Chapter 42.4: Back to Normal

There’s nothing comfortable about a wet butt. I was reminded of that messy lesson this morning when I carelessly sat in a puddle on the PATH train. Hopefully, that won’t be the metaphor of the day. After the train arrived in New York, I tried to act appropriately disconnected to the world as I walked up the stairs to 6th Avenue. No one tapped me on the shoulder to say, “Hey mister, your ass is wet.” And for that I’m thankful, though I never would deign to say something similar to another person in the same circumstances. There but for the grace of God …

My point in discussing that embarrassing moment is to say that New York is back to being New York. The busses and trains are back at work; as far as the strike is concerned, it’s all over but for the signing and the recriminations against leadership. My walk over the final couple of blocks included few belching busses, an abundance of taxis, and a carpenter’s union picketing a job site on 15th Street. They’ve been there as long as I’ve been working in New York, and now that the MTA strike is over, I’m starting to wonder what their point is. All part of life in the big city, I suppose.

Chapter 42.1: MTA Strike, Day 2

I can feel it. People are already getting pissed. Feeling pressured. The strike has moved into its second full day, and the NJ trains are fuller than they were the day before, when they were already up about 10 percent. People stood in the aisle today on a train that left a little its station a little after 7 am -- not yet the busiest train. The PATH train was even busier, and for the first time I saw people walking down the PATH stairs at 14th Street -- New Yorkers who didn’t want to brave the cold to walk the 20 blocks up to 34th Street (or were they looking for 23rd?)

With Christmas bearing down upon us, I think any sympathy toward the workers will be gone by tomorrow. The strike will need to break today. The days of guaranteed pensions are behind us, unfortunately, and with the demise of Medicaid and Medicare not too far off in the future, we may find ourselves fighting more for the poor and destitute who didn’t know or weren’t able to save for the future. I’m not saying this strike will cause the destruction of the American retirement system. I’m saying it may expose other problems.

Chapter 42: MTA Strike

The city is much calmer without busses. I expected the NJ Transit train to be packed with people, perhaps to the point where I couldn’t find a seat. While there were a few more people than usual, the train ran without event, like any other day.

But this isn’t quite like other days. New York City is not quite as bustling as it was yesterday, and no one knows what sounds we’ll hear tomorrow. Will there be an agreement, or will hundreds of industries be affected by the decision to strike? I’m not informed enough about the union’s position on pensions to hazard a guess. I’m all for people standing up for what they believe is right as they struggle to survive during a difficult economy. But this morning, before the work day really starts to move, I’m enjoying the solitude.

Chapter 41.7: Simmering Hot Stove

I’m pleased with what Omar Minaya has accomplished already this off-season. I’m fine with the Paul LoDuca acquisition, though I’d like to know who he actually gave up for him. I’ve heard mixed reports on the kid pitcher that’s reportedly in the deal, and I’ve heard nothing about who the other player is. LoDuca has skills that should work well with the staff. His throwing isn’t much better than Piazza’s was, but he probably won’t bounce as many balls into the outfield or off the infield grass (though I don’t really know that, and he had a mediocre to poor fielding percentage).

Perhaps the Mets will be able to use Castro enough that whatever funk LoDuca goes into after the all-star break (.191 average in September last year) can be off-set. I’m assuming he gets tired. Might not be the problem.

This pitching staff is not final, though, as the recent rumors of Kris Benson moving on to Kansas City (a.k.a. baseball purgatory) suggest. One name I’m not hearing much this winter is Aaron Heilman. I was impressed with his second half last year – especially for the reactions batters had. They hated facing him. I hope Omar keeps this guy. Starter, set-up man. Whatever he’s doing, he’s going to be an important part of the staff.

On another note: Good luck, John Olerud. Not a bad career for a guy who kept his helmet on.

Chapter 41.5: Yes, Please, I’d Like Some More

Quickly, before I hit the sack: Delgado and Wagner? Yes, nicely done Omar et al. Now we need a catcher. I can even tolerate having Kaz Matsui start the season at second, though it’s not my preference. But we need a catcher. Ramon Castro is not the full-time answer.

Chapter 41.4: Exposing My Ignorance

Ok, there’s lots of ignorance to expose, I admit. This particular example is in regard to my appalling lack of understanding of ancient Roman history. I’ve been watching the HBO series “Rome” and have enjoyed it for the most part. It’s not “Six Feet Under” or “The Sopranos” in terms of the writing or the acting, but enjoyable nonetheless, despite some incredibly gory moments. (The fight scene from last week was perhaps the most grisly television fight I’ve ever seen.)

My point in bringing this up at all is I spent the entire season anticipating the murder of Julius Caesar. And it arrived without much premonition; there was no “Beware the Ides of March” announcement. It passed without a word between Brutus and Caesar at that crucial final moment; no spoken “Et tu, Brute.” Yet, the phrase “Thus always to tyrants,” the same words spoken in Latin by John Wilkes Booth after he shot Abraham Lincoln, arose from the Senate floor after Caesar died. I suspect I’ve been lulled into false knowledge – that perhaps those scenes were created by William Shakespeare rather than drawn from Roman historians. I do not know; perhaps I’ll read more about it.

One other point: after the dismembering and decapitations from the previous episode, the stabbings by the senators upon the body of Caesar looked more like bee stings in comparison. Deadly ones, I’ll grant (and some laudable Foley artistry throughout the series, I might add), but I found the contrast quite interesting. Overall, not quite the death or the drama I expected, but I don’t feel I completely wasted my Sunday evenings for the past three months.

Chapter 41.3: Wrong Again

As usual, my ruminations on things political have turned out to be incorrect. Even though Mr. Alito, the recent Supreme Court Justice nominee, is from New Jersey, I know nothing about him beyond what I've read in the news. To add my one-cent worth, however, if I had to make a worthless prediction, I'd say he'll get approved by the Senate. He's got a history and the Republicans have a majority. Of course, there has been some controversy about whether he's conservative enough for some in the GOP, but short of some discovery of malfeasance, I doubt he has much to worry about, no matter how loud his opponents become.

I'm more intrigued by the Senate rule imbroglio, when Minority Leader Reid invoked "Rule 21" and brought about a closed-door session to discuss why an investigation by the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence (chaired by Sen. Pat Roberts, R-Kansas) has not moved to "Phase Two" of a report on the use and abuse of Iraq WMD intelligence before the war. The second phase reportedly was to focus more specifically on those in the White House and close to the President and whether that WMD intelligence may have been misused. Reid's move could be viewed as a political stunt, to be sure, but hopefully there's more to it than that, because if it was only a stunt then that's a lot of rancor to create over a ploy.

The White House may have wanted the focus to shift away from the Plame Leak issue (associated with the WMD discussion), but Reid's move effectively brought the discussion of Scooter Libby and Karl Rove back into the media's focus and away from Judge Alito. Now that Alito's hearing has been scheduled for early January, I suspect we'll continue to hear more speculation about Rove and Libby and possibly even Vice President Cheney. Merry Christmas, everyone.

Chapter 41.2: Who’s Next?

Ok, now that Harriet Miers has withdrawn from consideration for the Supreme Court of the United States, is there reason to presume that Attorney General Alberto Gonzales is next to be nominated? It would be a significant nomination, as he'd be the first Hispanic on the court if confirmed by the Senate. But I seem to recall conservatives saying they were concerned about some of his decisions when he sat on the Texas Supreme Court. To me, what the Miers nomination has accomplished is to expose the dichotomy within the Republican party for all: conservatives are different than your random Republican.

Chapter 41.2: Who's Next?

Ok, now that Harriet Miers has withdrawn from consideration for the Supreme Court of the United States, is there reason to presume that Attorney General Alberto Gonzales is next to be nominated? It would be a significant nomination, as he'd be the first Hispanic on the court if confirmed by the Senate. But I seem to recall conservatives saying they were concerned about some of his decisions when he sat on the Texas Supreme Court. To me, what the Miers nomination has accomplished is exposed the dichotomy within the Republican party for all: conservatives are different than your random Republican.

Chapter 41: It Is So, Joe! Cubs in 2006?

After 88 years, the city of Chicago can finally claim itself a city of baseball champions. The White Sox have won – convincingly. Though they had their share of breaks throughout the post-season, their eight straight wins in the ALCS and the World Series were impressive (A.J. Pierzynski’s third-strike scamper to first base aside, and that’s the umpires’ fault more than the player’s).

The Astros were an excellent club, and despite their age, I think they’re still worthy of consideration next year (provided that Clemens returns to form – a big if at his age and given his potential to retire).

I thought Joe Crede was going to be the MVP, but Jermaine Dye had a good series too, but I won’t argue against Jermaine Dye.

For next year, I can’t help but wonder if the baseball gods are helping the chronically underachieving. First the Red Sox (only 86 years), then the White Sox (88). Next year the Cubs (which would be 98 years)? Other than those teams that have never won, I believe the Cubs are the longest-suffering. And other than the Montreal Expos, who no longer exist per se, the Astros, Padres, Brewers, Washington Nationals (the former Expos) and Devil Rays still have many years of frustration to go before challenging the Cubs for futility.

Congratulations to the White Sox!

Chapter 40.8: A World Series for Baseball Fans

Wow, that was great baseball! I didn’t get a single one of my predictions correct in the championship series – correction, I predicted the NLCS would go six games, but I got the winner wrong, so it’s a moot point.

The Albert Pujols homer will fade into a pleasant memory for Cardinals fans, a step or two below what the Carlton Fisk homer in the ’75 Series means for Red Sox fans. The four complete games in the ALCS will be an interesting bit of trivia, but hardly important UNLESS it affects the Sox bullpen in the series. Are they well rested? Are they too rusty?

Bullpens will be interesting to watch in this series, because while both teams have decent pens, they also have excellent starters. I suspect we’re going to see a bunch of 2-0, 3-1 scores, maybe a 4-3 game. But I don’t expect either team to have an offensive explosion. It will come down to matchups and probably a bit of good fortune (or ill fortune, depending on who you root for).

