When Two Blogs Become As One…

Some of you may recall that back in the first week of this past December, I wrote a post called “The Devil May Care, But I Definitely Don’t”. In that post, I mentioned that I had started a new blog on WordPress a month earlier, for the purpose of writing erotic short stories and poetry, and also for posting my own original erotic photography.

I also mentioned that I had no intention of promoting my new blog here on Word Play, or linking to it, because I felt that my readership for Word Play would be the wrong audience for my erotic writing and photography. My own personal opinion, which I know is subjective, is that while my writing and photography on the new blog is genuinely erotic, I think that the content is also more sexually graphic than some of my readers who follow Word Play might appreciate, and there’s a real possibility that my readers here would be offended by it.

I still feel it wouldn’t be wise for me to promote my erotic blog here, so again, I won’t be revealing the name of the blog or linking to it here.

So then why am I mentioning the other blog here at all?

I guess that it’s hard for me to not mention it, when it’s been on my mind a lot today, after my most recent erotic post; a photo show of my erotic photography that I posted last night, which was so well received both last night and again today, by other WordPress erotic bloggers.

Here’s a few of my photographs that are more erotically subtle than sexually graphic…



Nude Lovers 7



But it goes much deeper than that, for me… I put a lot of work into selecting and posting my erotic photography, and while doing that, I also did a lot of reflection on the history of my love life, which wasn’t always as happy as it became, after I was fortunate enough to meet my wife Jean, in August of 1987.

This reflection on the less happier years of my love life, gave me some new insight on why things happened the way they did, and why some of my former love relationships were lacking in what both I and my former lovers needed from those relationships, and from each other.

The history of my adult love life began early for me, in 1973 when I was 17 years old, with a 16 year old girl named Colleen. Colleen and I both fell deeply in love, and with a level of complex emotional intensity far beyond our teenage years. Despite our very young ages, Colleen and I didn’t just have sex – we taught each other our first real lessons in how to make love, in a way that was genuinely loving, beyond just sexual attraction, excitement, and selfish physical gratification.


Colleen and I together in 1973. Photo taken by me, using a 35 mm film SLR camera mounted on a tripod, with the shutter set on time delay.

But our love story ended after only one year, when the cruelty of Fate separated us forever, and crushed our hearts.

What happened to end Colleen and I? Her father was a business executive for a large corporation based in Holland, and he took a higher paying position with his company… in Holland. He also took his family with him to live in Holland, and took Colleen away from me forever.

It took me a year to get over the heartbreak of losing Colleen, and at 17 years old, I was binge drinking every weekend, and smoking too much Marijuana for the health and well being of my still developing adolescent brain. While I didn’t consciously know it at the time, I became subconsciously scared of loving another girl or young woman as much as I had loved Colleen. I was scared of losing another lover as truly wonderful as Colleen was for me, and going through that kind of severely excruciating heartache again.

But I still wanted and needed a girlfriend, so I didn’t do what some guys do when their hearts get crushed – I didn’t avoid getting involved in relationships with girls or young women. Instead, without fully realizing what I was doing, or why I was doing it, I avoided the girls and young women who reminded me of Colleen – not just the ones who looked something like her, or who had personality traits somewhat similar to hers, but I avoided getting involved with the girls and young women who were loving and compassionate people.

Because somewhere in my wounded psyche, my emotions were telling me that falling in love with loving and compassionate women, meant being vulnerable to getting badly hurt again, and that was a risk I just didn’t want to take.

Instead, I started chasing the bad girls, who had nothing in common with Colleen, except for their willingness to have sex with me. But with one major difference… Most of the girls and young women I got involved with, after I lost Colleen, understood very little about making love, and they didn’t seem to really care, or want to learn more about it. But they sure did know how to fuck… which was fine with me, since making love meant being vulnerable to the risk of getting my heart broken again.

But my emotions were in a state of internal conflict, because while I thought that having lots of sex was great, I still felt like something that I really needed was missing. I didn’t realize just how much I missed the joy of making love, in the way that Colleen and I had experienced together, when we were teaching each other how to make love, and how to really love each other. I didn’t understand that regaining that joy was worth risking a broken heart again, because even if I had sex every night and day, sex without love could never replace the true joy and healing comfort of making love, while sincerely loving someone and being loved in return.



So I continued to avoid the women who were capable of loving me, and chase the bad girls who loved to fuck, and I ended up getting hurt again anyway, when some of the bad girls fucked me over. But that was my failing, because I had made the wrong choices when I chose to be with them, in the misguided belief that they were the safer choices for me.

In the years since then, I’ve often thought about how there are two popular mythologies that have contributed a great deal to the unhappiness of both men and women in their love lives, and also to their lack of understanding of each other, in a way that drives them apart and causes many men and women to hurt each other, instead of loving each other.

Romance novels promote the myth that bad boys are so much hotter than those boring nice guys, that the bad boys are worth whatever trouble they cause the girls and young women who are attractive enough to get a hot and sexy bad boy’s attention, and then “catch” him. Romance novels also promote the female fantasy that a good woman can change her bad boy, by getting him to give up being bad in the really bad ways, while still being very good, in that bad way she finds so attractive and exciting about him, to begin with.

Obviously, I know that many women don’t buy into this romance novel mythology, but a lot of women have, and it didn’t go well for them.

Playboy promotes the myth for men, that young women who are so perfectly beautiful and astoundingly sexy, that they can disrupt traffic just by swaying their hips and bouncing their large breasts as they stroll down the street, are always what a real man really wants in a woman. Not some far less impressive looking female who’s true beauty shines out from deep within her… No not her! She’ll just set a guy up for wise ass jokes from his friends, when they ask him which animal shelter kennel he rescued her from.

No, what the real man who reads Playboy really wants, is that smokin’ hot and sexy babe, even if her “beauty” exists only as deep and genuinely real as the impossibly perfect airbrushed skin of a Playboy Playmate centerfold photograph. Or even if she has the IQ of a fence post. I mean, cummon guys! Have you ever had great sex from sticking your dick inside a woman’s ear and screwing her brain? Of course not! So who cares if she can think? Even if they’re hot, the smart ones are just more trouble for a guy, because they’re harder to fool, and who needs that kind of extra aggravation, when women are such a pain in the ass to begin with?

While it’s true that I can’t blame either Hugh Hefner or Nora Roberts for the heartache of losing Colleen, I can absolutely blame Hefner for much of what I suffered from one woman in particular, who I first met when I was 19 years old.

Her name was “Delilah” and she looked like a Playboy Playmate centerfold come to life, that first night when she walked into my life, which would never be the same again. I was the perfect mark for “Delilah” twice over, because she was absolutely nothing like Colleen, so she didn’t cause my subconscious to fear her as the source of more heartbreak. So instead of running away from her, I aggressively chased her! Because back when I was 19, I was the man who read Playboy, and Hef had convinced me that a woman like “Delilah” was my ideal woman.

So now, let’s all meet Delilah…


Yes, that’s really her, and yes, I took the photograph. Which I edited out below her bust line before posting her photo here, because the original photo shows all of Delilah, without clothes and nothing left to the imagination. 38 DD x 25 x 36 is all anyone’s imagination needs to know about the rest of Delilah, not shown here.

But I’d be nothing more than a liar if I tried to turn Delilah into a total villain here, and then I made myself look like this great guy who was never at fault during the worst of our very stormy relationship. I’d also be dishonest if I didn’t admit that Delilah was some of the best of times as well as the worst of times in my life, and in unforgettable ways, both incredibly good and equally bad.

So I’m going to take the high road here, and just say that Delilah left me with more emotional scars than I had when we first met. She was my female version of the romance novel hot ‘n sexy bad boy, and I was the male version of the romance novel “good woman” who was sexually blinded by my bad girl, enough to delude myself into believing that I could change her. I couldn’t change her, and enough said.

Did I learn anything from my failed relationship with Delilah? Nope… I had the perfect opportunity to get involved in a new relationship with a young woman who had a bright and sunny disposition, and who was far more like Colleen, than she was like Delilah. She and I were on the edge of getting serious about each other, but we never made it… Why?

Here’s why.

N 3B

I met Natasha, and she was far more beautiful in real life, than in these poor quality pictures that were taken badly by a drunken friend, with a cheap point and shoot camera. But these photos are a couple of the few that I still have of Natasha. I was quite simply blown away by her…

N 4 B

Enough that I wanted to marry her, and spend the rest of my life with her, instead of only the two years that we had together, before it was over.

