Monday, July 31, 2006


Passion of the Iraqis?

Is it just me or does Mel Gibson look like Saddam Hussein?

Wednesday, July 26, 2006


Travel Day

South Florida, paradise lost. My birthplace has become overpopulated, destroying the very beauty people came here for in the first place. West Palm Beach's water tastes like dirt.

Oh my little one, Daddy misses being home but will kiss you goodnight tonight assuming there are no major malfunctions on the way home. Daddy's been busy and hasn't been able to do much writing--at least not writing about you and me and Mommy and Chester.

I have been writing quite a bit for an appeal which got sent off yesterday. If it gets reported in the Southern Reporter, your Daddy will achieve an immortality second only to seeing you walk around. I'll be in the books and remembered until people stop looking at them (which could be a while). You'll be able to Google Daddy and see that case. Heady stuff I know but not nearly as much fun as taking the Puppy down to the beach is it?

Here's something I've noticed Little One; there are a lot of children out there. Maybe I'm just seeing them now because of you. There are a lot of parents out there too that are carrying on like they're not parents. Your Mother and I are older and the more I see, the more I think that's a good thing. We had our wild times and had pretty much settled down when you arrived. This is not to say that we can't still have fun (see you in Tampa Calamity!) but we're not going to be dragging you out to tag along on our ill conceived adventures. You won't be (as I saw in Atlanta Hartsfield International) sitting outside the smoke filled smoking lounge waiting on your mother to finish her Marlboro. Seeing that cast a pall on my evening--I can't stand to see innocence bruised and battered. I can't stand to see the small Lebanese children face down in the dirt either. It breaks my heart. Children paying for the sins of adults. Where are the adults these days?

Anyway, the middle part of this year was relatively calm but it appears the last half will be more hectic. Trials abound and, even though they may get resolved once the courthouse steps are looming as this last one did, they take up an awful lot of time. I hope you forgive your daddy and know he works hard because he is so happy with you and your Mother and he doesn't want to ever jeopardize that arrangement. You see my little Sugary Bear, life is a struggle. You didn't hit the "sperm lottery" as Warren Buffet calls it--but it could have been worse. You are insulated now and your mother and I work hard to provide the cocoon for you where you can be a child. We enjoy doing it. It's all we can do--care for you until you're ready to leave us. And hopefully one day you'll look back and say it was a fun childhood.

At the very least, we just want to make sure you don't incur any therapy bills in your future... I think you'll figure it out okay. I'll be around if you have any questions.

See you tonight.

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

More Words

[As I'm telling the story of "The Three Little Pigs" to the Booglet, her mother announces she's going to walk Chester.]

"Mommy, are you sure you won't get stuck?"

Calamity, "Stuck sugarbear?"

Booglet, "Because it's dark."

Mommy and the hound leave and the Booglet and I curl up in the bed facing each other. Same eyes, one set bright and clear, the other strained from a day of depositions. Still, this is the happiest I could imagine.

"Once upon a time there were three little pigs..."

Monday, July 10, 2006

Sunday, July 9, 2006

"Daddy."

"Yes Sweetheart."

"My balloon's stuck in the sky."

Oh how I love those one liners.