All the world's a stage...

All the world's a stage... and I'm a musician that's lost his sheet music... and I have a huge solo that I'm about to perform... or that's how I feel sometimes.

I lost a lot of friends in the divorce. The first thing that I did was become a recluse. I retreated into my house and the only time that I would actually hang out with people was at church or at work.

It's been almost a year since then and I'm finally at a point where I'm ready to start the whole friend making process again.

At first, I think I was over anxious... a touch too eager. Now, I'm settling down.

In all honesty, I'm really more comfortable with people that are considered outsiders than anything else. One of my most favorite birthday memories was the time I went downtown and hung out with homeless people all day. Hanging out in the park talking... I think I enjoyed it because there was no pretense.

I guess, in short, although I think I'm a great person - and I like me, I'm not sure if others like me. I'll dig a little deeper into this tomorrow.

How balanced is too balanced?

People that know me know that I strive to present myself in a very balanced way.

If I'm really excited - I smile fairly broadly.

If I'm sad, I don't smile at all.

If I'm angry... the smile disappears.

I have the perfect poker face.

There are instances when I'm alone if I get really excited I'll surprise myself with a yelp of glee.

I think I get that from my Mom. I was visiting her this weekend - she has a lot of things going on with Dad recovering from his cancer treatments and her Dad (Grand Dad) going through surgery after surgery in a touch and go situation. She's torn between the duty of being wife verses the love a daughter has for her Dad.

I was there when she talked with him on the phone and she wanted to cry, but she fought back the tears and sat in the sun room with a look on her face similar to the one that I tried to approximate in the above picture.

I tried to reaffirm her that it's okay to feel. That crying is good for the soul. That she shouldn't worry. I'll stay with Dad - she can attend to her father.

The more time I spend with her, the more I understand my personality.

I think she developed this because she never had a "safe place" to express her emotions. She couldn't just relax and be. In her mind, her duty of being wife and mother superceded her own needs. And because of the maxim "Duty First" - you lose touch with that emotional side of you because you are the glue that holds things together.

That's one of the things that I've been working on in my post divorce life. Understanding that "Duty First" is a great maxim if you're struggling for survival in a fight for your life, but in a day to day world - all that will do is turn your heart to stone.

So now? I open up a little bit more about me. I may break into spontaneous dance at Wal-Mart.

My heart looks more and more like this now

And that's a good thing.

5,000 feet, continued

Okay... I am not a drama king, but I do have a flair for being overly poetic.

I don't really hear literal voices in my head. It's metaphorical.

I tend to speak in metaphor and try hard to speak in terms of "emotional word pictures" in order for people to understand what I'm really trying to say.

It would probably be easier just to come out and say it plainly... but I'm trying to create an emotional connection.

So, I'm not a drama king... I'm more like a poetic commentator on my life.

Me at 5,000 feet.

I think, or at least I think that we all have voices in our heads that speak to us. For some people they speak affirmations. For others - the voices haunt them.

For me? The voices in the past rather negative. My affirmations had to be conscious - an act of will - and I actually speak them aloud.

One of the reasons why I drove myself to accomplish is - the reason why I choose new hobbies is to remind myself that I could.

As I whispered the things that I've done that day into the wind I stood a little taller a little stronger.

In all honesty, even if I didn't accomplish things I would still be fine. Because despite everything, I actually like the person I am. And that's a mighty powerful thing.

Even though I like me and get a feeling of self-satisfaction when I learned something new or completed a project that I'm working on, I am equally as happy when I have someone to "do life with."

The odd thing is, when I'm in a healthy relationship - the voices aren't there. I think it's the acceptance and validations of another human being that does a world of good. Interestingly enough, I think I'm ready to date. I can't say the same thing about me a year ago... but now? I think I am ready to find her. Not a relationship out of need to not be alone or to demonstrate that I have value or worth. I know this because I am not saying yes to just anyone that says just because they're interested.

Anyway, I know that I'm growing because the negative voices are gone. Now, I hear music again. Original compositions - great symphonies, jazz, rock and neo-soul. Now, I have grand ideas again.

Who am I? I am a person that, despite everything, is genuinely comfortable in his own skin. I know how to be me regardless of the situation and circumstances.

Taking it to the limit.

I am a "redline" kind of guy. I take things to the limit. I believe that if I am going to do something I am going to take it to the extreme. I am going to master it.

