If you ever have a girl or boy and she or he tells you that you can "live in the empty spaces of this life", hold on tight and never let go. Also if they look like they are channeling the heroin-using spirit of Lou Reed when they wear a leather jacket, they're the one.
I'm sorry but all of my blogging from here on out will be directly influenced by whatever my iPod is playing for me. Probably the best non-breathing companion in the whole world would be a Sony Aibo with an iPod taped to it. Until they make either one of them with gills (scientists estimate that this will be happening by November of next year).
I am going to the lake this weekend to show Simon and his wife how to work everything so they can use the cottage for the rest of the weekend. I haven't been down since the weekend Dad died. I know we've grown close, blog, but I doubt I will share any feelings with you about it in any depth. It seems that I'm pretty closely guarded when it comes to my emotions, always but especially lately (unless I see that episode of Fresh Prince where Ben Vereen plays Will's dad Lou, you know, at the end where Lou is leaving and asks Uncle Phil to tell Will that he can't come on the road with him after Will is all excited about it, and Will acts like he doesn't care to Lou until Lou leaves, and then Will starts yelling about how he never needed him and how he taught himself to play basketball and got himself in to college and how he'll have kids and be a better father than Lou ever could, and then he turns to Uncle Phil and breaks down and says "Why don't he want me, man?" and they hug while Will cries - that scene [check no. 97 - Papa's Got a Brand New Excuse"] and Six Degrees of Separation almost redeem Will Smith, if you have a time machine). If you were an Aibo with an iPod, or maybe a QRIO with a ghettoblaster, then I might share. Sorry.