Sorry. It's been way too long since I posted. Now there's too much to write about and keep things coherent. So we'll try some subheads, for organization's sake:
Wanted: Reason to Live. Apply Within.
I've been pretty depressed the last six weeks or so. One indicator? Not blogging. If you're a friend, and you notice a lack of bloggy goodness, feel free to drop me a line. I could probably use the cheering up.
So why so down? Mostly money problems. I'm feeling particularly failure-ey over my lack of job prospects. Fortunately, the IRS tax season is a month or so away, and that should give me a few months of seasonal government work. Unfortunately, it's not helping me now, and the bills continue to arrive with monotonous regularity. So we're reduced to borrowing from family, (Borrowing? Let's get real. It's more like "sponging," as the chances we'll ever be able to repay them are very, very slim.) and abusing our credit cards. And once you take their money, the phrase "none of your business" is no longer operative, which leads to more failure-ey depression.
Change of Scenery
One of the practical things we're looking at doing to get out of this morass is moving. With Ben married and Porter a senior at UT-Arlington, we simply don't need a house this big. Of course, after living in it for 12 years we're going to need to do some sprucing up and fixing up. Met with a realtor earlier today, and we'll keep working on it. I hate moving, though -- it is a giant pain in the ass. Plus, we have to find a new place to live. Thank goodness we're not underwater on the current place, as that will make it easier to get into a smaller, cheaper place.
Holidaze
Since I last blogged, there was Thanksgiving, which was very nice. After a traditional feast at Louise's folks, we then went down to Galveston for a couple of days at a beach house my sisters rented for a family Thanksgiving. Had a great time. The ladies bonded going shopping, the men bonded watching football, and the younger folks bonded miniature golfing. Fun was had by all.
Then came Christmas. First we drove up to Denton to visit Ben and Stephanie. Took them out to dinner, had a nice time, but since they both had to be at work early the next morning, the visit was too short. They seem to be doing really well together, though, and that makes Louise and I very happy.
Then we cruised through Arlington and swung by Porter's place and knocked on the door -- and he answered! This was a bit of luck, as we had no idea if he was working, or traveling, or what. But once invited, he decided to come along with us to Louise's folks, but not until we cruised down to Mansfield and spent a day and a half at my sister's house for more family time. Some presents were exchanged, and then on Christmas Eve we headed down the interstate to far north Houston to Louise's parents place, where we also ran into Louise's sister and her two kids and a girlfriend. Christmas was great there, including a traditional feast for 21. After that, it was back to Buda to make sure the kitties were still all right, and a little more time with Porter before Louise took him back to school.
And after all the festivities and all the great family time . . . I felt better. The fog is lifting. Score one for Christmas.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Cookie Monster Speaks Truth
A writer calling himself "Cookie Monster" has boiled down the Occupy Wall Street movement to its basics. If you're still unclear on what the protesters want or why they're so upset, listen to the wisdom of the Cookie Monster:
Yes, there always going to be rich and poor. But we used to live in country where rich owned factory and make 30 times what factory worker make. Now we live in country where rich make money by lying about value of derivative bonds and make 3000 times what factory worker would make if factories hadn't all moved to China.
Capitalism great system. We won Cold War because people behind Iron Curtain look over wall, and see how much more plentiful and delicious cookies are in West, and how we have choice of different bakeries, not just state-owned one. It great system. It got us out of Depression, won WWII, built middle class, built country's infrastructure from highways to Hoover Dam to Oreo factory to electrifying rural South. It system that reward hard work and fair play, and everyone do fair share and everyone benefit. Rich get richer, poor get richer, everyone happy. It great system.
Then after Reagan, Republicans decide to make number one priority destroying that system. Now we have system where richest Americans ones who find ways to game system -- your friends on Wall Street -- and poorest Americans ones who thought working hard would get them American dream, when in fact it get them pink slip when job outsourced to 10-year-old in Mumbai slum. And corporations have more influence over government than people (or monsters).
It not about rich people having more money. It about how they got money. It about how they take opportunity away from rest of us, for sake of having more money. It how they willing to take risks that destroy economy -- knowing full well what could and would happen -- putting millions out of work, while creating nothing of value, and all the while crowing that they John Galt, creating wealth for everyone.
