Especially For Diabetics

Some of you know that I sell software for diabetics. Specifically, it is software for PalmOS-based PDAs. While I don't do much development on this software anymore, it is still useful to many. The market is shrinking, and I actually hope that the need for the software will be gone eventually. Many pumps, for example, offer some of the features I have in Logbook DM, such as calculating boluses for you automatically.

I actually don't care about making money from this software any longer. However, in an effort to be fair to the competition, I have decided not to make this software available for free. There are, in fact, others who sell competing products that are, in fact, trying to make money.

However, I thought I would make my Diabetic O.C. readership an exclusive offer. And, you are welcome to forward this information to anyone who isn't in the Diabetic O.C., but you feel might be interested. For all of February, if you purchase Logbook DM from Handango, you can use the coupon code 623B7A47 to get the software for $10 off. This means it is only $2 instead of $12. Now, don't worry...you don't have to buy it outright. You can download it and try it out for free. But if you feel it is useful, this is a chance to get it for practically nothing.

I'm honestly not doing this to drum up sales or anything. In fact, I debated whether to use this blog as a means to communicate this information. But, I figured why not. It is my blog, after all, and it is my software. Why not give the O.C. an advantage?

So, if you know any other diabetics who use PalmOS-based PDAs, let them know. In fact, one of our fellow O.C. folks was formerly a user of Logbook DM. (I believe, however, he jumped to the Pocket PC platform...and Logbook DM doesn't work on Pocket PC.) Anyhow, ask Scott what he thinks of the software. (Go ahead. I dare you.)

Anyhow, this offer is especially for you, my fellow diabetics. At least through the end of February. (Handango makes you put a time limit on offers, in case you're wondering.) To use the code, add Logbook DM to your cart, where it will then ask you to enter the coupon code (623B7A47).

Food, Glorious Food

Food. Glorious food. It is something we all have in common. A need...and perhaps even a love...for food. And I certainly have my share of foods I love. Can you say "Chocolate", anyone?

There are certain foods I find particularly satisfying and at the same time quite healthy. (Chocolate is a health food, is it not?) These are what I would consider to be perfect foods. Not necessarily the best tasting in the world or anything that will win earn a place in Emeril Lagasse's next cooking show, but I struggle to find foods which are more perfect than these.

Probably at the top of my list of perfect foods is Chili. Chili con carne. Chili with beans. Chili con carne with beans. Mild or hot, pretty much any chili is great. Not only is chili filling (from the meat), but it has a great blend of high fiber (beans), and a rich source of vitamins (the tomatoes). I can eat chili every day. Often I do. And now that Wendy's lets you substitute their fries for a small chili, I can even get it when fast-food is the order of the day. The downside to chili is that it is hard to predict how it will impact your blood sugar levels.

Next up...Kashi Go-Lean Crunch. Okay, I'll admit, I was a bit leery of this cereal when it first came out. I had tried another Kashi cereal, and it pretty much tasted like twigs. But I was looking for a cereal that was high in fiber (more than 4 grams per serving). Go-Lean Crunch easily fits the bill at 8 grams. On top of that, unlike most cereals, it is packed with 9 grams of protein. But to top it off, it actually tastes good. Granted, it isn't a taste you expect at first. In fact, when I first tried it, I wasn't sure if I'd like it. But it turns out it is a cereal that tastes better the longer it sits in milk. Even after waiting fifteen minutes, this cereal stays crunchy in milk, but the taste improves with each bite. Rather addicting. The downside to this cereal, however, is price. It tends to be expensive, so I don't buy it as often as I'd like. Usually I buy the off-brand version of Frosted Mini-Wheats (which comes in around 5 grams of fiber). But if you find Go-Lean Crunch (in the white box) on sale, give it a try.

Finally, is Homemade Brand's Serious Chocolate Premium Ice Cream. Let me tell you, as a connesewer...uh...conniesuer...uh...connoisseur of chocolate, I've tried just about every chocolate ice cream in existence. But Serious Chocolate is the best, bar none. Okay, so it isn't healthy. But it is delicious beyond words, especially if you let it warm up to that point just before it melts. The only problem is that it seems to be difficult to find. Kroger doesn't carry it at all, and Meijer is rather spotty about it. But if you manage to find it, and you love chocolate as much as I do (although, I find that hard to fathom)...give it a go.

Oh, sure, there are plenty other foods...but those rank at the top at the moment. What about you? What are your foods you absolutely love?

Walking "The Walk"

Everyone needs a toolbox with some very basic tools. Hammer, at least two screwdrivers (Philips and flathead), a wrench, plyers, and, of course, duct tape. By the way, watch out for "duck tape", which is a poor imitation of duct tape which takes advantage of the common mispronunciation. It is definitely not "duck tape".

And in the land of fatherhood, it turns out there are a few necessary tools to be effective. At least with young kids. So, I thought I'd share them with you.

The Walk

This isn't just any walk. This is the "I mean business, and you'll be sorry you dared not come when I call you" walk. It is a very determined walk. Brisk, but not running...arms swinging enough to draw attention to both of your fists...and the fists, of course, are to highlight your extreme disapproval.

When used correctly, The Walk incites instant regret for having disobeyed. No further disciplinary action is often necessary since they are typically in tears by the time you grab them by the shirt and toss them over your shoulder. But you can't give in yet...this is where the next tool comes in

The Look

Made famous by mothers everywhere, The Look can be utilized by fathers as well. However, fathers need to be careful about overusing The Look, because otherwise you risk just looking goofy, and inciting laughter as a response. The Look is a narrowing of the brow in combination with a slight frown, lips pursed. It is highly effective after The Walk because it lets your child know they aren't off the hook yet. You are still disappointed in them, and you don't want them to forget it.

The Look is useful in other situations as well, and can sometimes be effective just prior to needing The Walk. Just that stare will cause them to cower in fear and come running to you without the need to go chasing after them. Now, as I mentioned, mothers have a whole host of other uses and variations on The Look. Men, however, need to keep it limited.

The Joke

Actually, this isn't a single joke, though it could be. It is the fact that this father likes to try to make jokes that his kids find entirely (and forgive me for using the "s" word here)...stupid! Yet, this view of a "completely pathetic jokester called Dad" that the kids have is important to the relationship. It helps develop a sense of not only self-worth, but grants them permission to make fools of themselves sometimes without falling apart. If Dad can embarrass himself by telling humorless humor, I guess we can face embarrassing situations as well.

That's the theory, anyhow. Don't know if it is working. But, if you every hear me mention "pickles", you now have a bit of insight into the hilarity (or lack thereof) I can come up with my kids.

"What's for breakfast, Dad?"

"Pickle cereal!"

"What kind of cake are you making?"

"Pickle cake!"

Absurd, perhaps. But, what's wrong with a little absurdity among family?

The Sermon

Do you know this one? The ability of a father to make a child feel utterly remorseful for the slightest of things by offering them The Sermon. Of course, no two "Sermons" are exactly the same, but they can all be bundled together. The Sermon is an opportunity for a father to share how things were when he was a child, and how that makes the injustices of today in their lives seem rather impotent. Okay, so I didn't walk uphill both ways to school...but I did live without cable and a VCR (uh...DVD player) until I was about ten or eleven, which is, clearly, far worse than walking uphill both ways to school.

The Sermon is amazingly effective. Just a few days ago, I managed to influence their complete method of playtime with a Sermon. I told them how acting out what they see on television (or, more specifically, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) isn't anything special. Anyone can act out what they see. What is really special is when they can come up with something to pretend all on their own.

My son's response? "Uh. We don't know how to do that."

So, see? Very effective indeed.

Anyhow, I think that's enough for now. If you don't already have these tools in your toolbox of fatherhood, you need to work on them. Of course, if your kids are considerably older, then you're on your own...because I'm a bit of a procrastinator, and I haven't purchased the tools I need for the teen years, which I believe involve a straight-jacket, a water barrel, hammer and nails, and a drill for air holes.

For the Cough of It

I tend to cough a lot. Mostly those annoying coughs that never quite clear away everything you wish it would, leaving you to cough again in a few seconds or a few minutes. It is annoying. Far more annoying, in my opinion, than having to deal with finger pokes or calculating insulin boluses.

Coughing, for me, can mean one of several things, the last of which tends to be that I'm actually coming down with something. More often than not it means allergies.

Back when I first started pumping, I was following the advice of placing a patch of Tegaderm or other such medical tape, and then inserting the infusion set through it. That worked for a few months, but I noticed I was coughing more and more. Eventually, the sites with tape were developing a rash and becoming itchy, and finally would start weeping within a day or two. I then went through a round of trying no fewer than twelve different tape products. Some were better than others, but all still resulted in a reaction. One day, my coughing was so bad that I literally pulled a muscle (or something) in my chest. I was in pain for weeks, and it never really completely healed.

Then I decided to forego the tape entirely. Just use the infusion set as is. Well, due to my dry skin, the tape didn't always stick as well, but my reactions ceased entirely. So, that's what I do today. Just say no to tape. Two things came out of that. First, I have an allergy to latex. Second, I have an allergy to most forms of adhesives, because many of the tapes I tries were not latex. (But the latex ones had the most severe reaction.)

But my coughing continued. Next up, seasonal allergies. Some people sneeze, other people get watery, itchy eyes, but I cough. The cough from allergies is livable, though, which is good, since I prefer not to take allergy medicine unless I have to. (A result of a lesson learned back in the days of Seldane before they found out it was killing people, which I won't go into here.)

There are times, however, when my coughing is pretty harsh. And this is the one that is important, because it is a sign of high blood sugar. Or, more accurately, rising blood sugar.

Frankly, I don't understand the physical aspects of it, and it isn't something that I've seen listed on any symptom sheet, but I can fairly accurately predict my BGL based on my cough. In fact, it is so accurate, that if I find myself suddenly coughing more, and I don't want to stop to test my BGL, I can make a correction bolus without risk of triggering low.

And I say that it is really more about rising bloog sugar than high because there is a point when the coughing stops. The coughing starts somewhere near the 160 mark, and grows more intense up to around 200. Then the cough starts to taper off until I'm up to about 240 or so. Also, the cough is influenced by how hydrated I am.

I spent the first fifteen years of my diabetic life never realizing that coughing meant anything. As far as I can recall, perhaps coughing never was a symptom prior to then. But once I put the connection together, it is yet another nice way to keep tabs on my BGL. It is another example of keeping tabs on your body's individual symptoms, and using them to the benefit of keeping control. So pay attention the next time you start coughing. Check your BGL, see if there is any correlation. Pay attention to the different types of cough, because just like there are many types of snow, there are many types of cough.

Please! Not again!

I want to publically thank my brother and sister-in-law for buying Charlie and the Chocolate Factory on DVD for my son this past holiday. Because my family (and by family, I mean those of us under the age of ten) has been watching the movie every day for, well, weeks I think. And singing the songs from the movie. Over. And over. And over. Again.

Okay, okay...so they bought it for my kids per our recommendation. And, okay, so we have parental control over what and how much they can watch. But I'll tell you right now, I'm about to throw the movie in the garbage can. (Only, that won't work, since our daughter seems to like finding things in the garbage...particularly edible things...) Just how many times can you listen to your children sing, "Chewing, chewing, all day long...chewing, chewing, all day long..."? Well, frankly, much like the Owl who must try to figure out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop, I just don't have the patience to find out.

The movie is, in all fairness, a good one. In fact, they have these special features where they teach the kids all the moves to the dances the Oompa-Loompas do. In a way, it is a form of Phys. Ed. But now, not only do they sing the songs over and over and...well, you understand...but they dance. They'll be walking through the living room and break into dancing, putting John Travolta's performance in Staying Alive to shame.

I think back to when I was this age, and I realize that we still didn't even have a way to watch movies at home. We had to wait until they were on network television, since we had neither cable nor a VCR. So, the obsession that kids can have with movies is a relatively new phenomenon. One, I must say, I'm not altogether pleased with. But then, in a day and age where allowing your kids to play outside puts them at risk of predators (of the human variety), there are limited options for what they can do inside our tiny house. Reading, of course...except that only our oldest is able to read.

So, they watch. And watch. And watch some more. And I'm sure that at some point tonight, after I walk through the doors, I'll have to tell my kids, "Please! Not again!" I'm rather certain of this, because earlier today my son called me at work and said, "Dad? Where's the Willy Wonka DVD?"

"In the garbage, son." (Okay, not really.)

Eternally Christmas

At our house, it is eternally Christmas. Not because of our never-ending joy, our desire for peace on earth 24/7, nor because of a spirit of giving. It is Christmas forever at our house because I never took the lights off the roof.

This is a horrible revelation, I know. I've just become one of "those" people to you, haven't I? But I'll be honest, up until last year, I was very diligent about the lights. They would come off as soon as good weather allows. But something happened last year. Maybe I was just lazy, though I'd like to think it was because I was overwhelmingly busy. And then we had snow, and ice, then rain, and then a few nice and sunny days which I just didn't feel like spending up on a ladder, and so I didn't. Next thing I knew, it was June. Lights still on the house. By this time, I didn't even notice them any more. And, well, it was already halfway through the year, so why bother taking them off now?

There was an up side to this, however, because this past holiday season, I never got around to putting lights on the bushes (which my son reminded me of on a daily basis)...and had the lights not been left on the whole year through, we probably would have had no holiday cheer proclaimed from the rooftops whatsoever. So, you see, it really was a good thing.

And just why am I telling you this now, as we approach the end of January? Well, I'm sorry/proud/embarrassed to say that the lights remain firmly attached to the shingles, and I'm considering going another whole year. Does that make me a bad person? Does that make me trailer trash? What does it make me?

The rest of the decorations have been down for weeks. But, honestly, I just don't feel like taking down the lights. So I'm not going to, and there's nothing you can do to make me.

But I would like to know if I'm alone in my resolve. Or, in the very least, am I alone in thinking it isn't a bad reflection of us? I could cheat. I could say that I'm leaving the lights on the house because we also decorate for Valentine's Day (which they do, in fact, sell lights for), St. Patrick's Day (and I am, in fact, part Irish), uh, April Fool's Day (and believe me, am I a fool at times), and well, you get the idea. But I'm not going to say that. I'm not going to lie.

But I do want someone, somewhere, to tell me its okay. I deserve to be a bit rebellious, stirring up trouble in my neighborhood. I know, I know, I'm a wild man. But, what can I say? It's eternally Christmas. Right? I said...right?

Oh, yes. By the way. In case you were wondering, my fingertips are back. Numbness gone.

Numb Fingertips

Have you ever fallen asleep on your own arms, and then hours later wake up to find that your arms have stopped functioning entirely? You roll over, but your arms don't move. You have to flop them around and look to make sure you still have them. Of course, within a minute or so, the blood flow returns and you miraculously regrow your arms.

This morning, I woke up with numb fingertips on one hand. Specifically, the thumb, pointer, and middle finger. My initial reaction was, "Whoa! That feels weird!" But I knew the feeling would return shortly.

But then it didn't. Now, two hours after I woke up, my fingertips are still numb. And, as a diabetic where neuropathy is certainly a major concern, it disturbs me a little. I'm giving it the day. There have been times when similar sensations have come, but disappear by the end of the day. For example, I frequently get this burning mixed with numb feeling just above my right knee, and it always starts while I'm sleeping. It kind of feels like a rugburn, but the skin isn't actually irritated. It is more internal. Anyhow, I've mentioned this to my doctor before, and he wasn't concerned. It happens probably once every few weeks.

I've never had this happen to my fingers though. I also wonder if it could be sign of dehydration, because due to some high blood sugars I had last night, I'm sure I woke up dehydrated. (If my ten trips to the bathroom last night were any indication.) I just opened up a water bottle here in case that's it.

I have trouble believing it is anything related to neuropathy. I mean, it doesn't happen that quickly. Does it? Overnight? Bam, you can't feel your fingertips.

We'll see. If I can't feel my fingertips by tomorrow, I'm calling the doc.

Calling All Eagles!

Are you an Eagle? Well, based on how many high schools and universities have made the Eagle their school mascot, good chances you are. I'm an Eagle. My wife is as well, actually. But not from the same school. In fact, she is only half an Eagle, because midway through her years in college, the college decided to forego its use of a specific Native American tribe name, and instead switch it to something politically correct. So, she went from being a Huron and became an Eagle.

My Eaglehood stems from my high school, however. Lakeland High School, actually. Which, ironically enough, is part of the Huron Valley School district. So, you see, right there you can tell we were meant for each other.

But I digress. Because the reason I'm calling all Eagles is because I realized today that this year, I've been out of high school for fifteen years. Amazing, really. Where did the time go? But this also make me realize that there is the potential of having a fifteen-year reunion. Yet, I haven't heard word of one. So in an attempt to take advantage of not only this blog, but also Google's search abilities, I thought I'd write an entry that has keywords in it. Lakeland, for one. Eagle, for another. And reunion. So, if any one of my fellow alumnists happen to do a search, they just might stumble upon my blog.

Then again, they might not. I'll admit, I like the idea of reunions. I attended my ten-year reunion and had some fun. Not a lot of fun, for you see, back in my high school days I wasn't exactly socially popular. I was in the geek crowd. No biggie. I liked it. Still, when student elections came around, I was far more likely to be voted "Most Likely To...Uh...Who Is This Guy Again?" than "Most Popular".

I found my little niche of friends at the reunion, however, so I was happy. It was nice to catch up, pick on each other, see what they were up to. Like Mark, who actually made it into the horror movie business. In high school, I remember reading some of his writing and learning just exactly what "morose" means.

So, for all those fellow Eagles from the class of '91...if you happen to stumble upon this blog, send me a note! Even if there is no reunion, with the miracle of modern technology, we can still "get together".

Hmm. It may be months...or years...before anyone stumbles upon this blog entry.

Mr. Sensitivity

In the broad spectrum of sensitivity in men, I certainly know that I fall closer to the "Falls to pieces at each and every Hallmark commercial" side of things than the "His face is chiseled in stone" side. I pride myself in being a real man who can cry.

The funny thing about my sensitivity is that I am often sensitive to things that perhaps I shouldn't be, but not to things I should. This, of course, frustrates my wife to no end. And I wish I could explain why it is. Maybe it is an ingrained need to be a "rock of stability" at times when my wife is feeling emotional about something. Yet, the downside to that is I cannot "mirror" her in those times, really feel what she feels. Finding the middle ground is difficult.

But then there are those things I feel very deeply, and typically about things that really have nothing to do with me or my wife. This morning was one of those moments.

Two nights ago, I went through all the CDs I had in my car and swapped them out for a new set of CDs. Now anyone who knows me knows I absolutely love Les Miserables. I always wanted to play the part of Jean Valjean. And Marius. And Javere. Fortunately, in the car, I can play them all...and Eponine and the Thenardiers, and everyone else as well.

