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.... I found this from a few years ago, and thought I'd put it up again just for giggles....... have a happy and safe New Year, rubberneckers!....


... orignally posted January 9th, 2007....


… Hoosierboy asks a very good question over at his blog… I read his answers with great enjoyment…. He simply asked, “who are you?”, and began to answer….. so I will give it a try myself....

… hello….

… I am Eric…. I am 34 years old…. I was born on a Saturday morning in October at Bradley Memorial Hospital in Cleveland, Tennessee… I have been told that my maternal grandparents were in attendance in the waiting room and that they lit cigars when the nurse told them I’d arrived at 2am…. the idea of them doing that makes me very happy for some odd reason…

… I was born without any hair on my head… but I began sprouting wispy red locks as I crawled slowly towards toddlerdom…. and by the time I started kindergarten I had a huge shock of Vivaldian hair….. since I was semi-bald during my young years, my parents developed a phobia of sorts…. In retrospect – after having heard their stories – I call it Sampsonophobia….. once my hair started growing, they were afraid to get it cut lest I remain like a cue-ball for the rest of my days…. thus, I entered into my first scholastic endeavor in need of a ponytail-clasp…

… fortunately, time and circumstance cured them from their phobia and I finally got a decent haircut just in time for the 70s fads of gigantically collared shirts and horrible, polyester plaid pants….

… nowadays, well, it has ceased to be so shockingly colorful and is more of a dulled copper with blondes and silvers thrown in for extra curiosity…. the hair that covers the rest of my body though, is quite long and ranges from gold-colored to almost translucent….. I have no hair on my chest or back and I cannot grow a mustache if The Survival Of All Humanity depended upon it…. something about having had some Indian genes thrown into the familial mix back before Jackson had them all rounded up and whisked away to Oklahoma…..

…. I am 6’2” and pale with a smattering of freckles across my body and face… Nordic in appearance, almost….. and I weigh just under 200lbs…. that is, of course, depending on what I consumed for dinner last night and how enjoyable my last movement was…. weight, in the end, is a fickle measurement to go by….

…. My hair is short and parted from the left to the right, but I don’t own a comb… so all of the ‘parting’ is done by using my hands as I leave the shower in the morning…. the cut itself is just outside of military regulations….. I have an unfortunate nose that is at once noticeable as too small for my face…. My head, while not fat, does appear to be just that wee bit rounder than most noggins that I have seen…

…. I have no degrees and have never been enrolled at a place of higher learning…. I graduated from high school on a Friday and arrived at MCRD Parris Island, SC the following Monday after having night-tripped all of Sunday evening to get there…. I was ‘high shooter’ for my series when I graduated…. The Commanding General gave me a certificate from The Marine Corps Association (..who evidently thought it quite smart that I qualified one point off of perfect…)

…. I served in the Corps for nearly five years and loved every second of it…. I’ve been to quite a few exotic locations and managed to find what was worth seeing in all of them… even under the worst circumstances…. many of the men that I met there are still counted among my closest friends… even though we may only talk once or twice a year….

… I have been a network engineer, a systems analyst, a technology consultant, and an IT Manager……

…. I am, and have been, many things to many different people…. son, husband, brother, friend, lover, enemy, confidant, defender, workmate…. and probably many more that aren’t coming to mind right now….. but that is alright… it is as it should be…. as we live our lives, our roles change daily… so it is ok to forget some of them sometimes….

… I have a keen ability to memorize things, but I don’t utilize it nearly enough… I am too easily distracted to actually toss my brain towards something of importance….. I seem to be always busy with a tedious thing while my mind treads water…. but I do see patterns in words and I have a great love of poetry… lowbrow and highbrow….. and I view that as one of my most prized possessions… so I don’t feel that I’m losing much there….

…. I play a few chords on guitar but can’t sing…. I picked up my first guitar from one of my old Uncles who used to sing old BeeGee’s songs from way back before they went Disco… “How Do You Mend A Broken Heart”, etc… it was a Yamaha FG-340 and was a complete sweetie…. but it was stolen while I lived overseas… The Missus replaced it with the Fender acoustic that I own now and adore….

….my first name is David and my little brother’s first name is Joshua….. both of our middle names are Nordic… Eric and Leif, respectively….

… funny, really, my first name means ‘beloved’ and my middle name means ‘king’…. My surname means ‘one who brings gifts’ or ‘one who grants wishes’….

.. so, my whole name?… ‘beloved king who grants wishes’….. sounds pretty groovy, if you ask me…

…. I smoke unfiltered Camel cigarettes and love Scotch…. particularly the Islay malt, Bowmore…. When I lived overseas, it was impossible to get Camels that weren’t made in France (they used un-toasted tobacco and the flavor was totally off), so I smoked Marlboro’s with the filters ripped off for years until I moved back to Tennessee….

… I try to be an honest and good man… and I am happy with where I am in my life most of the time….. I like to watch everything around me…. I smile a lot and I laugh easily… mostly at myself…

… politically, I am a mixed bag….. I believe in a strong military and personal choices remaining Personal…

…. I love college football, Rugby Union, and competitive swimming…… I believe that the Tri-Nations are evil but I still wish that I owned a Springbok’s jersey…….

… I have never picked a fight in my entire life, but I have been in quite a few…. not always winning, I might add…. I’ve been cut, shot at, punched, kicked, gouged, twisted, choked, stomped, and bitten in the course of my life thus far….. and I have no regrets about any of it….

…. I’ve never been a braggart either, as I am at my core a shy, delicate fellow…. and I greatly disdain acts of arrogance and cockiness that are genuinely believed by the perpetrators….

…. Oh, and I look like an idiot if I ever wear a hat…… but I still own about thirty of them….. I just can’t help myself…

... so, hello... and welcome to my blog.....

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Prine....

.... I spent some time this afternoon between various gigs to grouse through YouTube, and I found the most amazing comment left to one of my favorite John Prine songs...... I was, quite astonishingly, slackjawwed when I read it.....

... here's the video....

... and here's the comment - just in case you missed it...

John Prine has written some divine songs, this sure is one of them. You know when they tore down the Berlin wall, on the east side of the wall, someone had braved the landmines and guards and sprayed on the wall: Thank God for John Prine

.... hey, I'm a fan...... and I LOVE the guy..... but I don't imagine that I'd brave a minefield for him..... then again, maybe I just might.......

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Edges....

.... it has been a weird couple of days, folks..... the Porsche has been snowed in - as have I - and I think I'm coming down with something....... still, I survive...... I write, I read, I live, and I grow........ such is Life.......

.... I did find this tonight, though..... and it made me quite happy..... I've never been a huge U2 fan, but I did - once upon a time - learn to sing and play this song on guitar....... actually, it is The Only U2 song that I can play.......

..... I hope you enjoy!.... and hey, Merry Christmas.....

..... The Edge is The Bomb......

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Gravy!.....

.... as I wander down this Path of Breathing, I am often flummoxed by the various vaugeries, situations, and opportunities of Life..... and when I find myself faced with such mindboggling things, I often quote Roscoe Brown from Lonesome Dove - the scene where he's just been told Ellie has skipped town whislt knocked-up...... here's an example....

The Missus: What's for breakfast?
Me: ..... would you like eggs?....
The Missus: We're out of eggs, I just checked.
Me: .... what??!!... out of EGGS!?.... that's impossible.... what?? "On a whiskey boat?!"....

... yeah, I know..... but the truth is often much, much more strange than fiction......

... however, Christmastime provides my vocabulary with a stay from the mundanity of the rest of the year.... behold "The Holiday Quote" via A Christmas Carol..... this is the immortal line that Scrooge says to The Ghost of Marley when he can't believe his eyes......

"You may be an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you, whatever you are!"


.... good god, I love that line...... absolutely marvelous, isn't it?..... so, in keeping with The Season, the next time you are presented with a situation of incredulity, I suggest you quote ole Scrooge...

.... c'mon, admit it..... isn't it the thought of calling someone a 'fragment of underdone potato' or an 'undigested bit of beef' toe-curlingly appealing?.....

... or, for that matter, you could just point at them and yell "GRAVY!!".....

... just trying to make sure y'all have a festive holiday season, folks.......

... you're welcome....

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Buttocks....

..... so yesterday evening the Missus and I re-watched the survival movie "Alive".... you know, where those Uruguayan rugby players cannibalize each other?...... it struck me as absolutely unthinkable when I watched the wavering hands of the first would-be cannibal carve at the buttocks of the dead pilot in search of meat.... I mean, c'mon..... really?.....

.... I couldn't help but think that if I were killed in an airplane crash, the very LAST place you'd want to carve a piece off of me to nibble at would be my ass..... I've never had the shit scared out of me before - and I hope that I never do, actually - but I have the distinct feeling that being in an airplane crash might just do the proverbial trick......

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Writing.....

..... if you don't read anything ELSE this week, read Big Stupid Tommy's latest....... the man is a machine...... and one helluva writer......

... behold this, and this...... gaze upon his works, ye Mighty, and despair.......

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Goats.....

...... happy birthday Alexander Solzhenitsyn, wherever you are..... your tale of Ivan Denisovich damaged me when I read it as a pimply 13 year old......

... in other news, I've spent hours in the kitchen today working tomato sauce, garlic, onions, and and mulched bits of cow into a repast that shall delight and confound later this evening..... indeed, I plan on spooning it over eight or ten giant pasta shells that have been stuffed with Ricotta, Romano, and Parmesan cheese...... hey, throw in a side salad, a few hunks of garlic bread, and a nice red wine and it'll be downright civilized..... and these days, hey, I'm all about The Civilization....

.... and with that, I'm off to watch the Army/Navy game..... Go Goats!....

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Mail....

..... fresh from the mailbag, I give you an original piece of poetry...... I actually found it quite moving...... then again, he IS my brother.....

Mail Call by Joshua

Darkness and loneliness fill my cell
With pain and fear too great to yell
I wait for the mailman to deliver to me
As I wipe away tears that no one will see

I pray so sincere with head raised above
"Please, God, soon send a letter of love."
I long to look upon pages so dear
With riches to bring my loved ones so near.

Words of diamonds on pages of gold
A message from heaven as their story is told
"We love you, we miss you, we pray you'll be free."
A treasure-filled envelope just for me.

Please bring memories of joys I once knew
Family, friends, and the things I would do.
The darkness and pain of my cell will prevail
As my name, again, was not called for mail.

..... nice note for a Christmas card, no?...... ahhh, Life teaches us all different things, you know?....... and hey, he has never been accused of being subtle before..... perhaps he finally found my Achilles Heel.....

.... after all, I do love me some poetry......

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Wine....

...... found this and it just plain hit the proverbial spot.......

.....two minutes and forthy seconds of pure something....... but I love it anyway....

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