I'm Baaaaaaaaaack

My daughter Denise asked me why I had stopped blogging.  I responded that I had not stopped blogging, I was waiting for Veronica to close on her condo so I could write a stirring tribute to her like I had done for Denise when she graduated from college.  Well, today we found out that the bank that owned the short sale condo that she was purchasing decided after stringing her along for 6 months that they were rescinding their acceptance of her offer and would only consider selling it to her if she raised her offer by 25K AND the current owner signed an agreement to pay an additional sum on their loan.  Obviously she is upset, me I'm PISSED.  These clowns have eaten up half a year of our lives not to mention the deposit that has been in a non-interest bearing account for 6 months.  You want to know why banks should not be bailed out and should be allowed to fail, it's because of A******S like the decision makers at this organization who said yes, then no, then yes again and now 2 months after the last yes they say no, but since you've hung on this long let's see if we can hold you up for more money.  Unfortunately my daughter really loves this place and has been holding on to this dream for so long that she is tempted to give them what they want.  My advice to her was to walk away, and I hope she listens, but either way these F*****S have caused her pain and anguish and I wish there were some way to make them pay.  Unfortunately, once the units go unsold for another year or two, some elected idiot will decide they should write off the value of this loan and since the Chairman of the Board only made $25 million last year they should get an interest free loan from the government to offset the idiotic decisions they made  over the past 3 years.  So my little rant is done, I sincerely hope Veronica gets whatever is best for her and I will continue to blog about other s**t while I work on the stirring tribute to my beautiful baby girl.

My Bucket List - open for suggestions - will add as we go.

Play in the World Series of Poker
Have Grandchildren, take them to Yankee Stadium, hope they enjoy it more than my daughters
Write a novel
Visit England, Ireland, Italy, (going to China this year)
Spend a lot of time in Spain
Learn how to fly a plane

Denise Elizabeth Echevarria

It's been so long since I wrote anything that I could easily make this a multi-subject entry.  However, the major events of life deserve to stand by themselves.  Last month my baby Denise graduated from the University of Delaware with a degree in Visual Communications.  She put together a beautiful portfolio in her 5 years as a Blue Hen, but what impresses me the most about my beautiful daughter, (besides her blazing hair) is the friendships that she made and the level of independence she has achieved since she first left Edison.  She is an amazing young woman, but as Churchill said of Russia, "she is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma", so too is Dee.  


This is the little girl who could lie better than a professional poker player, but who promised her mother at age 10 that she would never lie to her again and to the best of my knowledge, she has kept that promise.  


The girl who never cried when she was taken to a baby sitter or day care.  The little girl who thought nothing of walking away from the group at Great Adventure, Sesame Place and Disney World, driving me and her mother out of our minds for the 15-20 minutes that she was wandering on her own, which felt like hours to us.  


Going back even further, she didn't talk until she was almost three, we took her to an audiologist at age two and while she was playing with blocks on the floor, the woman banged a pot behind her and she didn't react.  But there was nothing wrong with her hearing, it was her ability to tune out other things when she was concentrating showing up for the first time.  When she did start talking, she talked in full sentences.  


When we moved to Tennessee, her sister hated the move and made it very clear that we were ruining her life(Veronica still hasn't forgiven us, but the return to Edison got us a partial pardon), Denise wasn't too happy either, but for the most part kept it to herself and adapted quickly and started collecting friends.


We came back to Edison and she picked up where she left off with her old friends and soon the circle widened.  High School wasn't her favorite time because in many ways she was looking toward the future.  College was her first opportunity to leave the nest and she made the most of it.  She studied in Spain, where she met her newest best friend, she went to England with her class and came back with another best friend.  While in England she spent weekends in Amsterdam and visited Spain again.  Before her 23rd birthday she had more air miles then most people ever get.


Now, she has college in her rear-view mirror.  An honor student, a leader among her classmates, with a sister who loves her despite all of their bickering and parents who are prouder than anything to call her their daughter.  


