tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43308937657702973632024-03-05T04:54:47.694-08:00Recycle Binflowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.comBlogger33125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-52775796631285460442008-06-25T21:53:00.000-07:002008-06-26T09:59:21.812-07:00Fresno State Baseball has a National ChampionshipMy dad has this tattered briefcase that he keeps in a cabinet in the garage. One day I pored through it and found a bunch of old documents, including his college diploma. Ronald Reagan's signature was at the bottom because he was the governor at the time. After my dad graduated, he joined the military and served during Vietnam. When his service was over, he bought a farm equipment shop with the backing of his uncle Chet.<br /><br />I really value the few stories my dad has shared about his background, and over the last few years he's given me a few odds and ends from his past. I have a wooden lamp and a chime he brought back from West Germany. On my 30th birthday he gave me a gold pocket watch that Chet had recieved on his 60th birthday in 1947...which was also the year my dad was born.<br /><br />Something else that he's kind of given me is Fresno State sports. We've had season tickets to football and basketball games since 1988. I still remember the 1989 year. It encompassed the basic story of Fresno State sports for most people. Fresno State was 10-0 in football. They'd beaten teams 52-22, 52-37, 52-0, 34-7, and most recently, 45-5. They had even moved into the national polls. To wrap up the season, Frenso played a non-conference game against New Mexico. If Frenso won, they would have an undefeated record heading into a post-season bowl. New Mexico was 1-10 on the year, and 3-31 over the past 3 years, including a 68-21 loss to Fresno State the year before. But the unthinkable happened. New Mexico <em>won </em>45-22. Even at 11 years old, I was absolutely sick. Fresno State would beat New Mexico for the next four years, including a 94-17 win two years later, but it didn't matter.<br /><br />I remember the following year as well. Fresno State started the year 5-0, including winning 3 straight games by a combined score of 111-13. People were starting to get excited about a Frenso State team possibly going undefeated. But the following week they lost to a 2-3 Northern Illinois team <strong>73-18! </strong><br /><br />1991 was more of the same. Fresno State was led by Trent Dilfer and won their first 7 games. In those 7 games they'd scored 55, 34, 24, 94, 42, 42, and 48 points. On the following week they lost 20-19 to a Utah State team that was <strong>1-6</strong>! Fresno even went on to score 59, 38, and 31 points in their final 3 games and finished the regular season 10-1. But, it didn't matter. They'd lost when they weren't supposed to.<br /><br />And that's not even to mention the the hype that hasn't been met with performance over their tenure with Pat Hill.<br /><br />In basketball it has been more of the same. I remember watching Ron Adams guide Fresno State to their worst home record (6-9) in the history of Selland Arena...they were 10-19 overall. And thier time with Gary Colson wasn't much better (76-73 over 5 years). Back then the disappointment was each time we played Jerry Tarkanian's UNLV teams so closely before being let down in the second half. In 1988-89 UNLV was 29-8, and Fresno got my hopes up by losing their two games against UNLV by 4 and 6 points. When UNLV won the National Championship the following year, Fresno broke my heart again by losing to UNLV twice, this time by 9 and 5 points!<br /><br />How about softball? How does Jamie Southern finish her career 4th in NCAA history in shutouts, 10th in strikeouts, and 10th in wins, but NEVER make it out of the regional that was held in Fresno each year she was here? I mean, every year she was here she ranked in the top 3 in in the nation in era! She threw 8 no hitters. She was a 4-time All-American, 4-time WAC pitcher of the year, 4-time All-WAC, 4-time Easton Sports All-American, and 4-time All-West Region. Her teams went 177-74...but never got through a damn regional.