I like the Sox starting four a hair more than the Astros’ staff, but you can’t overlook the experience level of Andy Pettitte and Roger Clemens. These guys will not be shaken by the stepped-up level of play. With Clemens available twice to start and potentially an exciting relief appearance a la Randy Johnson in 2001, the Astros have a strong hand available to them. Pettitte is one of the all-time greats in pressure post-season games; he should have two starts. And in a game seven it’s all hands on deck.

The White Sox have El Duque. I’ve been impressed by his unflappable presence in the post-season over the years, but I don’t expect him to be a huge factor in the series. I could be wrong. Jose Contreras has pitched well of late, and I think he’s proven himself this season. Freddy Garcia could be the X-factor. A Garcia/Brendan Backe matchup favors the White Sox.

My prediction: White Sox in six.

Chapter 40.75: Championship Series

Astros vs. Cardinals: Well, some surprises, but it’s not as though the Padres won. As I (and probably every other baseball fan outside of San Diego) predicted, the Cardinals swept into the NLCS and will face the Astros. This should be quite a series, but after the 18 inning game, I wonder whether there’ll be any residual effect on the Houston pitching staff. The Cardinals were the better team throughout the season, so I believe they’ll come through again, but it should be an excellent series. My prediction: Cardinals in 6.

Angels vs. White Sox. The White Sox won their first post-season series since 1917. That’s nice. Enjoy it, Sox, because while I’m rooting for you, I don’t think you’ll be able to top the Angels. It’s not because they beat the Yankees, because I think the Bombers were ready to fall – didn’t have the horses this year, or rather too many of their horses are heading to the glue factory. (Yes, I predicted the Yankees would win, but I don’t think I minimized the abilities of the Angels) No, the Angels are a quality team. They have hitting and pitching. Their concern, now, however, is whether Bartolo Colon is able to return. I’ve not read anything yet, so I don’t know how serious the injury is. But that uncertainty is the reason I’m making this series as close as I think it’ll be. Angels in 6.

Just looking back at my predictions: I did better with the National League, where my outcomes were exactly accurate in terms of who and how many games it’d take. I think my prediction of the Astros/Braves series being exciting was fairly prescient too, though I certainly couldn’t have expected the thriller to close it out. I was not surprised the White Sox won – well, ok, I’m a little surprised – but I was amazed that they swept past the World Series champions. Who knows, perhaps we’ll wipe out another curse this year. And in 2006 it’s time to slay the billy goat.

Chapter 40.7: The Playoffs

I don’t have time to do a thorough analysis, so this is my best-guess, seat of the pants version. But I’ll make predictions, so when I fall flat on my face with them I’ll take the lumps.

ALDS:
Red Sox vs. White Sox: To me, this is the most interesting series. It’s got history without having much history. That is, the Red Sox have a long-standing history of frustration, which they finally shed through their championship last year. The White Sox are now in their 88th year since winning a World Series, so they’re an even more frustrated franchise. (We won’t even go into the Northsiders of Chicago.)

The White Sox have done well with their pitching, and their hitting is more potent than most fans seem to realize. But I didn’t like the way they faded and almost lost their place to the Indians. The Red Sox are not as good as they were last year. The pitching’s not as formidable, though they can hit with anyone. My prediction: Red Sox in five.

Yankees vs. Angels: Perhaps history can repeat itself as the team with the most annoying name in sports (the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim – or whatever they call themselves) find themselves hosting the storied Yankees, whom they defeated in the ALDS in 2002 in route to their only World Series championship. The Yankees struggled to get into the playoffs this year and weren’t able to set their rotation the way they’d have liked. The Angels were the first AL team to clinch a playoff berth and have their rotation exactly where they want it.

But the Yankees always seem to come through. I hate them, but they can’t be trifled with. Their offense has incredible strike capabilities – both in the ability to strike out in the clutch and the ability to explode for multiple runs. The Angels, with Chone Figgins leading the way to Vlad the Impaler, have what I view as an 80s style offense – speed and enough power to make pitchers nervous. And it works. This should be a hard-fought series. Yankees in five.

NLDS:
Padres vs. Cardinals: The Phillies would have been a better bet against the Cardinals than the Padres. While as a Mets fan I appreciate the little guys getting into the playoffs with a record just a scratch above .500 (a la, the 1973 Mets, who should have won that World Series), but they just can’t compete with the Cardinals. I think Bruce Bochy has done a great job just to get this team to the playoffs, but that’s it for 2005. Cardinals in three.

Astros vs. Braves: Wow, this should be fun! The pitching-rich Astros don’t have the offense they had in 2004 and it’s not just because Carlos Beltran was walking around Shea Stadium this season. The Braves just keep finding ways to win the regular season.

But can they do it in the post-season? I think not. While I’m more impressed with Bobby Cox and pitching coach savant Leo Mazzone year after year, I think this year will end similarly for the belles of the NL East. Astros in four.

Chapter 40.6: Wasting Time

I haven't posted in a while, so for the sake of continuity I thought I'd pass along some random comments that will likely mean nothing to anyone.

I'm ready for baseball's post season, but I don't have any emotional investment in the teams that are likely to be playing. Even the Red Sox, who were a natural team to root for as a Yankee-hater, don't bring out the same urgency since they won last year. And they're not even definitely in the post-season.

I suppose if the White Sox make it I'll root for them, as it's been many decades since they've won a World Series. But they've collapsed and limped into a possible post-season spot. If nothing else, the series between them and the Cleveland Indians should be exciting (if it's still a contest), and the Yankees-Red Sox series the same weekend should be full of juice as well. Perhaps the current San Diego Padres/San Francisco Giants series will strike up enough tension, but it's hard to root for whichever team would win the division with a less than .500 record. What a sorry state of affairs that is.

I hope to write up my own predictions of the playoffs this weekend.

Now that fall has arrived, I'm enjoying the weather as I can. The commute means I'm getting home in much the same sunlight as when I left in the morning. I might get to jog once or twice a week on the weekends. Somehow, that doesn't matter as much this year as it has in the past. Once the November days arrive I'll turn my thoughts to preparing for 2006. With a new job and a new outlook, I believe I can really make plans: for the novel and for its successors; for a vacation; for anything that comes along.

Chapter 40.4: Changing Seasons

The Mets are done. This is not a dramatic revelation, especially after they were swept at home by the Washington Nationals. My only interests at this stage are that they finish above .500 and that the Mets fans continue to show respect for Mike Piazza, who is likely playing his final games as a Met. Some guy calling into WFAN a few months back I thought made an excellent point. He said the Mets have not done very well in showing their appreciation for their falling stars. Keith Hernandez and Gary Carter kept playing for a year or more after they left the Mets, and not much was done to thank them for their contributions. I don't honestly remember much of their waning days with the Mets; I was still in college and unable to see many games. But the management seemed to just let them leave. They'll likely do the same for Piazza. I think it's reasonable to think he'll find a job as a designated hitter for some AL team next year, which would make it harder for the team to do something -- but not impossible. Heck, I believe Harold Baines had his number retired by the White Sox and he continued to play for another decade -- including returning to the Sox.

I don't expect the Mets to do that, not now. They may eventually retire his number, but I don't expect it to happen in the next three weeks.

I have no answer. I think that it's enough for now that the fans keep cheering Piazza's accomplishments and let him know what he's meant to the club these past several years. He may not have thrown out many runners but he clubbed a lot of homers and was at the center of a lot of happy memories for Mets fans. He brought credibility to the Mets of the late 90s and was a real threat in the lineup for several years. His hey day is behind him, but he's a hall of famer. Good luck, Mike.

Chapter 40.2: Remember

Apparently I needed to well up today. I turned on the television this morning and watched the coverage of the anniversary at Ground Zero. I couldn't help but watch and wonder whether I'd have had the strength to go up and read names if I'd been one of the siblings of the fallen. My family members who were there that day survived, thank God. I will hold this day sacrosanct, however, for many others were not so fortunate.

That said, I believe that the tragedy that befell the Gulf Coast will have more long-standing physical and financial impact on our nation. Hurricane Katrina wiped out large portions of towns that must now be rebuilt -- not just New Orleans. And it had direct impact on people in terms of evacuation if not actually death than what occurred in New York, Washington, D.C., and the field in Pennsylvania four years ago today. Should there be a distinction between a natural catastrophe and the outright murder and willful destruction of the Twin Towers and the portion of the Pentagon? People are dead. At a time like this, I'm not going to quibble.

Chapter 40: Katrina

I can’t believe how poorly the government appears to have responded to the disaster after Hurricane Katrina. The storm itself was bad enough, but for the federal government to not send personnel until late in the week was simply reprehensible.

So much of the response bothers me, I barely know where to begin. I didn’t see it myself, but I’ve heard from several people that Mike Brown, the director of FEMA, said to Ted Koppel that they didn’t have “confirmation” of the degree of damage and human suffering until Thursday. Why not? Koppel asked whether anyone actually watched the coverage, but I’m thinking that perhaps they don’t trust media reports (this is the Bush administration, after all), so they were waiting for people to call. And since the cell coverage was sketchy at best, they didn’t get the necessary confirmation. I don’t know. Maybe that’s not what happened. But one way or the other, not enough was done.

I hope the Republicans in power are made to pay for this debacle by being beaten at the polls, but that’ll be 14 months from now, and people will have forgotten much of the rage they’re feeling now.

I’m a bit surprised at the lack of leadership from both parties. The governor of Arkansas, Mike Huckabee, was recently in New Hampshire. Sure, he says it was a vacation, but politicians go to New Hampshire to set themselves up for the early primaries, establish connections with voters, etc. Whether he’s considering a run for the White House or not, his state borders Louisiana. What have they done? Perhaps the media isn’t covering such developments at a national level, but I’ve been pretty immersed in the philanthropic efforts going on, and I haven’t seen anything that specifically points to efforts conducted by Arkansas. As my link indicates, the state has done something, but people need to be told about them.