Things are tough right now, jobs are not easy to come by, she is in a hurry to start the next stage, and hopes that doesn't include too much more time under her parent's roof.  She will find what she's looking for and she will leave the nest.  Her mother and I will miss her and hope that she always remembers that she CAN come home again, but we will also admire the thing inside her that drives her to dare, and when she becomes a famous artist, designer or whatever, we won't be any prouder of her than we are today.

Young at heart, but still an old fart.

About a month ago my friend Mike called and asked me if I wanted to play softball, for some ridiculous reason I said yes.  Here's a little background on my softball career, from the time I was 19 until the time I was 42 I played softball every year.  There were years where I played for three teams, playing 3-4 games every week, and pick-up games or tournaments on the weekends.  I played every position, I pitched everything except windmill, and I was a line drive, high average kind of hitter with occasional power, on one memorable Sunday on a field with a fence that nobody else on either team reached, I put three home runs over that fence, drove in 8 runs, pitched and won the game 11-4.  From the age of 42 through 44 I lived in Tennessee and my job involved a ton of travel so I retired from softball.  Then we came back to Jersey and although it took a while, I got a call to join one of my old teams for the 2000 season.  I did my usual warm-up, a Diet Coke and putting on sneakers.  The first game they asked me to come in during the fourth inning to play second base.  I sprinted (that's a slow jog for other people) out to my position ready to make every play.  God has a weird sense of humor, the first batter hit a shot to right center field, I went out to get the relay throw from the outfield.  The centerfielder threw the ball high, I jumped to get the ball reaching the top of my 3 inch vertical leap, I caught the ball and as I came down my right ankle turned into a gopher hole tearing bones, tendons and cartilege from the bottom of my foot to the top of my ankle.  After a metal plate, 6 screws, 3 months of physical therapy and a lot of crap from my wife, I officially retired from softball.  By the way Craig, you still have my glove.

So back to the present, I go out to play and on my first at bat I hit a rocket into left field, my first step out of the batter's box I heard a gunshot, ok maybe a cap pistol, and I felt my hamstring cut my right leg in half.  Yes, I exaggerate, I did pull my hamstring but since speed is not a major part of my game I played through the pain and have been playing for the past four weeks.  Everything still hurts so last week I took a week off and now I'm ready to go back and play like the agile 54 year old that I dream I am.

Miss Selaneous

The Sunday before the first day of the rest of my career at my current employer.  I am transferring from a hellish situation to what I hope will be a much more palatable one.  Unfortunately, I'm still not doing what I want to do at work, but how can I possibly complain when:

1)  Although I was demoted they didn't cut my salary.

2)  I know people who have been out of work in my industry for almost two years.

3)  I'll be working for someone I like and respect.

4)  The doctors and staff in the new territory that I met seem great.

So until something newly bad happens I propose that I will enjoy a job that I did for the first time when I was 26 years old, nearly 3 decades ago.  That is not to say that I will not continue to look for a different situation where I can get back to being a leader and helping others to achieve their goals, because after all, that is what I love to do.  I lived with my father for 23 years, and he used to say (in spanish) better to be the head of a mouse rather than the tail of a lion.  (It sounds much better en espanol, es mejor ser cabeza de raton, que cola de leon.) 


This afternoon the Yankees won 12-3, Phil Hughes pitched 7 shutout innings, Teixeira had 4 hits, Swisher , Gardner and Cano hit homers.  They have won 7 out of the first 8 series this year, and that's with Tex hitting a buck twenty, A-Rod hitting 2 Home Runs all year and the replacements for Damon and Matsui doing jack.  Still it's going to be a long year with Tampa Bay playing even better than the Yanks, but with Boston sucking and the Yanks kicking ass, life is good.

Shows I'm gonna miss.  Ugly Betty, Saving Grace, Medium, Numbers.  Shows I can't wait to see again, Royal Pains, Drop Dead Diva.  I'm glad Army Wives is back, and Fringe, and Chuck although they may  not bring that one back.

