Has it been a week already?...

You bet it has - Now give me a cigarette!!!

Um, excuse me...

So, I quit a week ago. So far, what can I say about not smoking short of "It pretty much sucks". There have been so many times I've wanted a cigarette, just to kick back and unwind. I think that's what I miss most: the unwinding. I've been wound...

But Vicky has been my favorite reason for not smoking. I like spending time with her and getting close to her without having to worry about how I smell. We spent a lot of time together this weekend, which is always nice. Saturday afternoon, we drove down to Carlsbad - looking for the ever-elusive replacements for my ratty denim jacket and my far-too-old leather jacket. As I've said before, I have a thing about jackets. I'll wear pretty much anything but my jackets are kind of signature items, so I chose them carefully. And, of course, we haven't been able to find anything, which has probably been irritating Vicky to no end. It has to be perfect - it's like meeting the woman you're going to marry. (Or, if you're already married, it's like meeting the woman you're going to illicitly sleep around with in cheap motels...) I'd gone with Vicky in shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, a smart move considering it was raining... Then, we walked into Geoffrey Beene - and I saw it. It's a kind of a mock-corduroy, brown jacket that you can imagine getting kidnapped in and escaping through a forest, hunted by dogs, swimming upstream in a river, finding yourself in a war zone, escaping from a prison camp on a stolen motorcycle, stealing the secret plans, and kissing the scientist's beautiful daughter just before she takes off for America... I liked it...

And then, she bought me two more. But, hey, she only spent about $120. (God, I love outlet malls...)

Of course, being healthier is okay, too. I've been able to work out with more intensity. I don't feel so out of breath at times. Even after a week, I can see a difference.

Mind you, food tastes the same and my sense of smell is still the way it was. I guess I never smoked enough to screw those up... just enough to, you know, LOVE IT.

In fact, now that I mention it, I'd really like to have a cigarette...

In case you're thinking of quitting...

So, I'm on my fourth day without a cigarette and I just noticed something interesting...

This girl on the other side of my cubicle, Annie, just came back from having a cigarette... and I can smell it. I can smell that ashtray scent, that burnt, distinct aroma... and I swear I'm this close to jumping on her just for the scent.

... I've become a second-hand smoke whore...

Time to take a break...

Things have been getting a tad serious around here and I thought it might be time to take a little break from the seriousness... seriousity... seriou-atiousness... ity...

So, anyway, I found this website that shows a bunch of goofy laws. Not only does this provide interesting relief for those who think we in the states are so much better than others, keep in mind that for something to be passed as a law, there usually has to be a problem.

For instance, if Shwartzenfucker passed a law today that each family has to own a copy of Red Dawn, it's probably because nobody wants it... and with good reason.

Keep that in mind when you see the following...


Alabama

It is illegal to wear a fake mustache that causes laughter in church.

California

It is a misdemeanor to shoot at any kind of game from a moving vehicle, unless the target is a whale.

Florida

Having sexual relations with a porcupine is illegal.

Kansas

Prohibits shooting rabbits from a motorboat.

Louisiana

It is illegal to rob a bank and then shoot at the bank teller with a water pistol.

Nebraska

It is illegal for bar owners to sell beer unless they are simultaneously brewing a kettle of soup.

New York

It is against the law to throw a ball at someone's head for fun.

North Dakota

It is illegal to lie down and fall asleep with your shoes on.

Ohio

It is illegal to get a fish drunk.

Texas

A recently passed anticrime law requires criminals to give their victims 24 hours notice, either orally or in writing, and to explain the nature of the crime to be committed.

Wisconsin

Butter substitutes are not allowed to be served in state prisons.

On meltdowns and nicotine...

They say that it takes three days to quit smoking. Three days. Three days until the nicotine is no longer in your system, until you're no longer hooked. Three days.

Bullshit.

I'm on my third day, if you count the two smokes Vicky gave me on Monday, and dare I say who the hell are those people who seem to know how long it takes to quit? Non-smokers, that's who they are! A bunch of no-nicotine piss ants who think they can tell me it's so easy!!

... I'm a bit irritated.

Now, I know I'm doing the right thing here - I understand that. You don't grow up by acting like a child and I can't help but think that's exactly what giving into my cravings would be... so I won't.

That said, there's been stress.

