This is Ken being Ken being Ken...

Wait a minute... all will be explained.

So, I was working on the new book this morning, writing about Victor Gabriel Marquez, right-wing philosopher has-been, as he meets Francis Ell. This new book is written by me, me being a character in the book - the "writer as character". I'm a character in the book because I knew Carl Olek in Elementary School. Carl Olek now owns a bar in Arizona and meets John Gabriel at the bar. John Gabriel is Victor Gabriel Marquez's son.

Now, here's the part that gives some people a headache. This is a book of fiction. Victor Gabriel Marquez, Francis Ell, John Gabriel, Carl Olek, and I don't really exist.

But, then, we do. I mean, here I am, right? I'm writing this, aren't I? And I actually did know Carl Olek in Elementary School.

My imagination is a place I like to play.

Now, some people say that, when you dream, each person in your dream is a reflection of yourself. Some people also say that about writing. They also say it about acting. The trick about acting is not in becoming someone else. It is in becoming yourself - only more so. You can imagine how such an outlook made it difficult for me to play Howard Holt - and, yet, some said I did rather well, so...

When I write, all the characters are me. They are me as I would be - which is, in fact, the only way anyone can write. No kidding.

Francis Ell is a character from my first book, My Side. (Yes, it was a book... a really bad one, too.) He was created as an extension of myself. In a lot of ways, Francis Ell was me. And I put the words into the books by Victor Gabriel Marquez... so Victor is me as well.

So, when I write about Victor meeting Francis, I (as the writer) as writing about me writing about me meeting me...

At which point, I decided to write this...

(And does this mean I'm Carl Olek? Of course, not - silly! Carl Olek is a real person - PAY ATTENTION!)

Election Day Politicos...

What better day to write about politics than on election day?

I was listening to the radio yesterday and a Methodist minister was stating that she talked about politics in church. Some people see that as sacriligious (if not irreligious) but if you consider who Jesus was, how could you NOT talk about politics? Jesus was a political revolutionary who preached tolerance, humility, and - horror of horrors - equitable distrubution of wealth. Jesus spoke at length about the poor, so how could you not talk politics at a time when the Republican party is cramming all the wealth into the top 1% that they can? So, I can understand what the preacher was talking about. Granted, if you're lying, you're lying. There may be people out there who believe Jesus was pro-war, pro-tyranny... but that doesn't make it right.

Shrub made an announcement the other day, stating "We don't torture." Really, Mr. Prez? What about the secret CIA camps? What about Guantanamo? What about Abu Ghraib? What about Cheney pushing his pro-torture agenda in the Senate? When Shrub says "We don't torture" what he means is "We don't give a shit about the truth". Keep that in mind this election day when you are faced with a Republican or their agenda.

Speaking of agendas, we've got a few propositions being pushed in California. As I've said before, watch out - they're trying to sucker you in. Keep your best interests in mind. I feel safe writing that because I don't think I have any mega-wealthy white men reading this blog. So, it would be safe to recommend a NO vote on 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, and 78, with a YES vote to 79 and 80. I should note that, while that is my suggestion, I'm not necessarily speaking for Vicky.

There's one last bit I need to add that is of political interest. Vicky, while too modest (or lazy) to write about this herself, is running for a position on our condominium board. I know she has my vote! Now, sure, board membership isn't exactly a Cabinet post but it does tend to lead to bigger and better things. I'm very proud of her for doing her part to contribute to our little neighborhood and thought I'd close this by telling her so. Honey, I'm proud of you.

Stop it now! You're scaring me!

With the renewed debate in this country about the science of evolution versus the spooky superstition of creationis - (cough) - intelligent design, the phrase "stupid american" never seemed quite more appropos... except for maybe anytime in the last five years...

Anyway, now the Vatican comes out and calls the christian fundamentalists a bunch of dummies:


Cardinal Paul Poupard, head of the Pontifical Council for Culture, said the Genesis description of how God created the universe and Darwin's theory of evolution were "perfectly compatible" if the Bible were read correctly.

"The fundamentalists want to give a scientific meaning to words that had no scientific aim," he said at a Vatican press conference.