I still do it - because I like the challenge of self improvement.

I do this with all of my hobbies:

Competitive pistol shooting

Ultimate Frisbee

Motorcycle riding

Playing guitar

Playing bass guitar

Playing piano

Playing drums

Recording music

American Sign Language

Spanish

Tennis

Soccer

Volleyball

Mountain Biking

Working Out

Philosophy

Psychology

Photography

Blogging

Hackey-Sac

Chess

Mathematics

Physics

Software Programming

Bowling

The only thing that I haven't spent time perfecting is my MySpace page... and that's because frankly, the inspiration to learn HTML and web design hasn't really hit me... yet.

About every two years I pick up another hobby that I want to master and I throw myself into it. I participate in it until I am satisfied that I am more than competent in the endeavor.

Then I put it on the back burner and get another.

So... a big part of who I am is pushing myself to the limit in those areas that interest me.

I think I am a man of faith...

I grew up in the Baptist church. My earliest memories are of being at the church on Sunday morning to open the doors with my Dad. I would be there through Sunday school and church as well as be the last person out the door making sure it was locked.

If there was a Sunday evening program - repeat the process. Be there from beginning until the very end.

Mid-week prayer and Bible study? Same thing.

That's probably one of the reasons why I struggle so much with my relationship with God. I don't want my belief in God to be a belief that exists out of habit.

I want it to be genuine. But that's a hard place to get to.

My closest friends have heard me talk through my struggles of reconciling life to my belief

system.

So... in terms of getting to know me? I think I am a man of faith.

In search of a bright idea...

Is that the flash of a camera or a bright idea popping out of my head?

When I was working for AT&T they used to have these cultural awareness meetings. One of the things that we discussed was talk about how people from different cultures solve problems.

There are some cultures where people brainstorm. Get into a room and scream and yell at each other. The synergy helps them solidify their ideas.

Others... tend to want to go away. Formulate their ideas, then come back and discuss their findings.

I - tend to like to steal away in order to formulate my thought. It's in solitude that things snap sharply into focus.

When I as married I used to enjoy the times when my ex would go out with the boys. I would walk through the house... in the solitude listening to the silence. When everyone returned I had clear vision. How to help the boys with school or problems that they were facing. I would have ideas to discuss regarding issues in the marriage.

Although I enjoy collaborating with people on creative endeavors and long to be with others and have meaningful friendships I also need to balance that with quiet time.

Me... at 10,000 Feet

Since I promised to let you get to know me - let's start at the outside... what anyone can see. Then, we'll drill down lower.

First, I am quirky with a bizarre sense of humor. I enjoy life to the fullest. I enjoy laughing at the simplest things in life and frequently comment on it.

I have managed to continue to look at life with an innocence that so many of us lose after years of having to play grown up.

But that's my secret... I understand how to keep it "play". Whether at work... or play...or hobbies... I manage to find the fun and the enjoyment in it.

Although I have this light side... I also have a darker side.

I have a serious thoughtful side. A side that can be brooding at times. A side that is deeply introspective as I examine my life in an attempt to be better than who I am.

I spend time with pen in hand writing - thinking about what to put in my blog. With a guitar, a piano in front of me or XM radio in hand trying to find the perfect music to fit my mood.

And somewhere in the middle? Well, that's where I strive to be. Where I want to be. That place of balance.

Who am I, anyway?

I am not an easy man to get to know.

What I've witnessed in my life is that people generally want to get to know you at a surface level - then based upon some mythical internal mechanism, they make the decision as to whether to befriend you and get to know you at a deeper level.

People are usually pretty quick at tossing around the term friend and many get offended when I don't return the favor of using the term in return. Friendship has deep implications and it's not a term that I use lightly.

One of the questions that I ask of people is:

"Tell me something about me..."

A lot of people say this is an unfair question. I don't think so, I frequently drop clues as to who I am. So... to make it plain, I think I'll spend some time talking about who I am.

This should be interesting. I can't wait to hear what I have to say.

Release it... and let it go.

Just because you grow up with something doesn't mean that it has to stay with you forever. So... this picture really symbolizes where I am in my life. Today, I, am like this dandelion.

I spend a lot of time talking about my past... how I grew up. How it effected me. At some point, you have to release it... and let it go.

So, that's what I'm going to work on.

Letting go parts of my past.

Painted on smiles...