Natasha was a vast improvement over Delilah. She was not only beautiful; she also had a down to earth friendly and outgoing personality, and she had a great sense of humor. I truly loved her, but she told me early in our relationship, that she didn’t want to get involved in a serious relationship with any guy at that time in her life. I refused to accept that, and once again, I thought I could change her into who I wanted her to be, instead of who she really was. So after a month less than two years together, Natasha decided to break things off with me, completely and permanently.

I guess that it’s not only women who make bad choices similar to romance novel mythology, based upon a willful denial of the reality that is right there in front of their faces. Sometimes guys do it too, and the history of my love life is proof of that.

But at least I finally came to my senses, and I got it right in 1987, when I had enough sense to hold onto this woman, and not screw things up. I knew that she was the right woman for me, just as surely as I knew that I was alive, and she felt the same way about me.

True Joy

And of all the women I was involved with, since I lost my first true Love back in 1973, she was the most like Colleen – only far better… and even better, I didn’t feel like I needed to run away from her.

A1B  My wife Jean and I

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Celebrating the Life and Memory of John Sheridan Sr.

I’ve needed some time away from blogging since my father passed away on December 30th. It was genuinely the best thing that could have happened, both for him and for those of us who loved him. He was diagnosed with dementia over 3 years & 10 months ago, and his mind as well as his personality was almost completely gone a year ago, along with his quality of life. His passing on was more merciful than it was heartbreaking.

My Dad was a highly intelligent man with a very charismatic personality, and a great sense of humor. He accomplished a great deal during his long life, and he also touched and improved the lives of many others with his articulate wisdom, his delightfully quick witted and clever sense of humor, and his sincere compassion for other people, that he shared with both his words as well as his deeds. He continued to live a very full and active life well into his senior years, until the disease of dementia finally so thoroughly destroyed his mind, that it robbed both him and us of his very identity.

The total degradation of his mind and personality was a very long and agonizingly slow process that was far more heartbreaking and tragic for him and those closest to him, than his final liberation from all suffering, that came from the release granted on the morning of his death.

Per his wishes, my father’s body was cremated two days after he passed away. His memorial service was held on Saturday, January 12th. All who attended, agreed that Dad’s memorial was a beautiful and truly moving tribute to his life. My mother contributed the most to the content of Dad’s memorial service, and her thoughtfully artistic sensibilities combined with her deep love of her husband of 65 years made his memorial a very worthy send off for Dad. His memorial included some moments of genuine grace and beauty that I will never forget. Moments that evoked powerful feelings of both happiness and heartache within me and many others there who loved my father.

While Dad never had a daughter of his own, he treated my first and former wife, and also my current wife, as if both women were his own daughters. He made them both feel loved just as much as if he was their father. They loved him just as much in return, and both my ex-wife and my current wife attended his memorial service. It was a somewhat surreal moment for me, when I watched them embrace, and whisper words of comfort to each other for the shared pain of loss they both felt, for the man who had loved them like a second father. My ex-wife and I also embraced, and for that brief moment, all the pain and bitterness of our past no longer existed as we comforted each other with a gesture that felt pure and natural, instead of forced and awkward.

I had not shed any tears for my father, from the morning he passed away on December 30th, until his memorial service two weeks later. My tears finally flowed freely but not profusely, and without sobbing, while singing the first hymn of the service, “Morning Has Broken”. It was one of my father’s favorite hymns, and also one of my favorite songs from the years of my teenage youth, in the version covered by Cat Stevens. Singing that hymn was powerfully evocative for me of the time when during my adolescence, my Dad was teaching me with his words, and by his own life example, how to be a man.


Including contributions from my mother, myself, my wife Jean, and other members of our family, the Minister told the story of my father’s life, skillfully and effectively, in a way that even those who didn’t know him well, were able to gain a sense of who he was.

I was moved to tears again by the music at the end of my father’s memorial service, while a man who is a pianist for the orchestra that plays with the Boston Ballet, played a perfect rendition of “Grand Waltz Eb Op 18” by Chopin. This is music that was very dear to both my mother and father, and it was my mother’s choice to have it played as the postlude for her husband’s memorial service. Mom’s choice was the perfect choice to close out the memorial that was more a celebration of my father’s life, than a mourning of his death.


When the music concluded, over one hundred people who were there, broke into spontaneous applause. It was truly the perfect ending for Dad’s memorial service, and a unique moment that I will never forget, for the rest of my life.


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A Win-Win Situation

I’m in a good mood today, and I’m even feeling well rested after a rare full night’s worth of sleep, so I’m ready to have some fun.

Two adversarial situations that have been serious problems in my life, have suddenly been resolved in a very positive way, and resolved in not only my favor, but for other people as well.

Nope, I didn’t win a lot of money by suing somebody, but I did sue somebody who most definitely deserved it, and with the help of the fine folks at the ACLU, I won!

I didn’t win any money, but I did win the right to speak my mind freely with my writing online, without being personally and privately threatened with the ruination of my life and reputation, by a right wing CEO who hated my frequent and freely expressed opinions, because my opinions didn’t match his own, and too many other people were agreeing with me, instead of agreeing with him.

The other situation is personal, since it involves my family, so I won’t go into detail about it here. Except to say that finally getting this problem resolved has made me and other members of my family very relieved, and very happy! :-)

My good mood has brought out my sense of humor, and also some interesting comments and replies with other bloggers here on WordPress. I’m now going to share some of them with the rest of you.

Blogger # 1: “LOL. Let me first applaud your record-keeping. That’s just impressive. Anytime you want to do my taxes, I’m in.”

Me: “Since I was an English major in college having me do your taxes would be like having Donald Trump give a lecture on the very best new cutting edge trends in Men’s hairstyling.”

Ugh… that was weak and I’m tired, but I gave it my best shot… when it would probably have been better to pass the ball to Helen Keller, who almost always got nothing but net for her three pointers, as long as the basketball was printed with Braille. (A bad Helen Keller joke? Really, Chris?)

That’s it! I’m hauling my tired ass to bed right now! Sheesh! Sorry about that! Lol”

Blogger #1: “I’ve never heard a Helen Keller joke. That takes mad skillz ;) Not to worry, I have a tax guy who just loves to take my money…”

Me: “You’ve never heard a Helen Keller Joke? What… Are you deaf? Just kidding! Lol :-D

I have a tax guy who has done an excellent job for us, for many years. Except that every year when my wife picks up our taxes, he looks at her and says, ‘So you’re still married to that guy, huh?’ Then he shakes his head and says ‘Amazing…’

But I don’t hold it against him, because he doesn’t know the full extent of my ‘talents’ and he never will. Lol :-)”


Blogger #2: “And did you know when Helen Keller has brushed her teeth? She had that Gleam in her eye…
Yeah you’ve written a far better punch line, Mom had a BFA in English. Grrrrrr.
Fear not: I am in possession of a completely worthless BFA in Music Performance. It hangs proudly in the bathroom.
Chris, the only things you have to accomplish in this life are staying alive and dying at an appropriate time. Screw taxes!
Potatoes and Pasta! It’s what for dinner!
No double entendres intended…
She said potatoes heh heh heh”

Me: “Thanks! :-) I liked your Helen Keller punch line, and laughed out loud when I read it. And hey, Music Performance BFA hanging in the bathroom or not, you’re a musical performing star at “Burning Man” which I still have yet to get off my dead ass and go out to attend, even though I know that I’d love it. But maybe 2013 is the year…

Dying at an appropriate time? Okay, I guess I’ll try for that. I also want to pre-record my own eulogy for my own funeral and have them play it at the service, because for just one last time, I want to make my audience die laughing, even though I’m the one who’s really dead!

And for those friends and relatives who have often exclaimed ‘You’d be late for your own funeral!’ because I’ve had a life long problem with tardiness, well I’ll have a special treat for them.

Because I’m going to make arrangements to actually BE an hour late for my own funeral, until I make my grand entrance by having my well embalmed but mannequin like body wheeled up while standing upright on a freight dolly, to the front of the church, and then stood up at the podium, instead of placed horizontal in my casket. My first pre-recorded line will then play, in which I’ll say, ‘Sorry for keeping you folks waiting, and I also want to say that just because I’m dead, I am not going to take this “dying thing” laying down!’

Hey, since you seem like the kind of person who would enjoy it, (meant as a compliment) would you like me to send you an early invitation to my funeral? Just a thought, and if you’re not into it, hey, no problem! Lol :-D”

Postscript: I just suddenly realized that I missed Blogger #2’s amusing quip when she finished her reply with “Potatoes and Pasta! It’s what for dinner! No double entendres intended…
She said potatoes heh heh heh”

How so very much unlike me! It’s moments like these when my wife puts her hand on my forehead to see if I’m running a fever, and I can’t believe that one got by me!