I'm sure Vicky's noticed it.

But she wasn't there this morning, in my car, on the way to work. I had what you might call a meltdown - and I'm only telling you because I believe I'm not the only one, that this happens to other people as well. I'm telling those people who also have this happen so they don't feel so alone... (God, I sure hope it happens to other people. Otherwise, I'm a freak...)

It started because I realized I'd forgotten to bring some Zipfizz to work. Zipfizz is an energy drink - and I swear by it, mostly because it's not all caffeine and sugar but healthy for you and also because it works. I knew I'd be tired at work. I usually keep some at work. I'd run out and I was supposed to bring some to restock my desk but I'd forgotten them for, probably, the fourth day in a row. Damn it! And, realizing this, I remembered what a shithole job I have and wondered why, despite my many attempts, I can't find another job. This led me down all sort of roads of regret; you might say it came at me from all sides: I'm fat, I'm ugly, I didn't have breakfast and I forgot to bring lunch, I'm 40 and I still haven't been published, the monologue I'm working on has no punch... and on and on and on...

Okay, now, I know that it came from all the stress... that's just something I have to live with, that's what happens when you're stressed.

I used to meltdown pretty often, just a few years ago. But things have gotten better...

Still, it's nice to know that I'm not completely well adjusted.

This kind of shit makes me nervous...

I think we can agree to a few things.

1) There were no weapons of mass distruction.
2) Iraq was not responsible for 9/11.
3) (burning) Bush's war should end.

I won't even link those to articles because, honestly, if you believe otherwise, no amount of proof is going to help.

Which leads us to today. Condi decided to do what Republicans do best today. On the hill, she scared the hell out of us! She said that we might be in Iraq for TEN YEARS and that they wouldn't rule out attacking other nations that never did anything to us!

Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice on Wednesday refused to rule out U.S. troops still being in Iraq in 10 years or the possibility that the United States could use military force against neighboring Syria and Iran.

Rice deferred to the decisions of President Bush and military commanders as Republicans and Democrats on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee pressed her for more specifics on the U.S. strategy in Iraq.

I find it unbelievable that our nation can sit by while those thugs continue to make schoolyard threats... backed by the most powerful army in the world...

There's not a whole lot we can do but there are a few things. Speak out. Get involved.

Here's something. Again, it might not be the kick in the pants you're hoping for but, at least, it's something.

We have to do something...

A few things about TV news...

God, how I hate TV news. With the exception of Keith Olberman, you could start a reality show called "Last Newsman Standing" where all the TV news people are put on an island and battle to the death and most people with think it's a natural continuation of the morning or evening news.

It's wretched. Does anyone watch and actually think they're being informed about what's important in the world? Most TV newscasts show high-speed chases, the scary black guy of the week, the scary disease of the week, the scary sports story of the week...

Okay, maybe the sports aren't scary. But, honest, short of sports and weather, it's all just a scare-fest. Studies have been done which show that the scarier TV news is, the higher their ratings are - so, they make it scarier. As long as you're scared, you'll watch. This, of course, only helps maintain the status quo, which for your information is the thing you really should be afraid of: the rich getting richer, the poor getting poorer, and your liberties being stripped away one at a time.

... but that's not what gets me the most.

The thing that bugs me the most is the development in the last decade that insists that TV news personalities (which is all they are these days) should have... personalities. They should be funny! And goofy! And sneezy! And Doc!

It's enough to make you want to puke!

I see this in the morning at the gym. Our local Fox channel has the most insipid news staff and their commercial literally shows them as buffoons! Well, I don't want a buffoon to give me the news! Neither should you! You should want your news to come from an intelligent source - not from a clown! So stop watching that shit, folks! Hit them where it hurts: at the ratings! Maybe (naive as this may sound) we can then have an intelligent delivery of the news on TV.

Until that day, there are still newspapers and the Internet(s).

I'm pretty sure Olberman's gonna get canned any day now...

Quitting.... it basically sucks...

So, I got home yesterday... and I wanted a cigarette. Basically, you can end every one of my sentences with "and I wanted a cigarette". Please do - it'll save me a lot of typing.

The thing is that when I get home, I like to relax a little. What better way to relax than with a nice smoke, huh?

So, I didn't relax.