That what the soul-searching about. When Liberals run country for 30 years following New Deal, American economy double in size, and wages double along with it. That fair. When Conservatives run country for 30 years following Reagan, American economy double again, and wages stay flat. What happen to our share of money? All of it go to richest 1%. That not "there always going to be rich people". That unfair system. That why we upset. That what Occupy Sesame Street about.
Yes, there always going to be rich and poor. But we used to live in country where rich owned factory and make 30 times what factory worker make. Now we live in country where rich make money by lying about value of derivative bonds and make 3000 times what factory worker would make if factories hadn't all moved to China.
Capitalism great system. We won Cold War because people behind Iron Curtain look over wall, and see how much more plentiful and delicious cookies are in West, and how we have choice of different bakeries, not just state-owned one. It great system. It got us out of Depression, won WWII, built middle class, built country's infrastructure from highways to Hoover Dam to Oreo factory to electrifying rural South. It system that reward hard work and fair play, and everyone do fair share and everyone benefit. Rich get richer, poor get richer, everyone happy. It great system.
Then after Reagan, Republicans decide to make number one priority destroying that system. Now we have system where richest Americans ones who find ways to game system -- your friends on Wall Street -- and poorest Americans ones who thought working hard would get them American dream, when in fact it get them pink slip when job outsourced to 10-year-old in Mumbai slum. And corporations have more influence over government than people (or monsters).
It not about rich people having more money. It about how they got money. It about how they take opportunity away from rest of us, for sake of having more money. It how they willing to take risks that destroy economy -- knowing full well what could and would happen -- putting millions out of work, while creating nothing of value, and all the while crowing that they John Galt, creating wealth for everyone.
That what the soul-searching about. When Liberals run country for 30 years following New Deal, American economy double in size, and wages double along with it. That fair. When Conservatives run country for 30 years following Reagan, American economy double again, and wages stay flat. What happen to our share of money? All of it go to richest 1%. That not "there always going to be rich people". That unfair system. That why we upset. That what Occupy Sesame Street about.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
What Is A "Nittany" Lion?
Apparently, it's one with no sense of decency and a penchant for looking the other way. Penn State's Joe Paterno, like other head coaches at other college football mega-powers, had built an empire where his every need was catered to and every decision went unquestioned.
But with great power, as Spider-Man reminds us, comes great responsibility. So when a "freaked-out" grad student went to Joe Pa with a horrific story of pedophilia by a top-level staff member, he needed to do more than just send an email to his "boss," the (now indicted for perjury) athletic director, clap his hands twice and go palms down like a blackjack dealer leaving the table, and step away.
So when Paterno notices that the (alleged) pedophile still has free run of the Penn St. facilities and for years continues to show young boys around the locker room, where was the nagging voice in Paterno's head saying, "hey, did that thing with the grad student get resolved?" Or did he just assume that somebody else took care of it? And there's the failing that Paterno's supporters don't get -- when you are the big dog, with all the adulation, with all the power, with an entire town that worships the ground you walk on, you don't get to assume that somebody else took care of it.
Paterno is not legally liable -- he did not commit any crime. But his moral liability is huge. And it's a shame that after all the years of mentoring and leadership he has demonstrated at Penn St., he and his apologists haven't figured that out.
But with great power, as Spider-Man reminds us, comes great responsibility. So when a "freaked-out" grad student went to Joe Pa with a horrific story of pedophilia by a top-level staff member, he needed to do more than just send an email to his "boss," the (now indicted for perjury) athletic director, clap his hands twice and go palms down like a blackjack dealer leaving the table, and step away.
So when Paterno notices that the (alleged) pedophile still has free run of the Penn St. facilities and for years continues to show young boys around the locker room, where was the nagging voice in Paterno's head saying, "hey, did that thing with the grad student get resolved?" Or did he just assume that somebody else took care of it? And there's the failing that Paterno's supporters don't get -- when you are the big dog, with all the adulation, with all the power, with an entire town that worships the ground you walk on, you don't get to assume that somebody else took care of it.
Paterno is not legally liable -- he did not commit any crime. But his moral liability is huge. And it's a shame that after all the years of mentoring and leadership he has demonstrated at Penn St., he and his apologists haven't figured that out.
Monday, November 7, 2011
A Stab At Fiction
All my successful game-designing friends, with only a few exceptions, have become successful by moving out of game design, at least in the traditional pen-and-paper sense. Many have crossed over to computer and video gaming, and others to traditional fiction.