Yes, they also believe that "the meek shall inherit MY ASS"... are you saying they're wrong?

The TrishKen Triangle...

I've often thought Vicky really blew it by marrying me - I mean, really bought a lemon. Well, this weekend helped illuminate my point pretty well, I think.

Let's start with the new book and work our way back. As you faithful readers probably know (both of you), I hit the 10,000 word mark last week. This new book is really a return to roots for me; I'm casting off all pretension in my style, bringing everything down to a basic, simple style, while amping my sarcasm up to 11. It's a lot like my writing used to be back in the days of the first My Side (which was a newspaper column)... but with more cussing. The thing is, it's such a risk for me, I'm not really sure if it's any good. In fact, as I hit 10k, I was pretty sure it probably sucked.

I asked a few people if they'd be interested in reading it for me, screening it, if you will. Enter Trish, Vicky's Matron-of-Honor, good friend, and her one link to the guy who used to write My Side. She said she'd love to read the 10k and so, in one fell swoop, she was reading something a lot like the My Sides I wrote in high school, which she might have read... now and then became one a little bit.

Then, it got worse.

See, back when I wrote My Side, back in high school, I was the guy to beat. I was voted most talented in the year book. I had teachers expect me to be on Broadway, some of them said they expected me to win a Pulitzer. There was a lot of pressure to achieve great things.

Which I did not do.

Not only did I not achieve great things, I barely pulled out good things.

It still happens today. I have actor friends who expect me to ace auditions, which I never do. People think that just because I've written 10 books, one should get published. They don't. People have this limitless capacity for hope, which doesn't help me any because I can't help but let them down.

And defeat isn't something that helps you sleep at night.

A few months ago, a guy named Eugene David, a guy I was good friends with in elementary school, wrote to me through Classmates and asked me what I'd been up to. Hmmm... failed married, dead-end job, living in an apartment, never been published, not a working actor - I didn't have much to tell him. Now, of course, I'm married to a wonderful woman with a nice home but the expectations that were placed upon me back then were never met. In short, I failed. I'm a failure.

Put that on my tombstone.

Along with pepperoni. I love pepperoni.

So, Trish is reading the book - you remember how we got there, right? - and she reads the following:


Carl Olek was a man quickly approaching middle-age who had moved to Arizona for the dry weather. He needed it because his joints would swell and ache anywhere else he lived, a conclusion drawn after living in only two other places. Carl didn’t have arthritis. He’s busted his knuckles time and again as a child, beating the crap out of people. As a child, Carl had been a bully and he’d liked beating the crap out of people a whole lot; he just hadn’t realized that it would put him in a shithole like Seligman, Arizona or that he’d end up tending bar in a place like the Log Cavern Tavern and at no point did he ever think he’d ever run into John Gabriel in such a place. Or that John Gabriel would be telling him his fucking life’s story.


Carl Olek, you see, was a real person - he may still be a real person. I was friends with him in elementary school. He was kind of a bully - I got to know him through Jeff Hollenbeck, who I was friends with for quite some time. We only stopped being friends in Junior High school, when he got more into drugs than with hanging around dorks. I was the dork. I was more drawn to reading and making up stories than to sports or drugs. I didn't choose well.

Vicky and I were in Lancaster Saturday night, having dinner at her mom's restaurant, when the topic of these 10,000 words came up. Vicky, so tired of hearing me wonder if Trish had read it yet that she wished she could have put me inside a vacuum tube that would have sucked me over to Trish & Clay's house (no, Tim. Not that way!), she pulled out her phone and immediately called Trish.

And Trish had read it.

And she wanted to talk to me.

"Is Carl Olek based on a real person?" she asked.

He was, I told her.

This came as a surprise to her and not for the reasons you might think. You see, she knew Carl Olek.

She knew Jeff Hollenbeck.

She knew these people who expected me to succeed. And, yet, she knows I'm a failure.

And, so, it all comes full circle - or, at least, it did this weekend - Trish, Jeff, all those expectations, all of my failures - there's no escaping it. There's also no way that I can hide from Vicky how shortchanged she got by saying "I do".

... pretty crappy way to start the week.

I couldn't have put it better had I been conscious of it...