I have this friend - that for the longest time, whenever I saw a picture of her she had this painted on smile. Even in person... her smile always seamed... forced. She had this vision of what would make her happy. To get married... find a guy that loved her and that she loved... start a family.

When she got what she wanted - she still had this painted on smile.

I keep tabs on her every now and then. Just to touch bases - see how she's doing. And know what? An odd thing happened.

One day, her smile looked natural. It looked free. It looked at peace.

She found that she could be content with her life, just being her. Dancing around with the freedom of a little girl without a care in the world.

I've seen her recently. Oddly, I don't remember if she was smiling or not. She's at a place where we all get where life gets in the way. She has bigger things to think about now.

But I wonder... how is she smiling today?

I am an idealist too...

All photos copy write and credited to my Dad

When I look at these pictures, many taken in the 1950’s, I see something amazing. I see blacks and whites together in a time where in America there were still segregated. These pictures were before the time of Civil Rights – during the Korean War.

What I see is blacks and whites together – working, socializing – more concerned with helping each other survive from day to day than wondering what the people at home would think about them spending time with someone of a different color.

Collectively, we have a lot of serious issues that face us all. Serious issues.

Personally, I struggle with fitting in. I write about it. A lot. But it doesn’t hamper my efforts to fit in. I still put myself out there regularly.

Maybe I’m the exception to the rule. Maybe I’m an idealist.

But being an idealist is what helped us get to the moon, design nifty digital watches, laptop computers and nifty telephones that help us all stay connected in a virtual world.

But most importantly, ideas are what caused us to start this "great experiment called democracy."

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is - think outside the box. Don't get caught up with what's on the surface level. Formulate your own opinions. Question what everyone one says. Think. And most importantly talk... and listen.

I am a constitutionalist

(Photo taken by my Dad - circa 1950)

The say that you should never discuss religion, politics and a woman’s right to choose. I frequently discuss my faith… so now, at a time like this, I feel it’s necessary to discuss politics and my views on race in light of what is going on in the media.

First, although I am a registered republican and more conservative in my political views (much to my parents chagrin) I am truly more a constitutionalist than a republican or democrat. I believe in the ideas that were set forth by our founding fathers and cringe at many of the things that our government does.

I cringed when Bill Clinton and William Cohen (Secretary of Defense) decided that American companies needed to buy “Commercial Off The Shelf” (COTS) products in order to build hardware for military purposes. I recall buying Radstone processing boards from England – thinking to myself – “This is crazy!”

I cringed when George Bush the younger gave the contract for air refueling aircraft to Air Bus and not an American company. This is odd because under the flag of free trade we undercut the pricing structure in a way that priced American companies out of competitive pricing due to subsidies we provide to foreign companies under that same flag of free trade.

We live at a time when with all the craziness that is going on in our country at this time, it is unbelievable that you can watch our government on CSPAN discuss steroids in baseball and whether anything should be done about the New England Patriots football team and I wonder how our country has diminished to the point where we are… then I recall watching a debate a few years ago where the House of Commons in England was discussing the age of homosexual consent – and realize that we, collectively across the globe are repeating history and are focusing more on pleasure than the Creator or problems. We as a western society are chasing Bacchus and Dionysus.

For those reasons, I am sad.

So… for the next few days, I am going to discuss race in America from the perspective of a black man in America.

I do this in hopes of opening dialog with friends of mine and among those of you that read what I have to say. Because whether we want to discuss it, it impacts us all.

Magic Glove ... Magic Memories

If you look closely in this picture, I have a death grip on a baby blue baseball glove. From looking at these pictures, it turns out that I really only had it for about a year. In my memory, I have the glove for at least 3 or 4... Interesting.



I actually found this glove at a garage sale for like $0.25. That's right, one American quarter. The glove was perfectly broken in. It was a fielders dream. With this glove, I was a part of the prized infield team.



The next year, this was stolen.


My most embarrassing baseball moment EVER happened with this new glove. This glove was a full 2 inches shorter than my new glove. My brother was umpiring the game. 2 outs. Bottom of the 3rd inning. Routine pop fly.


I easily got under the ball... waved everyone else off.


My brother clicked the 3rd out... he knew it was over.


The ball hit the top of my glove and hit me square in the forehead rendering me unconscious.


The next thing I remember was looking up at my brother asking me if I was okay.