Nor has there been anything from Tennessee of particular note. And Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist is more likely to make a run for president. Tennessee borders Mississippi; where’s he been? I’ve not heard anything about John McCain (R-AZ) or Hillary Clinton(D-NY). I’ve not noticed anything about Joe Biden (D-DE). I may have missed their efforts (Biden's staff hasn't updated his Web site since August 30), but if any of these people are planning on showing they have the leadership capabilities to lead a diverse country through difficult times, this would be a nice time to show it. The only one who’s exhibited any candor is the mayor of New Orleans, and he’ll probably never get re-elected because this catastrophe happened during his watch.

Leadership is the issue, in my opinion, and there’s not been enough of it exhibited. I wasn’t a fan of Rudy Giuliani, but he did a spectacular job of leading after 9/11. It wasn’t about party, nor should this effort be about party. It’s about getting information out, getting resources in, and showing that someone in government is in charge.

President George Bush’s imperial mid-week flyover was an embarrassment. The man spent his month-long vacation in Texas and cut it short as a result of the storm. Where did he go? Back to Washington. Are you telling me the most powerful man in the world couldn’t be flown into the New Orleans area to show he actually cared about people in the country he leads. Don’t tell me it wasn’t safe enough. He’s the president of the United States, with the most dedicated troop of body guards money can buy at his disposal. He should have been there. Then when he finally got there, the photos were of him hugging a few people and walking dry streets. I’m sorry, Mr. President, I’d have had more respect for you if you’d walked through the flooded roads in your hip boots. Get your hands dirty, Mr. President. This is dirty work. But necessary.

Chapter 39.6: Final Eulogy

Well, I've given a couple days, so if anyone considers the following comments a spoiler about the final episode of Six Feet Under, that's your problem.

I enjoyed the episode, particularly the final montage while Claire was driving east through the desert, off to the unknown. As she listened to the "Deeply un-hip mix" CD from her boyfriend, Ted, her future passed before her eyes. Not just her future, but the future of her extended family. The marriage of Keith and David, Durrell learning about the mortuary business, Ruth's death with her children and George by her bedside, Brenda dying while her brother Billy rambled on about "emotional closure," Claire's wedding to Ted, and lives taken to peaceable ends (Keith's senseless murder aside).

One other little tid-bit that made me smile was Billy's t-shirt when the family visited Brenda to meet baby Willa: "What Would Jesus Bomb." I've been told these are real shirts that people can buy. I just thought it was a well placed, appropriate detail.

I'm a little confused about the end of the show for Maggie, George's daughter. Was she at a clinic to abort a child from her tryst with Nate, the night his brain exploded, was it pre-natal care, or was she simply at a doctor's appointment? I might have missed something, but the setting had to be significant, otherwise they could have placed her in any number of other spots.

I've had numerous conversations with people who don't like the show, had no sympathy for the characters, or were turned off by the subject matter. But regardless of what one thinks of the characters, I think it was good television. Interesting stories about life's difficulties. Funny quirks in so many of the people. An honesty about death that is rarely shown on television. I appreciated all of that and rarely if ever missed an episode. I'll miss the stories of Claire, Nate (who was getting rather annoying in the end), and even David (though I can't say I enjoyed watching the soul kisses he planted on his boyfriends -- so it goes.)

Rest in peace, Six Feet Under.

Chapter 39.55: Catching Up

Maureen and I visited my parents yesterday, and I read them the first two chapters of the novel. I chose that amount because it would only be about 20 or so pages, though I could have brought the third chapter as well, which is only a few pages long. Yet, if I had taken three chapters, I might not have noticed that the story doesn't really move until the third chapter, which involves a dream that sets up the first half of the book. Having taken only two chapters and reading them aloud, I soon discovered how problematic my opening is. So my decision is clear to me: I need to rework the opening chapters.

My goal remains to seek out an agent before the end of the year, but the fall will be busy with many different things to write and trips to make. I see a busy Saturday ahead of me, too, and I'd like to add the early chapter re-write into the mix. It may be put aside for deadline-related items.

Chapter 39.5: Coincidences and ESP

A friend sent me an email talking about how he seemed compelled to pick up a copy of a magazine he didn't normally read. It had nothing to do with what he does for a living, at least not directly, but he flipped through the pages and finally discovered what it was that "must" have called out to him as he passed the racks. A person he knew from college 20 years ago was quoted and photographed for the article. In his email, my friend discussed other coincidental moments that have occurred to him and openly asked if he had ESP.

I replied that it was coincidence, not ESP. What's missing from his thinking is the countless times a person sees something that he wasn't thinking of recently. You scan the TV pages to determine which rerun you want to fall asleep to, see Law & Order, flip to it, and it's an episode you haven't thought of in a few years, if you've even seen it before. You watch Briscoe make some wisecrack and soon slip off into dreamland with a cat nuzzling your ear or your heel dangling off the couch. And you never think of it again.

My point is, people remember the things they were thinking about when they pop up again. "Wow, I was just thinking of that episode of Gilligan's Island the other day, the one where Ginger gets all snuggly with the professor... Whodathunk that while flipping channels I'd run into just that episode?" But you're not thinking of all the other old movies, the episodes of Northern Exposure, that Roma Downey as an angel show, and some Robert Downey Jr. film that crossed your brain too but didn't pop into your television viewing schedule.

I used to do the same thing with digital watches. It always seemed that I looked at my watch right around the change of a minute. 58 seconds after the minute, 59, double zero, maybe 01 or 02. It seemed uncanny. Then I did the math: If I allow those five seconds of time to be significant, I have a 1 in 12 chance of catching one of those seconds. Odds aren't that tough at that point. Now, if I always seemed to catch the clock at 43 seconds into the minute, exactly ... well, even then it's one in 60.

My friend is a reporter and editor. It's odd that he saw the person he knew in the magazine, but I said, "Think of all the times you've looked at a magazine and NOT found someone you knew. You're a man of the world. You've covered hundreds of events, interviewed more than a thousand people. You're may be more likely to see someone you know than most readers. Even then, how often do you recognize a person?"

I don't want to blow the little ESP fantasy, because I do believe that some people are more sensitive to changes and patterns than others, and he may indeed be one of them. I subscribe to logic: there's usually a reason things happen. Science backs lots of unlikely, otherwise incomprehensible things -- black holes, time warps, moebius strips, the square root of negative-one.

It's one of the reasons this whole "intelligent design" thing pisses me off. I believe that God exists. I believe that he created us all and the universe, etc. I don't think he did it a minute ago in geological time. I think he created the Big Bang, like he was flicking on the lights, and said, "Wow, I haven't looked in here yet. Let me check this out for a little while." And as God explores, the universe keeps expanding. Naive, I know. But if it's with the eyes of a child that one enters the kingdom of heaven, then I'm going to keep my childish thoughts alive as long as I can.

There's more going on in the world than our eyes can see. If you you have ESP, I'm not going to tell you you're wrong. And I still believe in ghosts even though I've never seen one. But that's another story...

Chapter 39.3: PGA-OK

Finally the PGA Championship has left our sleepy little Springfield, though not without raising its temperature. For weeks before the tournament began, rumors spread through the town about where the professional golfers were going to live. Go to the post office and someone was whispering about how much so-and-so was getting for renting his home to Tiger Woods for the week. Thousands, said some; a million others had heard.

I don’t know where he lived, nor do I care. My home wasn’t quite close enough to attract offers of any money for parking on my lawn, but others charged $50 or more per car per day. There were some who were making money off those who brought their cell phones – banned by the PGA from the course. I made nothing from the event, though I enjoyed having it around.

My wife and I both volunteered to serve as EMTs during the week. Maureen ended up doing three different days, including Monday, when play resumed after storms caused a suspension. She was on national television tending to patients after the tree limb collapsed, injuring three. For the first time since I’ve known her, she seemed happy to watch golf on television.

I was on the course for the Saturday morning shift and stuck around to watch the rest of the tournament’s third day of competition. I saw Tiger. I saw Phil. I saw Vijay. I stood a couple of feet away from Steve Elkington when he punched out his ball that had landed in the woods from the third tee. I was along the fairway on 17 when John Daly became the first person to twice reach the green on two shots. And I witnessed some pro trying to pick up a couple of big-breasted twenty-somethings as he practiced on the putting green. (At least that’s how it appeared to me, and if I knew who he was I still probably wouldn’t name him here.)

There were some interesting little tid-bits that I’ll remember. For instance, in the radio traffic, Tiger was “The Package” and had a crew of two EMTs and a paramedic assigned to follow him because he attracted the most people. Some men drank obscene amounts of beer for even more obscene prices during the hottest, most unhealthy days of the summer. Even people who were drinking water were having dehydration problems because they simply weren’t drinking enough.

I’m proud of how the area handled the tournament. The people I met around town took it in stride; I witnessed more panic by New Yorkers last summer during the Republican Convention than I saw in Springfield during the PGA, and there were more people here than for the convention. (Of course, we wanted the golf; most New Yorkers didn’t want the Republicans.) I’d love to see old Baltusrol get another U.S. Open in the near future. I think we proved we can handle it.

Chapter 39.1: Idle Chatter

New York is as I remember it. Filled with beautiful, indifferent women and smells of body functions best left undescribed. My office is in Chelsea not far from Union Square, but I still need to learn about my neighborhood. Some days I take a quick walk to ascertain my surroundings, to the park for music and observations. The farmers market is expensive, and I’m not about to tote a bag of corn back to New Jersey. Other days I meander up to Barnes & Noble to read poems or pages of philosophy texts. I find them much more nourishing than the vegetables at the market.

One morning I was walking up 14th Street when a woman was hanging the American flag at the Job Center. The only problem was she had it upside down. I called it to the attention of her co-worker, who was letting people into the building. He didn’t understand what I meant until I pointed and said, “The flag. It’s upside down.” His face seemed to open up in horror – far more dramatic than the moment required. He called out to the woman and I went on my way.

The church on 15th Street is being renovated. At least, that’s what appears to be happening. There are construction workers who toss dusty chunks of plaster into piles on the sidewalk. A homeless man sleeps on an old recliner; I wonder if he dragged it there or if it came from inside.