No More Blue Roses.

It's the name of my new book. Had you asked me why only a week ago, when the phrase kept banging into my psyche like the endless lies of the (burning) Bush administration (you saw that coming, didn't you?), I would have told you that I didn't know why.

... But now, I know.

And I'm rather stunned.

After all, I don't know what a blue rose is - I don't particularly care. Horticulture is the last thing I was thinking about; this book is about families, people, and how self-interest is ultimately self-defeating. It's dark drama about broken people and high comedy about suicide. Honestly, it has nothing to do with roses of any color.

Or so I thought.

This morning, as I was about to start on the third chapter - I past the 10,000 word mark, BABAY! - I thought it might be interesting to find out just what a blue rose might be.

And I found this.

Turns out a blue rose is an elusive goal, a holy grail, a rare find. Something special and beautiful, fragile and exceptional.

And in the course of this novel (should I have the fortune to finish it), the characters learn that they aren't so exceptional and rare, to be catered to and and cared for. They are, in fact, very common and their commonplace lot puts them back on earth with everyone else. They learn that self-interest and self-absorption is poison. We focus on ourselves to our own detriment; only by helping others are we, too, helped.

By the book's end, there are no more blue roses.

I swear... Remember when I used to write plays with lots of dick and fart jokes???

Marital advice from a newlywed...

Okay, so I'm stealing this one from Garrison Keillor:

"There is almost no marital problem that can't be helped enormously by taking off your clothes."

So, how's that quitting smoking going, anyway...?

Yep, it's been two weeks.

Two weeks without a cigarette.

Can someone please take off this straightjacket? It's beginning to chafe.

I will admit this has been pretty tough, mostly because I think my brain thinks "once in a while" won't kill me. It may be right... but why quibble?

Here's what I do know. I can take a deep breath again. Seriously. You non-smokers don't know what this is about but I couldn't do it too well before. My singing voice is back, fit and fettle as ever... well, maybe not "as ever" but it's close and getting better every day. I ran 3.5 miles last night at the gym. I won't tell you how long it took me to run 3.5 miles but I did it and that's a good thing. I love running. I love singing. I love breathing.

I'd say it's going fine so far.

And I love to eat...

(I know, I'm posting like a wild man!)

Yep, the secret's out. (As if it ever was a secret!) And I found this great article on MSN I thought I'd share. (Think of it as "Gay Ken" time.) Because, not only do I love food but I love healthy food! How about these excerpts:

Cherries have a natural pain reliever and are great for gout and arthritis. They're also low in calories and low on the glycemic index. Kale is the superhero of vegetables, and if you can get organic, grass-fed beef, you're getting a super source of protein with a wonderful fat profile and none of the junk that's given meat such a bad rap, such as antibiotics, steroids and hormones.

Water: I know you don't really "eat" water, but I felt it was important enough to include because I think most people don't get enough of it. There's definitely conflicting info from experts about how much of it you need to drink, but I think drinking lots of water is key. It'll give you energy, make your skin look and feel better and fill you up.

Blueberries: Besides being the best tasting berry on the planet, blueberries are a superfood of sorts. They're a good source of A, C, iron, trace minerals and fiber. Their antioxidant properties mean they fend off cell damage and reduce the risk of cancer. Plus, they've recently been shown to help lower cholesterol. Some scientists think they also have the power to improve eyesight and memory, as well as age-proof skin.

Hot chili peppers: Just a sprinkle of chili pepper gives ordinary food a kick. Recent studies show the equivalent of one pepper a day can substantially cut your risk of some cancers. They give you a good shot of vitamin C as well.

So, tell me. What is your favorite HEALTHY food? (No. Twinkies don't count.)

Sometimes it ain't safe to be a writer...

Think only the "worst of the worst" (which is what Von Rumsfelt called these guys) are thrown into the torture chambers of Gitmo?

Think it's safe to be a writer?

Think again... and try to convince yourself that you hold no responsibility.

Uniformly Bad Behavior...

For how long have we equated appearances with truth? When will we wise up?