Later, after we had dinner, I walked the dog and was basically climbing the walls. When I went to bed, I was tapping my feet... the thing about not smoking is it frees up a lot of spare time and you're caught wanting to do something to relax but there's nothing you can do because you just quit doing the thing that helps you relax. So, basically, you turn into a ball of pent-up energy. I don't know if it's the drug or the time you spend smoking but, one way or the other, you go nuts.

Meanwhile, Vicky is lying next to me in bed, saying, "I don't see what the problem is. It's not like you're quitting heroin." Actually, it is! It is like quitting heroin!!

Yeah... loving this...

Hating the "Liberal Media"?...

To this day, I still hear the neo-cons spouting off about the "Liberal Media" and it terrifies me that people believe this.

So, I thought I'd share an article I found. Here's an excerpt:


"On CNN's "Crossfire, Paul Begala reported the following results of a Nexis-Lexis Search:
"There were exactly 704 stories in the [2000] campaign about this flap of Gore inventing the Internet. There were only 13 stories about Bush failing to show up for his National Guard duty for a year. There were well over 1,000 stories - Nexus stopped at 1,000 - about Gore and the Buddhist temple. Only 12 about Bush being accused of insider trading at Harken Energy. There were 347 about Al Gore wearing earth tones, but only 10 about the fact that Dick Cheney did business with Iran and Iraq and Libya."

"The advantage of the myth of the liberal media to Bush and the Republicans is enormous. To those who believe it, if a story favorable to Bush and the GOP appears, the response is "it must be true, since even the liberal media reports it." And critical stories? "Don't believe it, it's just the liberal media dissing our President again." Conversely for stories about the Democrats and progressives."

Where are you?... a little lunchtime philosophy...

I had some time today and got to thinking on things political and philosophical and how I could write about them on the blog. After all, we're talking about some heavy-duty shit here, no? Where to start?

Well, why don't we start with some basics?

It has been said that you can tell what kinds of people you associate with by what they talk about. Small minds talk about other people. Mundane minds talk about things. Expanding minds talk about ideas. (It's not an exact quote by any means but it gives you an idea.)

So, let's talk about ideas for a minute...

Years ago, I studied a little about Kundalini Yoga and my mind will occasionally return and ask me where I'm at. It's a pretty simple idea and pretty easy to explain. Think of Kundalini as a metaphor for your spiritual journey or level of enlightenment, all coiled up within you. But you can follow the Kundalini, and the various chakras (stations along the way) from the most basic to the most enlightened - not only can you, we all do. You have little choice. In this metaphor, it is your spiritual life.

Of course, this isn't religion we're talking about. Yes, there's a huge difference. This transcends dogma while residing in basic philosophical thought.

So, let's follow the Kundalini up and see where you're at. Don't worry. No Sanskrit needed.

First stop: Your Root chakra. This chakra resides at your anus, which is appropriate because that's the only thing the person residing on this chakra care about. This person hasn't grown past his Freudian anal state. Don't worry. Most people get past this - so let's move on.

Chakra 2: The Genital Chakra. This one's a tricky one and, believe me, I've sunk to this level plenty of times myself. This chakra is interested only (as if you couldn't guess) in sexual satisfaction, fantasizing, the sensual realm. Hey, it's a fun place to be but there's so much more. This isn't to say that advancement beyond the second chakra means no more sex. Advancement beyond means you get that and more. It means you're open enough to let go of that and see beyond. I would guess that vanity, too, falls in this chakra. Narcissistic urges keep us from growing.

Chakra 3: Naval Chakra. This is the chakra of the inner fire, so it is red. The burning energy within us consumes and consumes, which is all our guts do, after all. Those residing on this chakra are consumed by greed and pettiness. This is about ME and MINE and, sadly, this is where you'll see most people. Why did (burning) Bush give our nation's surplus to the richest 1% and start a war for oil? This is where he lives.

Chakra 4: Heart Chakra. At my best, this is where I live. This chakra reflects love and kindness. Can you show love and kindness to people, can you exhibit patience and generosity? Now, can you do it even when you don't need to? Then, here you are. We're talking about selflessness here, modesty, humility.

Chakra 5: Throat Chakra. Maybe my lack of understanding explains why I've never made it to this chakra. This chakra comes from the throat, as does your voice. You've grown to the point where your words do not betray you, even in jokes. Some of us are quick to speak; I'm one of them.