I vowed that this was going to be my last year playing... But Mr. Froio and Mr. Prosser - the coaches called me and asked me to play the following year. Their sons Bobby and Rob were serious ball players and they wanted solid fielders around them to help out.


That... was the end of my formal baseball career.


It honestly wasn't as much fun playing with my magical blue glove... and I still couldn't hit the ball... and now - I couldn't field.

Love/Hate and big brother influences

I played baseball before I found my true love, soccer. I played baseball because my older brother Larry loved the game of baseball, and like most younger brothers - we follow in the path of our older brothers.

I don't remember seeing him play, but the stories are legendary. Larry pitched a no-hitter... Larry was also a hitter... and a great fielder.

Larry coached me. He taught me how to field - and field well. Pop flies, grounders... if a ball was anywhere near me, I could field it cleanly with style and grace. That is the part of the game that I loved. What I couldn't do was hit the freakin' ball. Never got the hang of that... and that's what I hated. Thus the love/hate relationship.

I remember this year. I played catcher. I'm not sure why I played catcher. I hated everything about it. I hated having to be so close to a guy swinging a bat. I used to back up really far and the umpire would have to tell me to move up closer to the plate. (Did he realize??? That guy was really swinging a bat... HELLO!!!!)

Growing up really reminded me of the movie "The Sandlot" - when we weren't playing organized ball we were in Bobby's back yard playing wiffle ball, kickball, baseball with a tennis ball.

There's a comedian that talks about baseball and growing up. One of the things that he says is - "When your kid and playing with your friends, all is good. The only time you start getting anxious and crying when you lose is when the put the uniform on and your parents start watching."

I can identify with that. I was the king of outdoor baseball. Organized... the wiff (strike out) king.

Baseball. The game I love to hate.

Porn Mustaches, Beautiful Girls and Mr. Reeser

Of all the pictures that I've posted, this is the first one where the principal is displayed. Mr. Naz Fiore, the upper left hand corner... with the super cool porn mustache. The funny thing is that the same picture was used in 1986 when my little sister was there. Somethings never go out of style... although maybe they should.

Anyway... where do people get their notion of what beauty is? At what age is it formulated? Does it occur at your first crush? Is it based on the most popular girl in elementary school? I don't know.

What I do know is the first time that I saw a black/African-American/Aframerican girl that I wasn't related to was in 7th grade. I've told the story about how her brother introduced me to her before (hitting me below the belt, grabbing me by the jugular pushing me up against the wall with 2 or 3 friends of his in tow telling me that I was going to ask his sister to some dance or another...)

Of all the teachers that I had, I think Mr. Reeser is most responsible for the way that I live my life. Mr. Reeser introduced us to a larger world than what was in the books. He introduced us to learning and thinking.

It was in his class that I learned to really play the game of chess. He taught us how to forecast the weather by taking the relative humidity, using a barometer, reading weather maps. I learned sign language under his watch as well. The world snapped sharply into focus then and became less magical and more formulated by reason.

Sometimes, I think I'm too nostalgic about where I grew up.

What I do know now is that I'm not the only person that grew up like this. I also know that there are others that struggle like I do regarding the way that I grew up. A lot of them have embraced the punk counter culture and are still in that lifestyle today because it's where they found acceptance. Or they completely deny their ethnicity in an effort to try to fit into their world.

What I do know is that it does cause an impact that's not easy to resolve.

Maybe I'm nostalgic because I long for a time before I was jaded. I dunno... honestly. What I do know is that I turn 39 this year... and I still struggle with finding places where I feel comfortable to be just me.

Maybe when I'm done... I'll talk about who I am... since I long to be just me.

Maybe that's what I need to define.

Do birds of a feather flock together?

Unfortunately, with all of my looking I couldn't find my 3rd grade picture. When I head back to my parents house I'm going to see if I can track it down. I would love to complete the collection...

Anyway, it's amazing when you think about it. Our social structure teaches us that birds of a feather flock together. But really? That's never been true in my experience. The other gentleman of color in this picture is Jim. Jim and I have been social, but never really close. Our Mom's were close to each other and even now - if we want to say "hi" to each other, we'll go through our parents to do so.

But Jim and I never really fully clicked.

And he always seamed to fit in better than I did.

I think last year I talked about the first time that I actually cried in public. This was the class that I cried in front of.