<br /><br />So tonight was really important. Some people think my enthusiasm over Fresno State is silly. But it's just part of me. I'm glad my dad drove over to the coast to watch the game with me. That's just how it was supposed to be. I'm satisfied. Finally, a Fresno State team hasn't left me disappointed when the game was over. I know there are fair weather fans that will latch on to this an try to bask in the summer sun. But it won't be the same for them. And I know Fresno State's critics will still pick at where Frenso State falls short. But for one night they can be quiet. Fresno State won the national championship in baseball. In one month they won 10 games against top level competition. San Diego, Arizona State, Rice, North Carolina, and Georgia all had a chance to show us it was a fluke. But Fresno State showed that, at least for one month, they had the best baseball team in America.flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-28417618471569824892008-06-12T13:38:00.000-07:002008-06-12T14:10:35.686-07:00Fantasy BaseballBack at the end of March I got stupid and signed up to participate in four fantasy baseball leagues. Two of the leagues were rotisserie leagues, which I'd never participated in before. The other two leagues were head to head leagues, which I performed in respectably in last year. The only other thing worth mentioning concerning the leagues is that one allows for daily changes (for unemployeed college kids), while the other 3 allow only weekly changes.<br /><br />Here's how I'm stacking up after 10 weeks (of 23):<br /><strong>If you don't want to read the details, just know that I'm in 1st (of 10 teams) in two leagues, 2nd in one, and 5th (of 12 teams) in the other.</strong><br /><br />League 1: (Yahoo, Rotisserie with daily transactions...ridiculous)<br /><br />1. HNIC...........106 points (out of 120)<br /><strong>5. Metropolitans 70 points</strong><br />I'm just 14 points out of 2nd place. A poor draft, crippling injuries, and a lack of daily maintenance has me hoping to sneak in and take the silver in this one. I'm very disappointed. I just can't keep up with a league on a daily basis for 6 months, and am in way over my head.<br /><br />League 2: (CBSSportsline, Rotisserie with weekly transactions)<br /><br /><strong>1. Metropolitans3........84.0 points (out of 100)</strong><br />2. ENT...................76.5 <br />3. terps123..............68.5 <br />I actually spent the first 10 weeks with 2 fewer players than everyone else. I had a strong draft, and have filled any gaps I had. I fully expect to run away with this division.<br /><br />League 3: (CBSSportsline, Head to Head with weekly transactions)<br /><br />1. Bonds4President.......8-2........3755.6 points for........2972.8 points allowed<br /><strong>2. MetropolitansII.......6-4........3623.0 points for........3459.3 points allowed</strong><br />In this league I'm actually in first in my division. The best record belongs ot a team in the other division. I anticipate holding on to one of the two playoffs spots for my division, and then luck will decide which team wins two playoff games. My team is possibly the best team, but I've been matched up against opponents who had huge games...as noted in the fact that I've allowed 500 more points than the 8-2 team.<br /><br />League 4: (CBSSportsline, Head to Head with weekly transactions)<br /><br /><strong>1. Metropolitans.......10-0........3880.3 points for........3025.2 points allowed</strong><br />2. Bad Karma............9-1........3549.5 points for........2733.8 points allowed<br />This league has taken most of my attention. I love my roster and I love my luck so far. I've given Bad Karma his only loss, and my point allowed show that I haven't just been fortunate. The only question in this league is whether I'll drop an egg in either of my playoff games.flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-63825596601705733022008-03-24T22:27:00.001-07:002008-03-24T22:27:51.664-07:00lactic acidConversation therapy<br />Your voice prescribed to soothe/<br />Life inhabits arteries with glass so I can’t move/<br />So I stand still…<br />My legs fill dense with lactic acid/<br />Muscles become flaccid bags of weight that make my back sick/<br />Hands cohabit shyly in the solace of my pockets/<br />We calmly talk but mentally I gag my mouth and vomit/<br />Your look seeks me<br />I dodge it/<br />Your touch treats me<br />My pain’s chronic/<br />Fixated<br />I evict your handprints oiled on my skin/<br />Shave my exodermis<br />The breeze draws from me a grin/<br />Imagine how your kisses drench my tissue<br />Shelter breached/<br />See the way my muscles tense because they feel your reach/<br />It’s symmetry how oxygen’s a poison but we need it/<br />Mentally I need your squeeze<br />But constantly you tease itflowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-16580249435129579462008-02-18T12:30:00.000-08:002008-02-18T22:06:11.098-08:00A Short Story<strong>Required Words:</strong> birthday, calligraphy, fireplace, float, fresh, fur, green, magic, picture, scar<br /><br /> For a child, an early bedtime is an effect correlated with some undesired cause. Tonight, however, the most scrupulous abridgment of my actions uncovered no fault on my behalf. As even-handed as my mother was, she had made an oversight concerning my castigation. Through some primordial awareness I knew something was erroneous. Incentive hid where parents forbid my presence. Predisposition led me to one conclusion: daddy was drinking again.