My sincere apologies, Blogger #2! But hey, better late than never, so yes, you did say “potatoes”. To which I now say: But I’d be more impressed if you had said “Great Gazongas!” or “young and firm, roundly ripe melons.” heh heh heh heh ;-)


Blogger # 3 wrote a very funny post that included her amusing recollections of awkward moments in public restrooms.

Here is my comment:

Public restrooms… Reminds me of back in the dark ages when I was 19 yrs old, and in a train station when I had to do #2 real bad. I rush in and the stalls are those infernal creations that won’t let a guy in w/o putting two quarters in the slot to unlock the flippin’ stall door!!! And I had NO quarters!

But I was young and in my prime (as well as very desperate!) so I lept up and grabbed the top of the stall door and flew like flippin’ Superman over the top and down into the place I had to be, swearing like a dock worker as I stuck my landing on the toilet seat.

The guy in the stall next to me was so impressed, that he tried to reach down and under the stall wall between us, to hand me a little love note wrapped around a pen, so I could write him back – but I wasn’t feeling very kind right about then, so instead, I kicked his hand with my steel toed work boot real hard! Instead of “Brokeback Mountain” it was more like “Broken Back of the Hand!” (okay -maybe not quite that bad – but he knew for sure that I wasn’t into it!)

You can have your blog back now, and sorry for the highjack, but you inspired me, cause your poop post is very funny! LOL!” :-D

Postscript: My sincere apologies to gay guys, but please keep in mind that I do have gay friends, some of whom I like far more than a lot of straight guys that I know. Even back when I was 16 years old in high school, one of my best friends was a gay guy who was a brilliant artist, and I hung out with him on a regular basis. It was common knowledge in our high school that my friend was gay, and he took a lot of abuse. But never when I was around, because I wouldn’t tolerate it, and the homophobic straight guys knew that I had broken some noses more than a couple times, when somebody really pissed me off.

That gay guy in the train station just had terrible timing, and if Scarlett Johansson had been in there trying to pass me love notes at that moment, I would have been just as hostile to her advances!

BlondeRight now?! Here?! In this situation??? Get away from me, you twisted blonde headed pervert!!!


Blogger #4 wrote me a comment that I really appreciated, because it was for a post in which for the first time ever, I wrote a cry of anguish and anger, as I wrote about my oldest brother who was killed in Vietnam shortly before Christmas Day, 1969. The post was also about gun violence and my contempt for the NRA and all their like minded buddies.

She wrote:

“Chris, I’m so sorry about your brother John. That is just heartbreaking. That scene you described of witnessing your parents receiving the news is chilling. Every parent’s worst fear. I’m not a fan of war, but at least I can accept that there are guns needed in times of war. I just don’t get why we need these assault weapons back at home? To me, it’s no different than a bomb. And no one is protesting that the government won’t let us have bombs lying around in our basements. What’s the difference? Because one comes with a neat carrying case so that somehow makes it feel domestic?

Kevin’s story is heartbreaking too. What a great friend you were to him. I hope he was able to have a relationship with his son after that.”

My reply was very long, but it was also what I genuinely believe:

“Thanks. I appreciate your sympathy, and after reading your blog, I know that your sympathy is genuinely sincere. Yeah, it really is a parent’s worst fear, and since I’m the father of a wonderful daughter, I am just so grateful that so far, I’ve been spared that horrible heartbreak. But my brother Dan, who is closest to me in age, and also the brother I am closest to, well, he and his wife were not spared that horrible heartbreak when they lost their 14 year old daughter, and in a way far too nightmarish for me to talk or write about. That tragedy came close to Christmas as well, and enough said.

I’m no fan of war either. It’s the people who are the fans of war, who are the most eager to rush us into wars, and often for the worst possible of reasons. No war should ever be celebrated or glorified – not even when a war is fought and won, and it was a war that had to be fought and won, because the consequences of not fighting the war would have been far worse than fighting the war.

But only a blind fool glorifies and celebrates a war – even World War II. The veterans who risked their lives and lost their lives fighting WW II should be honored and we should express our gratitude for what they had the courage to do. The veterans who did the same in Vietnam should be honored and appreciated, even though that war should have never been fought by American soldiers, sailors and airmen. But never blame the veterans for the mistakes of the leaders who sent them to fight a war that was one of the biggest and most needlessly tragic mistakes ever.

War itself should always be recognized as the way humans create hell on earth, and in a mass horror that only those who are in a war, both soldiers and civilians, will ever fully understand. War should never be glorified, because to glorify war is to promote war, and move us closer to the next war, which might be another Vietnam or Bush Jr.’s Iraq war, instead of World War II. I have a seething contempt for war glorifiers, because they are war enablers, and they are potential accessories to the mass mayhem and murder that may result from their glorification of war.

I liked your comparison of people’s perception of bombs compared to assault rifles, and I think you are right on the mark, as well as clever with your rhetorical question that included “neat carrying cases that somehow feel domestic…” That made me smile last night when I read it. :-)

Kevin’s story was and is heartbreaking, and no, he was never able to have a relationship with his son after what happened. Me a great friend? I can be… But I’m also a man with many flaws and failings, who is sometimes not a very nice guy at all, and without a valid reason. But I have had my better moments at times – like the night when I stepped between another close friend and a guy with a large and deadly knife. I had no weapon to defend me, except for my words, and my words were enough that night to convince the man with the knife to put the knife away, and then to walk away.

But no one should ever call me a hero… Ask Elyse, because she knows my blog well enough to know that I have done many life threatening things, and not because I’m a hero – but because I’m crazy! Lol :-) But I’m crazy in a way that has never seriously harmed anyone else, because I reserve that right exclusively for myself! Lol :-)

Thanks for stopping by and for your compassionate and insightful comment. Sorry for my mile long reply, but even though I hardly know you at all, I’m already fond of you, in a fatherly sort of way. I’m looking forward to reading more of your blog, and thanks for reading mine.”

Blogger #4: I think every blog reader appreciates when the writer takes the time to write out such a thoughtful reply — thank you for that!


Yes, I know what more than a few of you, who know my long winded ways all too well, are thinking… But please be kind… not to me, but to her, because this was her very first comment on my blog, and her first exposure to one of my very long replies, and she’ll find out what I’m all about soon enough! Lol  :-)

As I wrap up this post, I’d like to thank Elyse and Teeny in particular, for helping me with their comments and replies, to get through Christmas and this Holiday Season in a much better state of mind than I have in years past.

I’d also like to thank all of my blogging buddies here on WordPress for being without a doubt, the best bunch of people online that I have ever had the pleasure to know.

And Martin my friend… 2013 is going to be a much better year for you n’ me. I promise… and that’s a promise you can count on. You’ll see…

Wishing a very Happy New Year to all of you and yours, my fellow WordPressians! Because you all are truly the very best, and you deserve it!


Posted in Humor, Personal | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 21 Comments

Christmas Day – 1969

With God as my witness, every word of the following post is absolutely true, without any fabrication or exaggeration…

Mid December, 1961: I was five years old on that cold December day, when my Dad took me aside and said “Chris, your mother is very sick, and she’s going to need to spend some time in the hospital so the doctors can help her get better. So tomorrow, you and I are going to drive to go see Aunt Carol and Uncle Van, and you are going to live at their house so they can take care of you, until Mommy gets better.”

Dad didn’t tell me all the details, but my mother had advanced acute Meningitis, she was in critical condition, and she wasn’t expected to live. Thank God that she did live, but she wasn’t able to take care of herself or anyone else, for six weeks.

So I lived with Aunt Carol and Uncle Van for the next six weeks in a suburb of Buffalo, New York. My Aunt Carol loved me like a second mother, and Uncle Van was a really cool guy who was an avid outdoorsman and a hunter with a large gun collection. He let me watch him reload the ammunition for his .30-06 Deer rifle, as he used a special vise to re-prime the brass shells, load them with gun powder and insert a shiny new copper bullet into each round. He also gave me a harmless blank round that I kept, and I still have to this day.


While it’s true that later on in my life I had my own guns, and by the time I was 18 years old I was a skilled and highly accurate marksman who won a target shooting competition, I never became a hunter.

Because I have never been able to understand why anyone would want to shoot and kill a magnificent animal like this one.

B4- Moose2

I’d rather shoot them with my camera, like I shot this Moose in North Conway, New Hampshire.