It was during art class. We were doing a project on film - where we were supposed to break up into groups, create a story board of our movie project, then go outside and film it. I was excited by the whole concept - and was looking forward to doing this with my friends.

When no one wanted me to be in their group the notion that I was "different" hit me like a ton of bricks. I mean... not even Jim wanted me in his group.

I tried to hold it together as I went from "friend" to "friend". I eventually walked over to the counter by the sink (because all elementary schools there had sinks in them...) buried my head on my bent knee and openly cried.

Honestly, I love the city that I grew up in because I got an incredible education. Hate it for the emotional scarring.

I was in 2 films that day. The only person that was in 2...

And that was the last day that I ever stopped asking anyone for anything.

I was going to be content in learning how to roll alone.

And that was the last year at Stokes that Jim and I were in the same class.

How I roll...

Usually, I "roll alone" - or as they say, do things alone. This isn't necessarily by choice... it's just kind of the way things happen in my life. I have a ton of friends - many I've had for years... but they all live out of the state. I have acquaintances where I live, but I generally get together with each of them maybe once every 3 months or so.


I don't have that consistent road dog.


Speaking of road dogs... this reminds me of 2nd grade...

I've told the story before about how when I was in 2nd grade I was sent to the library to take a "test" - I remember it like it was yesterday. At the library, they sat me at a table with of all things, another black kid - Jim. We kind of sat across from the table looking at each other... My seat faced the door, so I could see more than he could... What did I see?


Mr. Fiore (the principal), my 2nd grade teacher and the lady who was going to be our 3rd grade teacher Mrs. Romer was there looking to see whether or not we would get along. I'm not sure if they were expecting us to fight or plot to take over the school... what I do know is that we were just little kids in 2nd grade.


I'm rambling for a second... but I think I can bring this home...


Lately, I've started inviting people to social outings... It feels good. I don't have a road dog just yet... not even a glimmer of having an entourage either...


But I do have friends to do things with. New friends I've made since the divorce.


I met with a former co-worker today for a ride... His bike is in the front... mine is the blue one.

Although it's nice to roll alone, there are times when it's great to hang out with a friend.

Who made an impact you your life?

I've talked a lot about what it was like where I grew up and the impact that it had on my life. I thought I would share some pictures from the first 11 years of my life and talk about who made an impact on my life... why and what was so significant about that year.

Not a year goes by that I don't think about Mrs. Kelly, my first grade teacher.

Mrs. Kelly was hard as nails take no prisoners easily the meanest woman that I have ever had the good fortune of missing. I know many nuns at private Catholic schools that thought she was too strict.

In first grade, she demanded excellence. She set the expectation of good penmanship, learning phonics, addition and subtraction by wrote. She expected that we learn the fundamentals that would serve us well the rest of our lives.

She made such an impact in all of our lives that I remember when we graduated from high school we all went back to this elementary school to visit her. She was honestly the only instructor that we went to see.

Cathy, Paul, Jerry, Stacy, Bob - almost the whole class was there... it was amazing. We didn't organize it... we just all kind of showed up at the same time.

She remembered each of us by name and was able to recalled stories about each of us. She made an impact because she loved us and truly cared for what she did...

That's one of the ways that I want to be in my life. I want there to be people that can say I truly cared about their well being and they want to come back and share their successes years down the road.

Bonus prize: Can you pick me out in this picture?

Who am I?

My friends say I am nice. Kind of like a Boy Scout. Granted, in this picture I'm wearing a Cub Scout uniform... but the concept is the same.

A Scout is:
trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent.

That really sums up who I am.

I am a 30 something Boy Scout.

When I was at my parents house I scanned some pictures in from my younger days. My next couple posts are going to talk about those pictures and why they are significant to me.

I'm pretty much the same wide eyed kid that's in that picture that believes the world is big and full of wonderment...

Except now? My posture is better.

They grow up so fast...

C'fer, my oldest turns 16 this month. He's had his permit for a while and is taking drivers ed. When I went to pick him up from football practice today I tossed him the keys.

They grow up so fast...

Same shirt... different day

Every once in a while you have to be an encouragement to yourself... look back from where you were and see where you are today. Believe it or not, I'm wearing the same shirt in all 3 pictures, thus the title - "Same shirt... different day."

I really look back at when I was 275 and could barely walk up the driveway - when I went to my Dr. and he said - "You're fat... get up off your lazy behind and do something." - Thanks Dr. Joe. If it weren't for you, I would probably be 300 pounds and growing.

