As I sit here in a strangely empty (compared to two weeks ago) airport waiting to leave Corpus Christi and head back to Atlanta again, of course I reflect on my trip and work.

Last friday I was focusing on getting back into the rhythym of the Atlanta office again when all of a sudden I was informed that I was being sent back to Corpus again. Not really a suprise especially since local management at Corpus had already tried to extend my previous trip but it was denied somewhere in the atlanta office.

So of course the look on my face was not exactly eager or ambitious at that moment, there I was thinking about the plans I had already made for my next week and the weekend.

The trip to see my mother... cancelled.
An evening seeing a very good Celtic Rock band live with good friends... cancelled.
The prep time I was hoping for to prepare for a Halloween party... cancelled.

Nothing that was entirely life or death but definitely things I had got excited and prepared for.

Upon seeing my face, the individual telling me about my trip suddenly says, "You don't have to go if you don't want to."

And my mind briefly did the processing and then I shrugged and accepted the trip since under the circumstances of the moment I really was the best choice to go and assistance was greatly needed. All other choices would have been either innapropriate or more critical to the running of the department in atlanta.

I tried to make the best of it, I had an invitation to a Gourmet food and wine evening at a great local restaurant that I had accepted with dignity and thankfulness even though I had thought at the time that I would be unable to attend to it.

So I made my reservation, tried to create other plans that would have made my trip much more enjoyable then the last one had been...

By monday night all of my plans had failed to develop properly. For example since the Restaurant had not received enough reservations, the special evening was cancelled. *sigh* and I really liked the descriptions of some of the food stuffs that were gonna be prepared fresh.

But overall despite trials and tribulations I am confident and happy overall about my trip. I know that I brought a lot of light and understanding to many people and I was able to help teach something to everyone I met.

So to quote the philosopher Jagger, "Sometimes you can't get what you want..."


Oh... and according to the phone call from one of my room mates informs me that the townhouse has been without heat since at least monday. Joy!

I just met an interesting gentleman at the japanese steakhouse I went to dinner tonight ( I love being on company travel... I get to eat out at some of the nicest places )

Well anyways I overhear this gentleman's son talking to him about some geek/gamer topic and being the social geek that I am I start asking questions and develop a dialogue (It also helps that I mix my wasasbi in with my soy sauce just like the father does... don't question, just accept the moments of synchronicity)

After finding out that I am involved in the tech field and that I'm a gamer, this gentleman asks if I know any network admins who are looking for work. (It turns out that I currently don't have the basic skill set he needs but I also know a lot of people)

The business is involved in setting up wireless networks on a LARGE scale, he and his partners have pioneered some technology advances that take it beyond "hotspots" and work on a definite MACRO level. They have contracts international as well as domestic to set up wireless networks on a citywide level or above.He needs a good network admin who understands setting up IP addresses on a LARGE scale as well as having problem solving skills and the ability to think outside the box.

to quote, "The type of thinking that a gamer does is along the lines of what I need."
He understands the need and drive to game, as long as it doesn't interfer when it comes time to work he is very accepting. Moving is not required but ability to travel is definitely needed in order to occasionally come to site to help design network to specifications... Other than that he knows the job can be done remotely.

I don't have too many more details I was more worried about understanding the basic fundamentals of what he needed and promised him I would help him go "fishing" for motivated gamer geeks

So if this sounds intriquing to you, contact me and send me your resume and I will forward it on to him. Obviously I'm not just gonna post his contact info and let him get spammed as that would be rude, but I promise to forward any honest inquiries on.

Oh and for those who are wondering, the company is based in texas but has contracts already in place for parts of arizona and new mexico as well as their overseas contracts (I know he mentioned Austria).

I still very vividly remember the day I first learned the concept of speaking Untruth.

I was four years old while on a trip with my mother and the man who was to become my step father and his children travelling around Michigan on vacation. It was kind of an open ended vacation where we were gonna keep going as long as the money lasted so there were a lot of cost saving measures taken. We camped out almost everywhere we went and kept frivolous purchases to a minimum.

We were getting ready to take the ferry to Mackinac Island when the bottom fell out of my universe.

My mother said to me, "Now remember, you are three years old."

I didn't respond. I was devastated. I was confused. Had I really been wrong about my age? Had I dreamed an entire year of life and woken up to find it hadn't really happened? Had there been a paradigm shift and I didn't get the memo (I didn't think in those words at that age, but it does accurately describe how I felt at the time)?

Lost in the turmoil of my mind, I waited until my parents had purchased the tickets for the ferry ride. What I didn't know at the time (or probably wouldn't have understood if I had anyways) was that children three and under got on free. Before we walked away from the cashier I asked my mother with a voice trembling in fear, "But I'm still four, right?"

Okay I was informed late yesterday that I was going back to texas again... I fly out tomorrow afternoon for another week.

The reason why this ends up being annoying is because before I left texas the last time, the locals had already foreseen this need and we tried to just get my last visit extended. Which of course with corporate mentality and way of doing things that request was denied.

So now after coming back to Atlanta and making social plans for some very fun events (like seeing Emerald Rose in concert next thursday and a costume party next saturday), I'm now abandoning my plans yet again and playing nice for the corporate world... Who I no longer believe appreciates such things. When did I lose my faith in corporate america? Like I ever really had any to begin with *grin*, but... *shrug* I guess I still have moments of naivete.