However, I still respect hunters who are well trained and who hunt safely, the way that my Uncle Van did. But I have no use for today’s gun crazed NRA, who with its millions of dollars has either bought off or politically intimidated Congress, resulting in a state of totally dysfunctional gun laws and gun law enforcement, and enabling the mass murder of small school children in Newtown, Connecticut.

And while I didn’t vote for him in 1992, I had a lot of respect for former President George H. W. Bush Sr. when he resigned from the NRA in 1995, because of its statements that agents of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms are “jackbooted thugs and Nazis” who harass gun owners, and want to “attack law-abiding citizens”.

george_h_w_bush                               This George Bush… not his idiot son, George W. Bush Jr.

In his letter of resignation he sent to the NRA, Bush Senior wrote:

(Your statement) “slurs a wide array of government law-enforcement officials, who are out there, day and night, laying their lives on the line for all of us… (and) is a vicious slander on good people.”

I genuinely respected Bush Senior for taking a stand against the astoundingly ignorant and crazed fanaticism of the NRA, and I respected him a hell of a lot more than this moron, who is still an NRA member, and one of it’s biggest public promoters…

ted_nugentRight wing Rock Star (?) and self confessed sex addict Ted Nugent, who recently said “I’m beginning to wonder if it would have been best had the South won the Civil War. Our Founding Fathers’ concept of limited government is dead.”

Yeah, right Ted… It would be just fucking great if the South had won the Civil War, and an entire culture of racist white people could still buy, sell, own, whip, mutilate, rape and even kill black people, without any limits and with the full protection of the law of the Confederate States of America. It would be just wonderful to still have a corporate CEO’s wet dream of a work force – human slaves without any human rights, that can be worked to death without that terrible and burdensome overhead of having to pay them any money.

Ted, our Founding Father’ concept of government isn’t dead… but it’s true meaning is way over your head, because your head is brain dead!!!

It’s true that I used to own a few guns when I was younger, but now I own only one gun. It’s a Remington Model 870 12 gauge pump-action shotgun, that I can load with buckshot shells, only if I ever needed it to defend my wife, myself and my home, in the highly unlikely event that our home was invaded by violent criminals.

Remington 870 Express

There was one time over 30 years ago, that I did need my shotgun to defend the life of my best friend at the time, Kevin, who was getting increasingly frequent phone calls of death threats from his wife’s criminal ex-boyfriend. His wife’s ex had a long history of violence, and he had just been released from a Massachusetts maximum security prison.

After Kevin got four death threat calls from this criminal sociopath in one night, I went to Kevin’s apartment and sat up all night with him,  sitting in a chair with my shotgun in my lap, while we watched TV. When the phone rang, this time I picked it up and brought the receiver to my ear, while holding my Remington in my other hand.

“I’m going to fuck you up the ass, and then I’m going to kill you, Kevin.” said a dark and malevolently evil voice.

“This isn’t Kevin.” I answered, my voice in a low monotone almost completely devoid of all emotion, but full of deadly intent. “This is Kevin’s best friend.” I continued. “Do not call here ever again, and do not come here, because I’m holding a Remington 870 12 gauge shotgun in my other hand, loaded with buckshot shells, and if you do come here, I will not hesitate to blow a hole the size of a basketball in your chest.”

Then for added emphasis, I braced the stock of my shotgun on my hip, as I held the receiver of the phone close to the pump, and I pumped a 3″ shell into the chamber, the pump-action making that unmistakably recognized and rapid “sheck-sheck” sound… When I brought the receiver back up to my ear, I heard only silence, because the sicko had hung up without another word spoken.

He didn’t call again that night, or any other night… Instead, I immediately called the police right after the psycho-sicko hung up on me, so there would be an official police report made of the incident and kept on record.

I’d like to be able to say that was the end of the threat once and for all, for my best friend Kevin, but the truth is that three weeks later, Kevin came home from work, only to find his apartment empty of almost all furniture and valuables, and his wife along with his two year old son, gone… Because she had willingly run away with her criminally deranged ex-boyfriend, and she never came back.

Sometimes this life just really sucks…

But that was the only time in all of my 56 years of life, that I ever needed a gun to deter a death threat, and nothing even remotely close to what happened that night, has ever happened again.

But I did not need an assault rifle that night, to help defend my best friend. In all honesty, if I was ever in that type of situation ever again, I’d rather have my shotgun than any assault rifle, since at close range, my shotgun is far more instantly deadly, the instant the trigger is pulled. People have actually survived being sprayed by bullets fired from an assault rifle… No one ever survives a shotgun blast of buckshot to the head, gut or chest.

The advantage that an assault rifle does have over a shot gun, is that the shooter can kill far more people much faster, with more accuracy from a greater distance… So why is it that civilians really need to own assault rifles again??? To go deer hunting? Don’t make me laugh! For self defense? From whom? A military platoon armed with AK-47s?

Or are the civilians who are the most obsessed with owning assault rifles and other multi-round clip rapid fire semi-automatic and automatic weapons, also obsessed with the incredibly ignorant and bat shit crazy delusion that they need to defend themselves from the US Feds, armed with M4 assault rifles?

Anyone who really believes that, is so ridiculously stupid and deranged, that they are the last people who should ever be allowed to own any kind of semi-automatic or automatic weapon. Because you are the people who are fucking nuts!!! And it’s the fucking nuts who are shooting down innocent men, women, firefighters, high school students, college students, and all those little kids in Newtown! NOT the Feds!!!

And I don’t want to hear about your moronic and distorted version of your 2nd amendment right of the people to keep and bear arms! Because you always conveniently ignore that our Founding Fathers put into writing in that second amendment, these first four words:

A well regulated militia…  

being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the People to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.”

The National Guard is a well regulated militia! Oh, but the National Guard is controlled by the Feds, right? WRONG!!!

News Flash here, for all you “states righters”! 

Although National Guard units may be called upon to serve in times of war, the Guard is not a branch of the United States Armed Forces, and U.S. state governors control The National Guard.

State police swat teams are a well regulated militia! They are also controlled by U.S. state governors.

Ted Nugent? YOU are not a well regulated anything! You are a freaking idiot who is just as obsessed by “gun porn” as you are obsessed by being a proudly self proclaimed sex addict!

Tea Partiers? YOU are not a well regulated militia! You are the equivalent of all the inmates in the world’s biggest insane asylum being turned loose, and then all getting together to form a fanatically irrational political party who collectively claims to hate Federal taxes, while grid-locking Congress to the point that YOU are going to be the ones responsible for one of the biggest Federal tax increases in decades, this coming January 1st!!!

And all you guys running around in the woods, wearing camouflage uniforms and carrying guns in states like Michigan and yes, also New Hampshire?

YOU are not a well regulated militia! You are a bunch of grown men who have nothing better to do with your lives than run around in the woods like a bunch of little 8 year old boys pretending to be army soldiers! Yeah, I know that you carry real guns loaded with real ammo… but if you ever got into a real firefight with a real well regulated militia, you wouldn’t last a day!

So here’s my message to all you NRA-ers who think that the only good gun control is no gun control, and your twisted and wrong interpretation of the second amendment gives you the right as American civilians to carry assault rifles, and own enough semi-automatic and automatic weapons and ammo to stock an armory…

You want to play with assault rifles? Then those of you who aren’t too fat, old and stupid to do it, go join the U.S. Marine Corps, or the U.S. Army! Or maybe just the National Guard or the Army Reserves… Cause then when you carry an assault rifle, you’ll also shoulder the responsibility of defending our nation from our enemies, and you might even get to use your assault rifle to shoot at other guys who also have assault rifles, who are shooting back at you!

It’s much more of a challenge than gunning down defenseless animals, or shooting little kids in classrooms…

Be a real man and grow a pair! Be like my oldest brother, John Sheridan Jr., who in 1969, enlisted in the USMC and volunteered for combat duty in Vietnam, because he believed that it was the right thing to do, and he wanted to serve his country.

He left us in February of 1969 for a one year tour of duty, and on Christmas Day of 1969, two guys in dress uniforms showed up at our house to tell us that John Sheridan Jr. would never be coming back to us again, alive.

I can still hear my mother screaming as she fell down and collapsed on the living room floor, and I can see my father helplessly trying to comfort her, as his own tears streamed down his heartbroken face…

Just like my own tears are streaming down my face right now, as I finish writing this sentence… only my tears are burning hot with anger!!!

This video in the loving memory of my brother, John Sheridan Jr., who had the courage to carry an M-16 assault rifle into combat in 1969, and who made the ultimate sacrifice for an ultimately lost cause…


And again, because this message can never be repeated enough… please listen to this public service announcement. It’s vitally important, and people’s lives literally depend upon this message being heard, and then acted upon as soon as possible.