It seems like profession sports associations are jumping as fast as they can to nail dress codes on their players, dictating how they can dress off the court or field. How this started, I'm not privy to but I'm guessing it is the result of yet another player misbehaving and those who make the real money hoping to redirect attention. But are we really that stupid? Do we really think that a man in a suit is above blame? The problem of anyone's failure to behave stems not from what they wear but what they do and why they do it. Why don't we consider why someone does something? Maybe then we'll begin to see that boys with pituitary conditions and anger issues paid so much that they're out of touch with reality may not be the way to go... and maybe we'll see a return to sanity in, perhaps, this one area.

I'm not a big fan of dress codes of any kind, especially when it comes to school uniforms. The idea that uniform clothes with create uniform behavior is not just delusional; it's dangerous. That kind of thinking is a white flag - it says you don't know how to get kids to behave so you just hope that the herd mentality will keep them in check. In some cases, this might be right. I'm not going to say that school with a dress code don't keep their kids in check. What I will say is that should not be the priority.

We don't send kids to school to keep them in line. The goal of education is to learn to think, to empower the mind. You don't get kids to think by making them into automatons. You only get them to behave, and for all the wrong reasons.

When behavior is just about behavior, you see a disconnect between action and consequence. The reasons why are lost. So, kids play the game and behave at school or on the field but don't know what they means in their personal life. Why it is wrong to hit someone is not because you were told not to but because of many other reasons. Why it is wrong to lie is not because you were told not to but because of other reasons. (I won't give you those reasons. Try to think of some.)

When our schools are so under funded, however, that they don't have the time or the staff or the facilities to teach children, but only hope to get them to behave, we end up with the dress code mentality. And it's just plain wrong. Of course, you'll hear politicians talk about tax cuts and get you in line for the new tax cut, feeding your sense of greed and self-interest, and you'll forget that your self-interest is best served when everyone pays their share of the taxes.

And yes, that means a progressive tax, because the rich can afford to pay more. Robbing from the rich to help the poor was once a virtue because it does make sense. With the vast majority of this nation's wealth held by the mega-rich, the super millionaires, the top 1%, they can afford to do their share.

There's nothing wrong with taxation, you shouldn't fear taxation, when it is done fairly. Taxes pay for police and firemen, parks, clean street, and schools - and that is fair. That is right. We should pay taxes for these things and we should pay more. We are not overtaxed, as you can see when you look at other countries who are better off with a higher standard of living. When taxes are unfair, they go to pork for big business, welfare for the wealthy, and an illegal war that has already killed thousands.

Yesterday, the Senate was held in a closed session over the lies we were told about the war. The Republicans came out and said it was much ado about nothing. Was it? The proof of their lies is insurmountable, undeniable by anyone with any capacity for good, and yet people continue to die.

The starve our schools to pay for their unjust war and give us the same solution the Nazi's had: dress codes. And, if that wasn't enough, in the coming special election in California, they try to remove the blame from their failed policies of under funding the schools and put it on the teachers. They are now trying to blame the teachers.

Is it any wonder basketball players misbehave in a society that so obviously does not know right from wrong?

What we know about Alito...

Aside from overturning Roe v Wade, what else can we expect from Shrub's latest abomination?

Well, that bastion of LIBERAL news... BusinessWeek has this to say:


In the 800-plus opinions he has penned during his 15 years as a federal judge, Alito consistently has come down on the side of limiting corporate liability, limiting employee rights, and limiting federal regulation.


As if we needed more corporate gluttony, fewer worker's rights, and more pollution...

Question of the Week...

I'm in my post-Halloween grazing...

and I got to wondering...

What's the difference between Snickers and Baby Ruth?

Snickers: Nougat, Caramel, Peanuts, Chocolate
Baby Ruth: Nougat Caramel, Peanuts, Chocolate

And I love them both!

(Insert obligatory knock against Republicans, in such as way that it relates to candy bars, sexual deviancy, orifices, tax-cut for the mega-wealthy, and fucking the poor, here.)

But what's the dif? I mean, honestly!

And can I love them both???

Jibbin and Jabbin and, oh yes, what the hell is wrong with you people?...

I'm a little irritable this morning. Could be my bowels... but it's more likely that humanity is just pissing me off! So, please bear with me. I need to get some shit off my chest.

