As I said, I drew some, but not a lot. I grew up watching my mom draw, paint, use pastels, study tons of art books.

But I was completely intimidated by anyone who could draw, including my mother. The one summer enrichment class I took pretty much sealed the deal for me. As much as I loved drawing technical pictures (I drew a slew of guns for a history project and discovered planes and boats and guns were things I could draw quite well), I thought that any type of artist could "just draw." So, during that summer enrichment class, I worked diligently, but was rather disappointed that there didn't seem to be much "here's how you do this" kind of teaching, which is what I really respond to. I did one landscape where I never did like the perspective, so I kept re-working it. I added more details ... and then something else, a fence post, a no trespassing sign.

But the last straw was the last assignment for that class - a simple still life: draw a realistic apple. But I really didn't understand anything about chiaroscuro (shading - light and dark) and the more I tried, the more frustrated I got. I finally got pissed and stopped.

And that's when my mom got involved and drawing stopped being fun.

She took one look at the twelve-year-old's mess I'd made of that apple drawing and began being "helpful." Look, it's been not quite thirty years since then and with an adult's perspective, I know that she thought she was being helpful. But her method of helping was to tell me to sit down and do it "right." Once again, I didn't get any real instruction on how to actually accomplish this. So, an otherwise fun activity became a terrible homework assignment and a Saturday of summer vacation turned into a freaking nightmare. Even after Mom was satisfied, I still wasn't. I didn't like the way it looked and I didn't like that I'd wasted a ton of time on it and still it wasn't "right."

That was the last time I tried to draw for about twenty-five years or so.

Then, I was surrounded by creative people - artists.

I had just lost my job with that stupid university that I try not to even utter its name anymore and took a job as a copy writer at a major e-commerce company. I had been hired originally because along with my writing experience, I'd been doing web design for the university since 1997. I had been doing more and more "digital art," which I didn't think was really art at the time. So when we hired a graphic designer, I spent a ton of time looking over his incredibly patient shoulder and he was quite happy to show off his serious skillz.

And I slowly learned that I knew more than I thought I did about design and art. That gave me confidence.

The other thing that happened at the same time was the graphic designer told me he couldn't "do" a certain type of art/drawing.

Suddenly something clicked for me.

When I taught freshman writing, I often wrote a Hemingway quote up on the board the first day of class: The first draft of anything is shit.

Being rather sheltered 18 year olds, it took them quite a while to get over the shock of seeing the word "shit" up on the board. One student even asked if he could tell his mom that I wrote a, and I quote, "naughty word" up on the board. The point I made to my students repeatedly was this: No writer EVER went up to their little writing studio and churned out a perfect first draft which became some literature masterpiece. No poet, no dramatist, no novelist, no short-story writer.

The first draft of anything is shit.

Well, hell. How often had I read Chaim Potok's My Name Is Asher Lev and read about Asher doing practice sketches and practice sketches and practice pieces. Didn't the same thing apply to painting/drawing/sculpting as it did to writing?

I also knew from my writing that you develop a style ... and that it's difficult to force yourself into a particular style. You either "feel" a style and it's an authentic extension of you ... or it's a bit flat.

I began drawing again. The guys encouraged me and while I don't link to the quasi-comic book I did any more, I did leave the site up still. (It's a survivor's comic ... not for children or the squeamish) I began to develop a style ... sort of ... or at least explore what types of drawing I enjoyed and was good at.

And then I bought Chris Hart's Cartoon Cool, which I credit with really getting me back into the game. That book encapsulated a lot of the stuff I like - cartoon, animation, design. There's a focus on character design rather than background - which quite rightfully is an art in and of itself. I discovered Mike Rohde's "sketchtoons" and studied what he'd done, drew it for myself. There were definitely differences and I didn't like some of what I'd done ... but I suddenly found that I had more confidence than I'd had before.

And the guys in the office encouraged me. They took my thoughts on site design seriously and I was able to take on junior designer duties and eventually more than just "junior." They managed to critique my sketches without slicing me to ribbons - they let me do that part - and they encouraged me to keep going.