Posted in Personal | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 24 Comments

Feeling Left Behind and Out in the Cold? This One’s for You.

This post is for all the people out there, who for whatever reason, have been left behind by Christmas Eve tonight and the whole Christmas – Holiday Season trip in general. I absolutely understand, because in my own way, I am one of you…

In the last year and 24 days, I’ve written 138 posts here on WordPress, and here is a guide to some of the ones that I think you might enjoy tonight.

Thank Gawd It’s OVER!!!

Take heart, all ye who are feeling cruelly oppressed and depressed by the Holiday Season! Because just as it came to an end last year, this Holiday Season will soon be over too!

Adventures in Chat – Part Two “Much Better Than Just Dancin’ with Myself”

This is raunchy adult humor, so if you are offended by that sort of thing, then please skip this one. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this true story, which is proof that my wife may be one of the most patient women on the planet, for being okay with me posting this one…

I Was a Child Groom

Not raunchy at all, but a very short and sweet post about the innocence of early childhood.

Ball Room Dancing Disaster!!!

A PG rated humorous take on the embarrassments of early male adolescence.

Embarassing Accident!

A humorous crowd pleaser that most people will enjoy, without being offended by it.

Actual Newspaper Headlines

Tired and worn down by all the Holiday Season Bullcrap? Then read this one, because there is NO mental heavy lifting required here.

Joyously Intimate Revelation

My shortest WordPress post ever! And those of you who are familiar with this blog, know that this is nothing short of miraculous!!! Lol :-) BUT… it’s also very erotic… in a genuinely heartfelt way, without any attempt to be funny.

Sugar Plump Fairy

A humorous sight gag from last year’s Holiday Season.

Viagra For Women

Guys? You might want to take a pass on this one… Gals? This one is most definitely for you! Lol ;-)

Man Drinks Extra Strength 5 Hour Energy Shot – Writes Hyperactive and Annoying Post on WordPress

Are you a woman who may have wondered what it’s really like to live with me? Well then read this, and you won’t wonder anymore, because you will know without a second thought ever again, that you’d never want to live with me!!! ;-) And yes, please feel free to go ahead and tell me that you already came to that conclusion a long time ago, because I won’t be the least bit surprised, or offended! Lol :-)

Dissing V-Day in a Humorous Way

A humorous antidote for that other holiday that often leads the league in bumming people out…

Most Embarrassing First Date

Another almost guaranteed to tickle the funny bone of the masses, humorous crowd pleaser – but don’t thank me, thank Jay Leno. But instead of thanking me or Jay, maybe you could send me 1/100th of Jay’s annual income. What’s that? You say that I’m guaranteed to get payment in full, on the 12th of Never? No problem… I’m used to it! Lol

The 30 Day Challenge

My rather eccentric answer to “tell us all about yourself” chain letter style blog posts…


What happens when a guy drinks enough coffee to give an elephant a serious case of the jitters??? Read this one and find out!


Well, that’s 14 posts, which is more than enough, and written by a guy for whom too much has never been enough! (with a history of the mixed results of a lifetime lived according to this somewhat questionable philosophy… lol)

Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed it or at least parts of it, because my intent here is a sincere attempt to cheer up those of you who could use it tonight and tomorrow, and the rest of the way, until the heartbreak and horror of the 2012 Holiday Season is over!!! Good night and I hope you all find some happiness in humor, whether here, or anywhere else you can find it.


Posted in Humor, Personal | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

OH NO!!! The Rolling Uglies Are Back AGAIN!!!

As some of you may know, a certain Rock ‘n Roll band of geriatrics who have been around since 1962, are back on tour again now in late 2012. These old geezers have been doing this for 50 years now, which is proof that The Rolling Stones will continue to get up on stage and play as long as they can still breathe, and lots of people will still pay expensive ticket prices to go see them.

I have a love/hate relationship with the Stones. At various times, the Stones have been the best of times and the worst of times for me, to paraphrase another English guy Charles Dickens, who if he was alive today, he would be 200 years old. Which is only slightly older than Jagger and Richards are. Or at least Mick and Keith look like they could be 200 years old these days.

Okay, now maybe that’s a slight exaggeration, but check out the following:

Jagger Prime2

Mick Jagger in his prime, circa 1970.

And Jagger now, in 2012.



Keith Richards in 1969

keith 1969ab

My wife Jean admitted to having quite a crush on Keith, back in the day.

But maybe not so much now…

Keith 2012



Charles Dickens in 1868.

Sorry Mick & Keith, but Dickens at around your age looked a hell of a lot better than you do these days.

But since it’s not very nice for a 56 year old young guy like me to be so mean to the elderly, I will (temporarily) stop bashing the Stones for looking like fossilized stones… The following video is an example of one of the better times during my love/hate relationship with The Rolling Uglies, who long ago used to represent that “a rolling stone gathers no moss” but now in 2012, Jagger’s face gathers more wrinkles than an old man’s scrotum.

Those of you who aren’t Stones fans can skip all the videos here, and just read the post. Or go read someone else’s post… That’s cool with me, and hey, no hard feelings! :-)

The song in the video “Live With Me” is the first track on a tape I made at around 2:00 AM on a very early morning after a long and late night of romance with Lucy in the Skies with Diamonds, in 1978. I woke up the next day at around 2:00 in the afternoon, and I had completely forgotten about making the tape, until I found it in my tape deck. When I played it, I was delighted to discover that while in my very altered state of consciousness the night before, I had put together a great mix of some of my all time favorite Stones tunes, by recording them in a random but very effective selection from my extensive collection of Rolling Stones vinyl LPs.


“Live with Me” was followed on my tape by “Let it Bleed”


My very first memory of hearing The Rolling Stones was in 1965, when “(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction” was a big hit. The song was also very controversial at the time, because of lyrics such as:

“I can’t get no satisfaction
I can’t get no girl reaction…

And I’m tryin’ to make some girl
Who tells me baby better come back later next week
Cause you see I’m on a losing streak
I can’t get no, oh no, no, no!…”

Compared to some of the truly obscene song lyrics of today, it’s almost hard to imagine that back in 1965, lots of parents were really up in arms about lyrics like “I can’t get no girl reaction… And I’m tryin’ to make some girl…”  My, how times have changed!

But although I liked “Satisfaction”, the first Stones song to really grab me by the ears and shake me with a major rush of adrenalin, was “The Last Time” which was also a big hit in 1965.


If you listen to nothing else in this entire post, please listen to this public service announcement. It’s vitally important, and people’s lives literally depend upon this message being heard, and then acted upon as soon as possible.


While searching for a video of “The Last Time” I had no idea that I was going to find this message, but when I did, I had to include it here.

When I was 14 years old, there was another Stones song I vividly remember being so thrilling that it gave me chills while hearing it, even though I’d heard it many times before. It was “Sympathy for the Devil” – on the night that I got to tag along with my 19 year old brother and his friends for a Saturday night adventure that literally included sex, drugs and Rock ‘n Roll for all of us…

We were listening to the recording studio version, but however much my 14 year old adolescent excitement was jacked up to a fever pitch while hearing it that night, in the years since, I’ve come to like the live version the Stones performed in 1969 at Madison Square Garden in NYC much better. It features some great guitar work from Keith Richards and Mick Taylor on a night when they were both really hot!


So during my love/hate relationship with The Rolling Stones, what has been the down side for me?

The Stones have an infamous history of playing some truly horrible live shows, mostly back in the mid to late 1970s. There were nights when Mick & Keith were both guilty of showing up for a concert so drunk and drugged out of their skulls, that when they tried to play the great Rock ‘n Roll they were famous for, they failed spectacularly. When their seriously impaired condition was combined with no attempt to do any pre-show sound checks or proper mixing, the Stones sounded so bad that sometimes it was hard to recognize what songs they were attempting to play.

What pissed me off even more, was that Jagger made it obvious by things he said publicly, that he really didn’t give a fuck what anyone thought of the worst of their shows. He acted like it was still a great privilege for people to see him “perform” no matter how bad his performance was.

This was frustrating as hell for people like me, who knew just how good the Stones could really be, on a night when they decided to show up and play the great live music they were truly capable of, when they weren’t out of their heads, and they made the effort to perform at their very best. Check out this video of the Stones live in 1972, playing “Love in Vain.”


But in 1978 I was still delighted when the Stones released their album “Some Girls” because I thought it was some of their best music in years, and I loved it. But I did NOT love it at all, when The Rolling Stones went on tour in 1978, and suddenly decided to jack their ticket prices up to $75.00 a ticket for seating in huge arena Rock venues. This was at a time when ticket prices cost $20.00 or less to see and hear some of the greatest Rock bands and solo performers to ever perform live in concert.