Let's start with Scooter. I've been hearing the pundits carry on about how Libby wasn't indicted for Treason and, therefore, ipso facto, in your face, he must not be guilty of it. Did you read Fitz's statements? He said that the lies in the White House were so thick that he spent two years trying to get through them. Not only do we have an administration based on lies (hello, he stole two elections), we're no better! Our society is knee deep in lies. You want to stop the lying in politics? Then, stop the lies in your life! I honestly believe it's one of those things that grows with time.

Next, Alito. After the neo-cons Borked Bush's attorney, they're happy to see Shrub nominate someone true to the faith. Make no doubt about it, folks. Alito is anti-woman's rights. The guy's crazy on the right-wing's Kool Aide and WILL see to it that Roe v Wade is overturned. Now, listen, if I was a woman, I'd be marching about this. They're stripping away what little rights you have - Woman's Rights is still a myth in this country - and you're sitting at home watching fucking Reality Television! I can only pray Vicky and I have a boy! You never see them try to strip away a man's rights, do you? Do you see a pattern here?

Lastly, one quick note about Iran. Look, I know there's been a lot in the news about Iran's comments about Israel. Let me toss out a little reminder: they are allowed to threaten people. They're a sovereign state. Tell you what. Why don't we stop our illegal war against people who never hurt us before we start complaining about someone else making threats. Can we do that? Or should we just have an election and officially name our government an Hypocrisy?

Rock-n-Disney

Now that Ken has told you all about our night at Mark & Brian's Disneyland Party, I am left with only a few things to say...

First, we had a great time with Jennifer & Joe. They are quite the couple and I believe that they will become good friends of ours. Someday, like Ken, I can just picture all of us going together with our kids.

Now, for the Haunted Mansion...my entire reason for wanting to go to Disneyland every year during the holiday season. My friend Jeff and I to Disneyland the first year they changed the Haunted Mansion into The Nightmare Before Christmas Haunted Mansion. This year was absolutely amazing and this was my favorite part of the entire night.

My second favorite thing that night...well as you know I won the tickets from a radio station...95.5 KLOS. For those that don't know, KLOS is a rock station and Mark & Brian are the morning DJs. Since Disneyland was closed for this private party there were a couple of different things. Most noticeably, there wasn't a crowd. Very nice. And, back to my second favorite thing, rather than piping Disneyland themed music throughout the park that night, Disneyland "allowed" KLOS to broadcast over the loudspeakers throughout Disneyland. Now, Disney technically owns KLOS, but still...when else will you be able to walk through Disneyland and listen to Led Zeppelin and Aerosmith!

Rock on Disneyland and KLOS!!!

Life chugs on like an engine... the chugging kind...

If there's one thing readers of my old blog, My Side, and readers of One Path have come to expect, it's the constant running of Kenneth around and around his mouse wheel. Actually, you don't so much go around it and it goes around you...

But before I begin, I gotta ask something: When did The Simpsons stop being funny? I watched an episode yesterday night, it was a newer episode I hadn't seen before, and I think I laughed twice. And I'm easily amused!! What happened?

So, the question floating around these parts is "What's next for the La Salle?" (Extra points for those of you who caught the redundancy.)

I've got an audition coming up that Stephanie turned me onto but I can't help but feel rather uncomfortable about the whole thing. I mean, I haven't been in a theater in over a year except to see a show and I've only seen a couple. I'm not really what you'd call a "theater person" anymore - if, indeed, I ever was. As always, I feel more comfortable behind a keyboard (the writing kind)... so...

I've started a new book. It's called "No More Blue Roses", for now. What with my life half-over and all, I've decided to finally write a book about dysfunctional families, suicide, fucked-up parents, really dig inside my well of sorrow and pull a comedy out by the blood vessels... you know? Earlier today, I wrote up a short synopsis for Vicky, after writing the first 4000 words. (This is nothing, folks, when you consider that the goal is 100,000!) Here it is - keep in mind it's only the beginning - let me know what you think:

Victor has always lived a selfish life. When he reads that his son, John, is contemplating suicide, he tries to reach out to him the only way he knows how - by making it about himself. Knowing that his son is planning to go to the Grand Canyon to kill himself, he hitches a ride. Soon, his other two children, Rhonda and Matthew, hear about it. Thinking it means that John will get to bond with the father they never had, they plan to stop it because they weren't invited along.

