432102925162671779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3432102925162671779' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3432102925162671779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3432102925162671779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/11/omg-life-is-good.html' title='OMG!  Life is good?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-4439634034533198620</id><published>2010-11-10T07:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T07:40:24.179-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>Relief</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;I heard back from the IRS today and it appears that I will be able to pay my back taxes over a period of five years.&amp;nbsp; I am relieved that I will finally put this behind me as this issue has been an overarching source of anxiety for too many years.&amp;nbsp; Now I have to focus on building my business so I can pay off this debt and start saving for retirement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-4439634034533198620?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/4439634034533198620/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=4439634034533198620' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4439634034533198620'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4439634034533198620'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/11/relief.html' title='Relief'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-7637424875035218991</id><published>2010-11-08T08:07:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T08:07:49.089-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Brotherly love</title><content type='html'>"I am sorry that I have not been a better brother.&amp;nbsp; I feel your desire to be closer, and I have not given our relationship the importance it deserves" I told my sister D Saturday night.&amp;nbsp; I was dropping her off at her house after we went to visit our sister R who is recovering from a shattered ankle at a rehab hospital.&amp;nbsp; She looked at me for a moment then turned away saying "It is ok D, we are all busy.&amp;nbsp; I thought you were mad at me over the situation with S (our brother)"&amp;nbsp; she continued.&amp;nbsp; "No" I replied.&amp;nbsp; "I don't know all the details and you were not the one that had him sent to state prison (as a sixteen year old boy)".&amp;nbsp; My brother never recovered from that incarceration.&amp;nbsp; I can only imagine the horrors he had to endure.&amp;nbsp; "The reason why I have not been there for you is because whenever I was around family I became very anxious and depressed.&amp;nbsp; It had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with my childhood and our fucked up family" I continued.&amp;nbsp; "But I will do better moving forward.&amp;nbsp; I will make our relationship a priority".&amp;nbsp; "Great" D replied.&amp;nbsp; I reached out and gave her a hug.&amp;nbsp; Goodnight R, I mean D" I said.&amp;nbsp; "Hey" she replied with a with a concerned look...&amp;nbsp; I too wondered why I had called her R.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I often cannot believe the degree of success I have achieved given that my life reads like "The Prince of Tides" screenplay.&amp;nbsp; With that success though, I feel this keen sense of responsibility that leads to a intense level of guilt.&amp;nbsp; Am I "earning" this?&amp;nbsp; I spend a lot of time helping others...&amp;nbsp; Are my motives pure or am I simply trying to relieve my guilt?&amp;nbsp; Does it really matter?&amp;nbsp; Is enough just to do good?&amp;nbsp; Is is necessary that my motives are pure?&amp;nbsp; One thing I know; I have changed the lives of many people and that can't be a bad thing.&amp;nbsp; And, it helps me feel good about myself.&amp;nbsp; That&amp;nbsp; is definitely not a bad thing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-7637424875035218991?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/7637424875035218991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=7637424875035218991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7637424875035218991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/7637424875035218991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/11/brotherly-love.html' title='Brotherly love'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-8067175381630905198</id><published>2010-11-03T11:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T11:11:22.031-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Death and taxes</title><content type='html'>The tax man paid us a visit recently.&amp;nbsp; I am actually a bit relieved, because now I am forced to tackle this issue head on and resolve it once and for all.&amp;nbsp; I am hopeful that we can negotiate a reasonable payment plan that will allow me to continue B's tuition payments.&amp;nbsp; I wish I had dealt with this earlier; hopefully I will learn from this experience and exercise more responsibility in the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-8067175381630905198?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/8067175381630905198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=8067175381630905198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8067175381630905198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/8067175381630905198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/11/death-and-taxes.html' title='Death and taxes'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5720080597454539374</id><published>2010-11-01T08:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T08:12:01.380-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Another season</title><content type='html'>It is a cold day in the town square this morning.&amp;nbsp; A&amp;nbsp; brisk wind is  blowing out of the East, rustling the few remaining dull yellow leaves clinging  tenaciously to the maple tree in front of the coffee shop.&amp;nbsp; The faded  green patio chairs and tables, all arranged in neat rows on the sidewalk, sit  unused as all the tourists have gone home and the regulars have moved  inside where we sip our coffee while staring out the large pane glass windows, longing for the warm  summer mornings of which we shall see no more.&amp;nbsp; A flock of Canadian  geese flies overhead in a v formation heading South for warmer climates.&amp;nbsp; Winter is coming.&amp;nbsp; Time is running out to prepare for the onslaught of the biting wind and drifting snow.&amp;nbsp; Put away the garden house, tighten down the pool cover and put away the lawn chairs.