Just read a book by a former sniper, Jack Coughlin with Donald Davis.  I highly recommend it.  Anything by Matt Reilly is fun reading.   Harlan Coben,  Lee Child,  John R. Maxim,  Catherine Coulter, Stuart Woods, Dick Francis, Stephen Frey, Jack Higgins, Lisa Scottoline some are old friends some are new friends but all of them share the most important characteristic I look for in authors that I enjoy, they entertain me.  In memory of the old Alka Selzer commercial, try it, you'll like it!

Da Boyz "A Tale Of Two Puppies"

It was the best of dogs(Fox), it was the worst of dogs(The Choc aka Chocolate Chip or as Veronica calls him the Brown Bastard).  That's as much as I remember of A Tale of Two Cities so my literary pretensions have to end here.  After a two week Boot Camp that the trainer extended to three weeks at no extra cost due to the lack of progress that my two boyz had made, I went last Saturday to pick up my two doggies.  The Dee joined me to see how her two brothers had progressed.  I had previously spoken to the trainer and he'd commented on how well Chocolate Chip was taking to the training and how Fox was lagging behind. This amazed all of us and we had to clarify with the trainer, hey Bob, you know that Choc is the brown one and Fox is the reddish one.  Definitely, he said, as I fainted from the shock.  If you remember some of my previous stories Choc is the one that acts like he's half English Cocker Spaniel and half Bear, while Fox was always the docile obedient one who's only transgression was getting lost by wandering into a neighbors back yard and pushing open a swinging gate that then locked behind him and had us searching for him for almost three hours.

We were required to wait on a screened porch while the trainer put the dogs through their paces.  Chocolate Chip came strutting out like he owned the backyard and to the amazement of Dee and me, he was AWESOME.  He even looked sleek from a distance and Bob confirmed that Choc had lost a few pounds,(is anyone who knows me surprised that I overfed my dogs, I didn't think so, I've been overfeeding myself, my wife and my daughters for years.  It's amazing that they are as healthy as they are, people and dogs.)  This was a basic obedience course and the training is designed to get the dog to walk at the person's side, stop when the person stops and come when they are called.  There are only three commands, EASY which makes them stop, sit and look at you for the next command.  OK which releases them from the previous command, and COME which gets them to run to you wherever you are.  For almost twenty minutes Choc followed every single command and amazingly more than half the time he was totally off the leash and just following voice commands.  Fox followed and while he was more tentative than Choc he was also pretty damn good.  Since Dee was going back to UD, I loaded the dogs up and drove home to my empty house (Mary was in Prague on a company sponsored Masters Program thingie and Veronica was either working or out, I don't remember.)  I immediately began the process of ruining all the training that Bob had given da Boyz.  I took them out together, he had said to do it separately, I varied my tone on the EASY command sometimes too soft, sometimes too harsh, I threw in a sit or stay command occasionally which left the dogs looking at me with their heads turned to one side like the old RCA Victor dog(I just realized how old that made me sound, my daughters and any of their peers are right now Googling RCA Victor dog to see what the HELL I am talking about), wondering what the hell I wanted from them.  Mary called that Tuesday and pleaded with me to make sure there was some semblance of the training left by the time she returned the next Friday.  It is now 8 days since I picked up the dogs and I have to say they are much better.  I have done the solo training walk 7 out of the 8 days, I have had them loose in the house without any major destruction taking place, and while I have probably fed them more than Bob, I am certain it is much less than I used to feed them.  So all in all, I'm getting my money's worth.