A few years back, I wrote a short little story in my favorite genre -- horror. But I never shared it with anyone until now. I would appreciate some feedback of an honest nature, if you have the time. Here it is:
A few years back, I wrote a short little story in my favorite genre -- horror. But I never shared it with anyone until now. I would appreciate some feedback of an honest nature, if you have the time. Here it is:
The Ritual
By Scott Haring
Sebastian stood in the doorway, an impatient frown on his face. “You’re late,” he spat through yellowed teeth as Alford scrambled out of the Jaguar and dashed the few short steps from the driveway to the awning-covered portico, shielding his face from the rain with his newspaper. “Sorry, Master, but in this rain the drivers in this town—“ “There is no time for pitiful excuses,” Sebastian said, turning his back on the younger man. “Timing is critical. I thought you were serious about your training. Perhaps we should delay—“
“No! Please, no, Master,” Alford begged. His face paled and he looked like a frightened 15-year-old beneath the Wall Street suit and perfect hair that labeled him a captain of finance and industry. “I am serious. Tonight I will show you.”
“We shall see, apprentice, we shall see.” Sebastian wore a suit much like Alford’s, though it did not hang nearly as well on his bent, wizened frame. His movements were slowed, to be certain, but they were still sure. In his day, Sebastian bought companies like so many boxes of cereal on the shelf. Presidents and kings sought his counsel, as did other, more shadowy powers. Sometimes, Sebastian would make a suggestion to a world leader without being asked. A wise leader always complied.
Sebastian and Alford walked through several rooms of the mansion to an office. An elegant desk sat at one end atop a fine oriental rug, with leather chairs for an occupant and two guests. The walls were lined with shelves groaning with books and odd bits of bone, jewelry, clockwork constructions, crystals, stuffed and preserved animals, body parts in formaldehyde jars, and more. Alford barely gave it all a second glance as he took one of the guest chairs.
“You have done well … so far,” Sebastian said, leaning forward in his chair. “You have learned to find that which is hidden. You have learned to charm and beguile. You have learned to see what is yet to come. And you have used those advantages to gain a fortune, gain power, gain … personal fulfillment.” Alford thought of the blonde back at his penthouse that afternoon and could not suppress a smile. “But this is not real power. This is just the surface of a deep, dark lake you cannot yet fathom.”
“I know that, Master,” Alford replied, “and while I am most grateful for what you have taught me so far, I am eager to move forward, to grow in my training. I have read many of these books” — he motioned to the shelves surrounding them — “and I know what awaits me.”
“Do you?” Sebastian asked. He reached below the desk and pressed a button. A catch released, and a set of shelves in the back corner of the office swung open. Alford could feel the warm, humid air as it rolled out of the opening, carrying years of dust, mold, and the unmistakable smell of blood.
“You have paid a price for the secrets you have learned, the powers you have obtained,” Sebastian said as he rose from the desk. “But the powers you have are small, easily thwarted, easily taken away. And you haven’t paid much for them.”
“Haven’t paid much?” Alford fumed. “I’ve funneled hundreds of millions to the accounts you’ve set up, and never asked one question about it. I spent eight months under SEC investigation, all to ruin one of your enemies.” “And you were cleared,” Sebastian said calmly. “Do you have any idea how many things I was investigated for in my early days? No, of course you don’t. Because as I gained in power, I was not only able to beat the investigations, I could erase all record they ever occurred. This is the kind of power you are truly seeking.”
The two moved down a softly lit stairway, cut precisely from the bedrock. Alford strained to look, but could not determine the light’s source. “The Dark Ones who give us our power demand a payment, a blasphemy for each boon. The greater the power, the greater the blasphemy must be.”
The pair reached the bottom of the stairs, and stepped into a small room with a marble fireplace at one end and more bookshelves lining the walls. Lit candles ringed the room atop the bookshelves. A black cloth covered the mantelpiece, and a large sheet of plastic covered the floor, directly below the barely conscious man hanging by his wrists in the center of the room.
“Wh-who is he?” asked Alford. “Nobody,” Sebastian said calmly, as he reached behind the man to the mantelpiece, retrieving a dagger, nearly a foot long with a wicked point and slightly s-curved edges. Alford finally took his eyes off the gently moaning man to look at the dagger, and noticed carvings on the handle that matched markings on the abattoir’s wall.
Sebastian handed Alford the dagger. “Take the next step. The greater the blasphemy, the greater the power.”
“As you say, Master,” Alford replied. He took a deep breath, and as the hanging man’s eyes grew wide, Alford spun and plunged the dagger into Sebastian’s chest.