<br /><br /> Even before being banished to the confinement of my room, I saw the signs. It was Tuesday, and daddy was on his way home from <strong>Calligraphy</strong> class. Time wasn’t my confidant, though. On occasion I would plead with the clock for the knowledge it shared with adults. There was no spoken dialogue between either party. Mommy or daddy would look intently at the wall adornment in some sort of silent struggle for information. On each occasion the clock would relent, handing over the desired insight. Apparently, with age and awareness I would accrue the capacity to take time from clock. But not tonight. <br /><br /> My evidence was uncomplicated. Mommy had gathered kindling from the back yard and arranged it within the <strong>fireplace</strong>. She was wearing her <strong>birthday</strong> gift: blue sweats with a drawstring waist and a wife-beater. An inch of ribbed fabric draped over her right shoulder. The other fell off of her left arm in a capitulating fashion. <br /><br /> Through the garment her <strong>scar</strong> was palpable. Superlative skin shrouded a psyche withered from misuse. I had never glimpsed it firsthand. No one had that I'm informed of. But mommy kept the <strong>picture</strong> in her purse. <br /><br /> I anticipated each outing to the grocery story because I loved watching mommy write checks. There was even an unwritten, highly revered procedure. To start, she must franticly undress her purse in search of a pen. Subsequently, in a merciful show of leniency, the clerk would bequeath the ballpoint reserved for such emergencies. And finally, my mommy would wield the pen with such authority as to make one question the pen's original proprietor. And then it happened. <br /><br /> My drifting eye observed a small photograph. It was rounded at the edges from years or stress. Time had drained the picture of much of its color. Within the photo stood mommy, unmaimed. Adolescent. Discarded of the weight she now seemed to bear begrudgingly. Next to her was a man unrecognizable to me. Around his neck hung the <strong>fur</strong> of some unknown animal. From the poverty I tasted on a daily basis, I had never encountered a heap of bills so significant. <strong>Fresh green</strong> seemed to spill from his wardrobe. Behind them rested a <strong>float</strong>. At the time of the picture, the float was probably making its way through the crowded downtown streets. But within the boundaries of a photograph, movement was arrested. A Polaroid had flooded the parade with guilt, and all one could do was stand still, cloaked in culpability.<br /><br /> “Paper or plastic?” solicited the clerk, unapologetically.<br /><br /> * * * * *<br /><br /> Subtly I induced my door into a silent opening. From my confinement at the end of the hall, I was only able to pilfer a partial view of clandestine events of which my mother forbade me. And the accolade was without value. Daddy was masked from head to toe in black and white attire. He was going to show mommy his <strong>magic</strong>.flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-43250426527512588212008-02-17T10:05:00.001-08:002009-07-12T12:16:20.133-07:00San DiegoA thousand paths to stamp his fate<br />His words must take one road/<br />A grown man thrown upon the tracks<br />She leaves him weak<br />Unrobed/<br />Unknown to most<br />He’s saved one card<br />One stone cast from the plank/<br />He’ll thank her for the drink they shared<br />The evening that they sank/<br />He hesitates to forfeit her before the scene unfolds/<br />By God<br />This dream won’t end the same<br />He won’t wake up untold/<br />Unrolled<br />The scrolls reveal his will:<br />To tell an honest tale/<br /><br /><br />I gave you what I thought you wanted<br />On this trail I’ve failed/<br />I felt that what composed my being would leave you unamused/<br />Confused<br />I sought to keep what piece the phone gave me of you/<br />Untrue or straight out lying<br />I’d pipe out each expected answer/<br />Regret it?<br />No<br />But know the words I spoke weren't festive banter/<br />I’ve stowed the best (or last at least) to cease our treasured journey/<br />I’ve blurred my notebook with this pen this long to keep you turning/<br />With fury I recited every love that left me squirming/<br />For what it’s worth<br />For you I lit my lines and let rhymes burn me/<br />Finally I’ve found a worthy fate to fall my quill/<br />Failing to elicit youI’ll let my scrawl lie still/<br />Well, bye dear Friend<br />I’m emptied out<br />Now leave me squeezing air/<br />In all my life<br />One night I’ll keep<br />Is when I shared your stare/flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-83534353483053222722008-02-03T12:59:00.001-08:002008-02-03T12:59:26.642-08:00conversations tradedLet your mouth