Clark we hardly knew yee

I'm very excited to see Clark Rockefeller back in the news again. This is a true American story. An immigrant travels to America to circumvent the countryside German schnitzel eating life and came to America's shores with a dream of what might be.

Through posturing and a light education Christian Gerhartsreiter ascended to the ranks of high society ultimately adopting one of our financial system's icons, Rockefeller, as his sir name. He woos a high society woman and sires a child, who proves the only foil to his cunning; his love for the child trumping any of his other aspirations.

Crazy, no I don`t believe him to be crazy in the clinical sense. But he had a dream, and dreams are sometimes crazy. Like the dreams of a toddler to one day travel in space, lead a nation or compose music that can tap the springs of human emotion. His dream was to live a life most are only afforded through their birthright. We all entertain aspirations of greatness, and once we cease to wonder what could be, we cease to live.

Dream on Mr. Rockefeller, dream on sir.

(If the murders in California are found to be a result of his handiwork, I take this all back.)

The weekend

My life completely follows the rhythm of the seven day week. Monday through Wednesday I hunker down to the demands of work, Thursday through friday I slowly level my gaze to see the approaching weekend and all it promises.

Now for the majority of my young adulthood I have allowed my weekend nights command my waking hours of Saturday & Sunday. And though I have not suddenly become a teetotaler, I have begun to see the great merit to productive activity during the daylight hours of the weekend. However one choses to allocate them, the weekends are truly ours for the taking.

This weekend approaching is shaping up to be a big one. Tomorrow night I leave for parts west to construct a deck for a dear friend's parents. An ambitious venture, I will be accompanied by a few lads and together we aim to be enjoying coffee on the structure by Sunday morning. I will post pictures detailing the success or failure.

Coincidentally, It just so happens that a friend is performing out in western Massachusetts Saturday night, and not an hour away from the job site. We hope to catch the show and all the happy valley has to offer.

Sunday I will be returning home just in time to unload my tools and head back out west to Worcester to catch the most recent reincarnation of the venerable Grateful Dead. I am sure this will be quite a cultural event, though which side of it I will fall on, voyeur or participant, I cannot tell.

Monday I hope to participate in the celebration of Patriots day and the great Boston Marathon. I was previously extended an invitation to a party in Boston, and should this work out, I expect there to be some talent about. Springtime and single, there could be worse things.

So there it is.

Back on the Scene

So by no conscious choice of my own, I have once again found myself walking the streets of online dating Town.

The nostalgia is there, and as I harken back, I can almost feel the pre-first date excitement felt while attempting to synthesise the young ladies through the exchanged emails and phone calls. I always arrive early and wait outside in an attempt to eliminate the akward crowd searching one has to perform when trying to spot someone in a crowd who you've only seen in pictures. After a few false alarms perhaps, your date rounds the corner and your laptop stealthily pays its tab and retires for the evening as it has done its job. Based upon a picture, a specific like/dislike, or possibly a profile line that stood out to you in Arial Black font, this moment was initiated and there is no turning back.

I think I need some new profile pictures. The question is in which light do I wish to present myself. I`ve heard from females that they routinely recon other ladies' profiles in an attempt to refine their own page. I will not conduct a parallel study. I have no desire to study some yeah-dude's electronic pickup line - I wonder if I my top drawer has been ransacked by some friggin Dude from Peabody? Not one to carry a camera I have very few pictures proving that I am in fact alive nervermind a source of intrigue to a 27 year old adventurous RN living in Brookline with her 3 best friends (who are amazing!). So I guess I can dress in my bar assault clothes and have my sister snap a few candids of me. Or perhaps get some of the idiots together and stage a buddy pic to prove I am not a video game playing recluse. Of course I can use my nephew or niece to demonstrate my love of children while contrasting it with a picture of me banging nails at my house to convey the sensitive/tough dichotomy.

I`d like to think that some well arranged words are far more enticing than a picture in which the lighting somehow dramatically captures my triceps forcing the unsuspecting young coyote to right click my picture and save me as her desktop.

In any event the game is on. I`ve been active for about a week and a half and there are potentially some $25 dollar bar tabs in my future; perhaps even a $50. However, I do plan on mixing up the destinations. The game of picking a bar/lounge that matches my clothes is fun but I'm gonna throw in some random activities too. I`m thinking a flea market would be a good time.