What I learned through all of this is that you can draw ... and you can write ... it's a matter of a couple of small things:

• remind yourself that the first draft of anything is shit
• it takes time and many pieces of paper
• mimicry is the way most artists/writers learn
• you don't improve if you give up
• you have to finish the drawing to learn from it
• those "here's how you draw" pages in kids' books? they're not dumbed down directions for kids. You really DO need to draw those shapes and guidelines and then erase them - it's not cheating!

I can't tell you how many times I thought something I was working on sucked and I forced myself to finish it "as an exercise - I'll never show it to anyone" ... only to have it turn out pretty damn well and I was proud of it after all.

Drawing, writing ... like so many things in life, these are about how much time we're willing to put into the end product. My high school creative writing teacher, whom I thought wrote some damn good pieces, claimed he was not, in fact, a good writer. He was a good re-writer. He put his work through a minimum of 10-12 drafts. And, he was primarily a novelist, not a short story writer.

For me, I happened to hit on the style I prefer at a time when there are a fair amount of people doing that style. It gave me the confidence to continue. I still have to FORCE myself to not abandon drawings. I still get that petulant 12 year old insisting "I can't do this!" I still compare myself to folks like those in my sidebar - I am nowhere near their level - any of them. But I get enjoyment at it. And I continue to get better.

And after years and years of saying "I can't even draw stick figures" ... I've learned that I was simply too scared to work at drawing. My stick figures do suck ... but that's because I'm not invested in them and don't want to take any time on them.

Yes, I am incredibly jealous of people like Craig McCracken, Ben Balistreri, David Lapham and a slew of others, who as best I can tell, just draw these things like other people breathe air - easily and naturally. I'm jealous that they can turn out more stuff more quickly than I - but I no longer say I can't draw.

So for those of you who say "I can't do it" - I challenge you to find something like Chris Hart's Cartoon Cool - something simple and work on sketching out things from the book. Look at the shapes. Don't be afraid to erase - and erase a LOT! Erasing doesn't always mean mistakes - it means you're careful enough to draw the necessary guidelines so that you can get it right.

Make first drafts. Learn from them. Take small things from them and ditch what's not working without recrimination.

And when you're not having fun with it, when you're not relaxed with it ... take a break. Remind yourself it's an exercise and come back to it later.

Hey, if I can draw, anyone can.

early character sketches, most of which are utter poo

At any rate, here's a snippet of a recent project - just a corner of a blog banner:

Now, a note to all of you who tell me "I can't even draw a stick figure":
I drew a fair amount as a child. Not a ton, but probably more than some kids. My mom had art supplies galore in the house. She did pastels, some oils, more acrylics. She took classes, she was forced to branch out into cardboard 3D stuff. I can recall my love/hate relationship with her Prismacolor markers (which is probably why I adore Copic markers so very, very much now).

All that said, I did not grow up loving art. I took one summer art class as part of an enrichment program and it mostly involved letting us doodle and get out of the house for a few hours so Mom wouldn't go nuts. I grew up loving cartoons and being completely intimidated by anyone who could draw.

Crap. I have about ten minutes and about an hour's worth of things to write. But I want to get this post up before work, so I'll let it go with just this snippet and image. But expect a lecture on drawing tomorrow ....

And, of course, I had to purchase as well. It's a cute little booklet - in the fiction or poetry world it would be called a chapbook. There's no linear story per se, it's just this little guy wandering around the countryside. Black and white, simple backgrounds, loads of facial expression and character. It reminds me quite a bit of Walt Kelly's Pogo stuff, actually.

So, whilst at a church "game night" Saturday, I decided to have a go at drawing one of the pages from Wander Over Yonder. Sketching in pencil has become somewhat comfortable for me now (somewhat - I absolute HATED the pencil sketch of a beach scene I started before I switched to working on this drawing that night), so I decided to force myself to draw this little McCracken guy in ink only. Naturally the first stroke I made was not exactly absolutely the same as what I saw on the page before me ... and I was instantly forced to draw more and sketch-mimic-erase less.

Some examples from the sketchbook posted on his wife's site, Milky Way and the Galaxy Girls, are here.