&amp;nbsp; It is time to rummage through the attic and gather boots, hats, coats and mittens.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5720080597454539374?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5720080597454539374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5720080597454539374' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5720080597454539374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5720080597454539374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/11/another-season.html' title='Another season'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3473733074293464231</id><published>2010-10-27T09:11:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-27T09:11:54.313-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>Erotic dentistry</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;This morning I had my teeth cleaned by an attractive young lady and I think she enjoyed pressing her firm breasts into my head while she wielded her various tools of dentistry.&amp;nbsp; I can tell you that the resulting fantasies made the appointment go by very quickly.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Yesterday, after completing my blog update, a gentlemen I recently met at church sat down with me at the coffee shop.&amp;nbsp; He proceeded to tell me about how difficult his life has been as a 49 year old, having been recently divorced, with no kids, but still wanting a family.&amp;nbsp; I listened with an empathetic ear and tried to keep my advice to a minimum.&amp;nbsp; He seemed to be happy about talking with me.&amp;nbsp; Afterward, I was lucky enough to enjoy a great mood.&amp;nbsp; Hmmm...&amp;nbsp; Interesting...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3473733074293464231?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3473733074293464231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3473733074293464231' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3473733074293464231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3473733074293464231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/10/erotic-dentistry.html' title='Erotic dentistry'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-2347888019338025481</id><published>2010-10-26T09:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-26T09:03:14.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Is good the new great?</title><content type='html'>Today&amp;nbsp; I feel good...&amp;nbsp; Yesterday I felt good...&amp;nbsp; Tomorrow I will probably feel good...&amp;nbsp; Lucky me.&amp;nbsp; I sometimes wonder what it would be like to suffer from bipolar disorder because I often pine for that manic feeling of euphoria and all the energy that does with it.&amp;nbsp; Instead, I just plod along, feeling "ok", waiting for that elusive, fleeting moment when my neurotransmitters give me an extra dose of joy.&amp;nbsp; Don't get me wrong, I am happy that I now feel good.&amp;nbsp; Feeling good is an excellent alternative to contemplating the "best" way to kill myself.&amp;nbsp; Definitely an improvement.&amp;nbsp; But is it unrealistic to want to feel great?&amp;nbsp; How does one get from "good' to "great"?&amp;nbsp; I do all the right things; eat well, exercise, act selflessly, follow the commandments...&amp;nbsp; But, I don't really do it with all my heart.&amp;nbsp; Maybe I am just not trying hard enough.&amp;nbsp; I am so tired though...&amp;nbsp; It is so much easier to just get by.&amp;nbsp; Perhaps I should listen to St. Paul when he says "&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-2347888019338025481?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/2347888019338025481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=2347888019338025481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2347888019338025481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2347888019338025481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/10/is-good-new-great.html' title='Is good the new great?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3244066473580818392</id><published>2010-10-25T08:15:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T08:15:32.514-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>Family Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;Saturday, D and I spent the day with B as part of family weekend at his school.&amp;nbsp; We had a wonderful time and the day was over much too quickly.&amp;nbsp; He is such a great kid. I feel incredibly fortunate to be has Dad.&amp;nbsp; He walked us through his average day taking us to all his classrooms.&amp;nbsp; "I always sit in the front row because studies have shown that 70% of students that do so get higher grades" he said as he walked us around the campus.&amp;nbsp; "I am so proud of you" I said later as we ate lunch in the dining hall.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;The college sponsored a 5k Saturday morning and all that separated me from winning it was a very lean, 19 year old student that passed me right at the finish.&amp;nbsp; I was happy with second, but wish I had kicked it a couple hundred feet earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3244066473580818392?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3244066473580818392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3244066473580818392' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3244066473580818392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3244066473580818392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/10/family-day.html' title='Family Day'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5896416717310759701</id><published>2010-10-22T08:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-22T08:40:42.612-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Raising B</title><content type='html'>Wednesday morning, B called to tell me that he wanted to transfer from his current college to the local university that many of his friends attend.&amp;nbsp; He also told me that he was not making many friends and his new college girlfriend had allegedly gotten drunk, and slept with someone else.&amp;nbsp; I listened patiently with great empathy as he poured out his feelings.&amp;nbsp; When he finished, I told him that I would support whatever decision he made, but he should think about a few things.&amp;nbsp; Most importantly, he could not simply run away from all the problems he was dealing with at school.&amp;nbsp; If he did transfer, he would simply trade his current difficulties for new ones, as well as some old ones.