I thought that the sky rocketing prices for getting into a Stones concert in 1978 was nothing less than disgusting and greedy price gouging, and I refused to pay $75.00 for a ticket to a Stones show. But I guess that I must have been one of the few people to boycott the Stones, because the entire 1978 “Some Girls” arena Rock tour sold out, down to the very last available seat.

Even worse, the Stones also sold out again as musicians, when no less than “Rolling Stone” magazine reported that more than a few of the Stones’ performances in 1978 weren’t very good. In fact, they sucked so bad in Dallas, that the huge crowd who paid $75.00 a head to get in to see The Rolling Stones, starting booing them when the Stones sounded like shit.

Jagger’s response was to kick the “Rolling Stone” reporter off the tour, for publicly ratting out his band for their shameful shows, and then Mick threatened to sue “Rolling Stone” for using his band’s name. Which came to nothing when “Rolling Stone” was quick to remind Jagger it was common knowledge that the original founder of the Stones, Brian Jones, named the band after a song by Blues great Muddy Waters, called “Rollin’ Stone”, that was recorded back in 1948.

But the final insult and outrage for people like me, came when almost all of the big name Rock bands and performers soon began charging $75.00 and up for tickets to their concerts, after seeing the massive financial success of the “Some Girls” tour, even though it was frequently an artistic failure.

Which is why I will always have a love/hate relationship with The Rolling Stones, and however much I love some of Jagger’s best efforts, I will never like Mick the little prick for his overblown and arrogantly huge ego, and his often petulantly childish and obnoxious personality. And why I will continue to have fun at Jagger’s expense, by making fun of his increasingly ancient looking face…


Jagger young

Jagger way back when…


Mick Jagger

Jagger fossilized…

I wonder if he’s feeling any sympathy for the devil, now that time is no longer on his side, and he really can’t get no satisfaction, cause his looks have been shattered, and some girls no longer want to start him up like they used to. Many women don’t miss him, and he must feel like yesterday’s papers when all his love is in vain. It’s enough to make a grown man cry, and not for the last time, now that Jagger looks so much older, and much better with his face hidden under cover of the night.

(There are references to ten different Stones songs in the paragraph above.)

But… now that I’ve got that little rant out of my system, there’s still all that great Stones music that I still love to listen to, to this very day. Also on the plus side, I finally ended my boycott of Stones ticket prices in 1990 for the “Steel Wheels” tour and I was rewarded when I saw and heard The Rolling Stones play one of the ultimately best concerts of my entire life. Just don’t ask me what I paid for a pair of seats, because I’m not tellin’, except to say that it was a hell of a lot more than $75.00 a seat! But after swallowing hard, when I put that very large dollar amount on my credit card, it was worth it… BIG time!

I’m suddenly reminded of a very bad day I was having at work, when everything was going wrong, and even my favorite Rock radio station was playing an endless stream of crap almost all morning long. Until… suddenly the DJ played this song, and the opening electric guitar riff instantly felt like my blessed salvation from oncoming insanity, as it sliced right through all the bullshit that was played before, and vaporized it all away into nothingness…


The Rolling Stones… sometimes I can’t live with them, but I’d rather not live without them. I know that there’s a chance I will live long enough to see the day when Mick, Keith, Charlie Watts and Ronnie Wood no longer play any more live shows, or record any new music. But even when that day comes, I’ll still have the best of 50 years worth of some of the greatest Rock ‘n Roll ever played, and I’ll keep on listening to it, when I’m in the mood to hear it.

Because I know… it’s only Rock ‘n Roll… But I like it, like it, Yes I do!



Posted in Adventure, Humor, Personal | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

The Heartbreak and Horror of Christmas

I’ve been lost in my annual “Oh My God! It’s the Holiday Season!” depression again, as the heartbreak and horror of Christmas draws near. I’ve been feeling too down and out to write a post of my own, or to read anyone else’s posts here on WordPress for 10 days now.

But today, I just happened to log onto WP and when I looked at my most recent search terms, I saw this one:

“the female the Lord has for me to marry naked”

That isn’t just a search term, that’s a prayer of desperation from some poor love lorn guy who is so sad and lonely, that he has been reduced to searching Google for a sign from the Lord, that somewhere out there, there really is a female just for him, that he can marry and be naked with. I really feel sorry for the guy, and I sincerely hope that his prayer is answered soon, and his Google search for love and naked marriage is successful.

Hey, at least his intentions are honorable, since he made it clear that he wants to marry the female the Lord has for him to be naked with, instead of just wanting to… well, you know what most guys want…

Although when a guy asks the Lord for help to find his very own female who is willing to get naked with him, it’s probably a good idea for him to mention to the Almighty, his intention to marry his female as soon as God helps him find her, and she is willing to say “I do”. I would also suggest that he might want to let the Lord know that he is willing to wait until after the wedding, before getting his female naked… since reading the Bible reveals that God is impressed with that sort of thing, and it might get Him in a more helpful mood to help the guy find his female sooner rather than a lot later. Unless the guy is a devout Unitarian nudist and literally planning on marrying his female naked at an all nude Unitarian wedding. God seems to like the Unitarians well enough, even with their often unconventional ideas about how worship Him, so I think that He would be okay with that.

Which actually makes a lot sense when you think about how much money this would save by not blowing a lot of cash on a wedding gown, tuxedos, and those often gawd awful, never to see the light of day again bridesmaid dresses!

nude wedding use                      Maybe not as crazy an idea as it first may seem, but in fact, very cost effective. 

But this online cry of desperation from some 21st century Adam for the Lord to help him find his very own Eve, became the genesis of my realization today that I am a very fortunate man in some vitally important ways. Even if I do suffer a lot from depression during the Holiday Season…

It happens to me every year, and I wish that wasn’t true, but it’s been my reality for many years now.


Me at age three – Christmas, 1959

Okay, my heartbreak and horror of Christmas syndrome didn’t start that early for me, but after it began later in my adult life, it has never stopped since.

Actually, the kid in that photo looks a lot like me at age three, on Christmas Eve of 1959, when Dad was changing a burned out bulb on the lowest string of lights on our Christmas tree. Fascinated by everything my Dad did, I watched his every move. So when he moved away from the empty light socket to reach for another bulb, in less than 5 seconds I reached for the lowest hanging string of lights, and impulsively stuck my little index finger into the empty light socket. I shrieked my little head off as 120 volts of electrical current instantly zapped my finger with a jolt of painful sensation that fired straight up to the pain nerve receptors in my brain, and caused my eyes to go wider than a pair of golf balls as my face turned almost as red as the Christmas light my Dad was trying to replace!

But this early childhood experience has nothing to do my current day dread of Christmas, and it wasn’t nearly as bad as the time during the previous Summer when I “patted” the burner on the kitchen stove, because I really liked that very pretty bright orange glowing color. I screamed louder than an air raid siren, and some of my mother’s very pretty orange red hair instantly turned grey. All of Mom’s pretty orange red hair turned prematurely grey by the time I was ten, and both of my Aunts often said that I was a “difficult” child. But I think that my two older brothers also deserve some of the credit, whatever the rest of my family has to say about it.



Just like many kids, I was really into the whole Christmas trip from an early age. Why not? I had a relatively happy childhood, and for Christmas, I had all the benefits and none of the responsibilities. All I knew was that on Christmas morning, I would wake up to a bunch of colorfully wrapped presents under the Christmas tree, with toys inside for me! What kid wouldn’t love that?

Of course, I would then have to defend my Christmas toys from my two older and bigger brothers, who believed in Natural Selection. Since they were both bigger and stronger than me, my brothers believed it was their natural right to select the best of my Christmas toys and take them away from me.

But I still always fought back, and the resulting Christmas morning riot in our living room had to be quickly and effectively stopped by Dad, who didn’t want a repeat of that Christmas morning when one of our brawls knocked over the Christmas tree, breaking a nearby window when my biggest brother fell through it, and the Christmas tree lights shorted out in a shower of sparks that set the curtains on fire.

But Dad was a very tough man, and all of his hair didn’t turn prematurely grey until all three of us were old enough to drive.

Even back when I was 16 years old, I understood how difficult it was for both of my parents to raise three boys like me and my brothers. So for Christmas in 1972, I got both Mom & Dad very special matching gifts as an expression of my sincere gratitude.


red again2   Just Men

It was also a sincere expression of my 16 year old wise assitude as well…


E 3                                                          Me at 14 years old in 1970 and still enjoying Christmas.