I was the ultimate recycling kid. I made shelves out of cardboard and string, I made space ships for my Fisher Price Adventure People out of the packaging to mom's acrylic and oil paints. And that tendency hasn't gone away as I've gotten older. Let me put it this way. My dad was a VP at EDS at one point. Total suit, executive computer guy. And he would bring home dingy dumb terminals, clocks, office chairs - from the DUMPSTER at work. Drove my mom nuts - this executive in a suit would take off his jacket and go dumpster diving at work. Heh.

So, imagine my surprise when I was taking out the recycling last week and I discovered this:

Yep, a 20 sided die. GOLD, no less, sparkling at the end of the driveway. And whilst the original owner apparently failed a saving throw, it was rolled to a perfect 20 for me! WOOHOO! SCORE!

And then tonight, whilst hunting for the egg slicer which has, apparently, disappeared off the face of the earth, I got on a ladder and hunted in the top cabinet of the house we've lived in for umm, nearly seven years now, and I made another discovery.

First, the house was built in 1952 and I keep hoping we'll find some really cool retro stuff. So far that's been held to an Indiana State Trooper hardhat (pretty cool), a pair of women's motorcycle boots, and a can of Harley Davidson paint that has to be from the 50s or 60s. Some cool stuff, but nothing spectacular.

Our kitchen cabinets are a little ... eccentric. The kitchen itself is tiny - about the size of my cubicle at work. You can't open the oven and the fridge at the same time, counterspace is non existent, no room for a dishwasher and the microwave takes up an entire counter. The massive KitchenAid mixer and the toaster pretty much take up the other side of the sink.

So there are odd corners to these cabinets. And today, whilst hunting that elusive egg slicer for my salad tonight, I made a new retro discovery. I think these damn things have been in the house since it was built ... and there's only one piece missing ... I give you the all important ... Nikoban!

Go ahead and click the pic for a larger size - you can actually read the back of the box and learn about the "slight astringent burrs" that might form from chewing this crap.
Heh, and yes, I took that picture of the eldery Nikoban gum on top of my Hardy Boys Season 1 DVD. I still have to rip that DVD to my iPod ....

Definitely a critical hit of finds over the last week!

Before I go any further, let me point out one fact: I am a survivor. I know first-hand the types of things some of these offenders have done and the pain and long-term effects those actions can have.

That said, the law in Miami which forbids these convicted offenders from living within 2500 feet of anyplace kids might congregate means these folks are living in a tent city under a bridge, because there is nowhere in Miami for them to live otherwise. They are literally being dropped off by Florida's correctional system at the bridge with no money, no water, no food ... no toilet facilities ... they are being issued driver's licenses which list the bridge as their "home" address.

Dr. Pedro Jose Greer of Florida International University (Dean of Humanities, Health and Society) says "This is the stupidest damn law I have ever seen and it's purely mandated by revenge without any consideration for the well-being of these people - who deserve better despite the severity of their crimes."

I agree.

Yes. That's what I said. It is one thing if our justice system were able to sentence someone to a life in a tent city for their crimes - some kind of Coventry area. However, we don't do that. We sentence people to time in jail - and I will certainly be the first to say we often don't sentence them long enough for the things they've done. But that's the way the system is currently. We sentence them to time served and then we say they've paid their debt to society and we set them free. Their rights are curtailed. They are going to find it difficult to find employment.

Their lives are not going to be easy. Perhaps they will be easier than the lives of the children they violated, but that is not the issue. Our justice system is not really built on "an eye for an eye" in a strict, literal fashion. We have instead opted to say that murder is equal to twenty years to life in prison, for example. We have opted to say that a rape equals, on average in the U.S., a sentence of 11.8 years, with an actual time served being more like five and half years. (source, source) We have, in some states, opted to say that aggravated rape is equal to the death penalty (Louisiana). Some states offer to reduce sentences if the convicted will undergo chemical castration - that's another controversy/issue altogether. But our justice system is based on: serve time, pay your debt, rejoin society, debt paid.