I’m surprised at how many dogs there are in the neighborhood. I see people walking their dogs at all hours of the day, but it’s as though two dozen dogs hit the streets at about 8 a.m. in that neighborhood. Small streams run away from the crouching dogs and mingle with the other mess on the street. The street cleaners seem to run every day, though I’m sure I’m mistaken; I just don’t care enough about the machines to pay attention to their schedule.

A cheery woman hands out copies of the free daily newspaper, amNew York at the corner of 14th and 6th. She mixes treacly comments to passersby she recognizes, which I’m not in the mood to hear before a cup of coffee. Yet, one day last week she wasn’t there. Some guy stood holding a copy of the paper and merely said “amNew York.” The next day the happy woman was back, and I took the paper, happy she was back. I enjoy doing its crossword puzzle on the PATH train back home at the end of the day. And the music information is passable.

Chapter 39: Progress Report

It’s been too long since my last blog posting. Too long in the sense that I’ve missed the opportunity to write with sadness about the passing of James “Scotty” Doohan, the actor known for playing Mr. Scott on Star Trek. Too long to discuss my initial thoughts at my new job, which is going well. Too long to comment on the abysmal weather, hotter than I like it and dripping with humidity. Almost too long to comment on what’s been going on with my novel.

So I’ll start there. My brother and his wife have begun to read it, and they gave me some feedback. I’m starting to consider fictionalizing the second town in my book. I’m still setting it in Hoboken, but I was using a few too many real references in a second town, and they’re not really necessary. The Hoboken references are almost entirely defunct, out of business places – in fact, that’s the point. One of the messages of the book is to cherish the present, but time will pass, often with harrowing experiences that we must surmount.

Perhaps because they were family, what could have been a harrowing experience – the initial critique of my first novel -- wasn’t. My family members were equally adept at criticizing fairly and with encouragement to continue. I was going to continue anyway, but he was really good about it. I am looking forward to the thoughts of others as well, but the book is not yet ready to be consumed by the general populace. It needs more time in the oven.

I hope to be more frequent with my postings from now on. I need them even if no one else does.

Chapter 38.3: End of an Era

Today was my last day of work at The NonProfit Times. After more than nine years I'm moving on. I have greatly appreciated the opportunities that have come my way, and I'm looking forward the new ones ahead at Philanthropy News Digest.

For those I've worked with -- thank you for your kindness. You will be missed and I will not be a stranger.

Chapter 38.15: Not Too Surprising

Why does this not surprise me? It's being reported that Karl Rove was identified as the source of the leak that led to Valerie Plame's cover being blown. The point is being disputed, of course, and I'm in no position to state emphatically that Rove did it. But why is it not surprising that he's involved at any level? This guy is a brilliant political operative, who appears to be hell bent on dealing with anyone who tries to cross his leader, President George W. Bush. Rove is one dangerous man. I wouldn't trust that man to hold a state secret if he thought revealing it would help his candidate/president. Now, good reporters are facing jail (Judy Miller's already incarcerated) and further court dealings because of his manipulation. He appears to have used their loyalty to liberty and freedom to not only his advantage but their disadvantage. If it's true that Rove leaked this information, I hope he's jailed for a long time. The full extent of the law should apply to him.

Chapter 38.1: Prayers and Hope

My thoughts and prayers go to those innocents injured and killed in the diabolic attacks in London this morning. What savagery mankind can inflict on its own kind knows no bounds.

Though reports are still coming in, it seems obvious that the London attacks were conducted by trained terrorists intent on killing and maiming as many as possible. Those lives must not be tossed away in vain.

Chapter 38: Catching Up

My legs are sore this morning. For the first time in more than a year I caught a game. In fact, I think it’s the first time I’ve caught an entire game for about five years – and those games were slow pitch softball.

Last night I was catching in the Springfield modified league. Ron Bern, who is a world-class softball pitcher and has literally won the world championship in men’s professional softball (not Olympics) is our pitcher and has as much movement as anyone I’ve caught. And I’ve caught guys who later went on to pitch in the Major Leagues.

The game was excellent, though we lost 3-2 in eight innings. After getting used to how Ron pitches, he and I got into a decent groove. Within a few innings I was able to start getting into the umpire’s head about the advantages the opposing batters were trying to take on my pitcher. Ron throws a lot of rising pitches, so batters try to move up on the plate against him. They were up in the batter’s box – too far in my opinion. I quietly mentioned that to the umpire and let him enforce the rules. More than anything, it got into the batters’ heads and anything that distracts them from their job of hitting works for us.

My own batting wasn’t too strong. I went 1-3 with a single up the middle. I got called out on strikes my first at bat on what I believe was an inside pitch. It caused me to jack-knife backward, but I was sent to put my gear back on.

In the final inning they scored a run on a play that ended with me tagging another runner out at the plate. That felt good. I can’t remember when I’ve last had a close play at the plate as a catcher. It might be all the way back in high school.

Now that I’ve woken up with sore legs, I recall why I love catching. It’s not the soreness or pain, of course, it’s the feeling that I contributed more than I can anywhere else on the field. Even pitchers can’t contribute quite the way a catcher can, though I’d be happy to debate that. A play at the plate, batters walking away confused about the batter’s box. A single up the middle. If only we had won, it would have been a really good night.

Chapter 37.9: Just What Was Needed

I thoroughly enjoyed this holiday weekend. Between trips to the shore, softball games, picnics, and the obligatory fireworks show, I found time to simply relax. I haven't done that for far too long. I still have much to do, and not much time before deadlines hit me. But I hope to look back on this past weekend and say "That was a great Independence Day."

Chapter 37.7: Moonlight Graham and Me

I played softball again last night. It’s the first game I’ve played in Springfield since April. (Or was it early May?) I’ve been so busy with work, umpiring, the novel, and getting my professional life in order [more on that in about 10 days] that I’ve not been able to play.

In my first at bat, I had the bases loaded and sent a fly ball out to right field for a run-scoring sacrifice. As I received the congratulations from my teammates, I thought about how similar the play looked to the first at bat of Moonlight Graham. Any viewer of "Field of Dreams" would know him as the guy who became a doctor in Chisholm, Minn.

He was a real guy, who played in one game with the New York Giants. One hundred days ago today, actually. There was an AP article in The Star-Ledger on Monday.

In my mind, I’m almost at that point in my life where I will be hanging up my cleats and breaking out my Mike Schmidt glove only when a brother or brother-in-law comes around and asks if I want to have a catch. The squad softball games will continue, I suppose, but they haven’t satisfied my hunger for competition for some time. And this past spring I’ve pitched more than play any other position. I’ve rediscovered that unless you’re winning or in a close game, pitching is frustrating.

This could be my final season, and I’ll be just another guy who used to play ball. I’ve already transitioned to umpiring. Perhaps one day there’ll be a child I can coach and teach the game – and the love of the game. One of my upcoming novels will be about a ball player.

I’m not quite as sad about this baseball reality as I thought I’d be. This spring has been eye opening in many ways. One game I played shortstop for the Fire Department and had several plays in which I didn’t field the ball cleanly. I couldn’t bend as I was accustomed to doing. My feet didn’t work the way they’re supposed to; my coordination was wrong. It felt odd. Foreign. That’s not me. But the painful reality was that it’s what I’ve become. Out of shape. Not in "game shape."

Yet, this past Sunday playing for the squad in our latest blowout loss, I was back in the outfield where I’d played in my 20s. I was able to judge the ball fine, and my arm wasn’t as soft as I’d feared it would be. Even last night, my baseball know-how helped the team keep a run from scoring. I was in right field and the batter was running toward second base with a double he’d hit to left. The relay from the shortstop tipped off the second baseman’s glove. I was backing up and the runner didn’t even attempt to advance. We got out of the inning with that runner spot-welded to second.

I still know how to play, and if I can improve physically then I might be able to continue. But work will be changing for me. Commuting will wear me down, and I think my future is arriving. Win one for me, will ya, boys.

Chapter 37.5: Change of Seasons

Yes, it has been a while since my last entry, but I’m not one of those three-months-and-out bloggers. I’ve begun some transitions in my life, which for me are challenging.

As a person who loves chapters, I recognize that I also like to linger with a bookmark at the end of one and before the next opens. I might look at the first couple sentences or paragraphs, but unless I know I can devote more time, I’ll leave it there until I return. Change doesn’t come as easily to me as I’d like to believe.

I’ve given notice at my current job, and will begin a new one in July. Out of respect, I’ll wait until I begin the new one before I go into any details – and even then I might keep it to myself as far as this blog is concerned. Suffice it to say, I have needed a change for many years. And at this point in my life, I want to seize an opportunity I believe could be very helpful for me and for which I’m uniquely qualified.

It should also help my book, as I’ll be returning to New York and cutting through Hoboken, where much of my novel takes place. Now, if I could also go back in time to 2000/2001, when it takes place, I’d have it made.

Change is happening in the novel too. I’m reworking the opening chapter, which has remained largely intact for the past several years. The writing’s fine, but it doesn’t move people the way it needs to in an opening chapter. I’ll reduce it to flashback and start where the action is. I’m sure my readers will appreciate it.

Change can be good.

Chapter 37.2: Another Finish Line

Ok, the implementation of my edits is complete, and I've trimmed back 12,000 words, which was 10 percent of the initial 120,000 version. I've gone from 390 pages down to 350. I still have problems to fix, which I'll handle in the coming weeks, but feel good about getting this step taken care of. It was three months, basically to the day, since I finished my first draft. Maureen is reading, and I had another friend read the first few chapters. Some of her comments coincided with Maureen's, some don't. One of the friend's comments was that I should have someone who isn't knowledgeable about Hoboken, NJ, where much of the novel takes place, read it also. It's a fair point: if I want to make sure I'm convincing someone about the locale, then I should see what someone who doesn't know it thinks about it. I have a person in mind who I'll add to the short list.

But while Maureen reads, I'm going to be researching agents. This is my new quest: Find a literary agent to work with by the end of 2005 and hopefully get the book sold while I embark on my second.