Chakra 6: Third-Eye Chakra. This one is right between your eyes. Hitting this level means you aren't seeing through your left eye or right eye any more but through the one in the middle. What does this mean. No more extremes. No left or right. No light or dark. No good or evil. Now, you see beyond the duality of the universe. You see the an Iraqi is just the same as a Californian. You see that a homeless person deserves as much respect as (burning) Bush. (Perhaps that was a bad example...)

Chakra 7: Crown Chakra. This one sits right on the top of your head. At this point, you realize there are no dualities in yourself, either. So, living or dead, you are you. Also, that bug on the ground and you are the same thing because you share the same building blocks (science, folks) and have some of the same urges. You are now connected with the holiness that Jesus talked about. ("The kingdom of heaven is within all men and they do not see it.")

So, this transcends religion and intersects religion. (Mind you, there are as many outlooks on the Kundalini as there are Knock-Knock jokes...)

It's practical as well. I honestly believe that we all have a duty to be the best people we can be, otherwise we're wasting our time, cheating ourselves. So, how do we move beyond being satisfied by just the second, third, or fourth chakra? Perhaps, together, we'll learn that.

With all of these, it's easy to talk about those levels but something entirely different to exist on them.

... So, consider this the easy part.

Things around here...

Got a call last night from Tim Murphy. He was wonder how my first day as a non-smoker went and I kinda replied that I'd let him know when I had one.

Okay, so Vicky held onto a couple of smokes for me and gave them to me last night so my first day wouldn't be so bad. She's a gem, what can I say? So, I smoked them with Tim (which will be ironic if I really do quit, seeing as how I had my first smoke with him, too) and that was that.

A lot of stuff has been bugging me lately. I don't know if it's the smoking or what - but I'd guess not since my last cigarette was less than 24 hours ago. I'm feeling antsy - out of place. It's not an unusual feeling for me; it usually comes when I haven't done anything in a while or when I feel I need to do something.

I'd like to act again. Honestly. I'd love to! The problem at present, though, is I just can't find a part. I'm not saying I can't get a part - I can't find one I want to audition for! Things are pretty dry right now... it sucks. I'd like to find a show before the end of the month because theater schedules usually have six weeks of rehearsal with 4-6 weeks of performance. This would put me at the beginning of next year and then I'll be returning to school.

Yep, Vicky is all for me returning and I think it's probably time, too. I don't know how "New Ken" will do, but...

And, that's another thing. "Ken."

I've been going by "Ken" for quite some time now. I'm a bit sick of it. I was "Kenny" until nearly high school. Then, for the past 25 years or so, I've been "Ken". But I started using "Kenneth" a few years ago, in my writing mostly, and I kind of like it.

I don't think I'd mind being "Kenneth" for a while.

Think of it this way. "Ken" was tied to Rosa (one way or another) and smoked. "Kenneth" is married to Vicky and doesn't smoke.

I kind of like the idea... What do you think?

Anyway, if I don't get into a show, I've got a lot of writing projects - mind you, one actually has to commit one's self, you know?

In the meantime, Vicky and I have our first weekend without any plans (in at least a couple of months) coming up in a few days.... Ahhhhhhh....

Have some beef? Like your brains?...

In a move that is sure to make sure no one thinks of beef when they think of their brains turning to liquid shit, the media machine has started referring to Mad Cow, not as Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease, but as Brain-Wasting Disease. Hmmm... Brain-Wasting Disease... whatever could that have to do with?

Meanwhile, my veggie diet slips further and further away into memory...

So, what does this have to do with the price of flesh-eating cows in China? Well, because it's related to the price of flesh-eating cows. That's how moos get Mad Cow, after all, because we've decided we'll feed anything to our livestock as long as it'll make them tasty: meat, bones, brain, whatever. Now, in Idaho, there are nine new cases of Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease and people are wondering how in the world that could happen, as they wait in line at Jack-in-da-box...

Folks, seriously, I'm not saying you need to go veggie but, honestly, be careful about what you eat, at the very least. Watch the quality of your food. Shop at places like Whole Foods or Henry's, if you can afford it. If all you can afford is shit... it's time to change your diet.

Who is Granddaddy???

