The morning birds sing out the names of the missing,
Which get caught by the winds, or by any left listening.

My birthday is this Saturday and I'm turning 51....yikes!

If 50 was a milestone, this is more like a millstone

In reality, it doesn't feel so bad. I have been down and introspective lately, but I'm lightening up along with the coming Summer, at least it seems that way.

Today, a woman at work, upon hearing that I was turning 51, said; "Wow, you're buff!"

It's funny, but I never thought of myself that way, although I confess it that it made me feel pretty good (of course, it was the boss's wife, so I shouldn't feel THAT good... ).

I've been going to the gym a lot lately. Not for the sake of becoming "buff", but more to feel healthier, happier and to assist in staving off the aging process...I guess "buff" is a side effect of my hard labors on the elliptical machine.

What the hell, I don't mind getting older (the alternative is certainly bleak). I might as well do it gracefully.

Cheers,

Dan

I feel empty, sad and lost...

How Deep? (for Zoey)

How chilling is the rain,
extracting needles from the breeze?

How dark’s the fading twilight’s
skulking fog up to our knees?

How deep’s the waiting hole,
fresh-cut wound in ice black ground?

How eerily waits the backfill,
piled so hastily in a mound?

How still is my beloved dog,
as she waits to be interred?

How quiet are the mourners,
our silent grief inferred?

How tragic is the loss
of one so innocent and giving?

How empty are the hearts
of those left here to go on living?

How hard it is to conceive of her,
so lonely, wet and cold?

How easy to remember her
so noble, sweet and bold?

How cutting is the wind,
That stings us as we brace to leave?

How deep’s the hole
that can’t be filled, however hard we grieve?

"...you have to be trusted, by the people that you lie to, cause when they turn their backs on you, you'll get the chance to put the knife in..." from "Dogs" by Roger Waters

How many times must you get screwed by your friends, before you can't call them your friend?
Yes and how many times will you trust from your gut, until it is spilled in the end?

The answer is friends are full of blowing wind, your friends they are full of blowing wind...

Here's a lttile life math lesson to help you kiddies navigate a course through the tracherous waters that fill the playgrounds, hallways, offices, relationships and any other venues that might expose you to other landsharks:

Trust = Actons/Words x (Lies - Deeds)

Love = Self Esteem x Trust/Lust

Lust = Sexual Attraxtion/Insecurity (ego gratication/fear of rejection)

Hate = Rejection x Self Righteousness/Insecurity + Indignation

Murder = Hate/0

Suicide = 0/Hopelessness x Pain

I hope you kids find this tool handy and helpful. Let me know and I'll create an iPhone App for it (and maybe throw in a tip calculator!)