Sometimes I think that the combined childhood and adolescent history of my brothers and I would make a very compelling argument for more cautious family planning, and my own history in particular, should be a serious warning for parents to not risk tossing the chromosomal DNA dice a third time, after getting two very difficult boys, with the hopes of getting a girl. Instead of getting the much hoped for daughter, my parents got a third son who was even more difficult than the two preceding boys.

As soon as I was old enough to walk, I had the climbing ability of a chimpanzee, and there was no such thing as something safely out of my reach. My mother knew that the only way to keep me away from dangerous things was to hide them from me, where I could never find them. Which still didn’t stop me from riding my tricycle down a full flight of stairs and crashing my head hard on the concrete floor of our basement. But… in spite of my Mom’s horror and all her most fervent prayers, I lived… and I made a complete recovery, despite what some of my relatives say, because my head injury had nothing to do with anything, since I was born that way to begin with.


Picture of me before the accident…


umax450                                Picture of me after the accident.

I think I turned out just fine, with no permanent damage done to my head. Or at least not to my little head… Lol ;-)

No, instead, my little head did some permanent damage when I was 22 years old and I accidentally impregnated my girlfriend, who became my first wife, and our union produced the daughter that my mother fervently hoped for, but never got to have. My first wife became my ex-wife six years later, but I hold no blame against her since I know that our faults were equally to blame for the failure of our marriage.

1982 My first wife and my little girl in 1982, when life was still good for us as a couple, and as a family.

Hey Mom? In spite of what I’ve heard you say so many times, I have proof from my own parental experience that girls are not easier than boys. Girls just present a whole range of different problems than boys do. Little girls really are full of sugar and spice and everything nice… until they turn 13 and then all hell breaks loose!

Which doesn’t mean that I don’t love my little girl dearly, who now at age 32, has grown into a fine young woman, in spite of inheriting or learning by example many of both her mother’s and my own most “difficult” personality traits. This is one of many reasons why I’m all the more proud of the mature and well adjusted young woman my daughter has become, and also proof that she got some of our better traits as well.

So why do I get a severe case of the Holiday Season down and out blues every year, until the heartbreak and horror of Christmas is safely behind us once again for another year?

I do have my reasons, and trust me when I say that you don’t want know, because if I told you, I know that you’d understand all too well why this time of year always gets me down and out.

So rather than me spreading my holiday season blues, when I know lots of other people suffer from the same problem just as much as I do, and some folks have it far worse… let me leave you with something positive instead.

Man, I really hope this works… And of course it’s not working, cause “tis the effing season!” But let me try again…

And over half an hour later, I think it works!

In any case, Happy Holidays to all you WordPressers, and a very Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it! :-)

Click on this to play, and hopefully it will work for you!

The Snowdog


Posted in Humor, Personal | Tagged , , , , , | 9 Comments

I Hate Raking Leaves! But I Love “Pairs Sex Racing”

I’m sitting here thinking about all the posts from my favorite bloggers I haven’t read yet, that are piling up faster than falling leaves in my backyard in Autumn. So why am I writing this post instead of catching up on reading and commenting on your posts? That’s an excellent question, and I do have an answer.

It’s because I hate raking leaves in Autumn, and I would rather do just about anything else than rake up leaves into big piles and bag them!

Wait a minute… falling leaves piling up in my backyard was only just an analogy I used, to describe how much the unread blog posts from my favorite bloggers have piled up. Your unread blog posts are not really fallen leaves in my backyard, so I don’t have to rake them and bag them up! I only need to read them, and not rake them!

I guess I was just confused, but now that I’ve got the tangled up fish line of neural pathways in my brain straightened out, this changes everything!

Now I can stop writing this post, and start reading and commenting on your posts! I’m so glad we got this issue resolved!!!

In fact, now that I know I don’t have to do any insufferably boring and mind numbing raking of leaves for what seems like forever, and all I need to do is catch up with reading and commenting on your posts… I’m so happy that I’m going to spend this entire week not posting, but reading and commenting instead, until I catch up on all of your unread posts!

Thank you all so much for not making me rake leaves, and I love all of you for it! Each and every one of you!!!

Thank you! Thank you!! Thank you!!!

Wow… I don’t think I’ve felt this so incredibly elated, since my girlfriend and I won that race back in 1975!

What race was that, you may wonder? Well I’ve got a couple pictures of that race, which I have kept and treasured for over 37 years now. So rather than trying to explain what kind of race it was, let me just show you the pictures of the race instead.



The 70s

Just before the start of the race. My girlfriend and I are the second team to the left of the first lane in the foreground.

The 70s2

She and I practiced every day, three times a day, for six weeks before the day of the race, and we were ready to give it our very best effort. We were so fast and far ahead, that the race wasn’t even close! We blew our competition away, leaving them with nothing but grass stained knees and butts to show for it.

Some of you may have never realized that sex can be an organized and highly competitive sport, since it’s highly unlikely you’ve ever seen this kind of sports competition at your local high school. Although colleges with fraternities could be another story… Those frat boys and the girls who party with them will do just about anything when they get really drunk!

I was part of an effort to make “Pairs Sex Racing” an Olympic sport, but the International Olympic Committee failed to see my vision, and that was their loss, as well as the loss of the entire world, when denied the thrilling excitement, the suspenseful drama, as well as the graceful beauty of “Pairs Sex Racing”.

Olympicspairs sex racing2

Fools! You could have made a fortune in television advertising revenue!!!


Posted in Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

Mission Impossible – Or is It?

I’m trying to post from my mother’s PC… Getting my mother’s PC to do almost anything right, is like expecting a minor miracle.

And getting it to do three things right, all at the same time, is like expecting Gov. Rick Perry of Texas to remember all three things he’s trying to name during a debate! The odds are not good…

But since I’m stuck here with no other option, I’m going to try and do the impossible anyway. Because I’m stubborn, and probably stupidly stubborn. Anyway here goes:



This article must be about the literacy program for newspaper journalists and editors. But hey, the program is showing improvement! Just yesterday, they finally learned to spell Utah correctly!



I didn’t think that women called it that… and how can she do it with both hands up in the air? I’m confused.



And in other news, bugs walking around with legs are walking bugs. I guess wonders never cease. I also wonder how some people ever got jobs writing for newspapers.



Deal with it, puny little Republican white guys!!! Woody Allen was right when he said that “It’s men that really suffer from penis envy.” Except he didn’t add that penis envy is much worse for tiny pin prick dicked GOP white men!!!



And the nearest Boys’ schools are very excited!!!



Since this writer stumbled over the obstacle she wrote about, I guess she should know… Or maybe it was her editor. (This came from The Washington Post?!) Lol



Funny! :-) But kinda scary too, because this was a quote from a Republican state senator from Colorado Springs, who is a woman! I wonder if she’s related to Michele Bachmann?



Now this is truly surprising! Even shocking!!! I had no idea! Maybe they mean homicide victims questioned by police during seances.



Guess I’ll be drinking orange juice from now on…



And people in Sacramento had such high hopes when they had that unusually cold weather… What a shame!


Well at least they picked the people who are the most qualified to study this issue. But will they remember any of their conclusions?



Makes me glad that I don’t live in that city, and for more reasons than one! It’s very stinky and the people are stupid!




Since apparently the study was in Boston, it was probably done by The Archdiocese of Boston, and I’m sure The Pope is pleased, because you can never have too many Catholics! Lol ;-)



Well, I guess they won’t be getting everything out in the open then…



Hmm… I don’t remember that being one of the Miranda rights. “If you kill your attorney, you have a right to receive a new attorney.”



Did Donald Trump buy another beauty pageant???



Who would have ever guessed???



And then they took a bunch of blind people to see that movie “The Artist”.



And that must have really pissed off the administrators, because doctors aren’t cheap! Maybe they were advised it was a move they had to make, or else they’d have to resort to hiring lawyers!



Well he may be a slow learner… but at least he’s not in denial.



Hmm… must be the female nudists, who were not happy to see those towers. Maybe they were Lesbian female nudists…



Mark it down on your calendars everyone! And if you make a reservation in advance, you can get those velvet covered handcuffs, and a session in a BDSM themed interrogation room too. But call now, because space is limited!



Why am I not surprised?



One of the big pharmaceutical companies sponsored a scientific study that proved life is a dangerous disease, and they’ve come up with a new drug as a miracle cure! And it seems to be working too! “Ask your doctor if Fucidol is right for you. Fucidol – Giving us all hope that the disease of life can be eradicated within our lifetime.”



I suspect this wasn’t unintentional, but the work of a bored news writer who just couldn’t resist the temptation. “the device still holds up” huh? No premeditated mischief here! Yeah, right!