Anyhow, the men who created Les Miserables (the musical, as opposed to the book that the musical is based from) also created Miss Saigon. And, just as I love Les Miz, I love Miss Saigon. Powerful stuff, even if I can't personally relate to much of anything in it.

So, today during my drive in to work, in no fewer than three distinct scenes, tears were streaming down my face. No, not just that, "Oh, my eyes are going to tear up, so I need to blink," feeling. But full-fledged tears. That's me, Mr. Sensitivity.

And I have to wonder why that is. Okay, so the writers want to you cry. I get that. But, I mean, why is it that I can cry about a fictional man telling his fictional wife what his fictional lover meant to him while he was a soldier in Vietnam, but the sad moments of real life I can keep my face completely dry?

I know, for myself, that emotions are a thing of logic. Specifically, I'm somewhat at a loss as to what I feel in emotional situations until afterwards, when I have time to think about things. What do I feel? Why did I react that way to that situation? Feelings come slowly, sometimes with a bit of pushing and prodding.

There is another downside to this. Because while my lows aren't as low as what my wife feels, my highs aren't as high either. It really takes a lot to get me truly excited about something. So, I suppose there is a trade-off. In the meantime, I continually strive to better understand the feelings of my wife, my children...but mostly myself.

And for the record, I haven't cried at a Hallmark commercial in a really long time. Really.

A World Without Pull-Ups

Imagine there's no Pull-Ups,
It's easy if you try,
No smell below us,
Above us only smiles,
Imagine all the children
in underwear...

Okay, so it's not quite Lennon's song, but I think it has a far more realistic dream to imagine. At least in my world. Because four nights ago, my three-year-old decided it was time to sleep through the night without a Pull-Up on. And three of those last four nights, he has succeeded without incident. If that isn't cause for celebration, I don't know what is.

But, our world isn't yet complete. We have our two-year-old daughter still in diapers. Yet, she is showing all the "signs of readiness" to begin potty training, so perhaps the day isn't so far off. It is a world that I find hard to imagine, actually. Not easy. Because for the past seven-and-a-half years, we have had at least one child in diapers at all times. Almost eight years, actually. And much of that time we've had more than one.

I'll admit that changing diapers has never been a huge chore. I guess you just accept it as part of the package of parenthood. Even the horrific moments, such as walking into your daughter's room to find she has smeared her own feces all over the wall, her crib, her sheets, and herself. Such moments are like an initiation. One of those, "you just wait" events that you are warned about by parents with a bit more experience under the belt, and one of those events that you swear you will manage to avoid in your role as a perfect parent.

Perfection evades the best of us...but still, I can't help but wonder what life would really be like without having to deal with diapers and Pull-Ups. Here are a few possibilities:

1. The amount of money we'll save will mean we can, perhaps, actually pay off our credits cards.
2. The time shaved off our day will allow each of us to be more productive, resulting in leaps and bounds increases in output. In short, more writing time for me! (Or not.)
3. We will single-handedly reduce the amount of waste in our landfills, and will be awarded Nobel Peace Prizes as a result.
4. Fewer trips to the garbage cans behind our house.
5. Fewer raccoons/skunks/cats/dogs/or whatever animal is always getting into the garbage cans behind our house.
6. Life filled with peace and tranquility where my wife and I dance with giddiness each and every time our daughter goes to use the potty chair, thereby reducing stress and increasing the endorphines that make us feel happier.

Of course, I'll be happy if only number four and/or five are true.

Story of the Month

I decided to add a new feature to my website. I will post a new short story each month. Not just any short story, but a short story that I have written.

I've thought long and hard about this. Because what I should do is send some of these stories out seeking publication either in a print or on-line literary magazine. The logic is simple: In order to become published, one must first be published. Sometimes. So, why not garner a few publishing credits?

In principle, it is a great idea. And I have actually submitted a few short stories to places a couple times. But I was spending more time tracking down the ideal places to send the stories than I actually spent in writing the stories. And, given the rest of my obligations right now, I just didn't have that much time. So, my stories have sat, waiting for more attention. And there they have sat, not quite forgotten...but feeling rather lonely.

But if I publish my stories on my website, there is little chance they would be accepted for publication elsewhere. I might sacrifice a potential publishing credit. Or, I might save myself a lot of time because some of the stories might never be accepted anywhere.

In the end, I decided I'm fooling myself. While there are stories I still might eventually attempt to submit, there are plenty of stories. I'm in no shortage of ideas. So, why not post some of those stories rather than let them waste away on my hard drive?

So, as of today, I have put my first Story of the Month on my website: Half Moon Tree. Take a look. Let me know what you think. And its honesty I care about, not praise. My goal is to improve as a writer. So if there is something you don't like, say so! If there is something that touches your soul, say that, too! If you just don't even care...well, you can keep quiet. That might hurt my feelings, sending me into a deep, dark depression that could last for weeks or months where I get nothing done whatsoever, including updating this blog. Wait a minute...now you are all going to tell me you don't even care, aren't you?

In the end will posting my stories be a smart idea? Who knows? But, I'll give it a try and take it from there. I hope you enjoy the stories.

I Like Spam

How much Spam can you handle? My inbox is filled with spam daily, despite the spam filters that are in place, advertising everything from the best prices in Viagra to the best prices on Rolex watches to...well...that's about it. Mostly spam about that.

But I'm talking about Spam. Capital S. You know, that stuff in a can that no one really knows for sure what it is?

Well, I'm coming forward to tell you today that I like that stuff. Sure, the thought of it is disgusting, especially that gelatinous coating that encases the, uh, meat. What is that? Well, it isn't supposed to matter. You aren't supposed to think about it. Just slice off some, fry it up, stick it on a sandwich with lettuce and mayonaise, and you have yourself one tasty meal.

I've heard rumors...and they are probably just urban legends...that the stuff was invented for soldiers in the war, so that they could eat meat anytime, anywhere. Just pop open a can and voila! I've also heard that it was infiltrated across the border from Soviet spies at one time in an attempt to poison the population of the United States with high-fat, heart-attack-inducing food.

But whatever the reason, I was feeling nostalgic for the stuff. Honestly, I haven't bought a can of Spam in ages. But I just might. I mean, after all, they still sell the stuff...so someone, somewhere is buying it. Which means it is edible. Unless...

What if all the Spam in the world is like fruitcake? No one eats it. But it never goes bad, so they just keep it on the shelves in hopes that one day someone will buy it and eat it. Rather than throw it out, filling up the nation's landfills, they just keep it spread out among the grocery stores in hopes that someone, somewhere will buy a can and fry some up.

Well...uh...my stomach isn't feeling so good at the moment. I think I'd better stop talking about Spam now. I'm imagining that smell. You know, when you first open a can? Like the smell of dog food?

What was I thinking? I don't like Spam. There. I'm glad I got that off my chest.

Why I Don't (Usually) Blog About Diabetes

It amazes me, really, just how many blogs on the Diabetes OC are able to stick to the topic of diabetes so much. Is diabetes really that consuming that there is that much to write about? Because here, I have an occasional diabetes-related blog entry...and even that is stretching things.

So, the questions becomes...do you "obsess" about diabetes in your daily lives that much as well? Or do you just save it all for your blogs? I'm not saying there is anything wrong with that, or anything...but honestly, the idea is rather foreign.

I suppose it is because 71% of my lifetime, I've lived with diabetes. Life before the disease barely registers in my memory. It is just who I am. Who I've always been, for as long as I can remember. So, why would I just blog about it so much?

In the same year that I was diagnosed with diabetes, I got my first pair of glasses. What an amazing new world that was, for the first time in my life able to actually see that trees were not a huge blob of green, but that the blobs were made up of individual leaves. I could actually read the signs hundreds of feet away. Overnight, the world changed.

But today, I certainly don't find the need to blog about my near-sightedness. Glasses are a part of my life, but nothing especially extraordinary. And, I suppose, I feel the same about diabetes.

I do find, however, that in the company of other diabetics, the subject seems to monopolize the conversation. It is an opportunity to share experiences, differences, and learn. I guess that is what the Diabetes OC is.

Back when I was in, I believe, junior high, maybe five years post-diagnosis, I remember watching the Ironman Triathalon. But, honestly, I didn't care one bit about triathalons. I just wasn't that into sports. (I'm still not.) So, why the fascination? Because that particular year there was someone inspirational participating. A Type 1 diabetic. I don't even remember his name. But I remember cheering him on, and how they showed him eating fudge along the way to keep his BGLs up. It was a chance to see that diabetes would not interfere with the rest of my life. That I could really accomplish anything I wanted, and that my dreams would never die because of my disease.

And they haven't. I am who I am, and I've accomplished what I've accomplished all the while trying to deal with my diabetes. It is no big deal to me. There are many far more difficult trials I've faced in life. Many I have still yet to face, I'm sure. So, for the time being, I don't really obsess about diabetes. I don't really put much thought into at all. At least, not any more than I have to.

That is why, I suppose, you'll only find the occasional blog entry about diabetes here.

Would You Care For Some Cherry Filling?

Last night I attended my brother-in-law's wedding. A rather small shin-dig (I've never used that word in my life!). But I didn't just attend, I also sang. Which, of course, the guests found horribly annoying because they were trying to hear the exchange of vows. But what can you do when the lyrics to a song just pop into your head?

Okay, okay...so I didn't really do that. I did sing, however, as requested. Anyhow, afterwards, at the reception, the newlyweds were cutting the cake. This, of course, reminded me of an incident at my own wedding, over ten years ago.