move<br />With words tie their attention/<br />Swiftly cast glance<br />At last our “cat and mouse” commences/<br />Like a pad on pen the friction strips my well of black disgust/<br />I lack the trust to nudge your touch<br />Unjust<br />You brush its dust/<br />Inside I rush to tuck the wind struck hair that masks your cheek/<br />My vivid imagery depicts my hand<br />The skin it seeks/<br />Midreach<br />I reconsider chances bleak<br />If real at all/<br />I stall<br />It dawns we’ve never met<br />Yet in my head we craw-/to any refuge from the structure<br />Expectations<br />Culture’s way/<br />They seek to fold the image that I’ve molded from your clay/<br />For gain or not I’ll toss my inhibitions when I call/<br />When hopes and false pretensions fade<br />I’ll take the thankless walk/<br />The lost (through being inept) gives depth and value to the warfare/<br />Aware we’ve never blended breath<br />Yet still I crave your air/<br />Unfair<br />That every night envelops<br />Till you’re etched on canvas/<br />I curse the land that separates<br />The space that means to span us/<br />Distance and time unhand us<br />These distractions can’t discount/<br />The way I’ve missed your voice<br />The noise it drowns out when it sounds/<br />I recount every conversation traded behind darkness/<br />Daily I discard you<br />Time misused<br />By night we’ve started-/<br />Re embarking on our portion of the play/<br />It weighs on me<br />That any given scene our paths could sway/flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-87874300873415203782007-12-30T21:18:00.000-08:002007-12-30T21:57:40.062-08:00December 31...11:00 A.M.Gosh. Here are Clifton's first 6 punt returns as a Bulldog:<br /><br />Against Rice<br />#1: 67 yards, TD<br />#2: 62 yards (tripped up at the 10)<br />#3: 8 yards<br /><br />Weber State<br />#4: 11 yards<br />#5: 92 yards, TD<br />#6: 86 yards, TD<br /><br />The 3 returns for 189 yards and 2 touchdowns are an NCAA record.<br /><br />Yeah. 6 returns for 326 yards and 3 touchdowns. The very next game he goes and tears his anterior cruciate ligament, lateral collateral ligament and hamstring tendon agaisnt Oregon. <br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/1qMkD0eL37U&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/1qMkD0eL37U&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br /><embed src="http://xml.searchvideo.com/eb/i/2212123564/a/58ef677afb89fc040e3dec6de7dd6c26/p/1&id=anonymous&player=videodetailsembedded&videoAutoPlay=0" allowFullScreen="true" width="425" height="344" bgcolor="#000000" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" ></embed><br /><br /><embed src="http://xml.searchvideo.com/eb/i/2086356604/a/58ef677afb89fc040e3dec6de7dd6c26/p/1&id=anonymous&player=videodetailsembedded&videoAutoPlay=0" allowFullScreen="true" width="425" height="344" bgcolor="#000000" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" ></embed>flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-27344148970690120602007-12-23T17:03:00.000-08:002007-12-23T17:29:06.972-08:00Clifton Smith<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhADUyHcTUfBRA-1Ej2wJ7bvvI4Mi6WEWQ4TDnhfWjNI3EUX0EHI_IFpaiTaxyMAdMuIaLv6s77LjMG_nFDHOcRoLLZdyYQ8Ortga_s-6bsq8_G-Zy9qMgx9-KKy8UpIgDGGNej428OCMo/s1600-h/clifton.1.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhADUyHcTUfBRA-1Ej2wJ7bvvI4Mi6WEWQ4TDnhfWjNI3EUX0EHI_IFpaiTaxyMAdMuIaLv6s77LjMG_nFDHOcRoLLZdyYQ8Ortga_s-6bsq8_G-Zy9qMgx9-KKy8UpIgDGGNej428OCMo/s400/clifton.1.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147342273544638802" /></a><br />We only get one more chance to see Clifton play in a Fresno State jersey. I'm just bummed he came as an academic non-qualifier. I'm even more disappointed that he lost a whole season when he destroyed his knee. He would have had completely ridiculous numbers he hadn't missed so much time. Having a Bakersfield product (Ryan Mathews) come in this year makes it a bit easier to swallow, but I'm going to be really disappointed when he's gone. This is right up there with when Brandon Bakke's career ended with the basketball team.flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-15630933228209642262007-11-13T19:27:00.000-08:002007-11-13T19:35:38.117-08:00New YorkI miss New York. I didn't take very many pictures while I was there. Photographs kind of simplify what you're actually experiencing. Either way. Summer. 2008. Hopefully Johan will be wearing a Mets jersey this time around.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOOOB1YtybCOAouApEUEeBt2whbwWkjsghn-VkmiBwlN98AvuP0NRyD8Rv8Uq-d5t-M4he3KAYWNxzgVerfRBSGz_4tfa9t01nEJezs_hyM73duDmktMO_jRO6kgif7cmLxoH0ZFM-cM/s1600-h/roadtrip+076b.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOOOB1YtybCOAouApEUEeBt2whbwWkjsghn-VkmiBwlN98AvuP0NRyD8Rv8Uq-d5t-M4he3KAYWNxzgVerfRBSGz_4tfa9t01nEJezs_hyM73duDmktMO_jRO6kgif7cmLxoH0ZFM-cM/s400/roadtrip+076b.