one of my earliest friends was a boy named chris andrews. chris was an incredibly quiet kid. on a true and non-artificial level, so was i and hence our early bond. kids weren't necessarily cruel to chris, they just weren't anything to him. my memories of him are, like the boy, quiet. but, i succinctly remember being drawn to his silent charisma. his most fetching talent was an ability to draw. even in elementary his skill at this was savant-like. as the years passed and chris became more unique compared to his peers we drifted but i always held a private admiration of him.

a few years back i saw him at my high school reunion. the two things most striking about him were his distinct presence and a palpable confidence. but just like when we were kids, it was a silent bravado. no speaking, no posturing just calm ease. this was especially drastic given all the loud and drunken showboating happening between the other ex-classmates in the crowd.

i spoke to him very much hoping his soft manner wasn't preventing him from making a way in the adult world. a few minutes in he recounted how he had just returned from a science expedition to borneo where he charted some previously unexplored caves in attempt to save it from ruin by the local government. six months later i see my man in national geographic.

the other day i sent him an email about the everyman thinking that a well-traveled fellow like himself might have a candidate or two. true to my recollection of him, his voluntary description of one of his photos was leagues better than the actual photo, and the photo is quite good. and, while it may be in poor taste for me to post, the guts of his email are simply too rousing to not share. he admittedly wished he could send more but he was off the next day on a desert trip to new mexico for a cave survey.

i like seeing things i'm not supposed to. this is not to say that you will look up one day and find me peering into your bathroom window, but it is to say that if you're showering next to me at the gym, i could later pick you out of a lineup, without ever seeing your face. i'm not sure why i'm like this but i know when it began.

i was in second grade and my after-school baby-sitter was...

chris mcgrath is back to doing what he should be doing; entertaining and educating the planet en masse. several years ago when we each had bourgeoning home pages i remember saying to him, "i post every day and have nothing to say, you actually have an interesting life and never post." while he agreed, he didn't change his behavior. he said something about the fact that he had a life was why he didn't post or some such nonsense. silly logic that.

well, it may have taken two years for him to act on my suggestion but act he has. chris, who has just returned to bosnia for three months, has committed to update his web site every day during his stay. i'm absolutely giddy. i'm telling you, i can't get enough of this guy. sienfeld would term it a non-sexual crush. for those who have seen chris in a tank-top would know that it's not exactly that. but, i could say, without causing a hiccup in a lie detector that chris is one of the most vibrant and entertaining fellows on the planet and his wife one of the most charming and calming and his child, well i got my own kid and don't ask me to go against the family.

i know i'll enjoy the next few months of getting full-frontal descriptions of chris' days and insights. and while i'd love to keep him all to myself, his entries are just too entertaining. so i welcome you to swing by and catch up and then keep up at chrismcgrath.com because we're all going to be a little richer in the end. i know of what i speak.

this is what could have happened and this is what did happen.

not only am i baltimore-bound to serve as best man to the doctor of diss, but earlier this week i was asked to do the same for bookpimp in his upcoming knot-tieing-fest later this decade.

question: how many people think they could dress me up, stand me on a perch in front of hundreds of people, hand me a microphone and hope for the best? if you answered two, you would be correct.

another question: should these guys be concerned of what might get said on their behalf? only if the terms severed foreskin, private place, first time and drifting methane swill cause you, your family and/or closest friends any sort of discomfiture.

i'm sure all will go swimmingly.

i'm sure all will go memorably at the least.

UPDATE 3: we may have 2 more slots filled on the taos ski bonanza.

UPDATE 4: now i know this will be the second time i've talked about it after saying i would no longer talk about it, but the everyman made usa today's top sites.

anyone want to go skiing next month? the lodging is on me.

i'm serious. if you can get to taos, new mexico and i know you or you can confirm you will not be anal-raping any of the other flat-mates, you're welcome to share in this late february boondoggle.

again, i'm serious. i've got room for 6 more. i'm counting bookguy as two because i've traveled with him before and his digestive tract requires a single bed of its own.

viable candidates may contact me directly to discuss specifics.