“The greater the blasphemy, the greater the power,” the younger man gloated. But his face turned pale as Sebastian straightened up and, with a wicked grin, pulled the bloodless dagger from his chest. “You understand great blasphemy, apprentice,” he said as small blue balls of light began to form at the five fingertips of his right hand. “But not great power. Not yet.”
The screams echoed through the empty mansion.
--
Sebastian led the woman down the precisely cut stone stairs. “The Dark Ones who give us our power demand a payment, a blasphemy for each boon. The greater the power, the greater the blasphemy must be.” Already the youngest network news anchor ever, she wanted more. But even she was taken aback at the sight of the man dangling by his wrists, still dressed in the Wall Street suit and perfect hair of a captain of finance and industry. “Who is he?” she asked. “Nobody.”
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Halloween Report
We live in a pretty classic American suburb, lots of houses packed fairly close together in what 15 years ago was open ranchland. This makes us prime trick-or-treating territory, and the ghouls and goblins did not disappoint.
We don't bother with the door-knocking part of the ritual, because at the peak, the kids show up in a continual stream. Instead, Louise and I just drag a couple of chairs onto the porch and just serve the kids from there. The fun started around 6:15 or so, and was busiest from 6:30 or so to nearly 8:00. By 8:30 the streets were empty, so we packed it in. I'm going to guess that we saw 200 costumed creepies, maybe even more. Louise bought a ton of candy, and we gave nearly all of it away.
There were a lot of cute costumes. Too many princesses and ninjas to count, plus a lot of rubber-masked fangy creatures. Batman and Spider-Man still completely rule the superhero category, and despite their recent movies, we saw only one Captain America and one Iron Man. We didn't see a single Thor or Green Lantern. And there was only one Harry Potter, but he nailed the costume with real, quality clothes, not a cheap store-bought knockoff.
The most disappointing visitors were the older kids who didn't even bother to try. Hey, would a little makeup, or a funny hat, be too much to ask? When I asked them who they were dressed as, the most common response was, "myself." But we had more candy than we needed, so even the no-costume kids got paid off. But I called them out on their lameness as I did it.
All in all, a great night. Beautiful weather, and hundreds of kids having fun. What more could you want?
We don't bother with the door-knocking part of the ritual, because at the peak, the kids show up in a continual stream. Instead, Louise and I just drag a couple of chairs onto the porch and just serve the kids from there. The fun started around 6:15 or so, and was busiest from 6:30 or so to nearly 8:00. By 8:30 the streets were empty, so we packed it in. I'm going to guess that we saw 200 costumed creepies, maybe even more. Louise bought a ton of candy, and we gave nearly all of it away.
There were a lot of cute costumes. Too many princesses and ninjas to count, plus a lot of rubber-masked fangy creatures. Batman and Spider-Man still completely rule the superhero category, and despite their recent movies, we saw only one Captain America and one Iron Man. We didn't see a single Thor or Green Lantern. And there was only one Harry Potter, but he nailed the costume with real, quality clothes, not a cheap store-bought knockoff.
The most disappointing visitors were the older kids who didn't even bother to try. Hey, would a little makeup, or a funny hat, be too much to ask? When I asked them who they were dressed as, the most common response was, "myself." But we had more candy than we needed, so even the no-costume kids got paid off. But I called them out on their lameness as I did it.
All in all, a great night. Beautiful weather, and hundreds of kids having fun. What more could you want?
Saturday, October 29, 2011
No More Baseball
The season is over. That makes me sad.
The Rangers and their fans are undoubtedly bummed out today. I feel bad for them. But the Cardinals making comeback after comeback, going two months back, is a great story. I feel good for them and their fans.
It's another 15 weeks or so before pitchers and catchers report for 2012 spring training. The wait will be excruciating.
The Rangers and their fans are undoubtedly bummed out today. I feel bad for them. But the Cardinals making comeback after comeback, going two months back, is a great story. I feel good for them and their fans.
It's another 15 weeks or so before pitchers and catchers report for 2012 spring training. The wait will be excruciating.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
The Pit And The Pendulum
So I'm up way too late last night, doing a little channel surfing to put off going to bed, when I stumble across a Turner Classic Movies running of 1961's The Pit and the Pendulum, directed by Roger Corman and starring Vincent Price. (It's Halloween week -- every cable channel is airing whatever scary stuff they can find.) I remembered seeing this movie as a child, and I remember it scaring the bejeezus out of me. So I settled in, anticipating some nice late night shivers.