Granddaddy turned out to provide the music for my 40th birthday.

Wait. Before you ask, no, they're not grand-daddies. They're a young band out of central California who call themselves Granddaddy.

Basically, the only way I can describe them is if you took The Thrills, replaced some of the members with guys from ELO, got each of them to have sex with Stan Ridgway, and raised the love children in Modesto... you'd get Granddaddy!

(Anyway, it's kinda nice being 40 and still finding music that the kids today are still listening to... what with your fast cars, and rumble seats, and hoola hoops...)

As the wedding pictures trickle in...

This one is from my brother - doesn't Vicky look radiant?

Birthday, Birthday… was I supposed to do something today…?

Well, here it is.

40.

40 years old.

160 seasons.

As we say in Anaheim, “Fucking Old.”

When I was a boy, I used to think, “Forty? That’ll be in 2005 – there’s no way I’ll live that long…” Right.

I usually tell people that the things I want for my birthday include being nice to strangers and things like that. Well, I had a personal run-in with some profound, obscene dishonesty recently (from my ex-wife, if you’d like to know), and that left me wanting only one thing for my birthday. If you want to give me something, here’s something: be honest. Be honest with your family. Be honest with your friends. Be honest at work. But, most of all, be honest with yourself. It’s a present for me that you could use, too. The world would be a much better place with a little honesty.

Today was the day I quit smoking. I had my last cigarette at 9:30am, about when I think I was born.

Well, after a while, Vicky and I got to bickering and the day wasn’t going as well as I’d hoped, so I started smoking again at around 4pm. Disappointed? Well, it’s not so bad. Tim was here and he had smokes and Vicky said, “Go ahead and smoke while he’s here.” So, I did.

(As for the day not going as I'd hoped, I should mention we had a great little party last night, thanks to Vic, and it was pretty splendid. She made my birthday something special - normal life just kicked in the next day, that's all.)

Don’t worry. I’m still quitting – just not on the hour I’d hoped.

Anyway, now I’m 40. I haven’t accomplished half of what I expected of myself. On the upside, I have Vicky in my life, which is five times more than I could have dreamed I’d have.

… and, when I was a kid, I didn’t think I’d make it this far…

Birthday Celebrations

Last night we had some of our friends over to celebrate October birthdays...yes we have a few of them in our group, Ken, Sean, Don and Tim. We had quite a fun little party that ended a lot later than I thought it would. It was very nice to see Ken's friends and mine laughing and enjoying themselves in our home. I picked up BBQ from Lucille's...if you haven't been there you really should go, it is some of the best BBQ I've ever had. And one more thing

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEN!

Yes, today is Ken's birthday...the big FOUR (UH) OH! And to tell you the truth, he hardly looks a day over 39...

And from the other side of One Path....

Since Ken has now posted...what is the count...seven times, I figured it was about time for me to put in one of my own.

Since Ken is the writer of the family, his posts are going to far out number mine. So, before you start wondering where I am and why I'm not writing...just know that I am busy and as you can tell...my posts are far more boring than Ken's. I mean really now...who can compete with his observations on a Vurp.

Oh...I am so lucky...

For everyone that knows me...or has been to Vegas with me...you are well aware of my consistent good luck. By now you should all know that I won a trip to Hawaii...I believe that Ken has told everyone he knows, and even some people he doesn't. Several weeks ago I won $200 from a Lottery Scratcher ticket. And now...this week I won 4 tickets to Mark and Brian's Private Disneyland Event. We are taking friends with us...Jennifer & Joe...see how it pays to be our friends. Please continue with the gifts and donations and you too may be included on my next prize winning adventure.

Vurp for Breakfast..

Anyone know what a "vurp" is? It's a term I think I picked up from Vicky, though I might have heard it before, that combines the best parts of "vomit" and "burp". You know, it's when you burp up a chunk or two, something rises, the peasants uprise, the bulls are running in Pamplona... you get the idea...

Usually horrible, sometimes it's not too unpleasant. Banana split, for instance, you don't mind tasting again. Heck, you could taste it few times. Honey ham is nice. A nice chimichanga does well.

And Honey Nut Cheerios. There are probably other breakfast cereals that come up better - Fruity Pebbles, for instance - but Honey Nut Cheerios is good for you and good tasting.

