The Hiking Writer

Here are some of my New Year wishes:

To the Republican Party: I don't care about your religion. Quit talking abou it.

To the Democratic Party: Say something of substance, just once. Anybody.

To the American public: Please, stop showing interest in the Paris/Lindsay/Brittney three-headed train wreck. Turn the channel. Don't click the link. Cute, drunk and stupid is not a good reason to make money.

To the Hollywood Writers Guild: It might be time to get an agreement made and get back to doing what you do. Please.

To myself: Eat less, exercise more, write more, quit wasting time, finish the book

To my Mom: Travel more, you have your health, go for it.

To everyone going to zoos: Please don't tease the big cats, or bears, or any other animal that can eat you.

To Pakistan: Free elections and peace

To Iraq: Self rule and an American withdrawal

To RGW: A finish in the Louisville Triathalon

To G-money: Marital bliss

Worst headline ever on CNN in reference to Benazir Bhutto's assasination today. When you have suicide bombers, you can pretty much safely assume they are extremists.

In other news, Water Blamed in Flooding.

Yes, I hate the news media.

But I loved it when I was a kid. Little River Band.




Not to be outdone by their classic "Lady" (RealAudio)

Totally unexpected, a pair of gaiters for bad weather hiking.

Google it.

Or whatever your religion celebrates this time of year.

Please take these holiday wishes in the best spirit of the season, peace and joy to you and yours.

You shined like the sun. Shine on you crazy diamond.

From my "boss", it's a mesh squishy stress ball.

I've been squeezing the silly thing all day, both hands are going to be sore in the morning.

I'm a doofus.

UPDATE: I'm a doofus with a strong grip. I popped the darn thing in less than 8 hours. It's full of clear silicone jelly.

Sigh.

I wrote about this last Christmas, and was reminded again of it this year. Enjoy.

When I was about 10 or so, my "big gift" for the year was a forgone conclusion. My Mom and Dad had taken me out to find the exact gift I wanted, and that gift was a monsterously long electric racing car track. In the neighborhood of 60 ft of track, this Tyco set covered an entire regulation ping pong table almost completely and had 3 levels with about 5 straightaways and a circular column at one end, where the track spiraled up almost a foot from the table top.

It was truly  glorious thing to see on a box when you are a 10 year old boy.

On Christmas Eve, I went to bed with visions of racing cars and trigger controllers zooming through my head.

My Dad, as always, played into the Santa myth, and NEVER assembled any big gifts until the kids went to bed. On this night, the track would get the best of him. I would find out years later that my Dad labored over that track until well after 3 AM, and as I was told, he never got it working. This is an amazing thing in and of itself, since my Dad was pretty much an electronics whiz. On thop of this, he was a HUGE car racing fan, and I'm sure the track beckoned his long dormant inner child. I'm positive that if the track had been working, my Dad would have been up till 3 AM racing the cars rather than sweating and cursing quietly while wondering why the damned thing would not work.

So, accepting failure, my Dad (at Mom's behest) went to bed expecting to show me the present assembled in the morning, but having to apologize to me that it wasn't working and explaining that we would have to return it for a new one.

Fast forward to 8:00 AM.

Like any 10 year old boy on Christmas morning, as soon as the sun tickled the back of my eyelids, I was out of bed like a bolt. Running downstairs, I looked at the ping pong table in complete AWE. This track WAS HUGE! This thing was going to be SO FUN! All the neighborhood kids would be GREEN WITH ENVY! This was the perfect present!

Little did I know of any electric snafu during the previous night, so I plugged in the transformer, grabbed one of the cars, slotted it in the track, picked up the trigger controller and just started racing. As simple as that, off it went down the straightaway to the circular tower making 3 rotations before flying down another straightaway and around the seemingly neverending track. I was in 10 year old boy Heaven.

Less than half hour later, Mom and Dad made their way downstairs with my sisters (the ever sleepy ones) in tow. As they turned the corner from the stairs, both of my parents froze. A quick look was traded between the two of them, but that was all. My Mom and my sisters started to look at packages under the tree and my Dad made his way to the track, where he picked up a controller and joined me for a little while with a silly grin on his face.

I never knew that morning was a Christmas miracle until I was 21, but to this day, I will always remember Dad's silly grin that morning. Little did I know what it meant.  

Very psyched. Just starting.

It's been all over the place this season. Lots of story lines to come together. I hope it doesn't disappoint.

WOW. Nothing like a real attention grabber to start.

Psycho Lila kills Doakes in scene 1.

Saw it coming: Dex kills Lila in Paris at the end. She had it coming.

This was a complete departure from the books. Don't bother reading them if you want to follow the series.

Good god we're snake bitten again.

First it was football, now basketball.

At the beginning of the season, we had an incredibly deep team. Now thanks to David Padgett cracking a kneecap and Derrick Caracter being an immature man-child, we have no back line to speak of and we don't play good defense.

Thankfully the basketball season is long.

I remain hopeful.