What a disappointment. Everybody in the cast not named Price was slow, wooden, dull, and boring, which matched the pacing of the movie. It only runs 80 minutes to begin with, but it felt like they could have cut it down to 40 easily and not left anything out.
Some reviews (posted to the film's IMDb page) praised how it set a disquieting, disturbing mood, but the only thing that kept me watching was the payoff at the end, when Vincent Price finally gets his brother-in-law beneath the titular Pendulum. But even that was a disappointment compared to what I remember. I'm no gore hound, but I guess I've still been desensitized by the CSIs, and Bones of the world. I wanted a little sliced flesh, not a slit shirt and smidge of red. What a comedown.
So in what other ways have my childhood memories turned out to be completely off? Do I want to know?
What a disappointment. Everybody in the cast not named Price was slow, wooden, dull, and boring, which matched the pacing of the movie. It only runs 80 minutes to begin with, but it felt like they could have cut it down to 40 easily and not left anything out.
Some reviews (posted to the film's IMDb page) praised how it set a disquieting, disturbing mood, but the only thing that kept me watching was the payoff at the end, when Vincent Price finally gets his brother-in-law beneath the titular Pendulum. But even that was a disappointment compared to what I remember. I'm no gore hound, but I guess I've still been desensitized by the CSIs, and Bones of the world. I wanted a little sliced flesh, not a slit shirt and smidge of red. What a comedown.
So in what other ways have my childhood memories turned out to be completely off? Do I want to know?
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
More Love for October
Last night a cool front blew through, giving us the perfect Texas fall day: Brilliant blue sky, bright sunshine, dry air in the 70s, and a breeze that rustled the trees. This is the day the Chamber of Commerce should bottle for when businesses with an eye for moving to Texas come calling.
And the Rangers are in the World Series, though I'm starting to get a nagging feeling that the Cardinals are this year's Team of Destiny(TM), a team that's not as good on paper, but gets hot at the right time, gets some clutch performances from middlin'-to-average players, and pulls it out. (See Giants, 2010 and Cardinals, 2006.) But Texas has been fairly hot, too. I will root for the home state team, but do it very nervously.
And I should mention the fun time I had weekend before last, getting together with my old friend Matt Forbeck, who was in town for the Game Developer's Conference Online. Matt organized via Twitter a party at the Cedar Door, a fine downtown dining and drinking establishment, and we got caught up on all sorts of stuff both family and professional. Also got to talk to Allen Varney, Jesse Scoble, and a few more first-name-only folks. And I discovered the Cedar Door's signature libation, the delicious, potent, and expensive Mexican Martini, sort of a margarita on steroids. Yum.
And the Rangers are in the World Series, though I'm starting to get a nagging feeling that the Cardinals are this year's Team of Destiny(TM), a team that's not as good on paper, but gets hot at the right time, gets some clutch performances from middlin'-to-average players, and pulls it out. (See Giants, 2010 and Cardinals, 2006.) But Texas has been fairly hot, too. I will root for the home state team, but do it very nervously.
And I should mention the fun time I had weekend before last, getting together with my old friend Matt Forbeck, who was in town for the Game Developer's Conference Online. Matt organized via Twitter a party at the Cedar Door, a fine downtown dining and drinking establishment, and we got caught up on all sorts of stuff both family and professional. Also got to talk to Allen Varney, Jesse Scoble, and a few more first-name-only folks. And I discovered the Cedar Door's signature libation, the delicious, potent, and expensive Mexican Martini, sort of a margarita on steroids. Yum.
Friday, October 14, 2011
I (Heart) October
October is my favorite month. The weather in Texas is pretty much as good as it's going to get, with cool dry air and a lot of sunshine. It's the month that gave us Halloween, the kickoff of the holiday season in America. I know, a lot of stores had their Santa stuff up back in August, but I refuse to get involved before Halloween.
And of course, there's the baseball postseason. There have been a ton of exciting games, dramatic finishes, clutch performances, and two weeks or so more to go. I'm not very good at picking winners, so I won't bother with predictions. But I am rooting for the Rangers and Brewers to advance to the World Series.
And it would be an even better month if I were a football fan, but I'm not, not really. I mean, I know who the good teams are, and when they do the scores and highlights on ESPN I notice, but I don't really watch the games themselves.
Enjoy your October!
And of course, there's the baseball postseason. There have been a ton of exciting games, dramatic finishes, clutch performances, and two weeks or so more to go. I'm not very good at picking winners, so I won't bother with predictions. But I am rooting for the Rangers and Brewers to advance to the World Series.
And it would be an even better month if I were a football fan, but I'm not, not really. I mean, I know who the good teams are, and when they do the scores and highlights on ESPN I notice, but I don't really watch the games themselves.
Enjoy your October!
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Too Much TV
We love our DVR. It's become the most-used appliance in our house. But like many "indispensable" conveniences, it has exacted a toll.
Used to be, when there were two shows on at the same time, we would have to make a hard decision about which one to watch, and we had to make that hard decision right then. Now with the DVR, we can just tape one for later. Easy peasy.
Until you start doing it with a couple of time slots a night. Which is OK, until the DVR reaches its capacity. Then you have to make even harder decisions. You're not just not watching one particular show, you're actively deleting -- murdering -- shows that you were fond of. I mean, you made a conscious decision to save that show, so now you have an emotional investment in it. It's kind of like a digital version of Hoarders, except the pile of 15-year-old magazines is an 8-month-old episode of Burn Notice.
The DVR has also enabled us to watch too much TV. The number of shows we are currently recording is staggering, so much so that I won't embarrass myself with a list. (I went through it in my head, and broke 30 without much effort). And we don't subscribe to any of the premium cable channels, or it would be a whole lot worse. Fortunately, a lot of the shows don't run year-round, so there's some stagger. But it's still completely unmanageable.
Used to be, when there were two shows on at the same time, we would have to make a hard decision about which one to watch, and we had to make that hard decision right then. Now with the DVR, we can just tape one for later. Easy peasy.
Until you start doing it with a couple of time slots a night. Which is OK, until the DVR reaches its capacity. Then you have to make even harder decisions. You're not just not watching one particular show, you're actively deleting -- murdering -- shows that you were fond of. I mean, you made a conscious decision to save that show, so now you have an emotional investment in it. It's kind of like a digital version of Hoarders, except the pile of 15-year-old magazines is an 8-month-old episode of Burn Notice.
The DVR has also enabled us to watch too much TV. The number of shows we are currently recording is staggering, so much so that I won't embarrass myself with a list. (I went through it in my head, and broke 30 without much effort). And we don't subscribe to any of the premium cable channels, or it would be a whole lot worse. Fortunately, a lot of the shows don't run year-round, so there's some stagger. But it's still completely unmanageable.
Friday, October 7, 2011
A New Home
Hello. After years of blogging on LiveJournal, I have decided to switch over to Blogspot. More people, better platform, LiveJournal is on its last legs, etc., etc.
I don't think the platform will make any difference. This blog will still be mostly about me. There will be a pinch of media recommendations (games, music, movies, TV), some mild discourses about politics and/or religion, and occasionally some commentary and predictions about baseball that should demonstrate that while I love the sport, I'm not very good at picking winners.
Lots of other stuff should come up, too. My original LiveJournal blog was mostly therapeutic in nature, getting some feelings out and trying to figure myself out. When I was a kid, I assumed adults had life completely figured out and that I would have it completely figured out, too. I still remember the huge shock it was when I discovered that there was nothing magical about hitting 18, or 21, or 25. Some adults were still undependable, dishonest, and just plain wrong. Later, I revised "some" up to "most." And now that I've soldiered on to the ripe late-middle-age of 53, I realize that "most" includes me a lot of the time.
That's it for now. More to come.
I don't think the platform will make any difference. This blog will still be mostly about me. There will be a pinch of media recommendations (games, music, movies, TV), some mild discourses about politics and/or religion, and occasionally some commentary and predictions about baseball that should demonstrate that while I love the sport, I'm not very good at picking winners.
Lots of other stuff should come up, too. My original LiveJournal blog was mostly therapeutic in nature, getting some feelings out and trying to figure myself out. When I was a kid, I assumed adults had life completely figured out and that I would have it completely figured out, too. I still remember the huge shock it was when I discovered that there was nothing magical about hitting 18, or 21, or 25. Some adults were still undependable, dishonest, and just plain wrong. Later, I revised "some" up to "most." And now that I've soldiered on to the ripe late-middle-age of 53, I realize that "most" includes me a lot of the time.
That's it for now. More to come.
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