One thing I forgot, when we picked up Choc we noticed that he had worn a smooth spot at the tip of his tail from wagging it against the side of his crate, I tried a band-aid and it fell off almost immediately.  Then later that day Veronica helped me put neosporin on the abrasion and wrap it with gauze and paper tape.  Being a professional Nurse she did an amazing job, it looked like Choc had just come back from the vet.  The next morning I took him out for his training walk and noticed that the bandage was gone.  I figured he'd taken it off and it was still in the crate, no big deal.  Halfway through our walk, he went into his usual, 'go on without me Ech, I gotta poop' pose and left a clear brownish line of liquipoop down the middle of the street.  As soon as he was finished we resumed the walk and he performed all of his commands like a champ including a three block stint without a leash.  I forgot all about the bandage and the liquipoop until the next day.  As we were walking by the spot I saw that the rain had turned the liquipoop white, upon approaching for a closer look I saw the bandage that had been ON his tail had traveled through his system and come OUT his tail.  That's my boyz.

I laughed, I cried, it was better than Cats.

For those of you who have watched TV in New York in the last thirty years you may remember the title of this article. The unfortunate thing for whoever wrote that commercial is that the line is so memorable that nobody remembers the play that was being advertised.  I googled it to see if I could find out, but it mentioned an SNL skit that used the line and gave a ton of links that also said they couldn't remember the play that was being advertised.

I can see it clearly, a couple is walking out of the theater and the 'man on the street' reporter holds up the microphone and an older, heavyset lady with a strong Brooklyn accent gives her personal review for the non-memorable play, "I laughed, I cried, it was better than CATS."

Since then, I have used that line with the members of my family enough so that they become nauseous and turn green whenever I say it.  It is a catchall phrase that I used to describe great entertainment, totally lousy entertainment and life situations that brought out an emotional reaction.

This has been one of those weeks where I laughed, I cried and it was better than Cats.  On Monday I received word that I had been eliminated from consideration one of the two jobs for which I had interviewed,  I learned this as I was driving to the final interview with the other company where I had made it to the final three candidates.  Still, my interview went well and my hopes were raised.

Then on Thursday my current manager who was one of the main causes of my urgency to leave my job called me at 3:50 PM, his first question was, "Where are you?', when I told him he said, "you're too far away we'll have to do this on the phone."  He then told me that he felt that it was in my best interest to accept a transfer to another district because there wasn't enough business to justify my current role and he wanted to collapse the territory and not backfill it.  At that moment I felt that I had hit the lottery, this man was by far the least effective leader I have ever worked under and he was offering me a transfer to a territory managed by one of my best friends in the company.  While it may have it's awkward moments, this is an opportunity to go back to work for a human being.  Having done their job for 15 years I feel that I am qualified to evaluate others' ability to perform that job, I feel like am going from being managed by Stump Merrill to being managed by Billy Martin, for you Met fans, think Jerry Manuel to Gil Hodges.

So, if you are following, Monday bad then good, Tuesday hate my boss, Wednesday hate my boss, Thursday say good-bye to the boss I hate talk to a boss I like and respect, Friday say good bye to a bunch of good co-workers have a teleconference with my new team, Friday night find out you didn't get the other job and while the reasons for leaving are diminished, the prospects for leaving are non-existent at this time.

So all in all this was a week that made me laugh, it made me cry, and it was STILL better than Cats.

Follow Up (Cheating on my employer)

As I reported on my previous post, my five year relationship with my current employer has hit the skids and I'm looking to put them in my rear view mirror as quickly as possible.  This started in November and for four months I felt like the fat kid with the bad skin who couldn't get ANYONE to dance with him.  Then in the past few weeks I had two beautiful potential partners, the one with the telephonic approach came through with a request for a face to face, and so I took a vacation day last Thursday and drove to Boston to see her.  She is in a beautiful red brick building in Marlborough, MA and I felt completely at ease talking to her and her two employees.  They were all very cordial and nice, but I sensed that I may not be their first choice, I was scheduled to spend two hours with them but they cut it short at an hour and forty minutes.  While I know I did not embarrass myself, I did not get the warm feeling all through my body that comes from either true love or a really powerful orgasm.  The positive news is that this will not be the kind of relationship that keeps you hanging, they expect to decide who they are going to go to bed with by next Friday.  In comparison, my current employer took 3 months from first interview to written offer.  So while that is potentially in the works, my hopes are not too high.