See previous comment. Cause sports writers are the worst offenders for this sort of thing.



The broadcast will be sponsored by the Barbershop Singers who performed for the deaf people.


Now that was kinda fun! :-) Maybe I should get a Twitter account after all… Lol ;-)


Posted in Humor | Tagged , , , , , , | 10 Comments

Happy 56th!

Yesterday was my 56th Birthday. It was one of my happier birthdays in recent years, and one of the reasons why is the birthday card my wife gave me last night, here below.

Happy 56

Happy 562

One of the many wonderful things about my wife Jean, is that she always makes a genuine effort on special occasions, to get cards and gifts for me, and anyone else she loves and cares about in her life, that she knows I and other people will sincerely appreciate. She uses her very perceptive understanding of who a person is, what he or she likes, and what will make that person feel happy, liked and appreciated. And for those of us who are very fortunate to be close to Jean, and have her in our lives, she makes us feel loved.

Jean had a brutal day yesterday because she wasn’t feeling well the night before, and she got less than two hours of sleep. When the alarm clock went off early yesterday morning, she was really hurting, and I didn’t think she was going to be able to get out of bed and go to work. But because she’s tough and dedicated to her job, she willed herself to get up, go to work and put in a full day. A very long full day at work, because she was extremely tired and not feeling well, but she got through it.

In the 25 years I’ve known her, I can count on one hand the number of times that Jean has called in sick for work. It almost never happens, because she has a genuinely dedicated work ethic, and she has genuine integrity.

And because she has a heart with a great capacity for kindness, sincere concern for others, compassion and love, after her long and brutal day at work, instead of coming straight home, she went out and got me this card for my birthday. Because she knew that I would love it. I do love it, but most of all, I love my wife. Her handwriting is normally much better than what is here in my birthday card, and it’s proof of how exhausted she was after work. Which just makes this card all the more precious to me.

She and I had a nice evening together last night. Jean rallied and was feeling somewhat better, because she was happy that it was my birthday, and because she loves me, and she wanted me to feel loved… I absolutely do feel loved, because if there is only one thing in this life that I am certain of, it’s that my wife truly loves me, because she shows me how much she loves me everyday, and my eyes are beginning to well up with tears as I write this.

Because of her, my 56th birthday was a very happy birthday. We went out for a candle lit dinner last night, enjoying each others company as we talked about things both serious and silly, and we enjoyed laughter as well as the warmth of romance; our love for each other mirrored in each others gaze, as our eyes met and reflected our shared love back to each other… A love undiminished by all the inevitable conflicts encountered in a marriage and a relationship, and the hardships and heartbreaks we have suffered together for 25 years.

But there has also been much joy for us in the 25 years we have been together, as we have shared many adventures and mutual interests, and taught each other an appreciation for experiences that we might have never known individually without each other.

She gave me an appreciation for romantic and erotic French movies. I gave her the experience of wilderness hiking and camping in places of great natural beauty and splendid isolation. She taught me how to ski; both cross country and alpine skiing. I taught her how to advance from being a novice scuba diver with only three ocean dives of experience, to a highly skilled and experienced scuba diver, with over 200 dives worth of experience, and the ability to handle the level of difficulty for almost any recreational dive, skillfully and safely.

She encouraged me to read books that I would never have read and enjoyed, without her knowledge of them, and she introduced me to the work of some of the world’s greatest photographers. Her experience as a professional photographer and photo editor, taught me how to be a better amateur photographer.

I taught her about the Boston Red Sox and the unique experience of watching baseball played in Fenway Park, where the fans are closer to the action on the field than in any other Major League ball park, except for Wrigley Field in Chicago. As a result we shared the experience of the most thrilling and dramatic MLB playoff series ever in 2004, when the Red Sox lost the first three straight games to the New York Yankees, and faced elimination, but then rallied to win the next four games, and win the American League Championship. Soon after, the Red Sox won the World Series – for the first time in 86 years. Jean was just as ecstatic as any Red Sox fan in all of New England, or anywhere else.

I helped her overcome her fear of heights. She helped me to become more patient, and less angry and confrontational with difficult people. (a work still in progress)

For 25 years, as our relationship has grown and become much deeper, we have become best friends and companions, as well as passionate lovers. And when we are not fighting, as all couples do at times, we love each others’ sense of humor, and we love laughing together.

After we got home from the restaurant, we made love. Again, like countless times before, we shared the transcendental experience of physical ecstasy combined with a love so deep for one another, that it became a union of our souls and very beings, in which we knew a profound peace like no other, as we held each other close in a tight but tenderly soothing embrace. We were very passionate lovers 25 years ago, and that passion burns even more brightly now.

But our love has become so deep and powerfully enduring, that I truly believe even if our sexual contact was no longer possible, we would both still love each other just as much.

Jean continues to teach me an ongoing lesson of the true value of love and caring compassion for other people, both those closest to us, and on the other side of the world, and she teaches me not only with her words, but by her life example. It’s an ongoing lesson that I need to keep learning, because I can be a difficult and uncooperative student at times.

My father taught me a sense of social compassion for the poor, the sick, the weak and disadvantaged, and those who are unfairly and unjustly marginalized by our society, and he also taught me by his own life example. But Dad had some blind spots, and like my father before me, occasionally there have been times when my social conscience hasn’t stopped me from being being unkind and even cruel to those closest to me, who love me the most, even my loving wife, when there are arguments and I get angry.

While I have never been physically abusive to my wife, or any other woman, or anyone in my family, like my Dad in the past, my ability to be very articulate can hurt people deeply, when I’m angry and my words become weapons used against them.

This is a card that I gave to my wife. I picked this card, because we had recently been scuba diving at night, and after our dive was over and we were on the surface, we floated on our backs to look up at a clear and beautiful night sky. We saw billions of stars; like countless pinpoints of light sparkling in the vast blackness of space, while a very bright full moon shined down on the ocean waters all around us, creating silver dancing highlights on the dark and gentle waves that gently rocked us, as we floated in the water side by side, holding hands, while looking up at the infinity of the universe above us.


I don’t remember much about the details, but I can tell from what I wrote inside, that I had hurt her, and I was trying to express my deep and sincere regret for hurting the woman who has loved me more than any other, the woman that I love more than my own life.


Excuse my handwritten scrawl… But in that message I poured my heart out to my wife all that I think, feel so deeply and profoundly believe, and most of all, how much I truly love her, and how much I’d be lost without her.

My wife is human and not perfect, but I often call her my Angel, because she seems like an Angel to me. Some of you know that on the day that Jean and I first met, on August 2nd, 1987, I saved her life, by saving her from drowning during a scuba diving emergency. I’ve often thought that on the day we met, I saved her life… and she’s been saving my life ever since.

She’s 52 years old now, but she looks at least 10 years younger, and although she’s gained some weight, it has improved her shape, since back in 1987 at 5’8″ she was on the edge of too thin, but still quite attractive with her long and nicely shaped legs.


Jean on my Birthday in 1989. A very Happy Birthday to me! ;-)

Now she’s more pleasingly round and curvacious, with her long and shapely slender legs just as impressive as ever. Her daily devotion to the practice of Yoga all her adult life, has kept her body smooth and firm, and she still can wear a bikini with pride, while catching the eye of many admiring glances from guys of all ages.


Jean rocking a bikini in 1998. At age 52 her shape is very similar today in late 2012.

In ways, she has the personality of 1960s flower child, with an aversion to wearing makeup, or coloring her greying hair. She still looks good enough to be out in public without makeup, and I don’t mind the grey in her hair.

A3 - The Love of My Life 2010

Jean at 50 yrs old. A touch of grey, no makeup, no problem…

But I do always enjoy it when she does wear makeup, because it highlights her pretty hazel-green eyes. She wore makeup for me last night, and her hazel-green eyes looked more green than usual, with a warm and sparkling glow as she smiled. She looked enchantingly attractive as I stared into her pretty eyes, and as she returned my gaze, I could see her eyes glowing with her love for me. My heart swelled with love for her in return, and I felt deeply moved, as once again I realized how fortunate I am to feel so loved by her, and to have her in my life, as my one true Soul mate, and my wife.

In recent years, I’ve had mixed emotions about my birthday, and the arrival of another birthday has made me feel like I’m one year closer to being a very old man, which hasn’t made me all that happy.

But last night on my 56th Birthday, my lovely and wonderful wife made me feel like I was young and in my prime again, and I was very happy. Because I’m a very lucky guy, and I know it.


Posted in Personal, Scuba Diving | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments