Was notified via facebook that our daughter Mischa has gone into labor far off in Japan.  I complain alot about facebook but live chat with Sergeant Eddie’s parents in Texas while we all await more news from Japan is kind of special.

So I’m up at OMG:30 sipping coffee watching facebook for those little orange update notifications feeling pretty good about this modern world when they shove a little customer satisfaction survey my way.  Hmmmmmmmm.

Crazy Love

Tennyson “In the Spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.” – Alfred, Lord Tennyson 

Last week must have been Winter’s last gasp,  it rained three of those seven days and was pretty darn cold for San Diego.  This week however has been downright balmy and like wildflowers after a gentle spring rain, the women of San Diego are in full bloom.

At first I felt a bit sheepish stealing glances downtown but these women aren’t tarts on the hunt for rich husbands down in the Gaslamp on a Friday night.  They’re professionals (paralegals and secretaries) on their coffee break – hey there’s Alex, one of my B Street clients - Dang girl!  It’s just the style down here now. Very short gauzy dresses that catch the breeze in the most delightful ways.  I’ve found that these women welcome an appreciative look and a smile. We’re all grownups in the big city right?

But it wasn’t a shapely young women that got my heart racing this week and inspired this post, it was a boat.

On my lunchbreaks I drive down to Harbor Island. I eat while I drive so I can get more walking time in.  Yesterday I was over by the fuel dock when a white skiff caught my eye. It was motoring up the channel with a man standing back at the tiller.  At first I thought it was  some Panga variant but it was way too wide at the transom… My God… could it be a Tollman Skiff?

It was too far away to get a good picture with my phone but it seemed to be angling right toward… I turned on my heel, ran back to my car and gunned it out of the parking lot. If I could make the light at Harbor Drive, I could intercept the skiff at Spanish Landing.

I was driving way too fast and I still missed the light. Why was I so anxious? It’s just another happy little boat.  When I got down to Spanish Landing there was no sign of the skiff.  I stood there on the beach scanning the docks and then the channel for a glimpse of  a wake or something. There I was spinning around and around like some befuddled hero in a bad  Brian DePalma movie. Or an old Bob Dylan song.

“He hears the ticking of the clocks – small waves whisper to the rocks – he hunts her down by the waterfront docks where the sailors all come in – Maybe she’ll pick him out again – how long must he wait? – once more for a simple twist of fate.”

No Matter Where You Go There You Are


Moving to Southern California has been a big kick in the ass. I find I have all kind of things to write about but not much time or energy left to wrestle the words into coherent sentences and paragraphs. The ideas build up and then start nagging me so maybe I’ll change the oil and charge up the battery on this old blog.

Life in San Diego is laid back and intense at the same time. The mild weather, Pacific Ocean and thriving Craft Beer scene provide the illusion of bliss but the cost of housing drives many into juggling multiple jobs and hellish commutes. All in all it’s been a real eye opener for this old farm town dog.

The local talk radio is incredibly lame, I can feel my brain getting softer while listening to KOGO yet I can’t help but tune in around 5:50 PM to hear Tori Peck and her moronic sidekick Sully give out  prizes to the “lucky” commuter who’s stuck in the worst traffic.

Sully: “OK up next we have Bob on the 805. Bob what’s it look like out there buddy?”

Bob:  “It looks like a freaking parking lot, It was slow and go up until Claremont Mesa but now it’s bumper to bumper as far as the eye can see.”

Tori:  “Oooo that’s gonna be a tough one to beat today, we have an accident just up the road at the 52 interchange that’s just making a complete mess of things. Bob it looks like you’re going to the big Fred Hall Sports Show at the Del Mar Fairgrounds!”

Bob:  “That’s awesome Tori but can I just pass on a message to my wife?  Siobhán? I love you sweetheart and hope to see you again soon… one of these days.”

I remember the first time I really felt like a local down here.  I was listening to NPR on my way to work whenTori (she does traffic for several stations all day and into the night) comes on with news of a suicide off the Laurel St bridge that had South 163 backed up to Balboa. I was merging onto 163 when I heard this and my hand reflexively hit the left blinker and I faded over to stay on the 15 to University Ave. smooth as silk.

I listen to a lot of radio because  I’m in the car so much but it brings me no pleasure.  Conservative Talk just seems to be a bunch of Rush Limbaugh (a genuine talent) wannabes hopping from one outrage to the next  in between gold and identity theft protection commercials.  I switch to NPR because at least it sounds soothing but soon it just becomes so many earnest people picking at emotional scabs… I find myself wondering what Kim Kardashian and her fat ass are up to?

Status Update

Hey there!

Just wanted to let anyone that might have been wondering know that we are alive and well.  Within three days of moving to San Diego I landed a job!  Life is good down here and we have a plan that we are working on.  You know what they say about plans and God laughing but the important thing is to work the plan.

Living well truly is the best revenge

                          It’s true! Living well is the best revenge



Adios Amigos!

“The world is what you make of it, friend.  If it doesn’t fit, you make alterations.”Stella

I have been at this blogging thing off and on since 2005 and I think it has finally worked it’s way out of my system.  We are moving at the end of the month so that and the job hunt and kicking my life back into gear is taking most of my energy. Which is how it should be.

I’ve enjoyed writing and corresponding with you all and will undoubtedly pop up from time to time in various comment sections of other blogs. I still think blogging is a bona-fide art form and some people still do it very well indeed.

At this point I need to acknowledge and thank my interweb influences.  Everything I ever needed to know about blogging I learned from reading Kim DuToit, Xavier’s Thoughts, and View From The Porch. Of those three, I take great pleasure in noting that the last man standing, el último hombre – so to speak, has turned out to be a girl.

"Here's to the good  stuff! May it last a long long time."

         “Here’s to the good stuff! May it last a long long time.”


Good Night and Good Luck

Lyle with a calm, open eyed look at National Gun Registration.

No matter whether it’s official or not, we have full national gun registration right now…

…You may not be forced to wear an armband right now, indicating your tribal affiliation, but there is no need for such anachronisms anymore. Effectively you ARE wearing an armband and much more.

This is not to get you irritated or angry. There’s far too much of that already and none of that is helpful Just understand where we are in the process.

No Country For (Old White) Men cont.

Let me start by saying God bless Bill Whittle and a big amen to every word in that video but…  there’s always a but isn’t there? What we really need here is somebody that can condense Bill’s message down to about five – ten minutes tops. Now if that person also happened to be say twenty something, attractive and a Mulatto lesbian, well so much the better.  It’s not that Bill is unattractive, he’s just old (and white and straight and conservative) but mostly he’s old.  They say fifty is the new thirty and as any adolescent will tell you, never trust anybody over thirty.

Point of no return

As I rapidly approach my 55th birthday I am all too aware that I am about to slide over that 25-54 demographic horizon.  Beyond here thar be monsters like invisibility, impotence and irrelevance.  50 may be the new 30 but according to actuarial tables 50 is still 50 and I’m reminded of that cold hard fact this week as I wait to hear back from a job recruiter.

She was really interested in me on Tuesday. I had the requisite experience, my own tools and could pass any drug test she wanted to throw at me. Yes certainly I could be in their office next Monday for an OSHA class! All she needed was my SS#, DOB and place of birth to run the background check for a security clearance.

It’s been over 48 hrs and all I’ve heard is crickets.

h/t Protein Wisdom