HOWEVER, the beautiful young company from South Jersey who I had spent a wonderful day with two weeks ago, called me on Friday to see if I would be available to meet with the suit from the parent company.  Now, as nerve-wracking as meeting the parents can be, I have always felt comfortable at this stage of the relationship.  In previous experiences that I've had like this, for example when I met my wife's parents, I didn't fare too well.  But, as you can see from the fact that we are still married nearly 29 years later, the parents rarely make the final decision.  I feel confident that my being invited to this meeting is a very positive sign that the original relationship went very well and they want me to move in with them.  Also, this will be the fourth person from the company that I will have met and usually the fourth date is a no-brainer YES I WILL GO TO BED WITH YOU(Unless my daughters are reading this, then you need at least 137 dates, an engagement ring, and a new car before you sleep with someone).  So wish me luck, say a prayer and hopefully next week I will be posting a new chapter to my life story that will begin in Swedesboro, NJ.

Springtime for Eche in New Jersey(sung to the tune from The Producers)

Well it has been nearly 5-6 weeks since I shared my wisdom and BS with the masses.  Just this week I took a short vacation with my lovely bride to Miami, FL.  I didn't realize how much I needed this break until today when I am 36 hours away from going back to work.  For five years I have loved my job and have had respect for the company, since January I have come to the realization that it was an unrequited love affair.  I am hoping that the divorce will come through in the next few weeks.  I have started dating other companies and some have even progressed to the second date.  I am especially drawn to one particular suitor, although a second one gave me great phone in my hotel room in Miami.  Still, you can never be assured that one of these relationships will be consummated until you have the offer letter/marriage license in your hands.  But, back to springtime.

We left the state of New Jersey as it was going down under water for the third time.  40 days and 40 nights of rain that followed 127 feet of snow, culminating in a basement full of water and a 3 grand electric bill to rewire the sump pumps, the freezer, the furnace and the hot water heater which were originally all tied in to the same breaker switch and which had blown out the entire electrical system.  Why, you may ask, were all of these powerful appliances that draw high volumes of electricity, connected to the same breaker switch.  Because my builder was a thief, an idiot and a really bad general contractor.  The guy picked a good carpenter, all the woodwork in the house is great, half-ass plumber, problems that no 4 year old house should have, and a truly terrible electrician, problems since day one and no end in sight.

However, that's another story, we boarded a plane in a rain storm, the plane was delayed by an hour and we arrived in Miami in the midst of a rain shower.  We got to the Loew's South Beach and they gave us a free upgrade to an oceanview room.  By the time we reached the room, the rain stopped, the sun started shining and for the next three days we basked in the sun and water of Miami and we ate great Cuban food at Puerto Sagua(although the Roast Chicken was burned, the portions were smaller, and the prices were higher), a remarkable lunch at Fox, a restaurant on Ocean Avenue, with umbrella drinks that were served by the gallon, and dinner at the most ridiculously, over-priced, over-hyped, restaurant ever, Prime 112, BUT we saw a floor show.  Without a reservation we ended up sitting on the outside terrace, Mary and I saw a very nicely dressed woman crying outside the front door.  She was followed out by a guy in shorts a plaid shirt and sandals.  With no warning or other indication she starts whaling on this guy with both fists, the guy wrapped his arms around his head and took a bunch of shots to the mug before security held her off and escorted both of them out of our sight.  I had to come back Wednesday night to keep my date with the new company on Thursday, but Mary stayed the extra day and enjoyed what the residents of Miami said was the best day they had seen in 6 months.

So now my year truly begins, tomorrow at 8PM Yankees vs Red Sox.  Here is my prediction, Yankees WIN, THEEEEEEEEE  Yankees WINNNNN!!!!!  Number 28 in 2010!!!!!!!!!