I'm gonna at least try to fly back to atlanta in time to rush back to the apartment, take a quick shower, and show up fashionably late to the costume party wearing my Petruccio mask *evilgrin*

And I had just found out where I can get a pony keg of imported Bavarian Ale to bring to the party... Doesn't look like that will happen for this particular event. Maybe next time.

Enough rambling... gotta get back to packing.

It's kinda sad to spend an evening in an irish pub with a singer playing on his acoustic guitar belting out ballad after ballad (many songs of which are definitely a trip down amnesia lane), but he doens't know any really good Irish Drinking songs.

I asked him about "Barret's Privateers" and " The Old Dun Cow" but got fairly blank looks... come on, people... Irish pubs are supposed to be about Irish Drinking songs... *sigh*

Well At least I have plans for next thursday to go see Emerald Rose perform at Meehan's next Thursday night.

But in his defense, Jason Marcum at Limerick's tonight did play a couple of ballads that spoke to me... Especially when he played "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" by Gordon Lightfoot.

I could almost swear that I have a painting of the Edmund Fitzgerald in the painting I have inherited from my father. The Edmund Fitzgerald as I remember it sank in Lake Superior which I spent a good number of years near to as I grew up...

Enough babbling for now... more later...

I still remember finding this poem in an english book owned by the mother of a young lady I was total entranced by back when I was in high school. I was totally convinced that she was the perfect being in my life... Highly Intelligent, Beautiful, and an Athlete.
And here we were looking through this book of literature when I found this poetry that resonated deeply within me. It felt like something that I should remember even though I had never read it before. It had a very strong sense of romantic love that was very appealing to my young heart and soul.
I didn't pay attention when the young lady I was interested didn't understand why I found this poem so romantic. *sigh* Lessons learned the hard way... Even though they may say they want Romance, it's not always from you. Finding that balance between too intense and not intense enough is a tricky path in romantic entanglements.
But at least Loreena McKennitt put this to music many years later which definitley was a very intense and special moment when I first heard it. For that matter, every time I hear it.

Alfred Noyes (1880-1958)
The Highwayman
PART ONE
I
THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
II
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.
III
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shuters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
IV
And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—
V
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
VI
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonliglt, and galloped away to the West.

PART TWO
I
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—
King George's men came matching, up to the old inn-door.
II
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.
III
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!
IV
She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!
V
The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain .
VI
Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!
VII
Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.
VIII
He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
IX
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.
* * * * * *
X
And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
XI
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Something else came up while I was still in the Corpus Christi Airport after I had packed away the laptop. I was sitting there reading a book occasionally checking the time since it was getting fairly close to the time that I would be expecting to start the boarding process.

All of a sudden the fire alarms started flashing and the annoying noise starts up. A voice comes over the intercom saying, "Do not panic, but a fire has been spotted on your level. Please make your way calmly to the exits."

This does not sit well with me. I've already gone through "special handling" with security once and I can easily envision the mess that there will be when they finally decide to let people back in and the throngs of people have to wait oh so patiently with overworked security staff while my flight leaves without me. This is definitely not an acceptable possibilty to me.

I look around the fairly open and spacious concourse and think about the fact that I don't see any fire and since its so open that as soon as I did I would have plenty of time to make my exit at such a time.

There were a number of other people waiting in my gate area that seemed to be having similar rebellious thoughts as I was having. As I watched all of the people from other gates as well as most of those from ours walking towards the exit area with our belongings several people were muttering about the pattern of "adventures" they've had every time they've flown out of this particular airport and that they really didn't want to go through it again.

I kept an eye on the airport employee working our gate and had decided that if he seems to be heading off to the exits then I would give serious thought about following, but he didn't seem in any real hurry to do so. A few moments later the gate attendant indicates to us that we can go ahead and start boarding and that he won't go through the whole boarding procedure of boarding by zones.

*grin* I was the third person to board.

And all of the people who followed the instructions of the disembodied voice barely managed to get on the plane before take off, since according to the flight attendant that by airline regulations that the plane would not have ben able to wait just because of the fire alarm.

What is it about a paper temporary license that gets the security people here in Texas all in a tizzy? In the Atlanta airport my Alabama temporary license was accepted without issue or comment.

But evidently, "Temporary Licenses always have a seal!"

I quess I shouldn't have pointed out that the temp license was from Alabama and therefore may be handled differently than how they deal with temporary licenses in Texas. *shrug*

Upon getting to the security checkpoint I found out that I had been "selected by my airline" for special handling. I almost laughed at the security lady since the way she delivered the comment was like I had just woon the jackpot or some such thing. *grin*

Ah well, I took it in good humor and grinned evilly at each step of the process where I and my bags got extra scrutiny. The guy who did the wand thingy was so careful to explain how he may have to touch me and make it come across as non threatening or invasive as possible.

Though I guess I can understand how some people who don't have a sense of humor about life or are otherwise having a bad day would be very disturbed by the process. I kept waiting for them to open up my bags and then having to explain the leather Petruccio mask I bought at the Ren Faire.

*evilgrin* Darn, I was looking forward to that, but evidently they seemed to content themselves with the X-rays they got of my bags.

Hmmm... maybe its because I'm dressed up like someone who is trying too hard to look like a tourist. *evilgrin* Hmmm... maybe I should get a picture taken so I can post it later... I might get my ride who picks me up in Atlanta to take one later and I will insert it here.


But until I can edit this post later, let me describe what I'm wearing. Got a black T-shirt with a Celtic design on it with a loud hawaiian style shirt on top of it and I'm wearing this huge honkin' hat that I found at the Ren Faire that I'm gonna try and use as part of a costume idea for next year's Dragon Con. Along with sunglasses and overstuffed bags. *evilgrin*

In a round about way I find the whole security adventure an interesting tie in to a blog I was perusing earlier today. I decided to do a search for other websites that have Labyrinth in the title and it was at the top of the list


Its written by an Iranian immigrant to the U.S. and I find it interesting and thought provooking, not the least of which is because its written by someone who is trying to overcome communication difficulties while trying to send his message out. Not the least of which is trying to write in a language that his mind can't quite think in yet. So some of his messages may be political and that's not something I really wanted to bring to my blog, I still wanted to share since whether or not I agree with what I find there it still provokes thought and sometimes we need to follow the paths that those thoughts can take us down also.

The Labyrinth

More later, I need to conserve the batteries in the laptop and I should be boarding soon anyways. Don't want to repeat the dash to the plane I had last time.

... cuz I've been wrapped up in thinking really deep thoughts. Kinda understandable but still I do feel kinda quilty for not sharing. Strangely enough my attempts to bring myself out of that dark space I was in involved me spending my time reading through the entire run of several webcomics that I haven't had the fortune to read until now.

Including Queen of Wands whose storyline is complete now but the creator is in the process of reprinting with comments about each episode. Many things about this storyline run had resonance for me, and I won't go into those for now.

I also read through




which I could grab a banner for even though I couldn't find one for the Queen of Wands... which is a shame...

So I'm mostly out of my funk now and went to dinner tonight at a restaurant here in Corpus that I spent almost every single night at last time I was in Corpus, Assagia Honolulu... Well anyways the first time I went there on this trip I was seated for about 15 minutes or so before I got upset and angry and decided to walk out. (not even having a member of the wait staff give you water or the obligatory bread can do that when a couple who arrived much later than you gets that privelege can do that to you.)

When i drove away I called information and called the restaurant and asked to speak to the manager. I was promised that I would be taken care of the next time I arrived at the restaurant. As upset as I was and knowing how limited my time was in Corpus I replied, "We shall see."

So on my final night in Corpus Christi I decided to wander into the restaurant that had royally pissed me off and see what kind of evening it would be (I really wanted to forgive them since the food had been extraordinary). nWell pretty quickly I was recognized and given all kinds of preferential treatment (Did I mention when I had called before that the manager I had asked to speak to had recognized me as I had walked out in a huff as a good customer and was properly effusive). So I walked in tonight on afriday night which should and was be a very busy night fo rhem and was fairly quickly met with very obvious bowing and scraping.

I was told fairly early on that my dinner was on the house and I was almost constantly asked if I was okay and/or taklen care of. I even received my food ahead of people who had been seated before me. which kinda bothered me, since I was only seeking to be treated as I should have the first time which was in the order I had arrived and as if I was a valued customer (which should have been a given for any kind of service industry nowadays)

Ah well it was an interesting eveing with very good seafod... but I refuse to let them gove me the entire evening for free... I asked for them to still give me abill for my glasses of wine that I imbibed.

I don't have any great universal insites to share at this particular moment but I thought I shoudl keep in touch. There will be more postings in the future. But right now I'm gonna finish the last bottle of wine that I've got in my hotel room before IU have to fly back tomorrow. Pouring it down the drain or pouring it down the drain would be alcohol abuse and I am not gonna let myself go to that particular Irish hell.

Until next time...

I did some research in order to fulfill the wish of one of my readers who wanted to receive some kind of email notification whenever my blog is updated.

So I set up a Google Group. How it should work is that after you join the group you will receive a copy of every email sent to the group email address. I have already set up Blogger to forward a copy of every new post I make to that address, so hopefully if it works properly that everyone in the group will automatically receive a copy of every new posting in their email instead of having to check here all the time.

Just providing options.

If there are any issues or anyone has any other ideas for improvement around here, let me know.

It's appropriate that it is storming outside while I write this...

I received a short email earlier today from a lady I used to game with and also used to be much better friends with once other upon a time, as a matter of fact her husband and I swapped out being Best Man for each other, though their marriage has lasted much better so far than mine did.

Well... one of our friends we that we gamed with was laid to rest over the weekend. The details are sparse and what little I know puts me into deep thougts that I am not ready to discuss at this time, but the memories of gaming sessions past have been crowding my mind all day. From escapades in Warhammer Fantasy to Star Wars as well as many years of life's trials and tribulations away from the gaming table.

Tonight I drink to a fallen comrade.

My next Nat 20 is for you.



The Empty Chair

Eulogy for a Gamer

There is an empty chair,
at the table this day.
A hallowed place where,
a friend once played.
The roll of his dice,
my ears long to hear.
Or perhaps it would suffice,
if he should suddenly appear.
With character sheet in hand,
and a bag of Cheeze-doodles to share.
All his friends would stand,
as he sat in the empty chair.
I hear his voice a-callin’,
and it ties my heart in a knot.
For he cries, “Though a comrade has fallen,
You must play for those who cannot.”
We conquered worlds on the run,
he and I in the name of fun.
And as others may come and go,
I make both both friend and foe.
But what I long for most,
is our past now long a ghost.

originally printed in "Knights of the Dinner Table"

Okay so here I am going to be stuck over the weekend in Corpus Christi Texas while on this two week business trip with nothing to do. After all there is not a whole lot to do here besides go to the beach and well I've been there and done that last time I was on this trip, besides so far it is acting like its gonna be fairly overcast this weekend down here on the Gulf of Mexico.