Chapter 37: Irish Fingerprints

I was sending off a copy of an encyclopedia entry I wrote about 19th century baseball manager Ned Hanlon and noticed something missing from among the other entries in this work. I've likely not seen the entire list of contents, but a work intended to make the Irish more accessible to Americans was missing one of the 20th century's most interesting Irish poets, Thomas Kinsella.

I chose "accessible" purposely, because Kinsella's work is considered to be complex and often dark, yet when I was one of his students back in 1989 in Dublin I thought he was remarkably accessible and even funny. I know that not all my fellow students agreed with me, but to me Kinsella was one of the most interesting writers I'd ever met -- and still is.

I recently re-read one of his most noteworthy books: The Tain Bo Cualigne (The Cattle Raid of Cooley). It is his translation of this epic Irish poem, part of the Ulster Cycle. I'd forgotten how graphic the book is, not only in its descriptions of the killings and beheadings of warriors but also the sex. The Irish of the pagan era were not prudes; there seems to be little worry about people sharing women -- and the women often took the initiative to join the beds of other warriors. If this story were put to film it would have to be rated at least NC-17.

For readers out there with interest in Irish history, strong stomachs, and good senses of humor, I suggest you pick up a copy of The Tain. For me, I'm going to go back to his poetry. The idea of picking it up again is daunting, as he's been writing for half a century and his oeuvre is vast. Yet, somehow I feel there's a reason I'm rediscovering him now.

Chapter 36.7: Holiday Weekend

I’ve always loved Memorial Day. When I was a kid, it meant an extra day of baseball games to play. As I got older, of course, it became the unofficial beginning of summer. Now that I’m an adult, it tends to be the time of year I take time off from work. This year I was able to swing a six-day weekend, mostly to finish implementing the edits of my book.

I’m looking at page 219 of my original document. I’ve already culled nearly 10 percent from the book, and I have more than 100 pages to go. What began as 390 pages is now no more than 358 and certain to be less. Two or three chapters have been deleted – one that hurt, as an argument could be made to keep it. The scenes reflected one of the book’s themes, but they were too much backstory, with the development of characters who went nowhere in the rest of the story. Bye bye.

Maureen’s been steeped in her new toy – a flatbed scanner to replace the one she exhausted over the past few years of running her own company. It did yeoman’s work and was worth every penny of the $100 or so I paid. This one, a similar price, but apparently better quality, has already captivated me. Perhaps there’ll be an image of my smiling mug on this blog soon. Or perhaps it’ll be the one of me hitting a softball during a July 4th game two years ago. I was allowed to play with the scanner, too.

Chapter 36.4: Readathon

The reading has begun!

Maureen, mechanical pencil in hand, has begun to read my first novel. While she was doing that, I continued with the edits and have now completed a third of the book, which has been trimmed by 5,000 words. I think I'm still on pace to cull 12,000 from the first draft, and I know Maureen has recommended cuts already. I believe that by Memorial Day I'll have her edit suggestions in hand, and perhaps I'll have the book re-written by the first weekend in June. Perhaps. My other initial readers will have copies long before the next major holiday weekend. I hope to have done my agent research by Labor Day if not sooner.

Chapter 36.3: Edit Progress

I believe I'm done writing for the day. After my morning doctor's appointment (I'm still alive) and brunch, I was able to get going around 1. More than six hours later, I've gotten through the first 57 pages of the original 390; it's now 50 pages of 381. I even caught Maureen peeking through some of the pages. Perhaps I'll print out these first 50 as long as I know I can keep pace with her reading.

But tonight we're going to celebrate. A steak dinner, a movie or two. A day of progress, both medical and emotional. The dismal rain dampened some of my outdoor distractions, but all for the best. Tomorrow will come in time.

Chapter 36.2: Vacating Myself

Ok, there's a weak play on words in the title of this entry: I'm talking about vacation, but I'm also talking about getting out of the self I've become recently. In addition to the previously mentioned increase in my blood pressure, I'm stressing out a lot. I need to calm myself down, and a couple days out of the office this week and a few more before the holiday weekend will help to that end.

It's not a lot of time - probably not enough to reduce my stress, anyway - and I have goals that might be unattainable for the time off and won't strike everyone else as vacation: getting my book back into shape now that I've proofed and edited things, writing freelance items with deadlines looming, and attending to household tasks like mowing the lawn and cleaning the gutters. Surprisingly, that stuff can relax me. (No, I'm not doing it for anybody else's house.)

I want to be able to read on the front porch with a can of beer beside me. I want to strum my guitar and perhaps start writing a few songs again. I want to jog with spring air in my lungs. I want to lie awake listening to my wife breath before the alarm sounds. I won't answer phones. No constant email updates for a few days. To hell with everyone else. Leave me a message, I'll get to it.

What's that old joke: How do you make God laugh? Tell him your plans for tomorrow.

Chapter 36: One-Year Anniversary

I didn't happen to notice it until this morning, but I just hit my one-year anniversary of having a blog. My best-laid plans of trying to have a beautiful blog with photos and links to great items haven't come to pass yet. But I've enjoyed having this little sliver of space to wax foolish and ignorant.

Anyway, I was wandering through some of my literary e-newsletters and came across this item, which I haven't completely read yet.

It seemed fitting, however, given a conversation I had last night with one of Maureen's professional colleagues. We were chatting about books, and I said that I believe books are more popular and prevalent than the media would have you believe. Look at the success of Amazon, for example, and the number of reading clubs that have been created in the past decade. Sure, the avalanche of reality shows undermines any belief I might have in an intelligent society, but there are pockets of people who aren't slaves to inane television.

It gives me hope that there will be an audience for my novels, that people like to read books that don't insult the reader's intelligence. And while lots of people love nonfiction, I still think that story matters more than whether it's "true" or not.

I finished my proofing of the novel, and over the next week I'll implement the edits and write those new scenes. Maureen will have a copy before Memorial Day.

Chapter 35.7: Nearly Done

Perhaps I'm being premature, but I think I'll finish the initial proofing/editing of the novel before the weekend is complete. At the moment, I'm in the last 40 pages. I've got a busy weekend ahead of me, however, so if I don't get it done I'm not going to bang myself over the head with anything dangerous.

I see this portion of the effort two-fold: first I have the proofing and my suggestions to myself, second is the implementation. I have several sections I know I want to rewrite partially. Plus, I have scenes to create. There's lots of areas in which I'm not pleased with my description or lack thereof. Long story short: I've still got a lot of work to do before I print it out again and let Maureen read it.

Hopefully, I'll be able to take some days off next week as I'm planning. If I have time to get on the computer, then I'll put the time in and finish it. But Maureen's first generation of her company's Web site is just days away from launching, so she has first dibs on the computer.

I think we both have long-awaited projects just itching to see the light of day.

Chapter 35.5: Getting Older

Apparently, I’m getting old. I’m in my mid-30s, so to some it shouldn’t be a surprise. I, however, find it a little difficult to accept. I’m not that old. No, I haven’t run the marathon I intend to complete yet; in fact my running has been sporadic at best this year. And no, I haven’t stopped drinking beer; perhaps I drink too much, but it’s a debatable point I can argue.

But people have noticed my face has been redder than usual. Suntan starting to develop, I say. I’ve torn the backside of an old pair of pants, but they were starting to look threadbare anyway. It was just a matter of time. My blood pressure has been a bit high lately. Stress, I suggest. It’ll go down again when things get better. But, perhaps it won’t. As an EMT, I should know better than to blow off the signs and symptoms of a changing physical condition. And stress isn’t healthy anyway, so it’s not helping me even if I can explain its root cause.

Maureen recommended I see our doctor. It’s been several years since I had a real physical, so she’s probably right. I might learn that my cholesterol is higher than I think it is. See ya later Saturday egg brunches, it was nice knowing you. I might be Lipitor-bound, a sure sign of increasing age among the chronically middle-aged man in denial. There probably are other beloved food items I’ll be told to eat in moderation.

I’ve cut out my afternoon cup of tea, but somehow I don’t think that’s going to be enough to stem the tide of creeping age. While I accept change, I don’t really want too much of it in my life. This sounds like the beginning of some significant changes. Damn. I was just starting to get used to being over 30, too.

Chapter 35.3: Another Season

Despite unseasonably chilly weather, I finally got to play in a softball game this season. Back in the modified league in Springfield, we won. I don't even know what the final score was; I was ready to play another few innings. The end came too quickly. I played right center, went 1-3 and scored a run. It felt good to run around, jog out to the outfield at each half inning, jog back in after our pitcher devoured the opposition. The one ball that came my way landed safely in my glove. One run, one hit, no errors.

I've had a sense lately that my days of playing are coming to an end. I'm physically able, and I still enjoy it. My competition level isn't where it used to be, but I think it's a deeper matter than that. I have other priorities. When I was 12 I never would have said something like that -- not when it came to baseball. I'm not 12 anymore. If I'd had the ability to play in the major leagues like I dreamed when I was young, I'd probably be starting to think about my career after playing. I'd be interested in managing a team; I was a catcher, it's what catchers do. I'd start in the minors, claw up the standings to win a championship, and prepare myself for the shot in the show.

Fantasies are fun, but my reality isn't baseball. My dreams now are focused on this novel of mine and the ones I have in my head waiting to be written. But for now, my reality includes a full-time job and playing softball when my schedule allows. I'll enjoy this while I can.

Chapter 35: Earl Wilson

I read some sad news about a former Major League pitcher, who starred for the Detroit Tigers. Earl Wilson was the third leg of the triumvirate of pitching talent that led the 1968 World Champion Tigers to success, though he was often overshadowed by Denny McLain (31 wins) and Mickey Lolich (three World Series victories). The previous year, however, when the Tigers fell just short of the Red Sox in their Impossible Dream season, Wilson led the league in victories. Once again, he was overshadowed, this time by Jim Lonborg, who won the Cy Young Award for leading the Red Sox' pitching staff.

Wilson was more than an able pitcher. He also was a strong hitter, retiring with 35 home runs as a pitcher, second most all time behind Wes Ferrell. He often pinch hit for the Tigers. When his playing days were done, he was instrumental in Baseball Assistance Team (BAT), which helps former Major Leaguers and Negro League players who need financial help. Though players today make a minimum of $316,000 it wasn't always such an outstanding paying profession. Moreover, the education levels of many players -- today and in the past -- has often left them vulnerable to being swindled.

Wilson played and lived like a champion.

Chapter 34.55: Progress Report

Amazing what a day can do. Despite four calls during squad today and a softball practice, as well as working some of the items I needed to do for the Scottish organization, I was able to read/edit my book to page 260. I'm two-thirds of the way through it, and pleased to say the middle third was pretty readable. Flaws remain, of course, but overall I was pleased with what I read -- espcially considering I'd forgotten that I wrote much of it. I found myself chuckling at character interactions, finding less superfluous back story to trim, and scribbling fewer red marks on the pages. I still fear I know these characters so well that I'm not describing them well enough for readers other than me. It's not yet publishable, but it seems like it's getting closer.

Chapter 34.5: Lazy Saturday

The weather sucks, chilly and grey, doing nothing to inspire me to fulfill mundane household tasks such as cleaning the gutters or scraping up last fall’s leftover leaves. So I’ve been organizing myself indoors while I await a phone call. We got ourselves a new batch of empty floppy disks (yes, there are still people who save on floppies), and I’ve cleared my email box of about 80 notes I’d been holding for this opportunity.

Everything gets a disk. One disk for background information for the next novel. Another for items for what I expect will be the fourth or fifth novel (perhaps I’m getting too far ahead of myself). Rolodex entries for people I’ll need to remember but won’t without electronic prompting. Items related to freelance work for a variety of clients. Each client has their own disk. Intermixed in all this was an IM conversation with my brother, who was watching the NFL draft at the time and predicting injuries to some newly minted millionaires.

Before I forget: Some people have asked me to keep their name and email addresses on a list so I can let them know about how things progress – when I sign with an agent, any publication news, etc. If anyone who reads this is interested, please send me an email. For those who don’t have my usual email address, send requests to mattsinclair@myway.com. I will not share your information with anyone.

I’m halfway through the edits of my novel, but I discovered a section that I’d intended to write and didn’t, so I have a potential snag. I don’t want to add too much, but there is something new that must be written. A scene or a reflection, clarity for what comes next. By the time I’m off to bed tonight, I’ll have read through 200 pages of the novel. I actually had a page that didn’t need any red marks on it. I think that’s the first one. Perhaps I’m being too hard on myself, but I doubt it. The edits are extensive but necessary. Whole chapters have been cut, and the next version will be cut even more.

I’m enjoying this.

Chapter 34.4: Moving Right Along

Since the Mets were bad enough to watch with the mute on last night, I got a bit further along on my edits. I'm now in the 160s and I was pleased to find one critical scene wasn't as bad as I feared it might be. I think there's enough tension and humor trying to break the tension, which is what I was looking for there. The deeper tension of the book has begun, after the initial problems have been established. I might need to cull back the earlier material more than I already have. That'll be determined within my wife's reading. I'm looking forward to that almost as much as I was looking forward to finishing the first draft. I'll have edited more than 200 pages by the end of this weekend, and I think I might be through the book by the end of April. But this will be one of many readings of the same novel this year.

By the way: for those loyal Coffee Cup readers (and there's more than I realized), thanks for your recent email communiques. Feel free to make any suggestions about odd stories you think I'd enjoy.

Chapter 34.3: The Pope and Our Lady of the Underpass

An odd conjunction of stories today. The big news, of course, is the election of Pope Benedict XVI, the former Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger. As a practicing Catholic, I'm pleased to have a new leader of the church. I admit he's been portrayed as more conservative than I would prefer, but time will tell. His enrollment in the Hitler Youth as a child sounds horrible to me, but articles have indicated it was mandatory for boys then and that his family was anti-Nazi. I'm still trying to figure out how this pope fits in with St. Malachy's prediction that the pope after J.P. II would be born Jewish; it's why I thought the French cardinal would be selected. Again, time will tell.

After the news of the new pope, I noticed a story in the Chicago Tribune about an odd water stain image that to some appears to be the Virgin Mary.

I looked at the picture the paper showed. What concerned me was not the image but the grafitti nearby that said "Satan Loves." I have no idea which of those things occurred first, the man made words or the natural water stain, but it just seemed off.

Chapter 34.1: Edit update

Just a quick update for those who are interested. I'm moving a bit slowly on the edits of the book, but I've accomplished some of my initial goals. Tonight I put red Xs through a page or two of detail that readers won't miss. Keeping my Ideal Reader in mind, I recognized that the wistful ruminations of my lead character on sports as he watches hockey on a bar television weren't necessarily pertinent to the story. Not bad writing, but it goes. I'm in the 130s and went through a somewhat too graphic sex scene before calling it quits for the night. I'm one-third of the way through, and I think I've cut out more than I've added.

Chapter 34.09: Spoil Sport

Ok, first off, I want to apologize to loyal reader John (loyal reader in the sense that he's read the blog more than once.) I expected that as a loyal WW viewer, he'd have already seen the season finale, and that my recent update wouldn't be the spoiler that it was. Sorry.

So, now on to something that will only spoil themselves: The Mets.

I had the pleasure of attending the home opener yet again. The crowd was ready for something different than the Art Howe era. The team has sucked like a newborn the first week of the season, and they started yesterday's game without offering much hope of anything different. Tom Glavine kept them in a game they seemed destined to lose. But they put a rally together on soft hits and aggressive play. It helped that the Astros couldn't catch fly balls to the outfield, and they eventually brought in John Franco to face his old team (and fans eager to watch him give up crucial runs as they were accustomed to seeing him do).

Their victory gave them a 2-5 record. Rather crappy. It'll get better, and statistically speaking it should get much better. Winning two of seven means they have a .286 winning percentage. I think they'll do better than that. 85-89 wins is my prediction. Third place in the NL East, at best. I've said it before, and I still believe it's true. I like Doug Mientkeiwicz (or however it's spelled) and Carlos Beltran. I've been pleasantly surprised by Pedro Martinez so far. But their pitching is worse now than it was in February when they arrived at camp. The injury to Steve Trachsel is devastating, if for no other reason than they won't get his 200+ innings out of Aaron Heilman or Jae So.

We should enjoy our victories, Mets fans. They won't come in abundance.

Chapter 34.05: The Race Begins

Ok, this will almost certainly be the last West Wing item for a while, since tonight's episode was the season finale, but I was pleasantly surprised by the Democratic ticket for next fall's campaign shows. I wasn't too surprised at Jimmy Smits's Matthew Santos character getting the nod; I think Martin Sheen's President Bartlet liked him all along. But I never considered Leo McGarry as the vice presidential nominee. That was a complete surprise to me.

To me, it means that Alan Alda will not win the election. He's done a decent job as the Republican nominee -- a likeable character who appeals to both sides of the aisle. But I don't think the West Wing folks would have included Leo on the ticket unless they were going to have the Democrats win. I wouldn't be surprised if the election's as tight as 2000, however.

Assuming Santos/McGarry win, I’ve got a couple predictions and questions about characters in a Santos administration: chief of staff would be Josh Lyman, who led the campaign; Toby Ziegler might be in prison if he’s found to be the leak of national security secrets (or perhaps C.J. Cregg is, if it’s her). Perhaps Will Bailey takes over Josh’s old deputy COS for politics. If C.J.’s not in prison, does she remain in the White House? I’m not sure. I doubt she’d do the press secretary job again, and I don’t expect her to get the COS job for Santos. Perhaps she takes over Toby’s role as director of communications. Who becomes press secretary, Donna Moss or the perky, annoying short woman (Annabeth)?

Does Charlie Young marry Zoe Bartlet? (That strikes me as the jump the shark episode. Another potential shark could swim in the form of a White House infant, since Santos and his wife have been shown trying to fool around during the campaign.) And to what extent will we see former President Bartlet diminish? Would there be an episode in which Rob Lowe’s Sam Seaborn character is approached for a role in the new administration? Will we ever see Dr. McNally again or do we end up counting the times Mary McCormack’s hair style changes? When will Vice President McGarry have another heart attack?

I realize that the show has become somewhat like a soap opera, but I’ve enjoyed watching the development of many of these characters. There’s energy out there to write a new adminstration

Chapter 34: Ghoul Pool

Number two has occurred. Frank Perdue can now learn which came first, the chicken or the egg. He seemed like a nice guy.

In keeping with the idea of death coming in threes, I'm curious who's next: The Pope or Prince Rainier of Monaco. Perhaps there are a couple others to come this weekend, and it'll be a pair of threes. (The unfortunate Terri Schiavo went first yesterday.)

Chapter 33.9: West Wing Shear

Ok, perhaps I missed something on tonight's episode, but there's a problem about the story line depicting the trouble with the International Space Station. My understanding is that there is an attached Soyuz capsule on the ISS at all times to serve as a lifeboat in the off chance the crew has to abandon the station. That could have been addressed in two sentences in the show, and I think it should have been. They could still have posited the military shuttle idea and suggested that CJ Cregg leaked the story to the New York Times, but the lifeboat should have been addressed. If I missed it, then mea culpa: it wouldn't be the first time.

Chapter 33.8: Mate in Three Moves?

I was intrigued by the re-emergence of chess master Bobby Fischer, who has been detained in a Japanese jail since last July. Apparently he hadn't shaved since then and his face was covered in a gray beard, which looked perfectly suited for his new life in Iceland.

He reportedly has become an Icelandic citizen and renounced his U.S. citizenship. He and his Japanese wife, whom I believe he married while he was in prison, flew to Reykjavik. They love him in Iceland, where he won his most famous chess match against Russian master Boris Spassky, a 1972 battle in the Cold War.

I didn't realize the problems with the United States revolved around his earning $3 million for beating Spassky again. The 1992 match was in the former Yugoslavia, which was verboten territory for Americans back then, according to the article.

As I recall, Fischer had been a bit of a recluse prior to 1992 also.

Personally, I think there should be t-shirts emblazoned with his bearded, baseball-capped visage, perhaps with a phrase in Icelandic -- not that I know anything about the country outside of Björk (or is it Bjørk?). He denounces governments, plays chess better than 100 percent of the planet (statistically speaking), and runs away to the Arctic circle. How cool is that!

Chapter 33.5: Moving Forward

The edits began today. I’m not sure if I’m doing it right. I’ve made the basic proofreading fixes, beefed up a few verbs, but I don’t know that I’m reading it like a reader would. I don’t know yet if it’s enjoyable. I’m still locked into the first chapter; I might need to give it more time to sit. It’s too fresh.

Perhaps this is because I’ve gone through the first chapter so many times already. I don’t know chapter 20 nearly as well, and it’s been months since I last read that deep into the story.

Still, today has not been a loss. I’ve gotten below 120,000 words. I’ve also asked some questions of the novel I believe a reader would ask and which need to be addressed. This will take a while.

Chapter 33.4: Worry Warts

I was just reading a piece about marketing one's small business. The sixth of the six tips spoke of not letting yourself worry -- to think positively. Sounds good, of course, but it's not that easy. Not to go into too much detail on what is a worldwide billboard, but I can relate to worrying too much.

Perhaps the thing I'm most positive and optimistic about currently is my novel, which I've barely touched since finishing 10 days ago. Mentally, I've eliminated some scenes and chapters, though I've got to physically do it and resolve the potential timeline holes that creates. I honestly expect those particular scene changes to not be so difficult. The primary purpose of those scenes is to create a reason for the wife to be out of town at a particular time. I can do it more succinctly without losing the story or the reality those scenes convey.

As any writer should, I recognize that I'm a small business. I need to have a product to bring to market -- articles or novels or scripts, editorial services as well -- and I need to let potential customers know about me, my talents, and what I can do to help their business grow. I hope to grow my business, and along with that will come other business partners. Of course, there's more to a business plan than those things. I have to know my market and show how I am focusing my strategy to meet what the market needs while differentiating myself. And I suspect that each new book will have a new "management team" of readers who have the skills and background to show me what I'm missing in the product -- whether it's my understanding of a specific setting or line of work or, God forbid, grammatical structure.

I was watching snippets of tonight's Project Greenlight, where the producers (including Matt Damon and Ben Affleck) selected a script and a director. What intrigued me was that neither the script nor the director were unanimously accepted. Serious issues of art versus commerce arose. I was a bit surprised that the less commercial director was selected, for he will present some obvious challenges. He doesn't seem to prepare well, and it's not clear what his vision is of the film he's to create. For him to succeed, it will take more than artistic talent.

One comment I found interesting was that the safer selection could have created a "double" on a baseball scale, while this guy could hit a home run but just as likely strike out. (Is it any surprise that Affleck and Damon are Red Sox fans?) In part, the safe selection was based on personality, and the antagonism toward the selected director also appeared based on personality. The director who presented himself as the weaker "small business" was selected, but how much slack will he be given before the leash is yanked back and possibly chokes him. I hate reality shows generally, but I might actually watch this one.

Chapter 33.3: Starting Slow

I can't say anything about the nascent baseball season has caught my attention yet. At this point in March I'm usually paying attention to learn which young players to watch and which team will be the surprise that catches their division asleep. (I think it's the Mets, actually, but they're not a huge surprise.)

But with all the discussion about steroids I'm simply not that interested. I probably am a hypocrite, because I believe the biggest problem with baseball right now is that fans are willing to give cheaters a pass. Yet, here I am saying 'I don't care, just start playing.'

I've looked at the Mets early schedule, and I think they could post a strong April and early May, especially if they put their pitching rotation the way I think they will. But it all remains to be seen. Perhaps the Marlins won't be as strong as I think they could be. I expect the Braves to win the division again, and I think the Mets aren't capable of more than 89 wins -- and that's a stretch in my view.

But right now I don't care. Is this part of what happens during a mid-life crisis? Hard to say. This is my first go-round as far as I'm aware. Perhaps I need spring instead of this crazy, disgusting weather: 58 one day, 28 and snowing the next. Give me a break! I need a vacation like no other time in my life. Not happening yet, however.

Chapter 33: First Draft

I have finished the first draft of my first novel, and I’m fighting my exuberance. I know there’s lots of work left to do, and I still have weeks of work before my initial readers will see a copy. My wife will see a copy before others. By the end of this year, she might read this book three times. She’s an excellent reader who will pick up on the things I’m missing, point out where I’m boring the reader, and show me that I’m telling the story rather than helping the reader see it.

I have written more than 120,000 words, which is probably about 25-30,000 too many for what this story is. Off the top of my head, I recall the Stephen King book, “On Writing,” advises that revision takes the original and cuts back 10 percent. Mine will probably be closer to 25 percent when a couple rounds of revision are complete.

I’m happy to have gotten this far. Yet, I’m aware that this doesn’t mean my book will be bought by a publisher much less grace the shelves of Barnes & Noble, among the hundreds of other titles. This step has not accomplished anything beyond what I’ve described. But, damn, it feels good right now.

Chapter 32.65: Less Than a Week?

I'm starting to get excited. I was closer to completion on the novel than I had realized. Tonight I consolidated two small chapters that were unwritten into one. And when I looked at what was left, I discovered I only had two, perhaps three, chapters left to write. I should be able to do that this week.

I have more than 116,000 words right now and a lot of revision to do, but I'm just talking about the first draft. I expect to cut whole scenes -- perhaps entire chapters -- when I delve into the messy copy I've composed. I will need to add detail and trim the "telling" that pervades too many chapters of the book.

I've recognized themes that will need exploration, minor characters that need to either become notable or die off altogether.

One thing that's hard to describe, however, is the feeling of anticipation when the story seems to be coming together: the end is near. By April I'll be well into revision.

Chapter 32.6: Closing In

Just a few words for those few who care about my novel (other than me, of course). As of close of writing today, I've reached 378 pages. Since my goal was to finish the book in February, it's safe to say that won't be accomplished unless the predicted snowfall is enough to close my office tomorrow and for me to be inspired for the remaining hours that my four or five chapters will entail. More likely is that I'll finish by mid-March. The first draft will be done before Opening Day. I'm just closing up a few remaining threads at this point. The climactic moments have occurred; we're in denouement at this point.

In other comments: Maureen and I were happy to see that Zach Braff won an Independent Spirit Award for "Garden State" this weekend. Aside from sounding like Kermit the Frog onstage, he seemed to handle the accolades well. But he didn't win for "Best First Screenplay." Oh well, better luck next time on that one ;-)

Chapter 32.4: Make Sure She Swallows

Ok, that’s a crass headline – yes, it’s about “that” type of swallowing. So, if frank discussion of incredible lawsuits offends you, go find a Michael Jackson Web site. (Nota Bene: This entry is about a story that annoys me, and it’s possible I’ll end up re-editing the piece later.)

One of the more bizarre lawsuits I’ve ever heard of is being waged in our court system, and now it has made the papers. A man and his ex-girlfriend are in a child support battle over a child who was conceived after oral sex. The surprise pregnancy occurred because she allegedly saved his semen that he’d ejaculated into her mouth.

That’s right. He blew his load in her mouth and she saved it to impregnate herself. Then she sued him for child support. He alleges that they never had penal/vaginal intercourse during their four-month relationship, and he didn’t know about the child for two years; she said he did know. If I’m reading correctly, both these people are doctors – at least they both work in the medical field according to the story I read. (Look it up if you want, but I’m not going to post a link to it. It’s on the wires, appearing in papers on 2/25/05)

In a differently edited version of the same Associated Press story, the woman reportedly claimed that the pain the man felt wasn’t bad enough to warrant a lawsuit and her actions weren’t “truly extreme and outrageous” as he apparently claimed. The circuit court in Illinois where this happened agreed with her and dismissed the case back in 2003. An Illinois appellate court, however, recently ruled for the man. The story also quoted the woman’s attorney as saying “There’s a 5-year old child here ... Imagine how a child feels when your father says he feels emotionally damaged by your birth.”

I am continually amazed at the depravity in this world. How could a person conceive of the scheme of saving a man’s ejaculate in order to get herself pregnant? Moreover, how could a court rule that such an action constituted a “gift,” as the appellate court reportedly determined? I’ve written enough about nonprofit organizations to know this isn’t your typical charitable donation.

If a court is going to allow such ridiculous terms into this context (the terms “gift” and "donor"), then doesn’t the donor have a right to a receipt if this “gift” is to be valued at more than $250? She’s claiming child support of about $800 per month. I think he should have been allowed to know ahead of time that she was going to use his “gift” in this manner. Using her argument, he should have had a right to knowingly choose to donate a major gift. She should have said something before her mouth was full. Did he purchase naming rights for this major donation? If any “gift” is given in good faith to be used in an expected manner – in this case, spit or swallow – how can the recipient hold the donor responsible for the unanticipated third alternative? If someone gave a person a car, should the gift giver be held responsible when the recipient decides to smash it through a store and kill innocent people? If she had placed it in her hair and caused her hair style to get all crazed, would he have been responsible for paying her bill at the hair stylist?

The irony in my mind is that her lawyer actually said something intelligent. There is a living child here. But the lawyer’s question begs another: Imagine how the child feels when he learns his mother deceived his unknowing father into causing the child to be. “Oops” just doesn’t cut it.

This is the opposite of abortion. It might actually be worse, except for the important distinction that a child is alive. Still, this sounds like an insidious attempt to dishonor life. If what the woman is alleged to have done is true – and she wasn’t denying it from what I’ve read – then the man was not intending to get her pregnant. She was clearly not raped and the sex was reportedly consensual. But it’s difficult to call this an unintended pregnancy because she wanted it to happen. I have a lot of sympathy for a woman who made a mistake and who didn’t want to get pregnant. That must be a horribly difficult situation for a woman, and I'm not sure men can fully understand it. But to actually take the ejaculate out of her mouth and put it somewhere that enables it to remain viable takes ... well, that takes balls.