In all honesty, I really watch my diet. Yesterday I was craving a 5 Guys burger and fries... Even drove all the way cross town and sat outside the establishment for 30 minutes debating on whether or not to go in.

I didn't.

It's small victories like this that make me want to pat myself on the back... tell me "job well done..."

I weighed in at 223 this morning. Even though I can't really see the difference, it's pictures that I've taken like this that encourage me to continue on.

So - I'm not Jared from Subway...

I'm Dwane... and I can do this.

Weekly fitness check in

Sorry... no pictures this time.

I'm at 225. It takes 3500 calories to burn a pound of fat. That's a TON of working out coupled with a proper diet.

I've been sticking to the plan. I'm getting stronger - standing taller. My over all fitness level is increasing - I can do a ton more than I could 3 weeks ago.

I'll post pictures next week.

Promise.

Beliefs - Part 2

Warning: This post is about my belief in Christianity...

I was reading in the book of Haggai (one of the minor prophets in the old testament). Basically, what had happened was the people had just returned from Babylonian captivity. One of the first things that they were supposed to do was rebuild the temple.

Unfortunately, the people had stopped building the temple to concentrate on their own lives. Build their houses, restore commerce and ultimately - forget about God.

Basically, there's really no difference between the way things were then and the way things are today.

We get so busy concentrating on out own lives and forget about God in search for work and finding the "American dream."

I admit it. I find myself there sometimes as well.

One of the good things about being unemployed at the moment is that I am finally at a point where I can hear lessons like this and put first things first.

Anyway, Haggai is a small book... 2 chapters. A very quick read.

Well, the conclusion of the story is that once we figure it out... once put things in the right perspective, God promises to bless us and show himself as a strong and mighty in our lives so others can see that God is a God of love that wants all of humanity to know the deep richness of his love for us.

Check it out online - Haggai 1 and Haggai 2

The road less travelled

It's odd when you're out off roading and come to a bridge to nowhere...

Beliefs

The funny thing about beliefs is that they can erode over time. Things that at one point seamed so clear and meaningful can degrade into nothing more than a series of habits that you hold on to that are shallow and without hope. Simply a series of tasks that are performed because you would be lost without the tasks.

That's basically the position that I find myself in at the moment.

The odd thing is...

When you find out how far you've drifted from your beliefs it's like your whole world snaps sharply back into focus it can be overwhelming.

I know... I'm back to talking vaguely. I plan to clear things up in future posts. As usual.

Promise.

The End

And the day ends much like it began... Actually, I am going to read a few chapters in a book, play a little guitar and call a few friends... then call it a night.

Thanks for sharing my day.

putting the house back together

Usually I wait until Monday to do the dishes, the fact that I am doing this now is a sign of personal growth.

heading home

The kiddies have been delivered to the ex. Now it's go home, wash dishes and generally put things in order.

S.A.F.E.

Sex And Family Education - this is a program that goes into the local schools to discuss sex and family.

This lovely lady is the director.

The oldest... and the ex...

What on earth could have gotten us in the same place at the same time???

Anthony

I remember him when he was... well, shorter than me. Come to think of it... C'fer is taller than me too... At least I look young...

C'fer

The oldest ran a 5K - to support a friend of ours that is battling throat cancer. Allen is wearing the official shirt from the event.

Jerry

It was really good to see these guys again...

This is Jerry...

Alan

Alan is a super bad bass guitar player. Not bad meaning bad... but bad meaning good...

Gary

it's been a long time since i've been to m'top...

heading to church

taking the boys to their evening programs and catching up with the oldest... hopefully.

jam session

now it's time for a good ole fashioned jam session. Joshua is wailing away on the drums. It's not a great picture, but we had a great time!

transferring

Transferring posts to my 360 page.

Joshua is...

Joshua is in the computer room chatting... Jam session coming up in about 30 minutes.

watching Tin Man on Sci Fi

Of course... he's never seen the Wizard of Oz... so none of this is really making any sense to him at all...

huh, what???

Antibiotics, anti-convulsants, mood stabilizers and sex hormones found in the tap water of 41 million homes. Wow

What does the timer say?

Caleb said... "I don't know, so I just set it for an hour."

Can you say extra crispy?

lunch time...

Bake wings for how many minutes? 20....