These consequences are all things that most Americans know about our justice system and our society. You commit a serious crime, you're going to do time and then you are going to have a difficult time getting a job when you get out. As a registered sex offender, you're going to be required to also tell the system where you're living. In many areas, you are going to have to live a certain distance from schools, et cetera.

But Miami's law goes too far and in my opinion becomes cruel and unusual punishment. What's worse is this punishment occurs after we claim these folks have paid their debt to society. If we want to punish sex offenders more severely, we need to change the laws about their incarceration times because that is how we handle crime and punishment in the U.S.

To condemn these people to a tent city AFTER their time in jail is to, in essence, sink to the level of their crime. The city of Miami is violating people who are already vulnerable.

Think about it apart from their crime: dropped off at a bridge. Under the bridge, you have huts and tents. People living in squalor with no running water, no sanitary facilities ... people with little hope of living any kind of normal life again. Really think about this ... drop off people in an area where they are deprived of everything, an area which is actually worse than prison because now they don't have a guarantee of shelter or food ... or even basic sanitation. Where is their motivation to behave? Where is their motivation to become productive members of society again? It seems to me they have only two intelligent choices: leave Miami (if the terms of their sentence allow it and they can afford to leave, that is), or commit another serious crime and go back to prison where they are guaranteed shelter, food and sanitation. They lose freedom, but gain some security.

We know, from studying modern correctional facilities that many inmates aren't rehabilitated in the typical prison, that instead, many of them learn new skills in illegal activities because they learn from each other.

Let's think about that a moment, shall we?

Is it wise to turn some 70 pedophiles loose together in a tent town where they have no real hope of ever being a part of normal society again? Don't you think at least some of them are going to plan more offenses together and maybe learn from each others' mistakes?

I mean if we're not going to consider the humanity of these folks - which I think is a cruel and petty way to be - at least can we look at consequences of this kind of petty punishment?

In my own petty hours when I really think of what I was forced to go through ... how my entire life was shaped and warped by events over which I had no control at all ... yes, I want petty punishments for those responsible. But I am bigger than my id. Instead I would prefer things like mandatory counseling, stiffer prison sentences, making them pay for the victim's counseling ... up front "fees" that are in line with our justice system's precedents.

It's not right to hold these folks in a kind of double-jeopardy punishment where the sentence served is only the smallest part of their true punishment.

While I would love to see the punishment of sex offenders in general intensified, this is not the way to do it - to tell them they've paid their debt, but now there's all of these hidden fees to pay which total quite a bit more than the original bill ....

And oh, how ironic is it that I write this post as Father's Day 2009 slips away?

I know, he looks a little lost there on the floor, doesn't he? That's "crabcakes" at his feet, one of Scraps' favourite small toys. And that turtle is bigger than Tieg - nearly bigger than Scraps. Apparently both boys really enjoy huge toys.

We call this the teepee. Originally Scout would go in there and huddle and sometimes she still uses it, but the little boy here loves it. He's taken all of the jingle balls he can find and hoarded them along with a few other toys. He also seems to think that the teepee itself is a toy as seen here. He will bite the edges and then try to drag it around. Of course, that doesn't work really well when he's inside it, but somehow that doesn't seem to matter. What's best is he'll go play in there for a while and be self-contained and quiet. Everyone will forget where he is ... until one of the other animals walks past and he springs out like a freaking trap door spider, lightning fast, and strikes at the innocent passer-by. Scraps, as you might guess, is not really that amused by it.

But I am.

Scraps' favourite toy is his bear. It's about twice as big as he is and so far, this is the only toy that both boys can play with at the same time. I got this for Scraps ages ago because he "stole" my coyote stuffie that was as big as he was and had the same soft, silky texture as this bear. He was so proud, walking through the house with this coyote toy, proud he could lift something so big, so happy that I'd brought him a treat. I'd gotten it at a zoo and for me because, well, duh, I have a love of coyotes (except for the human coyotes - those assholes can eat shit and die). Anyhow, not to digress, I felt guilty and decided to get Scraps a replacement that was both large and that same texture. He LOVES that bear, dragging it around, shake-killing it, laying on top of it and chewing the ears ... he just loves it.