Snow Snow Snow Ahhhhhh **** it.

I don't know how you all feel, but I vote we skip spring and head right into summer.  I love Jersey, I have always loved Jersey and I will always love Jersey, but if I hit the lottery tomorrow, I will buy the house in the south of Spain, the condo on Miami Beach, and the Desert hideaway in New Mexico or Arizona so that I can spend any month that has the potential to snow in a warm environment.  Possibly, I might even buy the other beachfront condo in Australia to guarantee that I'll have a warm place to spend the winter.  This sucks!  I am at that ripe age when the extra weight on the shovel can turn into a wait in the cardiac unit.  It reminds me of all the Louis L'Amour books I read as a kid that referred to a shovel as an idiot stick.  A stick with a shovel on one end and an idiot on the other.  I WAS that idiot far too often this winter, and that's in addition to the hundreds of dollars I have paid people to shovel when I was too tired or lazy to do it myself. Oh well, now they are saying we may get some more on Wednesday, that means I have one MegaMillions and one Powerball Jackpot to change my life before the next snow.  Wish me luck!

Health/Yoga/Gym?WTF?

After 2 years of trying to eat right and walking on a treadmill I had lost over 40 pounds and still weighed 273.  Somewhere in the back of my mind I must have said 'screw it' and from November to New Year's Day I gained more than 10 pounds.

While I have come to the realization that the only way I'll ever see 199 is after the terminal diagnosis, I've decided that I never want to see the dreaded 3's again. So I broke the tenets of my personal religion, THE CHURCH OF DO AS LITTLE AS POSSIBLE THAT CAN'T BE DONE FROM THE COUCH, and in January I joined a Gym.  After three weeks of strenuous workouts that included walking, jogging, and lifting weights, I gained a pound.

I realized that I needed interaction with a professional and Jillian and Bob don't live in Jersey, so I did a personal evaluation with a Yoga Instructor who told me I was fat, old and had the flexibility of a marble statue.  This, of course, led me to write her a check for $475 for a 3 month membership to her studio.  I am now in the third week of Yoga classes, my chakras are blocked, my ki is low and my butt hurts from sitting with my legs crossed.  On the positive side, I can finish an entire hour now without tears, and the knee that I had surgery on 2 years ago has not fallen off.

The moral of my story is don't exchange that extra burger in your 20's for the mixed green salad of your 50's.  Do it while you're young, it's a helluva lot harder now.

Also, my friend Stan said I need to bring more humor into this blog, he said I put him to sleep with the book reviews and the other crap.  Hey, if you want real humor, come watch me do Yoga, but other than that **** you Killer, LOL.

Who Dat? 1/26

As a graduate of Southeastern Louisiana University and a long time non-fan of Brett Favre and his need for attention, I was very pleased at the results of the NFC Title Game.   While the Jets are not my team I tend to root for New York as a whole when the Yankees, Giants, Knicks and Rangers are not involved but I can never root against Peyton Manning, I lived in Tennessee when that poor SOB was in Knoxville and I can tell you that never have so many expected so much from so few(him).  The fact that he did not win 3 NCAA Championships while at Knoxville seemed unforgiveable to some of the folks in the Volunteer state.  This is a unique Super Bowl for me, no Giants so nobody to root for, no Cowboys so nobody to root against, I like the Colts a little, I like the Saints a little and I stopped betting football 20 years ago, oh well I'm just gonna enjoy the commercials and hope for a 56-54 shootout.

Just finished reading W.E.B. Griffin and his son's latest novel about the OSS(later the CIA) vs. the Nazi's in Argentina during WWII.  I've read Mr. Griffin's books for 20 years and while he seemed to use a lot of filler with Telegrams from one character to another in some of his books, the last few works co-authored with his son have been outstanding.  This Honor Bound series is as good as the earlier books about the Army and the Marines, and the most recent addition to the Philadelphia Cop series was the best in a long time.