So come with me, now, on a journey through memory lane. Unlike my brother-in-law's wedding, our wedding was not a small shin-dig. It was a rather large shin-dig, with three-hundred-plus guests, close to fifty minutes along, with a grand total of eight songs. I've joked that we should have printed programs: The Wedding - A Musical Of Love's Beginning.

Aside from an episode early in the day where I had panicked because I had misplaced Marsha's wedding ring, everything went rather smoothly. Until the reception.

Neither of us were all that nervous for the wedding...but the idea of walking into a room full of three-hundred-people who want nothing more than to see the two of you kiss over and over on demand, we were nervous. We entered, and were immediately ushered in to cut the cake. (We did not have a sit-down dinner, but rather, a serve yourself buffet of sorts.) Of course, there doesn't seem to be a set of pictures more pointless than those cutting the cake, but there we were, fulfilling our obligation to marital society.

Anyhow, we cut the cake and then proceeded to feed each other our first slice of cake as a married couple. How terribly romantic. Except that as I took my bite, my nose started to bleed. All over my piece of cake.

Marsha didn't notice this, and started realizing that there as cherry filling in this cake. But there isn't supposed to be cherry filling! Scared I'm going to bleed all over the rest of the cake, I find the nearest napkin and run off, leaving my bride behind fuming that the bakery messed up our cake, because cherry filling was clearly not what she ordered.

Watching our wedding video, the first act together as a married couple is shown as Marsha getting angry, and myself running out of the room. Fortunately, that isn't how the remainder of our marriage has been.

Still, be careful the next time you are at a wedding reception. That cherry filling just might be..well, something else entirely!

The Trouble With Brownies

We have a brownie problem in our home. You see, we all love them. Well, our three-year-old isn't allowed to eat them due to food allergies, but the other five of us can.

So, when I baked a particularly delicious 13x9 pan of chocolate brownies with chocolate frosting on top, we had a bit of a brownie feud. Personally, I made out on the short end of this little battle for brownie territory, as I only had two rather small brownies. The sacrifices one must make as a father.

Anyhow, as of yesterday night there was one brownie left. And, much to the chagrine of my oldest son, we had allocated this brownie to my second-born. The reason was quite clear: He had been sick for a few days, and hadn't really successfully eaten any of the brownies. Yet, this same six-year-old happens to be the biggest sweets-a-holic I've ever seen. He is the one whose daily life isn't complete without obsessing about if and when dessert will be.

My eldest didn't see this as a fair deal. The reason? Well, while he had a brownie yesterday, his brother was given a strawberry shake from Mickey D's because it was pretty much the only thing that he would eat or drink given the state of his stomach ills. So, why, then, does the last brownie go to him? Isn't a shake bigger than a brownie?

No. The brownie is Jesse's. And the sulking began. But, the brownie remained, untouched, in the pan as of this morning, safe and sound behind the protection of not only a gate, but also a plastic snap-on lid.

Fast forward now. At some point, Josiah (my eldest son) opened the gate to the kitchen and left it open. That's the first problem. Later, Jesse opened the lid to the pan of brownies just to double-check it was still there. And it was.

So, my wife decided to split up our younger children, and left my daughter at the table with Color Wonder markers (you know, those magical markers that won't write on anything except the special paper) while she attended to the other one in the other room. Brilliant idea, really, because it assured she would not be able to make a mess.

But when my wife returned, she was a mess. A brown mess. Covered in chocolate. Chocolate that she obtained from the open pan of brownies left in the ungated kitchen. And the brownie? Gone. Down the hatch.

And, of course, the most horrifying thing about this whole even is not the mess my daughter made. It was having to inform poor Jesse that his brownie was no more. According to my wife, he took it rather well. But I still feel sorry for him, because eating his dessert is just about the worst thing you could ever do to him.

Then there is Josiah. Of course, he didn't get the brownie either. But he had a smugness to him...as though he felt justice had been served. Because it meant that Jesse would not get both a brownie and strawberry shake after all.

Brownies are trouble, I tell you. But, it won't stop me from making them again. After all, we all love them too much!

Jumping Into the War

I have strived to keep this blog relatively controversy free. Mostly because I tend to like to debate controversial topics ad nauseum, and it is great practice in self-control to have a blog where I can say anything I want...and then don't.

But this is a topic I can remain silent on no more. The war. No, not the war in Iraq. I'm talking about the war that is about to begin regarding HD DVD and Blu-Ray DVD. Are you with me? No? Well, the short of it, for those not in the know, is this: There are two new competing DVD technologies coming out this year that will provide greater detail in DVD viewing, especially considering that we are about to enter the mandatory era of HDTV, if you aren't there already. (We aren't, by the way...still too expensive for my tastes.)

Anyhow, competition is supposedly a great thing for consumers, because it helps drive the technology and leads to leaps and bounds improvements in price drops. But in this case, I can't help but see this competition as being nothing more than a way to further expand the amount of shelf space for DVDs in Wal-Marts and Best Buys across the country. Not to mention longer lines at the Customer Service desk.

You don't see the connection? Well, luckily for you, I'm going to tell you. I know, I know...I can see the relief across your pained expression already.

First of all, consider this: For some time, store shelves were packed with movies both in VHS and DVD formats. Then, of course, as VHS titles have gradually disappeared (and in some stores, are no longer sold at all), we started seeing the full screen and widescreen versions of DVDs sold separately. (Widescreen, by the way, is the way to go folks. Sure, you have that letterbox effect...but in the long run, it is a wiser choice. Trust me.)

Anyhow, recently, I started seeing a new section in the movie department: PSPs. Movies for the little Playstation Portable. Not a big deal. But consider the introduction of not one, but two new movie formats. You'll have your movies in DVD-full screen, DVD-widescreen, PSP, HD-DVD, and Blu-Ray DVDs. This two-fold increase in formats will mean a two-fold increase in store shelf space as well.

Which, of course, leads to the long lines at the Customer Service desk...because you and I know that, invariably, people will pick up the wrong version.

"Next! I can help the next person over here."

"Yes. I bought this copy of King Kong, but it won't play on my DVD player."

"Well, sir, did you buy the right format?"

"Huh?"

"What kind of DVD player do you have?"

"Uh...I think it is an Apex or something."

"No, sir. I mean, what format does it play?"

"Huh?"

And on it will go for each and every customer. Of course, this will lead to increased customer dissatisfaction, and we'll start seeing more and more people suffering health issues resulting from post-DVD-buying-induced depression. People won't want to shop anymore. It will ravage the economy, and we'll enter yet another recession. All because of the DVD wars.

There is an easy solution to all of this, of course. Since the companies developing the technology couldn't come to an agreement, I think it should be put to a vote. I mean, every other war is in some way political, why not this? Let the people decide. Along with voting for President, Senators, and Representatives, there would be a slot for "preferred DVD format". Whichever wins the majority of votes is what is sold to consumers.

Anyhow, folks. I know what you're thinking...this guy is really getting too controversial for my comfort zone. I'll probably lose many of you as readers of my blog now. I'm sure I have offended someone in this. But, it is one of the important issues of our time. How could I ignore it?

Okay, So I'm A Wimp

Yesterday, I said I wasn't going to tag anyone. For good reason. Have you ever taken the time to do the math on those kinds of pyramids? One person tags five people. Those five people have to tag five people, each, and so on. So, you have a rather exponentially growing number of people being tagged. Eventually, you'll cover the entire population of the earth.

The progression goes like this: 1, 5, 25, 125, 625, 3125, 15625, 78125, 390625, 1953125, 9765625, 48828125, 244140625, 1220703125, 6103515625

So, in just 15 iterations, you have covered the entire world population. That works out to over 30 billion random facts! So, really, I'm doing the people of this planet a favor by not "spreading the fun".

But, along comes Allison. Who actually has two blogs, not just one. Anyhow, she is whining about not being tagged, and how I'm a spoil sport for not playing along. So what do I do? Am I firm on my stance, choosing to stand my ground and refuse to tag her? Preserving the memories of the entire planet by helping to reduce the number of facts they are expected to remember?

Nope. Not me. Okay, so I'm a wimp. I admit it. I just give in. But, had you read yesterday's blog, you'll remember random fact number four. I was a major geek. And, as major geeks go, I certainly fit the part of being a wimp. The only athletics I was involved in was Marching Band...if you can call that athletics. (Hey, I do...but that's become I'm a geek. Or, I mean...I was a geek.)

So, Allison, consider yourself tagged. But that's it. No more. Only one person. None of this five people business. I mean it. I won't give in next time, I promise you. I've been working out, you see. Walking several times a week. I'm just out of shape right now because of the recent Christmas holiday.

Now then, back to my regularly scheduled blog.

Ready Or Not, Here I Come

Apparently, there is a game of tag going on in the Diabetes Online Community (known to many of you as the "OC"). And, to my surprise, I've been tagged. From what I gather, if you are tagged, you are supposed to share five random facts. I presume that facts are supposed to be about me, rather than something like: The Michigan state rock is the Petoski Stone.

What is odd is that I really have no idea how this game of tag started, who started it, nor what the official rules are. Frankly, I didn't even know I had been tagged until I checked out my site logs for this blog and noticed several people arriving to my blog via Megan's blog.

From the looks of things, I'm also suppose to tag five people. I will state right now and up front that I won't do that. You have quite a pyramid going if you have every individual tag five people. Also, I'm not entirely sure if those who you are supposed to tag are also supposed to be diabetics...or family of diabetics.

Still, the idea of sharing five random facts about myself is, I suppose, an intriguing topic for a blog, so I figured I could participate in that aspect at the very least. And I'll try hard to make these five facts things you don't already know about me. So, here goes.