So of course, I got it out yesterday and got the puppy to attack it. Scraps was not so sure of that and immediately hopped down and also began attacking bear. I kept hold of bear and let the boys play "tug" with me making sure the puppy got to keep his grip. They were both ecstatic and had quite the grand time playing together. Scraps is happy because Scout will NOT play tug ... at all. As soon as Scraps starts to tug hard, she lets go with this pitiful, "I thought we were playing, why are you being mean" look. She just doesn't get the concept at all.

Apparently Tieg gets the concept. I expect the boys to have tons of fun together once Tieg stops trying to bite everything in his path with those little razor puppy-teeth.

At any rate, there is a book called Shatnerquake. No, I'm not kidding.

You see? Right there. Shatnerquake. You can even buy it for your Kindle on Amazon. And, being a devout anti-Trekkie/anti-Trekker how do I know about this book? Well, because despite the fact that I am a Star Wars Geek who pretty much hates Star Trek (in general, some episodes of tNG were good and same for DS9), I do adore one person who too often gets characterized as a Star Trek actor, but really he's just this guy, you know? So anyhow, Wil mentioned this book he found in Seattle.

And it sparked a pun war of sorts. A virtual explosion of tweets last night predicting ever more dire endings to the world via Star Trek characters and actors.

My favourites, in the order in which they were tweeted:

• nppyinzer: @wilw I assume these disasters are harbingers of the Aspockalypse
• DeWayneFeenstra: @wilw i got the sequel to shatnerquake- AfterSpock!
• LeEnfantSamedi: @wilw A seismic SPOCKWAVE!
• T_Lawson: @wilw and then TNG becomes fair game - Frakes of Wrath, LeVar & Away, East of Wheaton, Dorn to be Wild, Spiner Tap...
• IanKC: @wilw Someone get Dr. Crusher, I think I have Wes Nile Virus :(
• PhilipWheeler: @wilw I only get about on average 7 of 9 these puns
• Tim3P0: @wilw Tasha Yarrmaggedon
• talekyn: @wilw My friend Dennis just suggested a summer theater production: Frakespeare in the Park.
• MarcSchlaf: @wilw Lest we forget EarthFrakes and ThunderDorns.
• harlander: @wilw The final book in the series must, of course, be Doohansday
• goonie_girl: @wilw one before bed: "Troinado."
• Totz_the_Plaid: @wilw You can't forget "Chekovs and Balances"
• Thomas_Green: @wilw "Worfcano", (and games) "World of Warp-Craft", "Dungeons and Klingons".
• Thomas_Green: @wilw (and movies) "I was a Teenage WereWorf", "Finding Nimoy", "The Sacking of Troi", "Prisoner of Rikers Island" Starring: Ernest Borg-9,
• Thomas_Green: @Mystoffolyees @wilw then there's the song "Like a Bridge over Tribbled Waters" or the movie "Big Tribble in Little China"
• HavTuf: @wilw Picard, any card
• HavTuf: @wilw how the Wes was won.
• Thomas_Green: @wilw And my final contribution to the PUNisnment.. "In 2012 the world WILL be destroyed by a huge As-TROI-D..."
• Hesster56: @wilw Sulunami.

Were I building the series, I would go with:

• Shatnerquake


• AfterSpock


• EarthFrakes and ThunderDorns


• Troinado


• Sulunami


• Aspockalypse

And now ... Hey Rocky, watch me while I pull a rabbit out of this hat!

I thought I could bull through it, forced myself to go to work. Thought it would be ok. Lasted about 45 minutes and then about ralfed. I know, TMI, TMI.

Hopefully this will be over with soon (I've mostly felt better this evening) and I can finally snap the pic I need to get the next post published.

But I always struggled making friends. Maybe it was because we moved seven times to six cities before I started kindergarten. And then I went to 3 elementary schools, moved towns once more ... and did 3 semesters at one junior high and 3 semesters at another. It could be that. But I think it's something more fundamental to my core personality.