&amp;nbsp; I also asked him to think about whether he was actively trying to make friends or was he simply relying on the cross country team for friendships (which was not going as well as he expected).&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;When B first started high school, he hung out with a crowd of kids that were not highly motivated.&amp;nbsp; Over time, he built relationships with other kids, many of which were jocks and academics.&amp;nbsp; It was a painful process, but B persisted and now has a group of friends that are highly motivated and will likely succeed at whatever they choose to pursue.&amp;nbsp; Clearly he misses those friendships, but I reminded him that he was not in high school anymore.&amp;nbsp; He would have to make some effort to build new friendships. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me that he was going to talk with his coach and some friends and he would let me know what he had decided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I spoke with B and he told me he decided to stay and would not be transferring.&amp;nbsp; He had spoken with a high school friend who, like B, was attending a college some distance from home and was having&amp;nbsp; similar difficulties.&amp;nbsp; Unlike me (as B's father), his friend was brutally honest and said, "B, if you transfer just because you want to be with your friends, your a fucking moron". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow we are going to B's school for parents weekend.&amp;nbsp; I can't wait to see him!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5896416717310759701?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5896416717310759701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5896416717310759701' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5896416717310759701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5896416717310759701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/10/raising-b.html' title='Raising B'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-4366768918980062553</id><published>2010-10-19T09:07:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-19T09:07:15.086-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>Rolling around</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;Saturday I took a friend to play Murderball at the local university.&amp;nbsp; He has cerebral palsy and is confined to a wheelchair.&amp;nbsp; I enjoyed watching the game and he definitely enjoyed playing, although he was very tired, sore and somewhat bruised by the end of the practice.&amp;nbsp; It was interesting hanging out with 20 or so people that move around via wheelchairs.&amp;nbsp; I immediately wanted to dive in and work as a volunteer.&amp;nbsp; I did help out with a few mechanical issues, but spent most of my time talking with a nice young lady from Connecticut.&amp;nbsp; She told me all about her life as a second generation Armenian.&amp;nbsp; Her sister has muscular dystrophy and has been in a wheel chair since she was a child.&amp;nbsp; She weighs all of 87 pounds but relentlessly smashed into the competitors wheelchairs with the best of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-4366768918980062553?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/4366768918980062553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=4366768918980062553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4366768918980062553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4366768918980062553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/10/rolling-around.html' title='Rolling around'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-1836916410355270980</id><published>2010-10-09T10:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-09T10:52:09.133-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Random thoughts</title><content type='html'>This morning I am blatantely fucking off.&amp;nbsp; First I lazed around the house till 10:00, then I took the jeep to the coffee shop located in the college town a few minutes from my house.&amp;nbsp; Now I am sitting outside, drinking my latte, squinting my eyes in the bright sun trying to read my laptop screen.&amp;nbsp; It is homecoming weekend at the U, so the town is crawling with alumni.&amp;nbsp; I was lucky to get a table outside.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B is coming home this weekend.&amp;nbsp; I hope we can do something together while he is here. I still miss him very much.&amp;nbsp; I am somewhat living vicariously through him, but he does not share a lot of details about school other then cross country.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I had attended college.&amp;nbsp; It would be nice to have a bit more knowledge, but mostly, I would have enjoyed the experience. I have friends, but I don't really "belong" to anything.&amp;nbsp; Unfortunately, I often abandon opportunities to "belong" to something when I become deeply depressed and my insecurities overpower rational thought.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-1836916410355270980?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/1836916410355270980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=1836916410355270980' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1836916410355270980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1836916410355270980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/10/random-thoughts.html' title='Random thoughts'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-5047625856872534202</id><published>2010-10-04T09:01:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-04T09:01:57.039-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Now what?</title><content type='html'>It was a crisp clear Fall day and I had driven my jeep to the town square to see my good friend preach.&amp;nbsp; The church services are held in an historic church known for its spectacular, recently restored steeple.&amp;nbsp; The interior of the sanctuary is simple, but beautiful, free of all the gold, bronze and silver adornments many other churches display like so many trophies.&amp;nbsp; After an hour of singing and reading from the Good Book, my friend picked up the microphone and began his sermon.&amp;nbsp; "I'm going to ask a question, that for many of you, will change your lives."&amp;nbsp; The young preacher paused for a moment, scanning his audience.&amp;nbsp; Until recently, this young man had worked for me as computer technician.&amp;nbsp; Now he was living his dream of spreading the word of God.&amp;nbsp; He lowered the microphone and rubbed his hand across his closely cropped blond beard waiting for the tension to build.&amp;nbsp; He was a powerful speaker and had us on the edges of our seats waiting for the question.&amp;nbsp; He took a breath, and then with slow, but deliberate tones asked "What would you do, if you knew you couldn't fail?"&amp;nbsp; He paused then said&amp;nbsp; "I want you to write your answer down on the paper provided" he continued.&amp;nbsp; I was already writing as he continued on because I have always known my dream.&amp;nbsp; "Build a HOME for young adults in need"&amp;nbsp; I scrawled across the paper.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now it is written...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-5047625856872534202?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/5047625856872534202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=5047625856872534202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5047625856872534202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/5047625856872534202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/10/now-what.html' title='Now what?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-903182276298696211</id><published>2010-10-03T10:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-03T10:38:09.605-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life without kids</title><content type='html'>Friday night D and I went out to see the Mark Zuckerberg flick. I though it was pretty good.&amp;nbsp; I especially enjoyed posting "I am at the Facebook movie facebooking about being at the Facebook move".&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Yesterday we closed up my in-laws camp then went to the fair to watch the huss pullin'.&amp;nbsp; Call me lame, but I enjoy watching men and woman compete in such pure and ancient sport.&amp;nbsp; This morning we hung out in bed for a bit watching Under the Tuscan Sun.&amp;nbsp; It reminded me that it is easy to forget where you are, when your focused&amp;nbsp; on where your going. D and I have been spending a lot of time together since B went off to college.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been finding and talking with old friends via social networking sites like FB and Linkedin.&amp;nbsp; It has been eye-opening to learn how my old friends have done over time; many I have not seen for thirty years or more.&amp;nbsp; Most are divorced and many have not had good luck career-wise.&amp;nbsp; When I compare my life against theirs, I feel incredibly fortunate.&amp;nbsp; Marrying D was the single best thing I have ever done in my life.&amp;nbsp; I can't imagine what my life would be like without her, though I suspect I would have more in common with my old friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-903182276298696211?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/903182276298696211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=903182276298696211' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/903182276298696211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/903182276298696211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/10/life-without-kids.html' title='Life without kids'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-4704114849336228916</id><published>2010-09-30T07:49:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T07:49:40.841-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>Get up!</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;I often feel like most of the passion and zest for life has left my soul and I am just going through the motions of a moderately depressed, but seemingly content person.&amp;nbsp; I yearn for a life-changing event that will propel me forward with enthusiasm and vigor.&amp;nbsp; But sadly (or perhaps thankfully) that will probably not&amp;nbsp; happen.&amp;nbsp; I will have to pick myself up, wipe away the dust, then muster the strength to move forward.&amp;nbsp; That is the way it has always been.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-4704114849336228916?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/4704114849336228916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=4704114849336228916' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4704114849336228916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4704114849336228916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/09/get-up.html' title='Get up!'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-4996330518833509240</id><published>2010-09-27T08:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T08:06:08.162-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Weekend</title><content type='html'>This past weekend was a busy one.&amp;nbsp; Saturday we went down to Boston to watch B's cross country team run.&amp;nbsp; He was not running, but we still wanted to support the team.&amp;nbsp; We were able&amp;nbsp; to talk with him for a few minutes and he seems to be doing well.&amp;nbsp; Following the meet, D and I drove to Castle Island in South Boston and went for a walk around Pleasure Bay.&amp;nbsp; Sunday we had friends over for brunch then closed up our pool. I spent a lot of time cleaning&amp;nbsp; up the garage and yard and I am mightily pleased with the results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much to my surprise, my friend, the CO from the Boston cadet unit was elected Regimental CO commanding approximately 15 units.&amp;nbsp; He had asked me to be his regimental training officer, if he was elected, and I had indicated that I would consider it, never thinking that he would actually win.&amp;nbsp; Now I need to decide if I really want to take this challenge on.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp; may accept the position on a temporary basis with a one year term.&amp;nbsp; This way I would&amp;nbsp; not feel badly about passing the responsibility to someone else in the future.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-4996330518833509240?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/4996330518833509240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=4996330518833509240' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4996330518833509240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/4996330518833509240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/09/weekend.html' title='Weekend'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-372432176781873570</id><published>2010-09-22T08:31:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-22T08:31:52.602-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>Under-achiever?