Chapter 32.3: Lights Out for Peter Jennings?

I just saw Peter Jennings’ special report -- UFOs: Seeing Is Believing. What I saw and what I believe is that advertisers don’t care about UFOs. For the first 25 minutes or so of the show I was starting to believe that ABC was going to show the entire program without commercial interruption. Other than a few “house ads” about other ABC shows and a lot of car commercials, many of the commercials were the type of late night crap – shoe stretchers, special spatulas, and one-size-fits all leftovers holders – that made Ron Popeil famous.

The truth out there is that ABC must have had nothing better to do than to air this show. They couldn’t have made much money on it, and they clearly spent a lot. The production quality was excellent. The animation of people’s stories looked like reality; if they didn’t have the “animation” disclaimer on the bottom of the screen, it would have been difficult to distinguish whether or not it was real. In fact, it would have been distracting because the viewer would have looked at the level of detail in the rain-drenched car window and not focused attention on the words being spoken.

I’m not a “UFOlogist” nor have I seen a flying saucer, but as someone who’s watched his share of Discovery Channel, History Channel, Sci Fi Channel, and The Learning Channel programs on the topic, I actually heard some stories that I’d not caught before. Sure, there was the obligatory Roswell item and the discussion of abductions and the psychological trauma they’ve apparently experienced. The interviews with top-notch scientists such as Neil Tyson of the Hayden Planetarium lent a PBS feel of credibility to the report – beyond just having one of the top network anchors actually putting his reputation on the line with what many people consider ridiculous. I was impressed by the debunking of the Project Blue Book PR ploy conducted by the Air Force in the 50s and 60s, particularly the report on the civilian scientific investigator who apparently left the project “a believer.” Yet, an irrefutable answer remains to be told.

Of course there was no new evidence to prove the existence of extraterrestrials or flying saucers. Jennings offered possibilities and showed evidence of hucksters making a buck. They interviewed a man they called the only full-time investigator of UFOs in the country – a guy in Seattle – who works from a small desk surrounded by the tape recordings he’s made of the upset people who call him. They never explained how he could afford to do such work full time, because there clearly is no money in the work. Perhaps some people would pay for an investigation, but when the best answer one’s going to hear is “the results were inconclusive” how much business can one generate?

I applaud Jennings for trying. He went and promoted it on The Daily Show the night before. It’s obvious from that appearance who and where he believed his audience was, and I don’t think the advertising supported his premise. Intelligent, credible witnesses have claimed to see these objects. Intelligent, skeptical people were his target audience. Instead, the ad sales people for ABC could come up with little more than the equivalent of Ronco devices.

Chapter 32.1: Job Well Done

Yesterday I participated in a career couseling event at my alma mater. It's been 15 years since I graduated, and the school has changed a lot. New buildings, new rules, but from what I could tell it still attracted intelligent, active students.

I was energized by their questions, and listening to them ask questions about life in the "real world" made me long for when I was back in school.

I sat on a panel of other liberal arts majors. Hopefully, I gave them a perspective they valued. I know I was happy to offer my perspectives. As someone who hasn't been an instant success (and whether I'm a success now is debateable), I think I had something of value to say. I've driven a school bus, I've bartended, and I've pursued my dreams. What I lack in financial reward, hopefully I've gained in experience and stories.

To those kids preparing to hit the streets, I say good luck. I hope my 60 minutes of participation in your future help.

Chapter 32: More Please

I'm stuck at 360. That's the number of pages I've written so far in my novel. Ideally, it'll be about where the finished product lands, but there's more to write still. I'm in the midst of the climactic chapter, and I'm stuck -- not for what to do next, but looking for time to write. The past week has been non-stop work or freelance (ok, so I watched West Wing on Wednesday too, but I transcribed an hour of interviews too).

Friday night, Maureen and I will watch a play in Hoboken: "You're a good man, Charlie Brown." A friend of ours is playing Lucy. I'm sure she'll be great, even if it is opening night. I hear Arthur Miller's very sick, so perhaps this is the way to recognize his greatness and his contributions to America. Better still would be a play of his. Alas, we're living in a crucible already, do we really need to watch one on stage?

Saturday, I'll be at Lafayette College, sitting on a panel about what liberal arts majors can do other than teach. I suspect that it will seem obvious to college students that a liberal arts major can write, but perhaps not. I'm very much looking forward to the panel and the day, but honestly, I'd rather be working on my novel. I want to hit 370 this weekend, or more. The end is near.

Chapter 31.9: Death of a Champion

Max Schmeling died at age 99. I skimmed through the obituary in the New York Times and soon found myself reading it. I had no idea that this man was such a champion, not merely of boxing but of life.

His friendship with Joe Louis and his quiet dedication to human rights in Nazi-era Germany should be applauded by more people. His defiance of the Nazi power elite to save his marriage and his business partners is remarkable, given the ruthlessness with which the Nazis reportedly ran things. I have never been a devotee of boxing, but I will need to read up on this man.

Chapter 31.8: Honor Your Father

People wonder why our nation is falling behind in education? Well, look at the story in the New York Times about how schools in the south are ignoring the theory of evolution. We all know this is not an isolated event.

Yet, how can it be a science class when the topic of creationism is given more validity than a scientifically supported theory? (And make no mistake of it – creationism or ‘intelligent design’ is at least as "theoretical" as evolution.) By the end of the article, the report noted that some people also doubt the Big Bang, which is also well supported scientifically.

Without a better understanding of the importance of the scientific method, our nation will founder, as a basic method of education and learning gets passed over for reasons that defy logic. This problem will likely get worse in math as well, where the beauty of numbers is often not enough for students to sustain their love without the practicality of strong science classes where they can apply the mathematical and scientific theories.

For those who argue, ‘well prove it to me if you’re so smart,’ I say you should ask your teachers to do it. Find a God-fearing, evolution-believing teacher. They are clearly out there. And have that person teach you so you understand. That is what teachers do.

Why is it that some people don’t recognize that God can be in the details? Evolution is a more intelligent design. It allows for diversity and progress, it enables competition and growth. To me, evolution is better proof that a Supreme Being exists than the concept of Adam and Eve. (So tell me, creationist teacher, who did their children wed?). Minimizing science as though it’s a way to respect God is ignorance.

Honor your father – learn about science.

Chapter 31.6: Giving the Man What He Wants?

The terrible tragedy in Glendale, Calif., troubles me. The initial reports portray a suicidal man who decided to save himself, yet in the process he allegedly showed reckless disregard for everyone on the train. The man is rightfully being held responsible for the (at least) 11 deaths he caused and the couple hundred injuries he inflicted upon a train full of innocents.

The charges this man face make him eligible for the death penalty. I doubt the man will ever make it to trial, much less death row if convicted; he'll likely kill himself first.

The rest of us are left without a clue what the incident means. It would have been just as tragic if he'd stayed in the SUV; he'd be just as dead. Are we to expect some answers from this disturbed man? Will it mean more for his family that instead of killing himself, he killed others and effectively doomed himself? I doubt the usual "we're paying for his trial" argument holds much water, because there'd be investigations and trials regardless of whether he had died in the SUV.

In a way it's almost as tragic as the tsunami, though that horrifying event washed away so much more life that comparisons are hard to draw between the two. The man in the SUV made a couple of conscious, unconscionable choices. If we have learned anything from the tsunami, it is that how we respond matters. That is where the train tragedy leaves me troubled. To me, it's almost like a suicide bomber chickening out but leaving his death vest behind to do its terrible deed. The former teacher in me wants to decry the act, but not the actor -- yet the actor is at fault. It's events like this that strain my ability to care.

Chapter 31.5: Deadlines Approaching

Well, at close of writing tonight, I've hit 334 pages. I like that number; it's like an excellent batting average. I also crept over 100,000 words, which I can't concern myself over yet; there's too much still to write. The next chapter, sequentially, is one of the key chapters in the book, so I might hold off till Saturday to write that one (and move past it for now). I'll have more time and probably more energy. It's a crucial confrontation between father and daughter.

There are other deadlines I'll meet this weekend as well, and I'll need to spend some time in the library. But I still feel good. Calm before the storm? Who cares. I've got work to complete, and I've wasted enough time speculating on the future.

Chapter 31.45: Impassive About the Nominations

Just a quick comment: I'm not overly surprised that the Motion Picture Academy neglected to nominate The Passion of the Christ for any of the most significant nominations it might have received (best picture, best director, best actor). I'm a little surprised it wasn't at least given a nod in best foreign language film, but I don't follow foreign films, so those five might be very deserving.

The movie did not surprise me either, as my Catholic background pretty well indoctrinated me to the beating that Jesus received at the hands of the Romans. It was intense, certainly, but it included much of what I knew from the gospels.

This film snub will likely annoy people, which we'll hear about in the news today, then again around Easter. But the MPA's impassivity strikes me as predictable.

Chapter 31.3: Did You Hear That? Another Candidate Dropped a Hat

Well, Hillary Clinton is all but officially running, staking a claim on the fence between religious voters and women voters. Her position of finding a middle ground between abortion rights and women's right to choose might sound politically sensible, and indeed it might become the winning stance for Democrats, but there will be repurcussions.

I think the realm of "political religion" is as murky as the creme brulle surface of the moon Titan, and probably smells just as bad. Perhaps it will prove Sen. Clinton is willing to tackle tough issues, but why do I feel she'll be backpeddling within a year?

Chapter 31: The Big Dig-Out

The weather this weekend was awful and beautiful. Amid a dead car battery, a violently beaten alarm clock, and a forgotten electric snow shovel (I hesitate to call it a snow blower, but it'll be fine once I remember it exists), the weekend was not what I'd hoped for. Now it's off to work.

A foot or so of snow fell upon our sleepy suburban town this weekend, screwing up (but not altogether cancelling) plans for a Robert Burns Supper on Saturday night -- despite a declared state of emergency. More sleepy in the morning, I was late for a 7:00 a.m. appointment. But the day eventually took shape.

Chalk up the (first?) Blizzard of 2005 to the history drift.