As a child, I could chat with adults quite comfortably. Other children, on the other hand, confused me. I felt a bit like Invader Zim in his human suit - except I had no plans to actually take over the world. I was an alien surrounded by real people and I could never quite figure out how they worked or what so many of their gestures or phrases or looks meant. I could hang around with a bunch of different groups of kids ... but I was always on the periphery.

As an adult, that's not really changed - I'm constantly misreading cues from others and misinterpreting things. At the same time, I can generally tell you someone's motivations for actions.

When I first started going to a certain activity as an adult, I didn't expect to like it or to make friends. I'd long since learned that I suck at making friends. I tagged along at first because my partner enjoyed going to this group activity and wanted me to come as well. I was quite surprised to discover I enjoyed the hell out of it. I hoped that I would be able to fit in and to make friends ... but I was unsurprised to have this not really happen. Don't get me wrong, there are several folks I've met there whose company I really enjoy and would love to call friend - but seems like it's mostly a one-way relationship and frankly, I get tired of trying so hard to keep it going.

You can only invite someone over so many times before you get the message, you know?

Eventually, I joined a subgroup in this place - love every minute of it. It's an activity that stretches me and terrifies me and the folks there have been wonderful. No one has judged me, no one has told me I suck or I'm not talented or any of that. They encourage me - it's great! But I also feel like I've never really "broken into" the group either. I still don't feel included, I suppose I'm saying.

And then, a few weeks ago our subgroup has a party. And the "owner" of the main group is also a member of this subgroup - just a member of it though, someone else leads this subgroup. The "owner" says "something came up" and he can't attend the party. I'm disappointed, but I get that. The "owner" is a very busy person and shit does come up for him all the time.

So we're all at the party having a grand ole time ... and somehow the whole thing changes from a party to an impromptu meeting. And the subject appears to be how some folks are thinking that the "owner" isn't a good leader. Parts of this meeting are really good - we needed to do some thinking about our budget for next year and to see if we could do some fundraising or something. We had great discussion around this. But there were these odd moments where everything would shift and grow dark and bitter ... and people told how unhappy they were with the "owner."

I was shocked.

I had NO idea.

None. It was to the point, apparently, that some have thought about leaving the group because the "owner" isn't the kind of leader they understand. He has a legitimate leadership style, but it's one in which the power is NOT vested in one single person, but instead is supposed to be shared among members in various capacities (capacities which are open and transparent, by the way). What he doesn't really do is stand up and say "And now our group is going to do X because I said so."

Ummm, I thought that was a good thing?

I listened. Spoke up now and again. But it seemed like people needed to vent, so I tried to let them do that. They were upset that for the first time ever, the "owner" had not shown up for a group event. They said he was avoiding conflict.

I just had a feeling that he didn't even know there was a real conflict.

And when it was all over, I emailed him and said, "We have to talk."

We did that ... spent two hours telling him everything that I could remember from that gathering/meeting. Not because I'm a tattletale. Not because I thought it would garner any kind of favour.

But because there was a serious problem going on and the people who needed to be talking to each other weren't doing it.

There was no indication at the meeting that anything was said that wouldn't be said to the "owner's" face. There was no indication that this was a closed discussion or that there was any kind of implied privacy or confidentiality.

The "owner" thanked me for having the courage to come forward and let him know what was happening. He'd only heard the vaguest of mutterings and that had only come very recently when apparently this had been going on for quite some time.

He wrote everyone in the subgroup a letter and asked if it was okay if he named me as the one who had come forward. I said it was fine - and it is. If I misspoke or gave him any wrong impressions, the others should know whom to correct. I don't do the crappy behind-the-back shit. That's just cowardly.

A part of me expects that the subgroup might feel betrayed anyway. I knew when I first went to the "owner" that doing so might cost me my membership. So be it. It was the right thing to do. I didn't carry tales - I let there be known what the problems were. I didn't engage in any he said/she said - my memory is not that good.

The owner sent me a copy of the letter before everyone else to make sure that I was still comfortable being named as the one who'd come forward. That what he'd written was a fair interpretation/recounting of what I'd said (inasmuch as it even covered that - really there was only a small section that came from me). And then an invitation for people to please come forward and talk with the owner - to get this worked out.