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132533436716728258" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5unKrui0giC30O6q_eioB9ORyuFSjYSBF7Zn-9NQxJ6A5cllmBgozDeoZCPOm4yTPBmqBtLZCBUemPe7j2YxovQg8_lLPsaveoADe0zTkVGfn_nK5hH_busBKHqMBoIwL-pjmrZ-Q18/s1600-h/roadtrip+075b.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv5unKrui0giC30O6q_eioB9ORyuFSjYSBF7Zn-9NQxJ6A5cllmBgozDeoZCPOm4yTPBmqBtLZCBUemPe7j2YxovQg8_lLPsaveoADe0zTkVGfn_nK5hH_busBKHqMBoIwL-pjmrZ-Q18/s400/roadtrip+075b.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132533316457643954" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLtFLDjj4XC_PkIKIZzaiST09ib6i3x9nrpiD7yKOZiaM0g9Fi2YeCJ6SXaT55hEaLWrWksT89u3eYz007jK76ojxnnXgbHYoew0WFHFHQaxNXczZb5P7I6T53O8WRr2frHCHyWFI1x34/s1600-h/roadtrip+074b.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLtFLDjj4XC_PkIKIZzaiST09ib6i3x9nrpiD7yKOZiaM0g9Fi2YeCJ6SXaT55hEaLWrWksT89u3eYz007jK76ojxnnXgbHYoew0WFHFHQaxNXczZb5P7I6T53O8WRr2frHCHyWFI1x34/s400/roadtrip+074b.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132533170428755874" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOI-kIz2opL9ekx6ASDFOxUj_rcFw_DzyzoAC9pC1lIH9uFB-2Nxwkjoowh5-D6AZntTCKRvZ3TCzleuDouVGsXea8Qh9RO6DMjkNRVxH_wxGaZyjvYKgqAVRdAXVMTjWlFKYAutY6tbw/s1600-h/roadtrip+068b.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOI-kIz2opL9ekx6ASDFOxUj_rcFw_DzyzoAC9pC1lIH9uFB-2Nxwkjoowh5-D6AZntTCKRvZ3TCzleuDouVGsXea8Qh9RO6DMjkNRVxH_wxGaZyjvYKgqAVRdAXVMTjWlFKYAutY6tbw/s400/roadtrip+068b.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132532564838367074" /></a>flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-52189747997685970962007-10-24T22:25:00.000-07:002007-11-20T09:57:53.812-08:00Lost but SearchingImmerse within this verse constructed with a nudge to hush women :)<br />Wishes become dust in inclination to rush contentment<br />Snitches twist intention amid their lives of time wasted<br />Take statements out of transit then insist that I betrayed them<br />Plaintiffs stick to accusations postulating clients' innocence<br />Hypocrites sicken even the most sin-strickened witnesses<br />Sift amid the splintered boat we sculled in summer weather<br />Measure up the weight of gain or loss and toss the lesser<br />Dress your complaints of my conduct just excuse my vomit<br />Honest thoughts on hindsight shine light on the heeding comments<br />God, there’s no logic to the premise of what you argue<br />Charred for the view that my fortress was contoured to discard you<br />Far be it for me to say “See!” when mentioning past sent warnings<br />Ignore me, then drape me with blame after hope commences forming<br />Contort or distort me to the image that best eases hurting<br />Surely I’ll try to find the next chick that thinks I’m lost but searchingflowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-85227281034285679892007-10-21T10:04:00.000-07:002007-10-21T10:13:55.415-07:00Pittsburgh and PhiladelphiaFrom Chicago I drove through Michigan and up into Toronto. Visually, Canada was like nothing I saw throughout the states. But I didn't take any pictures. After driving past Niagara Falls I went to a baseball game in Pittsburgh and my brother met me in Philadelphia. Click on the statue of Washington. It's got a great quote. As far as that goes, go back a few posts and click on the picture of Soldier Field.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb6JqjSsADwd7ynnu63Ws0HpTDLEz4h_936B1511GVqC5HomQJwQ7EQNBoVhALPYOkkBbqGcfIk43FKuLtxonRjwIzvyFTFRX-yjFftujoc8kysjmLPhOoSRgHkv7sIStCRrcD8BaPYCg/s1600-h/roadtrip+062.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123838188006105970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb6JqjSsADwd7ynnu63Ws0HpTDLEz4h_936B1511GVqC5HomQJwQ7EQNBoVhALPYOkkBbqGcfIk43FKuLtxonRjwIzvyFTFRX-yjFftujoc8kysjmLPhOoSRgHkv7sIStCRrcD8BaPYCg/s400/roadtrip+062.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Wo0rOJVtcdpGHU4eH139TOtUCf-po9GeOc67JIO1jr_GN1piYtSFpO10Kch4eEhhvV3nKryDuUFWPHcWh0rncAnBoCFiJzg4ss9mYe1Ah7BtO6f7Le9S012eFGBUMVWQ4kR-241dAw0/s1600-h/roadtrip+064b.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123838188006105986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9Wo0rOJVtcdpGHU4eH139TOtUCf-po9GeOc67JIO1jr_GN1piYtSFpO10Kch4eEhhvV3nKryDuUFWPHcWh0rncAnBoCFiJzg4ss9mYe1Ah7BtO6f7Le9S012eFGBUMVWQ4kR-241dAw0/s400/roadtrip+064b.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxJrwD4c7W23FgdDrf_T8kF2rs85yI9E4qry0Hf0pqRgd6XqcTKPu5mzGXKLsThmnBZSIxGWu7N5wzisgoXfVmMGurqFjX9GVAIhYW_9h6gAJlqiA2YuvhaR_PnWZJB2JkkKm8sDs3FNU/s1600-h/roadtrip+066b.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123838192301073298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxJrwD4c7W23FgdDrf_T8kF2rs85yI9E4qry0Hf0pqRgd6XqcTKPu5mzGXKLsThmnBZSIxGWu7N5wzisgoXfVmMGurqFjX9GVAIhYW_9h6gAJlqiA2YuvhaR_PnWZJB2JkkKm8sDs3FNU/s400/roadtrip+066b.