And also my tactics have changed. Previously I practiced the shock & awe strategy where thin profiles were givin the benefit of the doubt. Spend some time on your writing ladies. Less pictures of you at the redsox game and show me why you "love sarcasm". I don`t think I`m asking too much

Off I go

Carve a happy face on your pumpkin baby...

An update from the front… It’s a cold night in Arlington and I’m huddled around the last of my firewood. The house is cold but the embers of hope burn still. I can’t help but feel the gravity of the moment as we near Election Day. It’s hard to tell whether or not this will be a pivotal moment in our history as a country, our history as a civilization. Has the high water mark been hit and is the tide slowly receding off the beaches of our collective coast? Will the leader we elect this week coming determine our future and the same for our offspring?

This post may be worthy of a “shut up & sing” type response but seeing as though I have a vote & a blog I see no reason why I can’t fire my guns as I wish. The discussion of our union in the corridors of America is one few are willing to take part in. Intelligent discourse of political issues is most often derailed by hyperbole, questions of patriotism, and the overall lack of mutual respect. I believe this is part of the self inflicted disenfranchisement that is revealed each time the polls close.

I consider myself of average political knowledge, and if I may, I would like to regurgitate my consumption of mass media fed knowledge as we approach this feast of democratic fervor. (What does that mean?) The steady barrage of information can only leave the average citizen feeling like a punch drunk boxer. Looking past the mind numbing colloquialisms thrown out as bait to the masses (i.e. Joe the plumber/hockey mom, Change You can Believe In etc.), I find it difficult to make an educated decision based on policy alone. I feel like I know each candidates interpretation of their opponent better than the planks of either’s platform.

A summation:
Obama has no executive experience whatsoever. If Obama is elected we will witness the dawn of a socialist society, and taxes will be increased enabling the lazy lower class to reap the benefits of those who have worked & saved. Obama hates white people, is a terrorist, and will make concessions to external threats and undermine the accomplishments which our servicemen have achieved in their defense of our flag. Obama will cave to the ultra-environmental lobby and refuse to allow fossil fuel exploration and harvesting within America proper, thus continuing the hemorrhaging of American dollars to China & the Middle East.

McCain if elected will continue on the polices of the Bush Administration which have pandered to the corporate interests and resulted in “golden parachutes” for the masters of the universe as the average Joe’s (I don`t think I can use Joe any more) retirement fund sinks like a stone. The middle class will whither in number while wealth is further consolidated amongst the elite. McCain will continue the alienation of American society from the outside world with heavy handed flexing of American muscle. America’s remaining natural beauty will be trampled and destroyed by the tank treads of the big oil mechanism in its search for minimal oil reserves.

Perhaps naively, my optimism is still tempered by grandiose dreams of this country we call home. I know we are not perfect and our history has been marked with occasions where our better judgment has been bested by ignorance and short sighted self interest. Some are quick to lay blame on leaders who have led the country astray. But the population of America is responsible for the country’s actions. We cannot share the wash bowl with Pontius Pilot. We have all enjoyed the benefits of our country’s previous decisions both domestic and foreign, and similarly we must all share in the blame. We are all stowaways on this ship of fools. Aside our elected officials do we stand in triumph and defeat. Our economy is built upon the efforts of the common laborer; our government is supported by the common taxpayer, and our freedom is maintained by the sacrifices of the common soldier.

Tuesday November 4th we will watch our preferred news provider as each state is colored with its chosen hue. The myriad of issues facing our country; homeland security, foreign policy, the economic crisis, energy policy; (intimate bedfellows all of them), will have to be addressed by the chosen horse.

Let us do this thing.

No Heat, but a fire for online dating...

The house has yet to be equipped with heat so I sit here typing my first blog entry accompanyed by the tortured dancings of a slowly diminishing fire. The cold is descending upon us once again and with its entrance so departs another summer of record. I feel that as I grow older the distinction between the seasons becomes less and less distinct.

This summer was spent at work on my house, drinking, and the odd electronic borne date. I would argue that summer is the slow season for internet dating, what with vacations and the more conventional options for encounters with the opposite sex. With the fall comes sweatshirts, laptops, and a chance to refresh your online profile. Maybe you can post that awesome picture of you and your friends at your sister's boyfriends capehouse dancing to Journey after a long night of twisted teas? Or how about that awesome shot of when you were out at the club with your friend who got you to the front of the line, because she knew that annoying kid with the blow out, and you saw Paul Peirce? Or maybe you are coming off an illconceived summer romance and its time to get back in the trenches and do this thing.

Either way I`m out here and I just bought a new pair of jeans so lets get after it.