Having already sussed out that I'm pretty much into that sort of thing, one of my students off hand mentioned something about the Texas Ren Faire. Hmmm... Intriquing idea, I haven't managed to make it to a Ren Faire for one reason or another for many a year now. No matter whether it tis to be a large or small gathering, much enjoyment will be had from meandering the faire grounds. A momentary regret swam through my mind that if I had any kind of warning before I had left Georgia, I would have packed some garb so I could truly have left Mundania behind when I get to the site.

So saturday morning comes along and I just do not want to get moving, after all week long of having to get up at 6:30 in the ayem... I mean please, there is a reason why my normal work schedule doesn't start til 10:00. My mind and manners just do not function at all well that early in the day. So I toss in the bonus disc to Lost Season One and watch the deleted scenes and some behind the scenes featurettes while I try to convince my tired and bedraggled self to move out of the nice warm bed, especially faced with the prospect of driving almost 300 miles.

Have I mentioned that part? Not only am I a certifiable geekboy, but I am planning to make a trek that in any other part of the country other than Texas would probably be carrying me across several state lines in order to feed the madness!

Okay several long car trip rituals later, and evn though I still forgot the charger for my MP3 player, bad geekboy! No Audiobooks for you! And since I wasn't expecting any long road trip I didn't pack my power converter so I can run my laptop while in the car and at least listen to Audio Commentary track on one of my DVDs. I mean how positively paleolithic can I make this trip. I'm gonna have to listen *shudder* to public radio! I mean the outrage of it all. I need to write my congressman. Oh wait, even though I've been registered to vote since the day I turned eighteen, I've refused to vote in any election... Hmmm... I quess I will just sit here with my lower lip all aquiver (is that really a word?) and see how many more digressions I can find before I wander back to my point finally.

*clue by four to the back of the head*

Oh yeah I'm on the road driving towards houston and I pass through this small town called Refugio, Texas and I look up and see a road sign that says, "Superior Public Water System" and less than a hundred feet later was another road sign that read, "Watch for water on the road". I couldn't help it, I just started sniggering and said, "I've got to post that." I wish I had turned around and snapped some pictures with my camera. *sigh* yet another in a long series of moments that I was unprepared for *grin*.

Fast forward several hours and after dealing with Houston traffic which believe it or not is as bad or if not worse than Atlanta traffic, I make it to the vicintity of the Faire when silly me realizes that I have yet to eat anything for the day. So focused am I upon attaining my goal and travelling as efficiently as possible (blessings to be placed upon the driver of the red sports car who was my stalking horse for speed traps *evilgrin*), that I had completely set aside any hunger or need for sustenance. I quickly pulled into a Mickey Dees to grab a bite since I know from experience how expensive and not entirely healthy Faire fare can be (not that McDonald's is a whole lot better, but I wasn't gonna take the time out for a longer but healthier meal). I start munching away and find that I'm not really that hungry and the drive to get to site takes over and I head on my way.

I arrive at the Ren Faire site and start to breathe easier. I get into my duffel bag in the trunk of my car, even though I failed to bring any garb with my on my trek to Texas, I did bring some of my specialty contacts just to mess with my students on the last day of class, and spiral eye contacts feel very appropriate to a day that I plan on revelling in the atmosphere and fully expecting Spirit to have a hand in how my day goes (Spirit loves to tap me on my shoulder when I think I'm on vacation). I walk forth with a song in my heart, a dance in my steps and a twinkle in my eyes.



As I am wont to do whenever I enter any type of maze-like creation I follow the left hand wall and quickly come to a store that has handcrafted dragons and other assorted creatures available. A nice young shopkeep comes by and shows me the range of abilities that the store's offerings have, when she offered to show me how the dragonet she was carrying could shake its rear, I refrained from the uncouth comment that my male underbrain offered with help from my chivalrous nature and just just smiled innocently while thanking her for her demonstration and continued my wandering though examining the workmanship of the various offerings.

There was sort of an antechamber off to one side with a rope guarding against unwanted intrusion, curious as my nature is often wont to be I wandered over to investigate. A small room filled with a gathering of some of the most beautiful and breathtaking creations were upon display, including a handsome green devil who looked into my eyes and said *Thou art mine, young human*

Entranced I reached over the rope guarding these royalty and gently scratched under the chin of his majesty. Another shopkeeper walked over and informed me that the roped area was primarily to keep younglings from disturbing the occupants of the room and offered to let me in to see them closer. I nodded dumbly though I felt unworthy of being in the presence of such fine beings. I only paid half attention to the patois of the sales agent while continuing to gaze upon the magnificence that was the Green Lord before me. Somehow I manage to croak a question about how much is the tithe for one of these creatures, and the answer staggered me.

Oh sweet miracle of conception! I'm thankful that I am a calm and collected person, as well as being an experienced roleplayer, since I managed to keep my first thoughts off of my face and from flowing past my lips. When I know I had my eyes back under control I looked to the gentlemen for probably the first time since I had laid eyes upon his majesty and simply said, "I cannot make that kind of decision now since I have just arrived at the faire, If the spirits are willing I will be back later."

With a backward glance and sigh I leave I leave the young green lord behind and wander further into the festivities. I wandered from spectacle to delight, but at the back of my mind was a little voice whispering *come back to me, my pet*

As I perused the offering of various merchants and sampled the ocasional delights I felt his lordship digging through my mind and memories. Suddenly a hidden memory was pulled to the forefront leaving me shaking with its intensity.

A memory of a Ren Faire from long ago whence I was almost destitute working for barely more than minimumly acceptable wages and my eyes were filled with sights and temptations beyond my reach. In the midst of this memory was a voice that sounded very similar to mine, "One day, all these dreams will be mine."

So I found myself drawn unerringly back towards the beginning of my journey and the one who I knew would be waiting for me there. I managed to detour long enough to procure more suitable attire for the faire. The young sales lass was very talented with her banter and mild ego stroking, thereby encouraging foolish males such as myself to purchase garb that we will wear only a handful of times.

I guess I can blame it on being a slow witted male or on being distracted by the Dragon nudging the back of my mind, but I completely missed at what point I suddenly became an object of flirtation. I even had my teeth checked to make sure I had them all. Does that mean its no longer flirtation when you get treated like livestock? *evilgrin*

Slightly befuddled, which I know isn't an overly unusual state of being for me, I walked into the nearby shoppe from whence the siren call has been beckoning to me all day. I stood there entranced looking into his eyes while trying to checking my mental accounts to see if I could arrange for enough gold to purchase the privelege taking care of my green lord.

The mental image of weighing scales kept moving as the pros and cons wandered through to be measured and added to the growing debate overseen by a smiling green dragon who knew the outcome already. Can I buy him, should I buy him, can I afford to breath after I buy him, and how can I live without him? These questions and more kept filtering through my thoughts.

Finally a resolve coalesces as I think about how the wheel of life turns... The last time I was at a faire I was not able to fulfill my dreams, but this time I am in a place on the wheel I can avail myself of this opportunity with no way of knowing whether or not I will be able to do so again during some future turn of the wheel.

It was time to commit myself...



Since I can not think of a good way to travel on the plane without making things uncomfortable for my young green lord I make arrangements for him to be sent to me in Georgia. No longer driven as I was, I step out of the shop to recollect my thoughts.

Someone calls my name which snaps me out of my reverie since I'm very far off my beaten path and I turn to see the young sales lass from the clothing shoppe. After some small talk I escort the lass to visit my green lord again. I'm sure the sparkle in her eyes was entirely for the beautiful magnificence that is my new companion. *sigh* Dragons get all the girls.



The Dragon Keepers inform me about an essay contest wherein I could possible win a mate for my new companion. Not being one to deny any of his wishes I promise my new friend that I will endeavor to wax eloquent on his behalf. It could be possible if love and luck are with us for my friend to become mated, one never knows when lightning could strike.

Later as I the faire grounds and made the walk back to my rental car, searching my heart and mind to find out what my Green Lord's name is since the young sales lass had asked and at the time I hadn't found the answer. Shortly after realizing that my Lord's name is Andranthalus and elated with joy at the discovery, I also realized that I hadn't the foggiest notion what the young lady's name was either *Doh!* My dragon bedazzled thoughts kept me from realizing that I should have asked her what she was doing this evening after the faire closed.

*Sigh* My only defense is that I'm male, thereby doomed to be slow witted. Its for the best I suppose since I have to drive another 300 miles to get back to my hotel in Corpus. Though I briefly entertain warm thoughts while I drive of what could have been had this young otter had more confidence and skill with the opposite gender. At least I know I will see my new dragon companion again, hopefully waiting for me when I return to Atlanta.

If you would like to see more pictures from the Faire, click here. Though be warned, since I am a relatively young and healthy male, there are a few pictures of scantily clad nymphs to be found along that path. *evilgrin*

It's fitting that I start this next entry while I sit here on the beach in Corpus Christi, I won't type for too long out of sheer paranoia for the effects of the salt air on my delicate laptop components, but it must be done. Both between the promises made and the sheer idea of blogging cellularly from the sea shore.

Before I allow myself to digress as I am very capable of doing, let me get to the wisdom of the moment.

Whatever you do, when you go to ocean or the gulf coast, or any body of water for that matter, make sure you leave your cell phone in the vehicle when you decide in your apple martini daze to go swimming out in the warm salty ocean water.

I'm not kidding... this is very bad for the delicate electronics of your cell phone.

There is no recovery of any the phone numbers that you have stored in the old phone that you have absolutely no way of recovering since the people have since moved on from the locations or methods by which you would otherwise contact them.

Can you tell I speak from the voice of experience?

Another lesson for all and sundry to take dear to heart, if you use your cell phone as your little black book or your place to store all important information, back up the information. Preferably on some kind of paper format.

(oh and for sake of total and complete honesty, since the cellular internet thingy {technical term for the card, don't forget it, cellular internet thingy, there will be a test} can't seem to find a signal out here on the coast this is actually being typed and saved to be uploaded later.)

I could keep typing but you know what? I really think I'm gonna turn off the computer and start heading out into the ocean, past the point where the water is over my head and face my fears head on (have I mentioned that I am not the world's most confident swimmer?)

Remind me to tell you later about the time I went swimming in the Gulf of Mexico when I was a teenager when my fear of drowning was at an all time high, but for now the water and my attempts to control my fear beckon to me.

Oh BTW its very important to pay attention to the passage of time and the progress of the tide so that one doesn't get one's vehicle trapped in the ocean *grin*

Actually I ran across this excellent novel as an Amazon.com recommendation and I am very glad I clicked on the link to add it to my shopping cart. I managed to to finish it a couple nights ago. There were a few moments that felt formulaic, but that may have simply been a product of the fact that I have been reading contemporary fantasy novels for awhile now but haven't read this one even though it was written back in the late 80s so it may not have been when it came out. Much of what I have read has been published well after that.
There were several things in the novel that spoke to me, including the lyrics to one of the songs that the main character writes:

Drinking coffee,

Have to stay awake and think of you.

Aching awfully,

Knowing my perceptions aren't true.

If you were what I've made you

Not as your acts betrayed you

How could I keep away?

But things will lead me on.

A word, and then it's gone.

What lives here, and what's stray?

Tell me, please, what's signal and what's noise?

Interference

Or is that the broadcast that I've got?

Your appearance

Renders me incapable of thought.

Here's your voice on the phone.

Your sweet and sullen tone,

What am I to believe?

Did you blow me a kiss

Or was that just tape hiss?

When I hang up, will you grieve?

Have pity, now, what's signal and what's noise?

Here's your photo,

I found it cleaning out my bottom drawer.

When you wrote, oh,

I couldn't keep from wondering what for.

Through the gray, through the grain,

A picture taken in the rain,

That doesn't show your face.

Connected dots don't make a line,

You confuse me every time,

Confusion has its place,

But just this once, what's signal and what's noise?

trying to seperate signal and line noise can definitely be considered one of the major themes of my life. Mixed signals and confusion abound, difficult or nonexistant communication has plagued most if not all of the relationships in my life.

Is there really a point to this post? Even I'm not sure *evilgrin*

I ran across this very interesting site when browsing another blog a couple weeks ago. PostSecret is a site where someone mails the site owner a self made postcard baring a secret that they couldn't otherwise share. Selections are posted by the site owner in such a way as to ensure complete anonymity. The secrets range from dark and moving to light and humorous.

I spent a lot of time thinking about what I would send in as a postcard. A number of hidden parts of myself decided to come out to play and remind me that as much as I've tried to put some things behind me and accept about myself there are still things that are uncomfortable to re-examine. Many of this I have set aside as future blog offerings since I feel that I would not be true to myself or my mission statement for this blog if I wasn't willing to discuss these things without hiding behind the veil of anonymity. I am who I am, for better or worse, accept me or not.

Though I still ponder and search myself on occasion to see if I happen to find something that I can't say in this venue and would tempt me to create such a postcard. That could be an interesting day if I find something that if I find one of those secrets that prompts me to such an endeavor.

Anyways, one of the more humorous postcards I have seen is this one and it's helped me keep a smile on my face at work.

For many a year now, one of the ways I've managed to prove my dementia is by occasionally asking very strange questions or offering very bizarre comments. And just like anyone who is too cerebral for their own good sometimes, usually these comments aren't random or without meaning but are generally obscure or cryptic to those who hear them.

One of these phrases, or rather question is, "What do you think of the metaphysical properties of cheese?" Usually the responses have ranged from strange looks that can be interpreted as a desire to flee from this raving lunatic to actual discussions of the merits of various cheeses (After all, Swiss cheese is very Holy!).

So without further ado or perambulating I now present the origin and true meaning behind this phrase.

Long time ago in a galaxy far, far away... err...

It was a dark and stormy...

In the days of yore...

okay... maybe a little bit of perambulating.

I honestly can't remember if it was my freshman or my sophmore year of high school, but it was early in my high school career. A handful of our group was sitting on one of the benches that lined one of the breezeways. To further establish the picture let me admit that my friends and I weren't members of any of the "popular" groups. You know the ones, filled with the beautiful who appeared to have perfect lives and could get anything or anyone they wanted with a snap of their fingers. In short, we were geeks, nerds, and wierdos and damn well proud of it. We were the anti-clique and exhibited our individuality daily, and not in the typical conforming to the nonconformist way like the goths. Suddenly, I realize that I'm being tempted to veer from the topic again *smack*.

Anyways, there we were a handful of us "invisibles" sitting in the breezeway when a lovely young lass that one of our number (a compact young man of british descent) was cherishing a small flame for was walking down the path. In a sudden moment of inspiration and desperate attempt to appear intellectual and cultured my friend turned to the rest of us and asked, "What do you think of the metaphysical properties of cheese?"

In terms of dramatic moments of the pursuit of young love it went over exactly how you would probably expect. It failed miserably. At least in regards to the young lady in question, however a new code phrase was born for our group. Now when in a public setting we could bring attention to a particulary wholesome sight if someone wasn't paying attention by use of the key phrase, or sometimes to indicate to one another our interests in certain young ladies without being uncouth about it.

And of course being males as time went on variations came into existence that did cross the line a bit into the realm of being a bit crude but only if one knew the meaning behind the original phrase. "I think that cheese would be rather tasty..." and such like.

This and a couple of similar things lead into a conversation about intellectual snobbery that I will save for a later blog.

Until next time.

There are many moments in our lives that be fulfilling and deeply spiritual, but one that I feel may often get overlooked by most people is the time you spend in the shower. On many levels it is a moment of cleansing and reflection.

There is no exacting ritual like that of the Japanese Tea Ceremony, but it is nonetheless a moment of zenlike transcendence where you can let the body follow the path towards cleanliness (which it has been remarked is closer to claustraphobia and cleavage rather than godliness which itself is closer to goggles), while one lets the mind go...

Some of my better moments of inspiration have arrived while in the process of body and soul maintenance that one undergoes with the application of hot water raining down on one's head.

I have ignored innuendos about my time spent in the shower, shrugged off the opinions of people who feel that the time in the shower is something to be rushed through. Anything less than twenty minutes in the shower is mere dabbling. I have affixed a mirror in the shower so that I may shave and brush my teeth whilst in the shower, all bathroom duties take place in the extended cleansing experience.

This is albeit purely a matter of personal opinion and something that I haven't done any kind of survey, formal or informal, to investigate but I feel that anyone who claims that they don't *ahem* urinate while showering is either lying or has severe issues that they need to address. You are already in a moment of cleaning the body and soul, so why not release all stored toxins to be carried away...

And you may be going, "Oh man! Why did he have to go there!" Life and growth is not about just the pretty things in life. Think about what the primary ingredient of natural fertilizer is and how much better crops and gardens grow when they receive.

In order to fully examine oneself and one's life, you need to look at the dark moments as well as the light ones. Own and accept every part of who you are.

Namaste'

The other day I took a drive down amnesia lane and was reminded of a time back in my high school career, I was one of the first members of my circle of friends who gained the ability to drive.

So that's what we did. Drive. Everywhere and nowhere. The destination wasn't important, it was just a matter of being out on the roads travelling. An afternoon or evening out for us wasn't about hanging out with the cool people down at the mall, or getting into various types of trouble that are common ailments of teenager life, but simple about travelling the open road usually accompanied by our own mix tapes of music instead of the often drab offerings of the only rock station available to us (the sad story of how the owners of that radio station bought out their more popular competition and chanegd their venue to country music is a rant for another day). Over time we managed to explore quite a bit of the back roads and neighborhoods of the city, some of it is lost to me in the mists of time, but I'm still confident with only minor mistakes I could be taken blindfolded to just about any place in that city and remaining blindfolded be able to navigate after being told where I was located.

I had a habit of pulling up next to other drivers at stop lights and asking them, "Pardon me, but do you have any Grey Poupon?"

Usually I would get a laugh and then when the other driver indicated sadly that they did not have any to share, I would pick up the jar that I kept on my console and offer them some of mine. *Smile* That jar stayed in my car for several years, its only purpose was as tool for this joke since I would not become a fan of spicy mustard until many years later. At that time I was still fairly limited and conservative in my culinary experiences.

We managed to develop or sometimes just spontaneously created several interesting ways to interact with other drivers. One of the best examples was a time when we took a roadtrip to Atlanta to visit my Fairy Godmother (yet another story for another time) who had already graduated and gone off to Agnes Scott College. Somehow we ended up wandering around the downtownish area of town, the only one of us with any clue on navigating the area had very little exposure since she spent most of her time on campus. So there were a couple time when we would be in the left turn lane when she would annouce "turn right", needless to say being young and bold meant that several basic driving rules were chucked out the window and we made a right turn (also the fact that the roads were fairly empty at the time helped also).

We were stopped at a light when a car full of boys pulled up next to us who had decided to ride around without wearing any shirts that day. So my one friend who was in the backseat looks over and observes these fine upstanding memebers of the gentry and was heard to ask with an exaggerated nasal whine, "Excuse me, are you wearing any pants?"

I will admit, that as funny as that comment was, my first thoughts at the time was "Oh my god, we're gonna die" We were not exactly an athletic group of people and none of use were known for our bravery even though our carload outnumbered theirs, so there was a collective sigh of relief when someone else observed, "Good thing our windows are rolled up."

Emboldened by this observation, several more comments and questions were directed to the other car for the next several lights, including, "Excuse me, Are you jewish?"

To this day I occasionally will look over at another vehicle beside me when stopped at an intersection and have an insane smile on my face.

Following the path of spirit and intuition tonight, not really hungry for anything in particular, I wander the streets of a city not my own looking for a place to have my evening sustenance. As it would happen my meanderings led me to the Olive Garden which was doubly strange since I had italian cuisine for lunch and I generally space out having the same type of meals.

So this missive goes out to the two elderly ladies who had a table next to mine that pulled me into their discussion of cults and the nature of evil. The answers that you seek are available to you, as you well know it is always better to question your existence than accept what is handed to you on blind faith. Thank you ladies for reminding me of that.

Blessed be, and let spirit accept you with the warmth and love that you are due.

I sit here in the airport using my new wireless cellular internet device (my roomies talked me into it after seeing the 12 or so partial blogs I have started *grin*, they want me to keep writing whenever possible) as I wait on my flight to board and my heart rate to slow down, I'm thankful that some lessons we have to relearn on a regular basis don't have to be as drastic and painful as they could be.
As I am in the habit of doing, I procrastinated when it came to packing for my trip. After puttering around, spending several hours organizing the DVDs I would take for entertainment, filling my MP3 player with music and audiobooks, approximately 11 o'clock last night I surged into a flurry of packing and clothes decisions and gathering toiletries. So far I've already realized I've forgotten to grab any of my sunglasses, which would have been useful for bright and sunny Texas. I expect to have more adventures from that later, but I won't beg any more trouble about that now.
One of my roomies drove me to the airport while we listened to one of the comedy channels on his Sirius satellite radio. When we got close to the airport he asked, "You're flying American right?"
Since that was the airline I had flown last time that work sent me to Texas, without missing a beat I replied with an eloquent, "Yep!"

and the flight is boarding so I will share the rest of this in about 2 hours or so *grin* since I can't use the cell access on the flight.. be back in a bit.


... and I'm back and sitting in my hotel room which I will go into later *grin*, but for now I will go back to the thread as I had to leave it.

Oh yeah, my room mate dropped me off at the North terminal, I gathered my bags, waved and he drove off. I walk into the terminal walk up to the self serve American Airlines check-in kiosk and slide my card while thinking to myself that I hope I have enough time since the line at the security gate is much longer than the last time that I took this trip at pretty much the same time on a previous sunday morning.
"Look up reservation by ... (gives several options)"
Hmmm... strange last time it came up with my itinerary immediately. Okay. *rummages around in laptop bag until I find my itinerary print out* Let's see let's choose search by flight number...
"Flight Information Not Found, Try Again?"
*shrug* strangeness. I look again at my printout trying to figure out if I mistyped the flight number.

I had in fact not mistyped my flight number... For my Delta Airlines flight. Okay, now its time for a bit of adrenaline.
Not only did I have the wrong airline, I'm in the wrong terminal!
My room mate had just dropped me off, he can't be too far away. *dig through stuffed pockets for cell phone* Ring. Ring. Ring. Voicemail. {Deleted by Sayburr}

Back out the doors to try and find a taxi to take me to South Terminal. After walking awhile and asking directions of a nice police officer sitting in a little booth out of the sun and heat I kept walking to where the taxi cabs were waiting for fares.
So I step up, put my bags in the trunk and tell the driver I need a ride to the South terminal.

Since I was being all stuck in my mind about my silly refusal to double check my itinerary when my roomie asked to confirm that I was flying American or not, I managed to completely miss the look that I was given by the cabbie as if I had grown a third head.

Ya know, every other major city airport that I've ever been to when there are multiple terminals, these refer to multiple buildings. (The L.A. airport quickly comes to mind). But evidently the Atlanta airport feels that they need to do a bit of sleight of hand to make themselves sound bigger (not that its really that small of an airport to begin with), and to make a long story short I had to get my bags out of the back of the taxi and keep walking around another corner of the building while the cabbies did their best to wait until I was out of earshot before laughing at me.

I make it through the gamut of blood pressure between check in and security and having to force my way onto a very full tram to get to the concourse that my flight was leaving from. I'm walking along looking for gate 13...

Did you know that there are no Gate 13's at the Atlanta Airport? I look at my boarding pass again... How did I get 13 out of 35? *shrug* which means I took a wrong turn after I got off the escalator from the Tram area. *trudge trudge*

Despite all of the twists and turns I still got to the gate 30 minutes before they started boarding.

Did you know that you can't get alcohol in the Atlanta airport before 12:30 on sundays? Not that I needed it to fly but I really would liked to have had a glass of nice Cabernet to help get my heart rate and adrenaline surge under control. Well no, I know how to do that without it, but I still would have appreciated it right then!

Oh and did you know that when you have to go board your plan you have to walk outside and hope and pray that you are following the correct line of people through the little maze of traffic cones to the correct plane? Especially when you were typing away on your blog with your cellular internet hook up and missed the beginning of the boarding calls and only heard the final boarding call *evilgrin*

So it wasn't til after they had closed the door of the plane did I get any actual confirmation that I was on the right plane (the actual plane I had ended up getting into was some strange twist in the universe on the other side of the building from where the gate numbers where posted on the inside)

the minor adventures of the actual flight are not really worth getting into, but a few things from post flight are worth mentioning.

Did you know that the Hertz guy actually asked me, "Well it looks like you weren't set up with the special rate for {insert name of my company here} would you like to change that even though it would be a higher rate?"

*blink blink... pause for three beats*

"No thank you, I will stay with the cheaper rate."

I also couldn't figure out why they had parked the Rental cars so that I couldn't put my very heavy bags in the trunk easily (back bumper to back bumper with the car in the spot behind it), but then again as I carefully searched I could not find any way to open the trunk. I could not find a keyhole, nor button or switch inside the car (and yes I checked the glove box also) that would open the trunk.

Then I eventually get to the Hotel. This is not the same hotel that I stayed at last time, its in a better part of town and is actually within walking distance of almost all of the places I ate or played at last time I was here. After checking in and getting my room key I finally enter the room, nice layout! Much roomier and comfortable than the place I stayed last time. Okay time to unpack and set everything up... Strange, I don't see a desk...
Where is the dataport that was advertised? *rummage through obligatory hotel paraphenalia*
Data connections are limited to 1200 Baud through the hotel phone lines!!!
What the {Saybur}?!?

*grumble grumble*
I guess its a very good thing that I made the decision to go ahead get the cellular modem thingy yesterday (which had its own adventures and I got to the store for that just before they closed) otherwise I would have had an internet free couple weeks and I didn't bring that many DVD movies (well I did but you know what I mean)


The lesson that I'm taking away from all this?

It doesn't matter how many twists and wrong turns you take you will always make it to where you are supposed to be when you are supposed to be there. Yeah I know it sounds triter than it really is. I'll come up with a better way to say it later, but right now I'm starting to jones for food and am going to shut down and see what fine dining I have in store for me this evening.

Until next time.