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-77470492097277354902007-10-18T22:31:00.000-07:002007-10-18T22:42:57.260-07:00each rhyme that she tookSawdust blown away<br />Wood shavings brushed aside display/<br />A well designed<br />Defiled shell of failure in a play/<br />In vain he searched for characters to trade his scripted part/<br />Depicted part of what he was so far<br />She numbly ripped his heart/<br />Retarded sense of context<br />He dissected each encounter/<br />Bound each prospect with potential<br />Built a fence around her/<br /><br />It used to be effortless<br />Stressed syllables matched without pressure/<br />Sounds aligned without measure/<br />Pleasure was expressing a thought<br />Not substituting for a lesser word with a better flow/<br />Nor throwing out a token that would let her know/<br /><br />Stoop within the gutter<br />Prod the vagrant's vacant book<br />Look at when she left his life and each rhyme that she took<br />She shook the being she was to fit his neatly inked desires<br />He'd write to grasp her shadow though he lacked the words required<br />So on they danced their "cat and mouse" till one of two things happened<br /><strong>He ran his heart of ink or she just couldn’t read and vanished</strong>flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-29658818944850032752007-10-14T08:34:00.000-07:002007-10-14T08:44:33.536-07:00Niagara FallsYup.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrtuvZoNZYj5rxAWvzFEfVffyoDCqwprn-KsRlFrppmR4KY06aB1DCCxSlliwVNqhgo-48WLf1HNGyQVtShmoMZmf9Z1oyKgNQbdGPrRwFVTrX2PTxhc__zVUpZTiKk2Ba-GKT-r1tC0/s1600-h/roadtrip+059b.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121216522788758370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrtuvZoNZYj5rxAWvzFEfVffyoDCqwprn-KsRlFrppmR4KY06aB1DCCxSlliwVNqhgo-48WLf1HNGyQVtShmoMZmf9Z1oyKgNQbdGPrRwFVTrX2PTxhc__zVUpZTiKk2Ba-GKT-r1tC0/s400/roadtrip+059b.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-24349014203785965022007-10-11T23:33:00.000-07:002009-07-12T12:15:22.906-07:00BlandA different day<br />Syndication of the issue/<br />With pen disseminate<br />The way I hate the time I’m with you/<br />I can’t get through each reunion<br />Because on cue our time elapses/<br />Panicked<br />Clasp the clock around the neck until it passes/<br />Unhand it<br />Wrap my ears around your voice as it splits air/<br />Neglect to share your scent on days the breeze hints of your hair/<br />Unfair<br />The way the winds of autumn tease me with your fragrance/<br />Days spent in your absence leave me waning with the vagrants/<br />Aimless<br />I see out our moments<br />Hold them in my thinking/<br />Squeeze out every second known but let me keep your breathing/<br />Breach my scenery<br />Bleach each image etched upon my mind/<br />Please leave alone your visage<br />Render lens and iris blind/<br />Grind away my skin and nerves<br />Disperse my sense of touch/<br />Just let me tuck away the flood of blood when our arms brush/<br />Suck away each flavor savored<br />Sweet and sour flip/<br />Everything deemed bland<br />Against your taste upon my lips/flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-35849143107509421952007-10-11T20:55:00.000-07:002007-10-14T12:21:14.183-07:00Soldier FieldI've been to several sports stadiums. Most recently there was Shea. I grew up seeing old videos of my mets winning the world series in 1969, and more recently, 1986. On a much smaller scale, the stadium is also remembered for hosting the beatles. I've also been to Texas stadium to see the Cowboys and Broncos on Thanksgiving Day. For me, those experiences were both epic. But just walking around Soldier Stadium and seeing the plaques dedicated to our armed forces was incredible on a totally different level.<br /><br /><br />Plus, I got a Bernard Berrian bobblehead in the team store.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPxBJVv_qPxEC3bh_rjNWUhSyDWatUyqDvKvt_1WygxTTYjwKXZOVMBm-lp6q_WubTjr9v8oi2cWd25aCXn-6ppn0XKGV3ZDKyBtZLZ3y_9vkJLVjcouAADS1ZiunGcCG6F-Rqg03LnOo/s1600-h/roadtrip+050b.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120294384720372562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPxBJVv_qPxEC3bh_rjNWUhSyDWatUyqDvKvt_1WygxTTYjwKXZOVMBm-lp6q_WubTjr9v8oi2cWd25aCXn-6ppn0XKGV3ZDKyBtZLZ3y_9vkJLVjcouAADS1ZiunGcCG6F-Rqg03LnOo/s400/roadtrip+050b.JPG" border="0" /></a>flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-31648445944816996752007-10-10T21:34:00.000-07:002007-10-10T21:38:08.384-07:00Frick Museum in ChicagoI love dinosaurs. Seeing them at the museum was definitely a highlight of the trip. I should say "museums." I saw dinosaurs in museums in Denver, Chicago, Pittsburgh, and a small town in Utah. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeWzW0Fdigx1V_l2mAf3q7E9SiMrGUIe9E-DPpXg0_azaOW0Tf0HW2ROgv2RMZwg1Mkhs1VYi_7UFxaxP_qAixhtUk2GlhLzTZWMZ49Go4WADo9Y2dwLmll7EB_8g4nM9lgGLdsr_ptI/s1600-h/roadtrip+046b.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeWzW0Fdigx1V_l2mAf3q7E9SiMrGUIe9E-DPpXg0_azaOW0Tf0HW2ROgv2RMZwg1Mkhs1VYi_7UFxaxP_qAixhtUk2GlhLzTZWMZ49Go4WADo9Y2dwLmll7EB_8g4nM9lgGLdsr_ptI/s400/roadtrip+046b.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119933328294634306" /></a>flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-14149814023278358712007-10-09T21:00:00.000-07:002007-10-09T21:10:43.125-07:00Denver SkylineAt least part of the Denver skyline. I took it from inside a museum just after watching a a fossilized stegosaurus helplessly defend her infant children from a relatively small predator. probably. More pictures to come.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9XRT58-ZrE0eU8f6fILCLoxrIH8rWJicnvdgoWmyd66SfRym5KvPO_f4Sch7bREZHzUHW1h_N1rWFiCneVeZncrbKN5v5gQ3fqHt9K3ecs0v4qeLwEpla_BmhrlxkTmYtocL_m6ioTEU/s1600-h/roadtrip+044b.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119554044027691810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9XRT58-ZrE0eU8f6fILCLoxrIH8rWJicnvdgoWmyd66SfRym5KvPO_f4Sch7bREZHzUHW1h_N1rWFiCneVeZncrbKN5v5gQ3fqHt9K3ecs0v4qeLwEpla_BmhrlxkTmYtocL_m6ioTEU/s400/roadtrip+044b.JPG" border="0" /></a>flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-78432578439808402542007-10-08T22:59:00.000-07:002007-10-08T23:08:48.247-07:00Colorado RockiesMy truck wants to go back here.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6iBEQuM_zMldDw-lIFmRb2d-xLeSBDVQCG54EBdF65MMdtKY6gicMnnJ5qqtr5tZufzBMv2wTrwBCwe8qvhKpXotyz230Erx3Sv1bBL-k1cmG1Rvpr7EN9uKud8EczRXBk4WmivkdrI/s1600-h/roadtrip+089b.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6iBEQuM_zMldDw-lIFmRb2d-xLeSBDVQCG54EBdF65MMdtKY6gicMnnJ5qqtr5tZufzBMv2wTrwBCwe8qvhKpXotyz230Erx3Sv1bBL-k1cmG1Rvpr7EN9uKud8EczRXBk4WmivkdrI/s400/roadtrip+089b.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119214896230130450" /></a>flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-54141565608372439122007-10-07T22:50:00.000-07:002007-10-11T23:57:01.729-07:00Lackluster Rhyming; Ear SlavesWishes becoming mist<br />In an era remiss of innocence<br />Missing<br />Or envisioning<br />A kiss on the tips of lips<br />Mimicking an eclipse of mythical visions<br />Or depictions<br />Figments<br />Fragmented actions<br />Fractured by the lack of time<br />Or timing<br />Mimes chime in with their reenactment<br />An artistic recant of lackluster rhyming<br /><br /><br />Peeling off gauze<br />Pause<br />Cough up embalming fluid/<br />Grab a cup<br />Turn it up<br />Relax to this calming music<br />Breath grazes vocal cords<br />Vibrations bend air waves/<br />Mouth facilitates thoughts<br />Caught<br />Now you’re my ear slaves/<br />Hypocrisy:<br />Me trying to appease you<br />Yet I’m bound by my pen/<br />Tied down by flesh<br />Meshed with a hunger to sin/<br />Lend an open mind<br />I’m confined to the ink and its well/<br />I wield the pen<br />Yet it manipulates me when it spills/<br />Filled with black confessions<br />Guilt lessons with faults discovered/<br />Amazing what a “Christian” exposes when the vaults uncovered/flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-67966014202841968892007-10-07T20:33:00.000-07:002007-10-07T21:25:42.356-07:00Masai Warriors<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWDpm0yTmpLGmRC4WBjmJ4gIijXN3CY5ipPrbQr3woNVWerN4rnvaPZUN51odU7e9zFNPcDBMkapl2C7AtE8AB_IQncb7Zt2DM9baFmSfClu2aACCw64XbAi-xqG0frABqlU0QYIjLIy8/s1600-h/kenya+africans.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118805358213554866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWDpm0yTmpLGmRC4WBjmJ4gIijXN3CY5ipPrbQr3woNVWerN4rnvaPZUN51odU7e9zFNPcDBMkapl2C7AtE8AB_IQncb7Zt2DM9baFmSfClu2aACCw64XbAi-xqG0frABqlU0QYIjLIy8/s400/kenya+africans.JPG" border="0" /></a> I'm mulling over next summer's trip. Or maybe even a trip before then. I thought I'd do two things. Recap. And then look for some inspiration.<br />Here are some "masai warriors." Notice the watch the one on the left is wearing. Hard core.<br /><div><br /><br /><div></div></div>flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-39549929823172962982007-10-06T12:50:00.000-07:002007-10-06T12:59:40.637-07:00African ElephantsA picture taken while on a safari in the masai mara (southern Kenya), and one I drew. Can you tell the difference?<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8jUisAkG50od4y80vG9wsurLyewSCjA_rWff-glaC3VYbXuWdsx92pFJlLmpfVOIaGhU7jpCVm_qrsM9iCS-eCR64mymxa9HliyPSGgaTdnqeoF2i_tKmQL3pPproAQLUU0K0m572fI/s1600-h/kenya+088.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118314138508944018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8jUisAkG50od4y80vG9wsurLyewSCjA_rWff-glaC3VYbXuWdsx92pFJlLmpfVOIaGhU7jpCVm_qrsM9iCS-eCR64mymxa9HliyPSGgaTdnqeoF2i_tKmQL3pPproAQLUU0K0m572fI/s400/kenya+088.