That sounds like someone who is good at handling conflict to me - not someone who skips a social event because he's avoiding conflict.

Ultimately, I hope this all works out. That all the issues are brought to the forefront and dealt with and we come back in the fall as an even stronger group than we were this year.

But I will never understand why some folks seem to have gone at least a whole year harbouring issues until they festered into wounds and expected the owner to just magically know there was a problem, what the problem was and how to fix it.

And people act like I the alien.

A good Irish name. A name from one of my favourite book series (Katherine Kurtz' Deryni series). The character in the book is a precocious youngster.

Honestly, I fully expected other half to veto it, but she cocked her head to one side and said, "Tieg. I like it. What's it for?" I told her it was Irish and that seemed good. I hesitantly told her it was also the name of one of the characters I like - that is sometimes the kiss of death for animal names around here - but it still seemed fine.

So - he's finally got a name!

Oh yes, that's Scraps in the background, watching over "his" puppy. I will say, though, we managed to keep Scraps from completely obsessing over Tieg and trying to chase everyone away from him as he did with Scout when she was a pup. Scraps seems to have decided that I'm doing a passable job keeping up with him and perhaps he'll allow me to be mommy instead of him. He's not sure, but perhaps so.

Names that have been discussed include: Snickers (too obvious), Scamp (no self-fulfilling prophecies, please - plus he looks nothing like Lady & the Tramp's son).

I liked Joss for Joss Whedon who created the TV show Firefly and the movie Serenity. And since the main characters were once resistance fighters called browncoats, it seemed to fit. If Joss wouldn't work, I'd settle for Nate. (The main character's name is Mal, but the actor is Nathan Fillion ... I'm all about the crazy tangential references.)

Those have both been totally vetoed.

Other half suggested Ghiradelli. Meh. Ghiri for short (gear-ee). Meh.
Another person suggested Scharffenberger with Scharffy for short. The chocolate thing just doesn't really do it for me.

The maybe list - maybe from both of us:
Petey
Pixel
Rascal

I think Hunter might work. We've also kinda played with Camo.

Of course at this point, Daemon, Holy Terror, Dammit What Are You Doing Now, Where'd He Go, Stop That, and Go To Sleep ... these all might work.

I still want a browncoat name, though. Grrr

Pouncer
Cowboy? (We know of another brown doxie named that though)

Oh good grief, he just somersaulted out of a kennel - threw himself with the back legs and forgot the front ones were planted.

Not so much that I can name every bounty hunter in all 6 movies. I don't watch the crappy Clone Wars cartoon (I tried one day ... it reminded me of the last time I tried to watch the Superfriends cartoon. Ridiculously stilted to the point of unwatchable).

I don't actually own a Jedi robe. I have not (yet) built my own lightsaber. And somehow, we haven't gotten around to getting the original movies on DVD yet. (Definitely need the one without Lucas' later crap added on.)

I do, however, read some of the books. I discovered a long time ago that despite how much I absolutely LOATHE Star Trek, the original series, some of the books were actually pretty decent. I really can't watch the show because of Shatner and nothing else. Armed with that knowledge, I started checking some Star Wars books out of the library many moons ago and discovered there were some damn good ones. And, with a "hobby" of reading children's books, I was delighted when they brought out the Young Jedi Knights series - a series for young adults revolving around the next generation of Solo and Skywalker. And, I was terribly impressed with the characterization of Leia's and Han's twins, Jacen and Jaina.

Jaina was quite a lot like her dad - a mechanic, a pilot, into action a bit more than introspective navel-gazing. Jacen was very empathetic, very thoughtful, prone to the most inane and wretched jokes, and he loved animals/creatures of all sorts. The opening of the first book had Han coming to visit his children at the Jedi Academy with flowers for his son and an engine for his daughter. Sure, the flowers were a food for Jacen's pets. Sure it was done quite deliberately to shock readers out of stereotypes.

But they didn't leave it a shock-level thing; it was a one-time "trick." And you quickly realized that it fit the characters perfectly and thought no more of it.