I bring this up - so to speak - because I've recently started eating cereals again, having taken time off to lose weight before the wedding so that Vicky could look back at our album years from now and reminisce when I could roll over on top of her in my sleep without cracking ribs, and I chose Kashi. Kashi is an organic mixture of prairie scrap and old rosins, pressed together by someone who had just cleaned a catbox with wet hands. Years ago, you'd have to be a hippy to eat cereal like this, a drugged-out, liberal, pinko, commie, free-love, dope-fiend, hipster, lay-about, do-nothing, get-a-job-you-freak, live-in-his-parent's-basement-or-some-kinda-commune-you-freak, long-haired, unkempt, can't-tell-if-you're-a-girl, what's-with-your-clothes, Hate Ash Berries, never-washes-beneath-his-fingernails, back-to-the-land, dresses-in-hemp kinda hippy to eat this all-natural, no-flavor, stick-in-your-gut kinda crap.

But I like it.

I'm a modern guy, an urban (and rather urbane) gent, a city fella, and being from the city, I eat things that remind me what it's like to be in touch with the land. Meanwhile, farmers are eating all the Crunch Berries they can get their hands on. So, I eat Kashi.

I've very crunchy, very crispy. It's downright dangerous. You need to put orange cones up before you eat it. It comes with a waiver. There's a free offer for life insurance - it's that dangerous.

Then, on my way in, I vurped... Kashi... it was like five years of the (burning) Bush administration right there in my throat, which is like a Republican Lewinski. I was coughing and gagging in my car.

Oh, I'll eat it again tomorrow. I have to - I bought two bags of it!

Question of the Week...

And now to start our first (ir)regular feature, it's time for the ONE PATH QUESTION OF THE WEEK...

or something...

Hey, we gotta get you putting in comments somehow!

So, my last day of smoking is coming up fast - five days from now - and I can help but wonder how long that will last. So, I thought I'd ask you.

How long will I remain a non-smoker? (Given the "one every great while" provision...)

An X-Rated World...

Saw this on a bumper sticker today... seriously... "Raising G-Rated Kids in an X-Rated World".

Now, my first response was obvious indignation. We don't live in an X-Rated World! At best (or worst), it's R-Rated. Normally, it's more like PG-13 Rated. How much graphic violence do you see at work, with blood and guts, huh? See, that would make it R-Rated. And to be X-Rated...

Which is what took me to a different place... a happier place... I mean, what an interesting world it would be if it WERE X-Rated! Meetings at work would fly by! Everyone would take mass transit. (Think about it.) It would be very difficult to have war or commit murder - WE WOULD ALL GET ALONG!

... Pizza delivery boys would make a lot more money, too...

Where there's smoke... there's Ken...

As most of you know, I've smoked since a very young age - even before cigarettes. My mom used to ritually set me aflame! (Just seeing if she's reading...)

Anyway, I started smoking at the ripe, old age of 17 - thanks to Tim Murphy, the bastard. I stopped for a while when I was married to Rosa but started again in earnest when we split up. At the time, I figured I had a valid reason for smoking: SELF DESTRUCTION. Hey, it might be slow but it's effective!

As things turned out, my plan for self destruction didn't work out as planned - I met Vicky - so my great reason for smoking has pretty much been snatched from my grasp... dammit.

And why do I bring this up?

Because I've decided to quit.

Yes, that's right. Quit.

Call me a quitter, craven, dastard, poltroon, recreant, yellowbelly, alarmist, baby, big baby, caitiff, chicken, chicken liver, chicken-heart, deserter, faint-of-heart, fraidy cat, funk, gutless, gutless wonder, invertebrate, jellyfish, lily-liver, malingerer, milksop, milquetoast, mollycoddle, mouse, nerd, pessimist, scaredy-cat, shirk, shirker, sissy, skulker, sneak, turkey, weak sister, weakling, white liver... I should be ashamed...

The thing is, I'm turning 40 next week. I'm no spring chicken. (As you could tell - It wasn't in the list above...) And, on top of that, Vicky and I are going to be having a baby... you know... sometime... It seems like the right time to -

WHAT AM I SAYING??????

... sorry... this ain't easy.

I have six more days to smoke...

You're bound to hear more about this later. In the meantime, who's got a cigarette???