1. I have incredibly dry skin. Always have. So dry, in fact, that my wife has said I feel a bit like sandpaper. In the winter weather, it is even worse. As a result, I've considered buying stock in all the companies that make body lotion.
2. At one time in my life, I wanted to learn to play the piano portion to Gershwin's Rhapsody In Blue, which happens to be my all-time favorite piano concerto. The problem was getting ahold of the music. My piano teacher had a solo version, which didn't need the orchestra, but it was beyond me because you then had to learn both the piano and orchestral parts. My band director said he would be willing to do it if I could learn the piano part...but he wouldn't buy the music (including the piano part) until I learned it. Rather a catch-22. Needless to say, I never learned to play it.
   
3. Broccoli is my favorite vegetable. But there was a time in my life when I wouldn't even look at the stuff. Prior to being diagnosed with diabetes, the selection of food that tasted good to me was practially nothing. Within six months of getting my diabetes under control, my taste for food branched out about a hundred-fold.
   
4. I was a major geek in my high school days. I choose the word geek over nerd, however, because in order to be a nerd, I would have had to look the part. Definitely a geek, though. I was involved in a ton of school activities, including the Writer's Club, and was finished with all the math classes my high school had to offer by the end of the eleventh grade. But then I went on to college...where I was in a sea of geeks, which meant I was no longer anything special. Academically, that is.
5. After ten years of marriage, I'm still madly in love with my wife. I know, this one isn't really a secret, but it is something that can never be expressed enough...so now is as good a time as any to say it.

There you have it. My five random facts. And in lieu of actually tagging five additional people, I'll just say, "Ready or not, here I come!"

Skeletons in the Closet

It is amazing to me just how persistent the Internet can be. I was an early adopter. While studying Computer Engineering at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor, I worked for the College of Engineering's Computer Aided Engineering Network (aka CAEN). And, roughly one year after the World-Wide Web was invented by NCSA, I was there developing web pages and doing web programming. My impression? The WWW was a wonderful educational tool, but it would never succeed commercially. Eh-hem. Well, I've been wrong once or twice.

Anyhow, it wasn't surprising that my first job out of college was working for a company that developed web sites. Specifically, I was the programmer. Anyhow, during that era (circa 1996), you may or may not recall a push for a certain Communications Decency Act. There was much debate about this, and I was one in favor of it. At that time, I wrote up an argument in support of the CDA and published it to my personal website. This article was linked to by many other CDA supporters, and eventually the entire article was copied to another website.

The website that I originally used to publish this has long since vanished, but my article has not. This, despite the fact that the CDA was eventually defeated, and the article is rather moot now.

You see, I often will do a Google search on my name to see what comes up. Much of it isn't suprising. Several links related to the diabetes software I sell on Palmgear and Handango, a few other software-related pages, plus several concerning this blog. Many of the links don't have a thing to do with me...but with people who happen to share my name. There is also a piece of software that I offered as Freeware back in my Amiga programming days.

I guess the point is that if there are any skeletons in the closet of your Internet presence, they will follow you for who knows how long. It is kind of scary, in a way. And while I, at this point, have nothing posted that I regret at this point (at least that I can find!), it does cause one to wonder. I mean, here I am blogging about my life, sharing little gems of wisdom. Ten years from now, will I look back at this and regret any of it?

So, a word of caution: Be careful what you say on the Internet...because it might live on to haunt you in years to come!

Experiencing Withdrawal

I'm experiencing withdrawal. You see, I'm part of an online community of writers...the best in the world, in my fair opinion...called Backspace. Terrific place, and everything I know about the business of publishing I learned there. If you are a writer, you should check it out by the way. However, for the past two weeks, Backspace...well, at least, the forums of Backspace...have been off line. This is because they are doing technical improvements installing new forum software. But for a Backspace addict such as myself, I'm starting to act pretty weird without my fix.

For example...during the time away from this writer's board, I actually finished writing my book. Woo-hoo! But it is a highly unusual event, finishing a book, and I have to wonder if it is because of my cold-turkey withdrawal. Oh, perhaps it is just coincidence. But perhaps not.

Take, for instance, the fact that I actually have my query letters written and ready to send out. I mean, I'm never so organized. See what I mean?

Frankly, I'm nervous what could happen next. Contract an agent? Make a sale to a publisher? I'm living a dangerous existance at the moment, off Backspace, and it's making me nervous.

And if this happening to me, I have to wonder what is happening to my other Backspace friends. Are they surviving? The long quiet is disconcerting, and I can hope it will end soon.

In other news, I suppose it is fashionable to mention it is a whole new year now. 2006. The year of the Winter Olympics. The year of the Super Bowl (just don't ask me which Super Bowl...but I think is Super Bowl XL, which, if I remember my Roman numerology, is 40). Also, it is the year I plan to have my book published...or at least accepted for publication. We'll see how that goes, because of course, you'll be some of the first to know. And, as readers of this blog, you are under contractual obligation to not only buy my book when it eventually hits the shelves, you must also actively push the book on your friends, family, and complete strangers you happen upon. Don't believe me? Scroll down and read the fine print*. See?

Anyhow, welcome to the new year.

By the way, I did take my kids to Grace Centers of Hope on Thursday, which I mentioned in my last blog. We worked the "G" room, which means we unboxed and organized a bunch of donated toiletries and other various items onto the shelves. (Did you ever know there were like a hundred brands of toothpaste in the world?) Anyhow, my boys had a blast, though they were constantly side-tracked by the aforementioned toothpaste, insisting they spend the couple hours we had restacking the toothpaste boxes so that they could save about six inches of shelf space. However, my six-year-old came away not believing me when I told them that the people who lived there didn't have anything of their own because they were homeless. I mean, after all, we just unboxed literally tons of shampoo, soap, conditioner, notebook paper, brushes, and other miscellaneous items in quantities beyond their imagination. Clearly, they must have more money than we do!

Happy New Year.

* You, by having read the words of this blog entry, not including this fine print, implicitly agree to actively push Ryan Bruner's as-yet-unpublished book on friends, family, and complete strangers.

From Out Of The Silence

Sorry to all those of you who kept checking in to read something new and enlightening on my blog for the past several days. It's amazing how, when you are at home all day, it is difficult to find time to blog.

But that's not to say I haven't been writing. In fact, I'm on target to finish editing my first-ever novel by January first (for those of you who weren't aware I was writing one). Which means, I'll be starting the process of querying agents come January. Mindburst looks to be coming in around 51,000 words, which is within the range typical of a young-adult book. This is my fourth draft. I wish I could say final draft, but I know too much about the business to make such a claim. The final draft won't be until it is send to the printer and ready to hit the bookstore shelves.

It is rather odd to think I'm almost done, though. At least with this stage. I've been struggling to figure out what to do next. I could start on the sequel (as I'm planning this to be a four-book series at the moment), or I could start on one of my other totally unrelated ideas. Maybe I could start polishing up some of my short stories and send those out. Or maybe start working on my website. Who knows? But one thing for sure...I promise not to abandom my faithful blog-readers. Or, eh-hem, reader. (I can always count on my wife to read what I write. I think.)

Anyhow, I'm coming out of the silence of my holiday break to keep you all updated. I'll try to blog about something more intriguing next time in a few days. On Thursday, for example, I'm taking my two oldest boys to help work at a homeless shelter, so I might have a story or two to tell about that. We'll see what happens.

Adios!

Celebrate!

We are three days away from the biggest holiday event of the year: Opening Christmas gifts.

In our family, however, it was really turning into "what Christmas is all about", which we weren't happy with. There is a reason we celebrate, and it isn't to sing songs about the most wonderful time of the year, nor a time of "family", nor a time for presents, although those all become a part of the season. No, we celebrate because of a little baby who was born to offer salvation to the world.

So, my wife and I decided to mix things up a bit a few years ago, and move the gift-exchange thing to Thanksgiving day. I blogged about that already in November. Christmas morning, for us, is not filled with the expectation of gifts. It is about Jesus' birthday. Although, this year, we have the added bonus of having Christmas Day fall on Sunday, meaning we can celebrate the holiday at church. Later, we'll throw a birthday party.

Some folks might find the shift of gift-giving a bit odd. And, I suppose it is. But we don't do the Santa thing, so that's no big deal. Instead, we have a family tradition on Christmas Eve night which my wife and I started before we even had kids. We have our stockings. But it is more than just a few gifts. It is a whole game.

Prior to Christmas Eve night, my wife and I set a price limit. Originally it was $10, and then we upped that to $15 (due to inflation). We then go to separate stores and buy as many meaningful gifts without going over that price. It is quite a challenge, but well worth it. For example, my wife will often buy me Chapstick because of my incessantly dry lips. I, one year, bought my wife this de-icer for the windshield that you spray on because she is too short to reach. It is fun, especially when you do something like wrap up six white sox individually in order to have more to open.

Perhaps you haven't noticed, but I'm quite family-oriented. And as such, having unique activities and traditions that enrich the family are important to me. Spending a fortune on each of our kids may make the retailers happy, and it may even, for a short while, make my kids happy. But I'm not in it for their short-term happiness. We're a family for the long haul. So, well...we just don't spend that kind of money. We can't spend that kind of money. At least not without heaping more debt upon our heads. So, we found creative ways to make memories to last a lifetime without having to buy that iPod, or whatever.

In case I don't get a chance to write again before the 25th, let me wish you all a very Merry Christmas. May the Lord bless you.