The kids' series was a splendid run and I still enjoy going back and reading them. I quickly branched out into the main storyline of the Star Wars 'verse and discovered that the franchise was perhaps getting even better in the books than the original three movies. The New Jedi Order segment of books was stunning. The Dark Nest, not so much, but it contained some vital information that led into the absolute tour de force that left me reeling in Legacy of the Force. (These "titles," by the way, all cover multiple books. Some are trilogies, some are longer. I think New Jedi Order, which was just an incredibly rich storyline, hit something like 21 books including an e-book novella.)

In a lot of ways, I think the books have now told the basic storyline of the prequel movies far better than Lucas' movies did. In the Legacy of the Force we see a fall to the dark side that makes sense and shows it happening to a character we actually care about ... something Lucas just did not set up well in the prequel movies at all.

I can't remember the last time a series of books hit me as hard as this New Jedi Order and Legacy of the Force runs. The writers, largely because they have the luxury of "space" (not restricted to a 90 minute or 120 minute film) had the time to set up the characters (those who weren't already established) and the time to let things evolve in a natural matter instead of forcing things through in a short period of time. There was no need for "Five Months Later..." or any nonsense like that.

If you enjoy strong characterizations and SciFi, I really recommend these books. And, if you could start out with the kid's Jedi series, it would be even better. If there was one kid to fall to the dark side ... well, I wouldn't have picked this one from the beginning.

The books show how easy it is for the best of us to be seduced by thinking we're doing good and how hard it is to jump off that track once we're on it.

I was exhausted by the time we finally got there - took about an hour and a half to get there after a particularly long and brutal day, so puppy-therapy was just what I needed.

He had his vet visit today and checked out just fine. He's a li'l crybaby when he thinks he's alone, but he and Scraps are playing and having a grand time. Our female doxie, as we suspected, really doesn't have ANY maternal instinct other than to worry if he cries. Otherwise, she's actually scared of him.

I'm sure more pictures and perhaps some video will follow in the weeks to come.

Meanwhile, I still have to finish yesterday's post about Star Wars books .... :)

Except sometimes they actually get it right.

And boy did Taco Bell get this one right. So right, in fact, that 30 seconds was just not long enough. Not being an in-front-of-real-live-people kind of singer, I'll just give you my alternate lyrics with two caveats.
1) It's completely fiction and I was rather thinking of Office Space whilst writing it this evening.
2) The main chorus utilizes most of the Taco Bell commercial's lyrics.

Oh and another thing? I don't actually like piña coladas, either. Like I said, it's fiction.

I'm so tired of this working
I've been at this too long
Like a gear in a clockwork
Of an ancient machine
So while I sorted some widgets
I wrote this song in my head.
Then tonight in the want ads
There was this letter I read:

If you like piña coladas
hate getting stuck in slow lanes
if you're not into meetings
and your boss has no brain
if you hate filling out your time sheets
in the bowels of the basement
Then I'm the cashflow you've looked for
Write to me and make cash

I didn't think about my coworkers
I know that sounds kinda cold
But they're all hacks anyway and
I need to leave behind the same old dull routine
So I wrote out an email
Answered that job posting fast
And though I'm no Twitter expert
I thought it wasn't half bad

Yes I like Piña Coladas
And not getting stuck in slow lanes
I'm not much into meetings
I am ready for phat stacks
I've got to interview after work tonight
And I need insurance fast
Got jacked by O'Malley
And I need Vicodin now

So I waited with high hopes
And the reply hit my inbox
I knew the Subject Line in an instant
I knew the turn of his phrase
It was my Nigerian partner
And he said, "Oh dear friend."
Then we scowled for a moment.
And I said, "You owe me big"

I thought I'd be out of the ratrace
Not getting stuck in slow lanes
No more boring meetings
Finally using my own brain
No more punching out time clocks
And enjoying my time

Selling crap on the eBay
And winning a big lottery...

Well, back in January a dear relative of mine announced his wedding intentions and I instantly volunteered to do the invitations. Click the image to see the invitation itself:

Oh, and it's actually not a Star Trek themed invitation ....