</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;Today I dropped my son of at the state beach for his community service then drove the long way to work; 10 miles north along the coastal route featuring spectacular views of the NH seashore.&amp;nbsp; Of course I am driving my jeep and enjoying every moment of my momentary escape from reality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;Yesterday I looked through some blog entries from a year ago only to discover that my goals have not changed significantly and I have made little progress on them.&amp;nbsp; Over the next week or so I will review my goals and identify specific actionable objectives that will move me from thinking about what I want to realizing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-372432176781873570?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/372432176781873570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=372432176781873570' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/372432176781873570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/372432176781873570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/09/under-achiever.html' title='Under-achiever?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-1175858400323886643</id><published>2010-09-21T07:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-21T07:49:59.022-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spare change?</title><content type='html'>Many experts say that we are motivated by pain or pleasure.&amp;nbsp; I believe that in most cases, pain is a better motivator then pleasure.&amp;nbsp; In my experience it takes immediate, or imminent pain for me to change an unhealthy behavior.&amp;nbsp; I am facing a cataclysmic storm that threatens to drastically alter my way of life because I have been unwilling to take responsibility for my financial future.&amp;nbsp; Apparently I am waiting for someone to take control of my future away from me before I would be willing&amp;nbsp; to get off my fucking ass and deal with the financial mess that I have let build over the years.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp; am better than this...&amp;nbsp; If my kids future (education) is truly important, I will devote the time and energy required to resolve my financial issues.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-1175858400323886643?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/1175858400323886643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=1175858400323886643' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1175858400323886643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1175858400323886643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/09/spare-change.html' title='Spare change?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-6323801608019964769</id><published>2010-09-17T18:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T18:25:41.952-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome Home?</title><content type='html'>"Hi Dad, I am on my way home with Mom" B said to me when I answered the phone.&amp;nbsp; "So what do you have planned for tonight?" I replied.&amp;nbsp; "Did you get me the new Halo game I skyped you about?" he asked.&amp;nbsp; "No" I said with a chuckle.&amp;nbsp; "Then I guess Mom and I will stop and pick it up" he replied.&amp;nbsp; "So your going to be playing your new game tonight" I asked.&amp;nbsp; "Yeah" B replied.&amp;nbsp; "Ok" I said.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I don't need to rush home tonight...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-6323801608019964769?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/6323801608019964769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=6323801608019964769' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6323801608019964769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/6323801608019964769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/09/welcome-home.html' title='Welcome Home?'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-1233546463788568190</id><published>2010-09-17T07:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-17T07:59:48.803-04:00</updated><title type='text'>No Soup for You!</title><content type='html'>"Why don't&amp;nbsp; you come back to bed" I said wiping the sleep from my eyes.&amp;nbsp; "It is too hot" she replied.&amp;nbsp; WTF...&amp;nbsp; So now I am unsuccessfully trying to not let a five second exchange ruin my day.&amp;nbsp; Maybe she didn't understand what I was really saying.&amp;nbsp; No, she did...&amp;nbsp; She just wasn't interested.&amp;nbsp; Whatever...&amp;nbsp; Coupled with the fact that I have purposely not been..... uhmmmmmm.....&amp;nbsp; using the self service lane (faith without deeds is dead), I feel especially frustrated.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;B is coming home tonight!&amp;nbsp; I am very excited to see him.&amp;nbsp; We have seen him a few times at college, but it will be good to have him back at the house.&amp;nbsp; He is doing really well and I am so proud of him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;J, on the other hand, got booted out of his one college class because he apparently went to the wrong one.&amp;nbsp; Same course name, two different rooms and professors.&amp;nbsp; Oh well, he will figure it out.&amp;nbsp; He is talking about transferring to the university, but I know he will have to demonstrate his ability to successfully complete some classes at the community college first.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-1233546463788568190?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/1233546463788568190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=1233546463788568190' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1233546463788568190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1233546463788568190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/09/no-soup-for-you.html' title='No Soup for You!'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-1067084405126283413</id><published>2010-09-16T08:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T08:29:12.395-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>I am glad I was wrong</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;It was a cold ride into town this morning.&amp;nbsp; The thermometer displayed 43 degrees when I left in the jeep.&amp;nbsp; Today I am drinking coffee outside of the chain coffee shop because it faces southeast while the chairs outside my regular java stop remain cold and wet under the shade of the trees and western exposure.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;I have been looking up old friends recently using Facebook and Linked-in and last night I reconnected with a friend I have not seen in 30 years.&amp;nbsp; We talked for three hours and we really enjoyed the conversation.&amp;nbsp; He has been with his wife for 30 plus years and I remember now why we drifted apart.&amp;nbsp; He was my roommate 30 years ago and used to fight with his girlfriend constantly.&amp;nbsp; And she was a major hitch.&amp;nbsp; He asked me if I thought he should stay with her and I said no.&amp;nbsp; Guess I was wrong because he married her and they apparently lived happily ever after.&amp;nbsp; Oops...&amp;nbsp; My bad...&lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-1067084405126283413?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/1067084405126283413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=1067084405126283413' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1067084405126283413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1067084405126283413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/09/i-am-glad-i-was-wrong.html' title='I am glad I was wrong'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-3227927766294842235</id><published>2010-09-10T08:00:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-10T08:00:54.617-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>Faith</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;This morning it feels like Fall in the town square.&amp;nbsp; They are roasting coffee beans at my coffee shop filling the air with the sweet smell of my favorite beverage.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;I am looking up at the beautiful white steeple of the old North Church located directly across the street from the coffee shop.&amp;nbsp; It stands proudly with its new coat of paint framed by a deep blue sky.&amp;nbsp; It reminds me of my ongoing struggle with my faith (or lack of) in God.&amp;nbsp; Lately I have been praying and I do think I am the better for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-3227927766294842235?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/3227927766294842235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=3227927766294842235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3227927766294842235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/3227927766294842235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/09/faith.html' title='Faith'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-1860821892846508318</id><published>2010-08-30T07:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-30T07:44:01.669-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>Boarding</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;Yesterday was a good day up at my in-laws camp.&amp;nbsp; I enjoyed wakeboarding and also spent some time kayaking with D.&amp;nbsp; I was not in a great mood but I still had a good time.&amp;nbsp; Tonight I plan to go fishing with J and my nephew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-1860821892846508318?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/1860821892846508318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=1860821892846508318' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1860821892846508318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/1860821892846508318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/08/boarding.html' title='Boarding'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-888454734409039725</id><published>2010-08-29T09:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T09:20:35.322-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>Least I forget</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;Why is it that I forget pretty much everything, but I can remember the names of my Baristas?&amp;nbsp; I have not seen Jesse in months, but her face lit up with delight when I greeted her by name today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;I am not in the best of moods today but it is getting better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-888454734409039725?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/888454734409039725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=888454734409039725' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/888454734409039725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/888454734409039725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/08/least-i-forget.html' title='Least I forget'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3120802496922708077.post-2582679020347352937</id><published>2010-08-28T09:51:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T09:51:35.397-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='None'/><title type='text'>Busy Dirk</title><content type='html'>&lt;br&gt;It's a busy day in the town square today.&amp;#160; I rarely visit on Saturdays, especially during tourist season.&amp;#160; However, I am working today so I don't mind waiting in line for my latte.&amp;#160; The Blue Angels are in town further adding to the traffic congestion.&amp;#160; &lt;br&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I went out with some kids from the adolescent home then joined D for a fantastic margarita at a downtown restaurant.&amp;#160; Tomorrow I am taking my son and nephew wakeboarding at my in-laws camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br&gt;I miss B...&amp;#160; We have seen him a couple of times since we dropped him off at school but it is tough not having him around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3120802496922708077-2582679020347352937?l=finding-david.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/feeds/2582679020347352937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3120802496922708077&amp;postID=2582679020347352937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2582679020347352937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3120802496922708077/posts/default/2582679020347352937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://finding-david.blogspot.com/2010/08/busy-dirk.html' title='Busy Dirk'/><author><name>Dirk</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08734745794704864534</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_p9De2LQXpsI/SpxBMynkc9I/AAAAAAAAAJo/MpaaROMJ_D8/S220/IMG_0007.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