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkXm7bQAKedqPZiW0uytyuriJW8KRkwC_mxc3M_DrdKRTHMUVI6E6fhVdvq3PTEwrNyOD5PR80eyylaiVd8u9ZmzJe6u6Ey4KobkBU3tNpjzwi5mG7Mh7UeDpYRJT4w03cJPzLWHWKTv4/s1600-h/elephant.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118313747666920066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkXm7bQAKedqPZiW0uytyuriJW8KRkwC_mxc3M_DrdKRTHMUVI6E6fhVdvq3PTEwrNyOD5PR80eyylaiVd8u9ZmzJe6u6Ey4KobkBU3tNpjzwi5mG7Mh7UeDpYRJT4w03cJPzLWHWKTv4/s400/elephant.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Me either.flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-5746399467752226582007-10-01T21:40:00.000-07:002007-10-27T15:51:34.989-07:00Cue the Music; Blanket Seams<p>Too many days I’ve raped this dictionary<br />Tearing Webster’s hymen<br />High pitch rhymes get violent<br />Ripping thighs and stitching them from abdomen to spine. Then-<br />Let them mend to hear you cry when spinning lines that might split<br />Gripping on the hemmed up seam to see your lumbar vertebrae<br />How they shake when words escape<br />Draping down your tongue and mouth and placed upon my dinner plate<br />Taken from your lungs to stuff my ego when our winter drapes<br />Racing sirens light the pavement’s paint in wasted haste to save you<br />Patients wait<br />They hate you<br />Scrape your place from memory to clean a lane to wade through<br />Thank you<br />But I can’t do it<br />To take our time and write it out would waste my day<br />So screw it<br />This avenue has brewed my fumes<br />I’m through<br />So cue the music<br /><br />Our bond takes form in text<br />Perplexed you feel confined<br />Restricted minds decide a love is bound by page and rhyme/<br />A different frame of sight will find your grace when seen by me/<br />Can blind the eye of countless men when penned for all to read/<br />Air seeps from lungs with every passing touch your hands impart/<br />When love is acted out it’s seen as porn<br />In words it’s art/<br />In darkness all the boundaries of my flesh can find their peace/<br />The sweetness of your skin<br />The scent of limbs within my reach/<br />The morning blink of waking time displays frayed blanket seams/<br />Each written verse that beats your drum becomes a faded dream/<br />Blatant empty sheets think of your face and turn to laugh/<br />Mapping all your attributes<br />The tune<br />On them<br />Falls flat/<br />Grasping to the mattress for a remnant of our night/<br />Like all my other days this one is barren<br />Stripped by light/</p>flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-38982452650115501232007-09-30T08:35:00.000-07:002007-09-30T08:37:47.432-07:00<a href="http://a606.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/34/l_049d47727f70e0e30f0c57c8c73a0fa5.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a606.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/34/l_049d47727f70e0e30f0c57c8c73a0fa5.jpg" border="0" /></a>flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-52122857466927738252007-09-30T08:29:00.000-07:002007-09-30T17:56:39.131-07:00<a href="http://a370.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/50/l_7ac9aeb77c15f65f88ef1aeff3a9fa89.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://a370.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/50/l_7ac9aeb77c15f65f88ef1aeff3a9fa89.jpg" border="0" /></a>flowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4330893765770297363.post-86541541725782368332007-09-28T22:44:00.000-07:002007-09-28T22:54:48.707-07:00fairest thoughsDespite the drive within your spine to let your spite define us<br />Defend the times our minds entwined and let them splice inside us<br />I tried to let our lips convince my system that we’re victims<br />Minions of some twisted script that God thought not to mention<br />He opted for His altered scheme to take my seed and toss it<br />Every vein within my being was drawn to plot with logic<br />I’ve conjured every way to take our chance and dash its flame<br />To sand away the ways I’ve dropped your odds would shame your name<br />All games unplayed and truth explained I lack the love to act<br />Indeed, to grasp ego and stroke would choke our recent past<br />Please seep between the letter’s words and drink the bleeding hope<br />Although the paper’s dressed with ink it left me needing clothes<br />I’m hopeful that my naked skin will heat your mind when cold<br />Conveying the way I hold you up is better felt than told<br />Fools would see the fence and let it taint the ground their lawn's on<br />Hold to what we’ve shared<br />In time the fairest thoughts get drawn onflowgunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08707648375145914579noreply@blogger.com0