Miracles Do Happen

The human body never ceases to amaze me. Or, in this case, completely flabberghast me. In a follow up from my blog entry from earlier, I am back from my appointment with my endo.

I come to you bearing both good news and bad news (and interesting news plus another tidbit).

First, the good news. By some miracle, my A1c was not only lower than I expected, it was lower than it has ever been. Yes, folks, I managed a 6.4! Which is perplexing, to say the least, since I've been having so many highs. And not just highs...but really high highs. (Maybe they messed up my readings with someone else.)

Second, the bad news. My cholesterol is elevated. Specifically, both my HDL and LDL. That's good for my HDL, but bad for the LDL. I'm not entirely surprised by this, however. In the past year, I've kind of given in to the temptation of eating high-cholesterol foods far more often than ever. My doctor wants to put me on a statin, which I'll get to in a minute...but I told him let's hold off. I'm going to spend the next three months revamping my diet back to the healthy way I used to eat and see if I can bring it down that way.

Third, the interesting news. As I mentioned, my doctor wanted me to go on a statin. Not because my LDL is horribly high. But he informed me that recent research has shown that the A1c has not been proven to be an indicator of heart disease in Type 1 diabetics. In fact, according to him, there isn't much proof of correlation at all. Instead, he said that having an LDL above 100 (which is considered otherwise somewhat normal) indicates a huge increase in the probabiliy of heart disease for type 1s. Apparently, they are recommending that every Type 1 diabetic with LDL at 100 or higher go on a cholesterol-lowering statin.

Finally, a tidbit. My pump (the Minimed Paradigm 511) is now 3 1/2 years old. Often, people replace their pump at the four year mark. I asked my doctor about this, and he told me I might just consider holding off attempting to upgrade if my pump hasn't had problems. The reason is, apparently the trials on the Minimed combined Continuous Glucose Monitoring System and Insulin Pump are nearing completion. He said the estimates are about twelve months or so, and it will be available, so it might be best to hold off. I had assumed a few more years...but I guess it is closer than I realized. The new CGMS he said is a significantly smaller system than what Minimed sells today as a standalone unit, but will communicate wirelessly to the pump.

There you have it folks. And now, I must head off to bed.

Bless Their Little Hearts

I don't know about your endo, but my doctor has one of those A1c machines right in the office. So, by the end of the visit, you know the good...or bad...news. Frankly, the A1c result is all I really care about in the entire visit. Sure, he schedules blood work for me, makes sure I can still feel my toes and all...but none that really matters to me as much as that A1c number. Place your bets, place your bets. Will I make it below that magic number seven this time? Find out after a word from our sponsors (err, doctors).

Today is that day for me. My three-month check up. Time to find out if I've been naughty or nice. And, I'm afraid, I'm expecting more naughty than nice. Something has happened in the past several months, and I think it is time for an overhaul on my basal rates. I've been putting off the work of doing that, however, until after this A1c. My highs have been higher, and my lows lower lately.

I'm guessing a 7.3 this time around. We'll see if I'm right. But if I am, I'll hang my head in shame. I haven't been above a 7.1 in years.

So, anyhow, you know the routine (or perhaps you don't, if you're not diabetic). Offer up that blood sample and wait. And wait. And wait some more. When the doctor comes into the room, you try to read some indication from his body language where you stand. But doctors are master poker players, I think. No hint of what cards are in his hand.

And actually, what I hate worse than waiting for the number is what advice comes after the number is revealed...especially when the number is higher than before. Because, as a diabetic with twenty-three years under my belt, I pretty much manage everything myself. My doctor will try to send in the interns, looking through my BGLs they printed out from my meter to figure how what the problem is that led to the elevated A1c. Perhaps if I raise my basal here, and cut it back here. I smile and nod, whole-heartily agreeing. Then, I leave the office and ignore it all.

That's probably not very good to admit, but it's true. Because, frankly, their advice is never really too helpful. They aren't there to see what I ate that caused those morning highs, for example. The meter doesn't show that. The trick isn't to add more insulin...the trick might just be to eliminate that donut, or bolus more accurately. But bless their little hearts for wanting to sound so involved. And, since I'm paying them big money for their advice, there is no point in shattering their egos by telling them I'm about to ignore everything they are telling me.

My A1c. Today. Then, it is time to buckle down and do the hard work of re-calculating everything. It is tedious. Probably takes a good month of hard work and skipping various meals to get the basals correct. But it will be worth it in the end, because then I can go back three months from now expecting a 6.8 instead of a 7.3 (or 7.5 or 7.8).

Maybe Santa will bring me a lower A1c than I expected, but I have my doubts. So, good luck to you all on your A1cs, whenever they are due.

Losing My Man Card

I'd like to think that what I'm about to tell you would garner not only your respect, but also demonstrate my security in my masculinity. Yet, I fear that for some of you...the men in particular...you'll just laugh and write me off as something not very politically correct to say in a public forum such as this. But, here goes...

One of my all time favorite movies (or set of movies, I suppose) is Anne of Green Gables and its sequel, Anne of Avonlea. Okay, okay. I'll wait for the laughter to die down.

*Foot tapping*

*More foot tapping*

Now then, I realize that this is not on the top of many men's list of films. You'd expect the likes of X-Men or Spiderman or even Star Wars. And while I do like those movies, there is just something about the Anne-girl that makes me happy.

My boys are already hooked on action. The Incredibles, Star Wars, Monster's Inc. If there is a chase scene, they'll like it. This, despite the fact that we really are very careful about what we let them watch.

Anyhow, a couple of days ago, I decided it was high-time I broadened their horizons. There is so much more to learn than the latest light-saber techniques. Right? So, I put in Anne of Green Gables. I think my six-year-old was a bit hesitant. I mean, who wants to watch a movie about a girl, right? But I insisted, and so we all sat down.

Two hours later (and only halfway through the first movie), they were totally enthralled. I stopped the movie, saying it was time for bed, but they didn't want to stop. They wanted to know what would happen next! I mean, Anne's relationship with Diana's mother was finally restored after saving Diana's little sister's life! How can you stop the movie now?

So, last night, we picked things up and finished out the first movie. After it was over, my eldest said, "So now what happens?"

Time to buy the second movie. (For the record, we used to own it, but we then bought the first on DVD, fully intending to buy the second shortly thereafter. So, we gave our VHS copies to a friend, but have yet to buy the second.)

It is refreshing to know that my children can appreciate quality family movies, where tension is defined by more than just whether or not Mr. Incredible will escape the clutches of the Omnidroid with his life.

And while I'm sure someone will insist I lose my "man card" over all this, I will tell you that wild horses couldn't drag it from my hands. Because there is much to learn from Anne (with an e).

I'm thankful for such family movies...movies that go behind entertainment, and truly attempt to teach children something meaningful...something important. Because no matter how many times I analyze the significance of a piece of dialog spoken by Anakin Skywalker, in the end it is rather pointless. Whether Gilbert Blythe and Anne Shirley every reconcile their differences...now that is important stuff. Not only if they do, but how...and why.

The Entry I Had to Write

My wife has this really good friend. She's really quite needy, always asking for a "blanket of love", not only from her friendship with my wife...but also with me.

Case in point, she has been hounding me day in and day out about just when I'm going to blog about her. Well, not so much day in and day out as in a couple comments made to me on two separate days in passing. But still, it's not so much about how much she's asked me, and more about the way she asks.

So, I thought the time has come that I acknowledge her. Yes, world of bloggers, I personally know Tasha Tywlak. No, not "Tasha" that rhymes with "Sascha", but "Tasha" that rhymes with "Tay-shuh". (Sorry...but I never realized that there really aren't any real words that rhyme with her name. Well, "fascia"...but some people pronounce that particular word so that it sounds like "fashion" withiout the n, and well, I don't think she'd forgive me for that.) Her last name? Well, the "w" is silent. Who knows why? It just is. Sounds like "Tie-lack".

Yes. Being famous is hard. I mean, all my fans (all twenty of them) wish I would blog about them. And, hopefully, now that I mentioned Tasha here means that, by association, she too will become famous and perhaps even become that super model she's always dreamed of becoming. Good luck on that Tasha. I'm sure an agent will be calling you soon.

Ahhh. I already feel cleansed in doing this. This was, you know, the "entry I had to write", but just never felt "led". She's asked me why once, and I told her that I just write what comes to mind on any given day. Today is your day, my dear Tasha. Do you feel the blanket of love now?

In the Land of Narnia

Last night, I had the privilege of going to see The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe with my wife and two oldest boys. My wife had previewed the trailer to my boys several days ago, and they were beyond excited. And, my six-year-old was certain to declare to us hourly how he won't be scared. (He seems to believe that we forbid them to see movies that we might consider "too scary" for his age...which, come to think of it, is true.)

I will say, I was quite impressed. The movie far exceeded my expectations. I had seen made-for-television productions before that were laughable. But this was simply gorgeous, and very true to the intent of the books...although, there were some necessary liberties taken, as is the case with all book-to-movie translations.

The casting was perfect, cinematography beautiful, and the special effects impressive. As I had read in several reviews, the director did a great job of leaving intact the symbolism that abounds in the books, yet at the same time leaving that same symbolism as subtle as found in the books.

If this movie had a flaw, it was in attempting to be a bit too much like the recent Lord of the Rings epic. The movie was big in that same epic sense. The world of Narnia was created as more than just a few sets on a soundstage. That is good, actually. But there were times I couldn't help but think they were trying to carbon-copy the feel of the Tolkien-based films. The battle scene, in particular. I wouldn't be surprised if they used the same special-effects house that Peter Jackson used. Yet, if you can separate yourself from that aspect, it was a terrific movie in every regard.