Just an update on my pups.  I'm pretty sure that Chocolate Chip ate half a tennis ball today and his whining leads me to believe that it's trying to exit the scene.  We are trying to leave them in separate rooms a few hours each day to develop their independence, Fox is fairly cool with it, but Choc's squeals have hit notes that Pavarotti only dreamed of.

Kids and dogs! January 16, 2010

My daughters are now 22 and 25 and while I love them to death they are not as much fun as when they were 2 and 5.  Stories about my kids kept my friends amused for years.  The first word that Veronica ever read, M A C Y S, (at age 2, maybe 3 I may be bragging) while her mother was reading an ad for Macy's was a clue as to her future abilities.  Not as a reader, she gave that skill up after second grade, but as a shopper.  She can still do major damage to a Department store and a credit card.  The outstanding ability of Denise to lie with a completely straight face as she looked up from her crib with her diaper around her ankles and shook her head no, when her mother asked her if she had taken her diaper off. Or on one of those rare Sundays (Easter) that we attended Mass when Denise asked in a very loud, high pitched voice after our explanation of Easter, and just as the church quieted down for the procession, 'Where's the dead guy?"  I miss those stories and I miss those days.  My daughters are still a lot of fun, but our conversations are not nearly as hilarious as when Veronica used to answer 28,29 to any question you asked her from her age, to her weight to the channel on the TV.  I realize that one may not make sense to all of you, but in my house it killed.

So 10 years ago I broke down and bought Denise the puppy that she had been begging for, she picked out a beautiful English Cocker Spaniel who we named CHIP, within two weeks it became painfully obvious that Chip was really my dog, especially when it came time to walk, bathe, feed or pick up poop. I can't complain, the Chipster was 32 pounds of love who would pee on you as quick as look at you. Mary (wife) would always comment on how sad he looked even as his nub of a tail was beating like a metronome.  We talked about getting him a companion dog to keep him company while we were all out at work but we never did and last year Chip went overnight from being an energetic, ball of puppy fur, to an old man.  After becoming one of those people I used to laugh about who spend thousands of dollars on a dog, Chip was humanely put down and passed away in my arms.  We had him cremated and I once again became the cliche of the pet owner who's pet's ashes are in a box on my mantle.  For weeks I would say hi to the box and occasionally I imagined the box barked at me as I came in the front door.  After everything that we had gone through with the Chip, Mary who amazed herself about how much she cared for the dog despite not being a dog person, felt that we had had enough dogs to last a lifetime, some day I'll tell you about Wizard.  But the Lord (and me and Denise) works in mysterious ways and after an extensive internet search, Denise discovered a breeder (Blue Chip Kennels, how's that for coincidence) who had a red headed version of Chip, and within a week,  Fox was on his way from Iowa to New Jersey.  As we waited for Fox, Denise showed me a picture of a chocolate brown puppy from a later litter at the same breeder and remembering the lonely life of Chip, Fox got a little brother named Chocolate Chip.  After we peeled Mary off the ceiling we started to accommodate our lives to these two little beasts.  We've already had them chew through electrical wires, swallow socks, lick a hole in the wall behind their crate, they have accomplished something that no alarm clock ever could, getting me to wake up at 5-5:30 AM with a small bark or whine.  I look forward to many more adventures and will relate them soon.

New Year's Resolutions

I hereby resolve that with the New York Giants out of the playoffs, I will root for the Jets and any team that plays the Cowboys.  I will not criticize the Yankees if they don't clinch a playoff spot before the All Star break.  I will vote against any politician who initiates negative campaigning.  I will read any book written exclusively by James Patterson, Tom Clancy, but not those that have a co-author, with the exceptions of W.E.B. Griffin and Dick Francis who are setting their sons up to take over the family business, I only wish Louis L'Amour and Robert Heinlein had done the same.  I will start using my Sony Reader.  I will continue to love my wife and I will continue to watch How I Met Your Mother, but they need to give us some hints or they're going to lose me.