Disney with a few thousand friends...

How many of you have heard about how lucky Vicky is? (No, I don't mean to have me!.... although....) She has a gold thumb! She won us a trip to Hawaii. She won us some bucks on the lottery. And, last night we went to Disneyland when she won us tickets to the Mark & Brian (from KLOS) 50th Anniversary Disneyland... thing...

Vicky won four tickets and it took us a bit to figure out who to invite. Sean & Megan? No, Thursday night is their BINGO night. Trish & Clay? No... babysitter, required. But then, I remembered a couple who we hadn't spend any time with but who, for some reason or another, were totally our buds. Jennifer & Joe! I'll always have the memory imbedded in my mind of the two of them coming up to our table at the wedding and giving us great hugs and smiles (and a kiss from Joe... I can count my kisses with men on one hand!). Why not hang out with them? Sure! So, we invited them along, too.

(It's at this point that I wonder if Vicky has sent them a link to our One Path...)

We'd meet them there but had plenty to do beforehand. At 7pm, we left out house with arms filled with bags of bottles. See, if you brought 25 recyclable bottles, you could enter to win various prizes. (Those who have done any reading on pollution know that recycling bottles is like opening the refrigerator to cool the house on a hot day against the horrors that are industrial pollution. The real target is heavy industry but no one will go after them as long as there is money in politics, which is why campaign reform is so important! You were wondering how I'd throw a rant in, weren't you?)

Disneyland now has this ENORMOUS parking structure - the old parking lot is now known as Disney's California Adventure & Downtown Disney - and, being the first time I'd been there, I was pretty amazed. We parked, eventually, hiked out - that took a while - and went to the Will Call booth, where Vicky retrieved her tickets. Yeah! Then, we went to turn in our bottles. "I don't know why all these people are in line," Vicky said. "I'm going to win."

That's my Vicky, a wet tissue of self-confidence. We must prop her up!

The thing is, they also gave us our "Commemorative Mark & Brian 3D Posters"... which were too big to carry around for the next five hours... and that meant - shit - we had to go back to the car... And, so, we hiked and hiked back to the car, put away the posters, and hiked and hiked out of the parking structure to the tram, which took us to Disneyland, et al. Oy.

The tram stopped at Downtown Disney. How was I supposed to know it was the last stop? We got off (the tram, you pervert) and headed straight into - now, come on, guess... - the Disney Store. Ugh! But Vicky was like someone in a candy store going through her second childhood. How could I deny her? When she found a "Princess" hat that she liked, I made a sour comment about it but, honestly, how could I deny her? See, that's my problem - I can't say "No" to Vicky. But the beauty of Vicky is that she appreciates that without seeing how far she can take it. Rosa took that all the way to the bank, which made so much of our time together totally miserable. But Vicky doesn't take advantage of me... which can be a good or bad thing, depending on how you - anyway, she didn't get the hat and we proceeded to Disneyland.

For those of you who are familiar with the place, basically, they left the assembly area in front of the park intact but where the parking lot used to start is now California Adventure, with a huge CALIFORNIA standing before the entrance, each letter 10 feet tall. We passed through a rather lax security area - "Hi, my name is Achmed Bin Laden. Would you like to see my Anthrax?" "Keep the line moving, pal." - and proceeded to the "L" in CALIFORNIA, where we would meet Jennifer and Joe.

(By the way, in case your wondering, the couples in our extended group - or, at least, the women in the couples - have all conspired to have the woman's name first when referring to them. "Jennifer & Joe" "Trish & Clay" "Paula & Don" "Billie & Dan" "Vicky and Ken"... draw whatever conclusions you like.)

The line was enormous but we waited. The beauty about this evening was that only a few thousand people were invited - I'm guessing 10-15, based on some of Vicky's estimates - so we knew we'd get in without having to wait too long. When Jennifer and Joe showed, she popped into line and began our slow approach.