I will admit up front that I was surprised at the intensity of a few of the scenes. Despite being rated PG, I felt this movie bordered into the PG-13 rating in a few places. The battle scene, for example. I was unsure how my six-year-old might react to this, although after the fact, he claimed he wasn't scared one little bit. I think he is just ensuring we won't leave him out on any potential future movie extravaganzas. I think he was scared...just a little. I know I was.

It had been years since I read the books, so my lack of recent familiarity with the original C. S. Lewis telling probably made me able to enjoy the movies even more. There were a few key moments of suspense that I think I wouldn't have felt tension in had I actually remembered what happened before it happened.

This is a movie I highly recommend to everyone, though if your child is under seven, I would be a bit careful and gauge your own child's ability for a few intense scenes with violence. There was a girl, maybe eight or nine, sitting behind us who, during the battle scene, said out loud, "Whoa...that was violent!" So this isn't just the opinion of an overly-protective father.

It's Not Easy Being Green

Have you ever considered why in the world we (as in all of humanity) feel the need to ponder and place utmost importance on the answers to subjective questions such as, "What's your favorite color?"

It seems a silly question...although, I'll admit I've put a great amount of effort in formulating my answer. Because just what does it matter? Is one color inherantly better than another? And so what if it is? Or what if the world existed without that color? Life would likely go on...and I would simply have a different answer to that question.

Yet, when deciding the compatibility of a future mate, it seems to be one of the first questions asked. Because clearly, if my spouse doesn't agree that green (or blue or red or whatever) is her favorite color at all, then all bets are off in our relationship. We might as well start drawing up the divorce papers now.

Interestingly, my answer to that question has changed over time, which makes the question even more perplexing. As a child, my answer was always blue. Why? Because I was a boy. And blue is a boy's color. Girls pick pink, and boys pick blue. The thought of picking any other color would be a blow to my masculinity (as much as it was at the age of six).

As I aged, growing in maturity and wisdom by age ten, I realized that I didn't want blue to be my favorite color. I mean, I didn't want to just be a lemming (not that I knew what a lemming was at the time) and pick blue because it was the in-thing. No. I wanted to be different. Set my own pace in life. So, I changed my favorite color. To red. Red was still masculine...particularly the darker variety. Plus, every game in existance had red game pieces, right? So, red it was!

But then I waxed philosophical. (I've never used that phrase in my life, but I've always wanted to.) I became an adult. There had to be more thought and meaning behind my answer than just wanting to have a game-piece that matched my favorite color. More than just being my own person. I decided to ponder what color in the world would I most miss if suddenly it were taken away? Because that, my friends, would define my favorite color.

So, I sat and stared at the world. The answer was clear. Green. Definitely green. Imagine the world without the green grass on my lawn, the green leaves of the forests, the green mold in my bathtub. Yes. Without green, the world would be a boring place indeed. Less (and this is for my friends at Backspace) verdant.

Today, if anyone asks me what's my favorite color, my answer is green. But, frankly, what does it matter? I suppose the really important questions of life today...the questions that define each of us a person with unique thoughts and feelings...are the questions that are most likely to cause tension. Are you liberal or conservative? What's your favorite religion? Do you like blondes or brunettes or red heads? Pepsi or Coca-Cola?

Yes, asking one's favorite color is safe, and avoids all the controversy of life. Go ahead and ask, then, and keep the peace.

Me? I'm thankful for green, and red, and blue, and yellow, and every other color of the rainbow. What a beautiful world God has created for us.

The Future Of Diabetes

Twenty-three years ago, the cure to diabetes was just around the corner. My mother subscribed to Diabetes Forecast so that we could keep tabs on developments in treatment and research. I remember feeling excited each time I read about some new step closer to that cure.

Today, I'm a bit more realistic about things. Perhaps even cynical. But I honestly do not believe there will be a cure to diabetes in my lifetime. And, since I plan to live to the ripe old age of at least eighty, we're talking close to fifty years. Maybe I'll be proven wrong. We'll see.

In twenty-three years, however, there have been amazing advancements in the treatment of diabetes, and I only see that continuing...eventually the point where the need for a "cure" won't be so significant. And, I think we'll soon see the vaccination against Type 1 diabetes, which will mean future generations will never have to face the disease.

So, what's in store for us? And what do I see as obstacles?

First is the next generation of blood glucose monitoring. We have already seen a couple of methods for continuously monitoring BGLs. I think this technology will continue to advance to the point where we have a continuous and real-time update on our BGLs. This will, of course, lead to interactions with insulin pumps that auto-regulate your BGLs. This is not far-fetched, as there are a few companies already developing this and I believe at least one already undergoing FDA trials.

But I don't see this technology as perfect. I don't think we'll just be able to eat without counting carbs, and have the closed-loop system (as they call it) function without interaction. The trouble is insulin technology, and inherant delays in BG monitoring. Insulins, currently, take ten to fifteen minutes before getting into the bloodstream enough to do anything. Add in the delay that it takes for the food you eat to enter your system, and you will end up with a lag in insulin delivery. Furthermore, you have a delay in the actual BGL compared to what is monitored in a continuous fashion.

Still, even if we still need to bolus for food, a closed-loop system will be able to immediately compensate for error plus otherwise unknown causes in highs and lows...even, potentially, preventing them altogether.

There is, of course, the possibility of avoiding these delays by having an implantable system. Yet, I'd be leery of such a solution, with a greater risk of infection, not to mention the ongoing problem of the body "clogging up" the delivery and sensors for monitoring. Despite the pain and annoyance in having to insert a new infusion set every few days, I think it is a safer solution all around.

Second, as I already mentioned, there is the vaccination, which is already undergoing trials (although, I don't recall if they are animal trials or human trials at this point). I know those with diabetes (or parents of those with diabetes) are wishing for a cure...I honestly think the vaccination is a far better solution. Prevent anyone else from developing diabetes, and in a couple generations, the need for a cure is rather moot. With improving treatments, I'd personally rather see research monies put towards preventing diabetes and treating diabetes.

But, third, there is the future of a cure. As I said...not something I expect in my lifetime, but certainly a possibility. Of course, the most promising at this point is the use of adult stem cells. And I do qualify stem cells with "adult" because I don't see embryonic stem cells as a viable source of a cure. Not just due to the ethical/moral implications. But for scientific reasons. To date, embryonic stell cells have proven to be pretty much worthless in the treatment of anything. There is a lot of "hope" in them, but thus far, nothing more than that.

Adult stem cells, however, have been successfully used in a variety of treatments of various ailments, and there has been success even in the area of diabetes. Money needs to be directed there rather than the unproven "technology" of embryonic stem cells because we already know it has potential and can work.

And there is another reason: Rejection. There is a huge issue with rejection when you deal with any source of tissue that are not from the person they came from. Much as with organ transplants, stem cells taken from another source other than the person to be cured will require anti-rejection medications, which have health risks of their own. But adult stem cells don't face this hurdle. Stem cells can be taken from a person's own body, cultured into new beta cells, and used by the body without fear of rejection.

But if we're so close to that, where is the problem? Well, the fact is, we still have the problem of what caused the killing of the beta cells to begin with. They body of the diabetic killed off his or her own beta cells already. Even if the new cells are implanted, there is a great risk that the body will react to the new cells the same way they reacted to the original beta cells. The question becomes, can any form of beta cell implantation work successfully for those who are already diabetic? We've already seen cases of transplants where this has been an issue. For the first year or so, the body appears to produce insulin again...but that soon fails. That might be due to rejection, but it might be due to the body's autoimmune response.

We have a long way to go. But there is a future for diabetics. I've lived twenty-three years with the disease, and have a wonderfully prosperous life. I expect to continue living a prosperous life with the disease for another fifty. And I look forward to what the future holds.

Today, I'm thankful for the treatments available. For insulin pumps, analog insulins, BG meters that are almost instantaneous. I'm thankful for the medical companies that develop this. A grand example of capitalism at work. Competition among medical companies has benefited the lives...and will continue to benefit the lives...of diabetics everywhere.

Oh, What Fun It Is To Ride

A few days ago, I shared the wonderful insight I gained by my youngest son's proclamation that the snow was melting. Well, it turns out everything I learned was completely wrong. Because, you see, today for an hour we decided to enjoy the six inches of snow we now have. I took the kids sledding.

But, before you go all gushy on my and say, "Aw, how cute!", let me break that hour up for you:

10:50-11:15 (25 minutes)
Look for and put on all snow suits, mittens, and boots.

11:15-11:17 (2 minutes)
Escort my daughter down the steps.

11:17-11:19 (2 minutes)
Convince my daughter that it was okay to sit down on the sled

11:19-11:22 (3 minutes)
Drag the sled with my daughter up the hill.

11:22-11:22 (Less than one minute)
My daughter slides down hill

11:22-11:25 (3 minutes)
Convince my daughter that she has to get off the sled so that I can go back up the hill.

11:25-11:27 (2 minutes)
Walk up the hill while my daughter is in tear. My youngest son joins us at the top.

11:27-11:28 (1 minute)
Get them both arranged and seated together on the sled, because my daughter refuses to allow anyone on the sled unless she is on it as well.

11:28-11:28 (Less than one minute)
Slide down hill.

11:28-11:35 (Seven minutes)
Repeat above steps, but include extra minute to put their mittens back because they were crying that their hands were cold.

11:35-11:50 (Fifteen minutes)
My daughter cried the rest of the time, refusing to walk in the snow. I would ask her if she wanted to go inside. "No!" I'd ask her if she wanted to play in the snow. "No!"

So, at this point, I declared it was lunch time and headed inside.

Am I a bad father if, during this whole expedition, I just laughed at my daughter? Because I thought the whole image of her insisting she stay outside in the very cold that is making her miserable rather hillarious.

So, for what took an hour, there was a grand total of about 1 minute of enjoyment. Oh what fun it is to ride on a sled down our tiny hill. Because after we were all cozy and warm inside again, I asked them if they wanted to go outside again. The answer? A resounding, "I wanna outside!"

I'm sure there must be some secret message God is teaching me through all this. But whatever it is, I'm too busy being amused to think about it. Mostly, I just think my kids are mentally insane!

And just what am I thankful for today? I'm thankful that children are cute, even in the most trying of times. It is what gets parents through yet another day without killing our children, and sometimes, like today, even laugh about it all!

The Meaning of the Curse

You know about the curse, don't you? No...not some horror movie. And not a woman's time of the month. I'm talking about the curse thrust upon the world because Adam and Eve decided to eat a piece of forbidden fruit.

If you aren't familiar with it, the gist of it is this:

"I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing; with pain you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you."

Of course, it goes on to curse the men as well. But I wanted to stop here. For thousands of years, theologians have debated the meaning of this. And, while I have had my own theories throughout the years, I finally have come to an astounding conclusion. I think that this is a fill-in-the-blank. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't a little line drawn immediately after the word "husband"...but the Bible translators didn't know what that meant, so left it out.

But before I reveal the meaning of the curse to you, let me back up.

My wife is hot. And in this case, I'm referring to her body temperature. We never agree on the thermostat setting in our house, nor the heater setting in the car. It'll be fifteen degrees outside, and my fingers are bordering on becoming popcicles, but my wife will roll down the car window while driving seventy on the freeway because she is so hot. As it turns out, this seems to be common among most married couples I've met: Disagreement with body temperatures.

Well, in the past few months, something has changed. Suddenly, my wife is freezing all the time. Of course, this also happened to be when I installed a handy digital thermostat that allows me to reduce energy bills by automatically lowering the temperature in the house at night to 62 degrees, while keeping it at 68 during the day. Regardless, if I can sleep in nothing but my underwear at night, something is seriously wrong if I wake up in the morning to find my wife sleeping with her coat and mittens on.

So, it didn't take long for me to realize the significance of this. It is the curse incarnate. (That doesn't really make any sense, but it sounds cool.) You see...let's fill in the blank:

Your desire will be for your husband to turn up the heat, and he will rule over you by insisting we need to save money.

Now, in your household, you might find the need to fill in those blanks with other things. But clearly, this is the answer to one of the Bibles most controversial points. And, since it is supposed to be a curse against women (and if you don't believe me, go look it up yourself in Genesis 3:16), clearly, it is my duty to rule over my wife and get my way on the matter.

Now, now, don't start quoting me further scripture about how men are to love their wives as themselves. I just don't wanna hear it! Because then it means I can't get my way. After all, it isn't my fault my wife decided to choose this year to alter her own body temperature, is it?

I think I'm going to be buying my wife some warm pajamas soon.

Marching Band, Revisited

I always wanted to play the trombone. In the sixth grade, when my parents were enrolling me in band, I was already a talented pianist, and enjoyed singing. But I thought long and hard, and the image of playing that slide trombone was for me.

So, I ended up playing trumpet. Two of my older brothers played trumpet, so I was to play trumpet as well. Imagine the possibilities! The Bruner Boys playing Trumpet Trios in Church. It happened, too. Once.

But, in hindsight, I wasn't sorry for the switch. I was good at trumpet and enjoyed it immensely. It was also work. Marching band, in particular. People don't seem to appreciate the arduous work behind preparing for high school marching band competitions. Two-hour after-school rehearsals three days a week, often in freezing temperatures marching uphill both ways on the field. Okay, not that last part. But it was hard. And fun. A lot of fun, at times.

So, why am I telling you about this now? Fifteen years since I marched in my last band competition? Well, because last night I had an epiphany. I put in the CD for the soundtrack to Back to the Future, Part III and, once again, realized how great a marching band program this would make. Nothing new there. But then, at one particularly dramatic moment in the music, I could see the field. See the formations. See the color guard. And then I could see how to make the entire band completely disappear, sending them back to the future!

But that's where I'm stuck. Because this grand idea is completely worthless without a band. So, if you happen to know of any band directors wanting to put together a really awesome marching band show, put them in touch with me. It irritates me that a perfectly genius idea (if I do say so myself) will go to waste.

Before I leave it at that, however, I'll fess up now. I was a high school band drop out. I was in marching band for three years. I was at the top of my game. First chair trumpet. Section leader. But I lost my passion. It was no longer fun. I just didn't want to do it anymore. So, I quit band, and attempted to shift into choir instead. Didn't work. Choir wouldn't fit my class schedule. So, I focused on piano and singing. Still, the thrill of the marching band has never really left me...and now, at least for one program, I wish I could become a band director.

So, what am I thankful for today? Music. Not only for my own abilities within music, but for the abilities of so many talented musicians that enrich our lives. I don't think a day goes by in my life where music doesn't play a role, either through listening or singing. It can help set the mood, or it can match my mood. I can appreciate the incredible power of the music from Les Miserables, or have a grand time listening to Mel Torme, or lift my own voice in worship to God, or a thousand other styles of music.

The Snow Is Melting

Yesterday, my three-year-old was distraught. He stared out a window to the hill behind our house and said, "Oh, no! The snow is melting!"

And I, being one who appreciates accuracy, said, "Actually, it's evaporating."

"It's mappabating? Why is it mappabating?"

Oops. I guess three years is a bit young to give the scientific explanations for the world. "Well, it's kind of like melting."

"Why is it melting?"

The reason he was so upset was that, after our last snowfall, he went sledding. But this snowfall, he never got the opportunity to sled. And now, the snow was disappearing from the hill, having had no opportunity to enjoy it. To a preschooler, that was reason to be distraught.

"Don't worry. It'll snow more. This is just the beginning of winter."

"It do?"

"Yes. It do."

It is sobering when a childlike perspective is pointed out. Frankly, I'm rather happy the snow is mappabating. But my son kind of pointed out the whole "look for the silver lining" concept. In our daily annoyances...and even in major life-altering events...there is some lesson to learn, something positive to hold onto.

Are you familiar with the song The Christmas Shoes? In short, a man sees a boy in the store buying a pair of shoes. The man feels annoyed at the long lines...but then he finds out that this boy is in a true hurry, wanting to buy the shoes for his dying mother. The boy tells the man, "I want her to look beautiful if Momma meets Jesus tonight!"

I'll admit, I cry like a baby everytime I listen to that song. But this man experiences a lesson in life. A lesson in patience. A lesson in appreciating what he has. He then laid the money down to buy the shoes for the boy. I doubt the boy had any idea that his own pain in losing his mother would have such an impact on another life. So much so that a song was written about him, and has been heard by millions.

We are natural complainers, I think. So self-focused we fail to see the world beyond how it affects us. And, truth be told, my son was in the same boat. He didn't want the snow to melt away until he got a chance to sled on it. Still, what a lesson to learn. Even in the troublesome times, how do we find what is good, or beneficial not just to ourselves, but others? Not an easy task, and one I must be reminded to do every day.

So what am I thankful about today? I'm thankful for the snow. For the snow that my children love so much. And not just my children. The fact is, there was a time I loved playing in the snow. Sledding down our neighbors hill. The wind stinging my cheeks. The impact of barreling into the picnic table at the bottom. The fifteen stitches that resulted. The scar on my forehead that still remains. It is all a reminder as to how even in pain, there is joy.

About Last Night

A few days ago, my wife informed me that she was kicking me out of the house on Thursday night (last night) at 7:00, and I wasn't allowed back until after 10:00. Perfect opportunity to do some writing, I thought. And, in fact, I was really into my writing last night. I had solidified two scenes in my head that I wanted to finish. For those of you who are writers, you know those times when you just are "in the flow"? Well, that's where I was last night.

Forty minutes later, my laptop informed me that the battery was almost dead, and proceeded to shut down for me. As it turns out, I had forgotten to plug in the laptop overnight. So, there I was, ideas spewing and no way to capture them. And I couldn't go home, by order of the Queen. I drove around, visiting four stores (but buying nothing) and at one point tempted to go see Harry Potter at the theatre a second time, but by myself.

I then made a trip out to Barnes and Noble. You see, it turns out one of my writer friends from Backspace had her book published already, and I hadn't realized it until yesterday. So, I thought I'd take the opportunity to go buy it. Unfortunately, they didn't have it in the store. But, no problem. I can still order it on-line. (And so can you, by the way. Key to Aten by Lynn Sinclair.)

So, by the time I got home, it was a fairly unproductive night...except for those forty minutes. Still, I managed to get another thirty minutes or so in at home, which is good. Then, rather than going to bed...I ended up staying up until 12:30 because the most important television event in ten years happened last night. Oprah Winfrey was a guest on David Letterman! I couldn't miss that, as I'm sure you couldn't either. Quite possibly more significant than when they televised the landing on the moon.

Anyhow, that's my night in a nutshell. And if you are still reading this far...you apparently have less of a life than I do!

And now...onto my thankful moment. I'm thankful for Microsoft Word's autosave feature, for it prevented the loss of some particularly good writing last night (if I do say so myself...just don't ask me what I think when I re-read it in a few days).