UPDATE 1: okay. two spots are tentatively taken. i say tentative because one guy needs to get a wave from his parole officer and the other needs to get a wave from the free clinic. i'd mention chlymidia but i don't know that i'm sure how to spell chlamydia.

UPDATE 2: and i know i said i was done with the everyman, but yesterday this happened which caused 3,700 hits from yahoo. to recap that is 1154, 2054, 3700. anybody got any loose jack around to help me with an excessive bandwidth charge from my web host.

Someone told me this funky thing about breathing air previously breathed by others. because our atmosphere is finite, air moves around the world, gets used, recyclyed and used again. Given this, if you are 30 years old you have most likely had air that Einstein, Shakespeare, Ceasar and JFK breathed coarse through your own body. Pretty cool eh.

Before you get too stoked about it realiz...

ok, i've got some bad news for you all. well actually it's bad news for me, but in my mildly egotistic world, that extends to you as well. i was recently told my job was toast. that isn't exactly right. i was told my job was moving. to portland. now don't get me wrong. i love portland. i think it's the most centered city i've seen. but let me tell you something about my life (for a change).

after bella was born a year and a half ago, my mom came out to visit and help. she then returned home and promptly quit her very posh job in pittsburgh to take a very evil job in saint louis just so she could be closer to this tiny non-speaking, non-sleeping bundle of late nights. this was one of the many examples of living by your priorities i've witnessed in my mother.

when my boss was discussing the relocation package i explained that it would have to cover 7 homes and 26 humans. when asked to expound on this need, i countered that that is what it would take to move 4 grandparents, 5 of 7 siblings and a whole gob of screaming cousins to portland because i wasn't going without them, cool city or not. the boss blinked.

so i have two interviews today. i have a couple more in the hopper as well should these not pan out. wish me well at 10 and 2 (cst). otherwise, i'll see you in the unemployment line with an unwashed bella and shoeless marty.

and, by the way, when my parents came over for dinner last night and bella went running to the door with flailing arms and indecipherable greetings, i knew my choice was the right one, regardless of today's outcome.

10 days off work
16 days away from home
2,600 miles over construction-ridden interstates
48 hours in a rented mini van
4 uproarious travel partners
10 north american states
8 sunny days on the beach
9 competitive days of tennis
1 lap around d.c.'s mall
16 iterations of mamma mia on the hi-fi
1 backyard wedding
5 tetris competitions
7 episodes of world's scariest police chases
1 great house-sitter

and after all of the above blessings it was this single item

1 open flatulence rule

that turned what should have been a frolic-filled holiday into an every man for themselves version of survivor on wheels.

and, the only reason i'm not filled with hate given this tenet of war can be gleaned in that it was i who proved the victor in this improvised test of perseverance and dedication to all that is unhealthy to eat and subsequently digest.

so i'm walking into the rising tide of the atlantic ocean. this is about the third, maybe fourth time i've been in such waters. the waves are getting higher, first hitting my waist, then my chest. given my imposing five foot two frame it didn't take long for the waves to dance about my face. at this point i presented my back to the white-capped waves because i'm smarter than water. as i was congratulating myself on this innovation of thought, a not-too-modest wall of water came from behind and swept my no-longer-that-imposing frame into its dominion and away we went. after being easily spun around in its wash and thinking this was kinda fun, mr water slammed me hard on my back against the sand causing the air to leave my lungs and salt-water to enter my mouth, via the nose, for my added pleasure. after being rolled and thrashed about for a moment, the current loosened and i shot up with that "yeah, I'm all right, no worries here" pose.

about 20 minutes later as we were packing up to leave, i bent over to grab something and approximately a half cup of sea water came pouring out of my nose. allow me to re-visit the highlights: nostrils, out, 1/2 cup of water.

that said, a travel mate told me that what happened there is routine and can even violate other orifices. i pondered this for a moment, just a single moment. allow me to re-visit the highlights: violate, other, orifices.

i'm going to be away for a short bit. not the kind of 'away' that your uncle went on when you were eight. but not a whole lot different from that either. the brochure for the re-assignment clinic is vague about internet access so i'll have to feel the whole connected thing out, between procedures that is.

and oh yeah, i can assure you that this month's menu is a rare occurrance and we'll be back full-force come september.

i drove all over the country this weekend and send the following messages.

1. to the green jeep girl who drives with her left foot on the dashboard: enjoyed swapping the lead position for 150 miles through ohio.
2. to the droves of people who don't understand the purpose of the PASSING lane: (edited for legal reasons)
3. to the mini van whose driver was eating an egg-mcmuffin AND talking on a cell phone in Indiana: get off my road.
4. to the construction geniuses in Indianapolis who added over an hour to my voyage: i boycott your city.
5. to the girls in the red cavalier who worked very hard to catch up to me so they could laugh and ridicule my seat dancing and open window loud singing to Nu Shooz: i commend your commitment to mockery and it is justified, but you can't keep me from the point of no return.

been away again. this time i was off auditioning for the part of tubbs on the soon to be produced miami vice feature length film.

It is not recommended to walk into jakes crawfish, oregon's number one fish eatery, at 7pm and expect a table in less than an hour. When the hostess said that she could possibly seat me immediately if I didn't mind an outside table, I replied, "if you can put a stuffed salmon in front of me in the next twenty minutes I'd eat it off the floor." Convinced of my zeal I was promptly escorted to a sidewalk table.

For those dining along this row of exterior tables, especially those dining alone, they may elect to pass the time by watching the patrons of the gay bar tounge-kissing and massaging one another's buttocks across the street or taking in the opposing corner which sports a small collection of young, but fashionable, homeless begging money while drinking, the very in, sobe ales and smoking name brand cigarettes. And, If for any reason the humor seems lean in either of these venues, you can watch jake's grunged out valet guys ogling the high dollar patrons exiting their employer's establishment.

And all of this to brie and shrimp stuffed salmon and garlic mashed potatoes. Portland is my friend.

i'm off yet again to the city that turned this 30-something into a fish eater. yep, portland, the oregon variety, not that maine rip-off. and since it's the skiing off-season, i reckon i should get a reasonable amount of work in this time, but there's always powell's bookstore to keep a working stiff sane.

so, updates will be spotty, at best, the rest of the week. i'll see if i can throw you a bone, a skinny salmon bone, at the least before my return.

talk soon.

for Thin When Tan Girl and any other people doubting last friday's itinerary, it was the real deal.

except the 11:00 am item should read 11:09 am because bookguy was off eating a bagel somewhere neglecting the pickup we had agreed to. he could of and should have been on time but he was struggling with his guilt for spending all of his money feeding himself and consequently not hooking his driving compatriot up in any way. fortunately i had some peanuts left from the plane ride i could suck on, to make them last, during the trip as to not go into a low blood sugar state.

so someone told me they did not think yesterday's menu confession was all that crazed, thus negating at least their opinion that i'm bent. given this surprising development, i'm compelled to throw another log on the fire in pursuit of my seemingly simplistic goal.

bookguy is driving from cleveland to st louis today to visit. this morning, while he packs at his home, i will be boarding a plane in saint louis, en route to cleveland. at 10:42 my plane lands. at 11:00 i will climb into bookguy's waiting truck where we will pull onto the highway and begin the 9-hour driving trek to st louis. i've yet to share this plan without the listener looking at me with a wondrous stupor in their eyes, their expression unmistakable. my adoring wife even added an eyeroll for good measure.

now that i possess your attention, please realize that 10, 20 even 30 years from now i will still fondly remember the day i flew to cleveland only to climb into a oversized truck and drive right back to saint louis with my good friend bookguy. should someone ask you a year from now to recall what you did on friday, june 07, 2002, you will most likely not remember this same day with a like vividness, assuming of course you do not have a similar itinerary which i can assure you, you do not.

now don't worry about me, it's not like i'll get sleepy while driving because in this respect bookguy and i are like an old married couple, where i'm not allowed behind the wheel. it's simply understood that bookguy drives and i sit by his side entertaining him all the while. early in our relationship, we used to sit closer, close enough for him to put his arm around me. when i asked him why we don't do that anymore, he replied "i'm still sitting in the same place, you're the one way over there."

perhaps there's good reason he's in the captain's chair and i'm holding the soda.

headed to portland for the rest of the week.

while it is a work trip, i'm certain to spend a fair amount of time here.

sorry bookpimp but it's really not my fault.

two weeks after buying my first ipod, I purchased my second ipod at the apple store in st paul's atrocity of america. this would be because 9 days after buying my first ipod, apple released a newer and bigger ipod for a mere $100 more and as I like to say when dealing in such matters, they're giving them away. So now instead of 5gb I have 10gb of space and instead of having 1000 songs I have 2000.

the first thing marty asked was where i planned on getting the extra 100 bucks. i was happy to report that my wedding ring already drew an impressive $135 on ebay.

the flight from portland to saint louis is over four hours long. my particular flight left at 6:29 am and i was the last one to check in therefore getting stuck in a middle seat. being exhausted i knew i was going to be snoozing before we even got off the ground. i asked the people on either side of me to wake me up if i started doing any weird stuff in my sleep. they asked what i meant by weird. "oh i don't know, reciting lines from pretty in pink or groping myself, i reckon you'll know it if you see it."

i was right, they knew it. halfway through the flight i was roused from my slumber and told that if i was going to keep doing "that", they'd prefer i stay awake.

i'm headed to portland for a little work and a whole lot of boondoggling. you can be certain that you will be hearing and seeing the humor before long. more than anything, i just wanted to forewarn you that updates will be a little spotty at best for the next several days. had i planned better i would have turned the update duties over to one of my esteemed readers. ok, so we all know that i absolutely would have turned over the reigns had i two esteemed readers to rub together. will you look at that, another potential entry is born.

and for any wondering if i've packed yet, know that i've packed my recently delivered issue of Large and in Charge and i'm quite honestly thinking anything else i may remember to bring would be gravy.

been in chicago since friday. good trip. have been totally disconnected since thursday night. kind of nice. have more stuff to say but after sleep. see you on wednesday.

while you all have been scrambling to get your everyman photos in, i've been shooting a few of my own around. tonight i received an email from one of the recipients telling me 'Congratulations! Your photograph has been added to the mirror project.' look at me walking the walk. i guess it's about time because i think i have the talking the talk down pretty well. anyway, you can see my mirror here should you be so inclined. unfortunately, for my regulars this is recycled product. sorry. but it is currently 1:51am which is early compared to when i originally sent them my submission, so suck it up and be happy for us here.

I recently learned that one should never take a date to an amusement park. I haven't seen a more date-hostile environment since Sheila Michaels took me to a canceled Agent Orange concert than what we experienced on our recent boondoggle to Cedar Point where I witnessed not one, but two highly vicious and very public scraps between young couples.

In each case it was the girl who was ma...

I had a rare day yesterday.

I got caught and subsequently drenched in a rainstorm destroying my umbrella while walking home from the metro.

I had three flights to Cincinnati canceled due to the same storm that soaked me hours earlier.

Because of these negated flights, I had to drive 350 miles to attend a meeting, leaving St. Louis at 5pm.

I spent an hour trying to rent a car because the agency just couldn't get their arms around a one way trip.

I got pinned in a traffic jam because a semi hit an overpass and exploded (no embellishment).

And, I almost missed my morning meeting the next day because I couldn't find my car key which was later discovered to be dangling from the driver's side door lock.

So after all of this you know what I was thinking? I'm thankful that I didn't get struck by lighting. I'm thankful that airlines don't take their passengers lives lightly. I'm thankful that I live in a country where I can, at a moments notice, drive through four states without applying for permission. I'm thankful that our capitalist society allows me to temporarily rent an automobile. I'm thankful that I was not driving the truck that turned fireball. I'm thankful the wrong person didn't happen upon my car with the key hanging in the door. And I'm thankful that I can wake up in the morning even if only to experience a day as shitty as that. And, that is what I was and am thinking.