It's up to you...

No matter where you go, it is there.

No matter what you do, it is there.

No matter what you feel, it is there.

When you look up, it is there.

When you look down, it is there.

When you feel pain, it is there.

When you are sad, it is there.

When you are joyous, it is there.

When you are happy, it is there.

When you were born, it was there.

When you die, it will be there.

When you look into the eyes of someone you love, it is there.

When you see someone you've hurt, it is there.

It is everywhere, yet it is nowhere.

It is here and it is there.

What is "it"?

It is as simple or complex as you make it. It is unique to the individual. It is special. It is shared. It is lonely, and it is unfair. It is the best of times and the lowest lows. "What is it?", you ask? Everyone knows. Look deep within youself and you, too, will see. It is the very thing that comprises you and me.

Quizically curious...

Today, I sit and wonder what tomorrow will bring. Will tomorrow be a new beginning? Has my new beginning already begun and I just haven't come to terms with it? My heart tells me one thing one minute, in complete unison with my brain. The next minute they are in complete contrast.

I am scared.

I am confused.

I am content and I am anxious.

I am at peace, yet prone to unanticipated termoil.

I am in touch and out of touch.

I am alive.

I feel.

Saints are born to this world human. They are born man and woman. It is what they do with their lives that defines the true specialty of their existance. Humans, you see, are born with one thing that is the greatest gift, or curse, of their very being: free choice. You can see a stranger in need of assitance and choose to do nothing, or you can stop and take the time to help. You can forgive and love again, or you can be bitter and resent someone who may have hurt you. You can make a choice. We do it everyday. We live with it forever. Now, that doesn't seem entirely fair now, does it?

Why didn't we get a manual for this? You get a manual in ten languages when you buy a freaking DVD player! You get a manual to teach you the rules of the road so that you can get your driver's license. You get a manual outlining the company policies when you start a new job. But, a manual for the heart? "You figure it out." You're on your own there partner! Good luck!

Yeah, we make choices everyday. Some are easy and some are hard. The easy ones never bother us. It's those tough decisions....damn, they seem to get you, don't they? "If it was easy, everyone would be doing it."

We live and we learn. We take some pretty hard doses of reality in this crazy roller coaster ride called life, don't we? I, for one, would prefer to learn from other people's mistakes. Makes sense to me, you get to spare yourself the pain and heartache. But, I digress, it is learning from mistakes that can be the single biggest tool in finding true happiness. If you learn from your mistakes you prevent something you did from becoming the defining moment, or action, in who you are. Mistakes can become something you did once, or something that defines you. It's only a lesson if you learn from it. It's up to you and, unfortunately, there isn't a manual to tell you what the next step is. You have to figure that out on your own. Isn't that a hoot?

Free choice is a bitch...

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Life is a test. You take it every day. Success or failure is relative. Whether it is losing or winning, or how you play the game, the ability to look at yourself in the mirror, with your head held high, is a testament to your level of participation. Am I right? Am I wrong? Don't ask me. Only you can answer that question for yourself. Know your limits. Know that you will never know your true limitations. Know that your limitations exceed your perceived limits. Choose wisely, for rarely in life will you be granted a second chance to seize that which you may have left behind. Take advantage of gifts. Don't surrender to charity. Be strong and know when it is OK to be weak. Surrender to love. Let faith guide your soul. But know this: Free will is a gift, so use it wisely...and know when to take a hint.

Happy Fathers Day!

My father has never surfed anything, let alone the internet. He has never seen a blog. He wouldn't even know what a blog was if I told him. He probably thinks a blog is something cured with antibiotics or an old wives tale remedy. Nonetheless, Happy Fathers Day Dad! My Dad is a very cool guy. I hope to grow older with many of the qualities that I see in him. I hope that he is proud of me. I hope that my kids will be as proud of me, as proud to have me as their father, as I am of my old man.

Being more than 1,000 miles from my beloved Fairy, Princess and ManChild has made me a bit morose today. Who'da thunk it?

What I would have given to have not slept until 9 a.m. today. What I would have given to have not been able to watch the great Mickelson collapse at the U.S. Open in absolute peace and quiet. What I would give to not be watching Game Six of the NBA Finals without being interrupted by my kids. Once upon a time, I may have thought a day of solitude was a GREAT Fathers Day gift.

No thanks. I'll pass; I miss my little people.

You're not in...

Alabama anymore Toto...

Or is it Kansas?

Well, Kansas is precisely where I am now. I am not dead. I am not an imposter.

I'm baaaaaaaack!!!

That's right folks! The man without a plan is back! I am here to dazzle, thrill and amaze. Well, myself perhaps.

It is not quite as flat as it looked in the Wizard of Oz though. I haven't seen a single green witch and only 3 dwarfs. I'm not even sure if they were authentic, or just posers trying to get a little fame on PI. I will, however, keep an eye peeled for that Betty from the East. She surely was a hotty.

The tornado dropped me in Manhattan, Kansas. Why the "Little Apple", you might ask? Well, my sweet, dear old Uncle Sugar made me an offer I couldn't refuse. So, here I am, driving through the home of the Kansas State Wildcats (or some kind of crazy grey and purple cat that I don't even know is anymore real than that cowardly lion) with my Ohio State paraphernalia plastered all over my car when it occurred to me. These people might not be over that little tussle in Tempe. Surely you all remember the 2004 Fiesta Bowl. I know you watched it! Admit it! Anywhoozie... So, it takes all of about a day for a waitress to walk over to my table and ask if that's my SUV with the "Ohio State stuff" on it. Now, brace yourselves..."stuff" is technically defined as one magnet on the tailgate and a National Championship vanity plate on the front bumper. Out of everyone in the restaurant, she just randomly picks me? I just looked up like I had a sign on my freaking head. As it turns out, she was from Columbus, Ohio, so it wasn't a big deal. Her thinking she could stand there and bore me with "have you ever beens" was enough to make me start trying to slice my wrists with my butter knife. Eventually, she went away.

As it turns out though, I have an accent. Not one that I drug along like a pesky little brother, but a (and this isn't me talking here) "New York" accent. That's what the Kansasinianites are telling me. That's pretty peculiar to me. I only went to New York one time and that was for Woodstock in 1994...and I'm sure I left more brain cells there than I left with. So, where does one mysteriously pick up this accent? If anyone can figure this out, please let me know.

It's good to be back!