How do describe Jennifer & Joe? Well, they're a cute couple, obviously happy. They seem to be decent people. Jennifer is bouncy and vivacious. Joe is sarcastic and not too grown up. I liked them. (Mind you, I was the oldest one there, so...) More on them later.

Once inside, we moved very quickly to Space Mountain, which has just reopened. All the ads say that it's been totally "redone", whatever that means, and everyone, it seems wanted to find out how. Rather than wait in line - this was not a night about lines! - we hit Star Tours. I remember when this opened; I was so excited to go on! Now, well... meh! I was under whelmed. Hey, I'm 40, you know? Jaded by life! But it occurred to me that this would probably be my last time at Disneyland as a child, not a parent. Soon, Vicky and I will have a child, and I will be able to reexperience all of this through his or her eyes. So much for jaded...

Space Mountain was next and, though there was a line, it moved rapidly. We boarded... what looked like the same ride... and started... what looked like the same ride... and rode... the same - Hey! They didn't "redo" anything! It's the same ride!!! Jerks!

But we went from one side of the park to another after that and hit the "Nightmare Before Christmas" Haunted Mansion - the best part of the evening. That may be Vicky's favorite movie - and it doesn't even have Brad Pitt! We walked inside and, once it began in the circular elevator, she was all smiles, turning around and around, clapping her hands. She's so beautiful when she's happy and smiling! I just love seeing her that way! I watched her smile through the whole ride. God, I love her.

Then, to the Shmatterhorn (because Indy Jones broke down while we were in line) and a bite to eat and to the Castle for the kiddie rides: Pinocchio, Mr. Toad, Snow White...

And it was time to go.

Time just flew by.

We had a great time.

And I'd had so much fun with Vicky that I'd learned nothing about Jennifer and Joe, except... they're going to "work on" having a kid next year, just like us, but they already have three from Joe's previous marriage. While we were eating, Joe was telling us about some recent troubles with his son... who is a teenager. As I listened, I thought, "Boy, he's got it a lot more together than I ever will. I could take lessons from this guy." Without going into too many details, I will say that he seemed to both discipline his son and communicate with him. From what I can figure, that's a fine rope to walk. Good job.

So, I like them, which is good because, according to Vicky, they like me too... oh, wait. There is something wrong with them...

We said goodbye to them at the parking structure and began the hiking back to our car. Vicky was smiling from her night at Disneyland and so was I. I remembered the picture taken of us on Space Mountain - we looked like such a cute couple.

And so we were.

Should treason be pardoned?...

(Home sick as I write this - yuck!)

I don't know how much you've been following the news about the "outing" of Valerie Plame and how Mr. Fitzgerald's investigation leads all the way back to the lies we were told about Iraq leading up to the horrible war we now fight. I know I haven't mentioned it nearly enough.

Indictments will be coming down soon on quite a few people in (burning) Bush's staff. These charges will, more likely than not, be for treason and conspiracy. Now, historically, Republican administrations (from Nixon, to Ford, to Reagan, to Bush the first) will try to pardon their cronies who fall on a sword for them. Representative John Conyers has drafted a letter to Shrub asking that he respect the courts and not pardon his cronies.

Here's your opportunity to sign such a letter.

I'm thinking that we should all be able to agree on respecting a court ruling on treason... but that's just me.

For readers in California...

With the special erection coming up on November 8 - that being the one Ah-nold will have if his propositions win - I figured it might be a good idea to throw a little perspective on it.

If you haven't heard of Buy Blue, let me introduce you. They also have a great analysis of the coming election (hopefully, not the erection) online for you to read.

Enjoy it here. (The analysis, I mean...)

Monologues, novels, and things that make you want to puke...

Actually, I'm doing pretty well with the wanting to puke. I've had this stomach thing since yesterday that comes and goes... The funny thing is that Vicky had it last week and I was teasing her that she might be pregnant. Now that I have it, well, I guess I can say I'm not, either. The nice thing about that, if there is a nice thing, is that as I was hugging and kissing and loving on Vicky and the thought of us having a child, I think Vicky got the idea of what I'll be like when she does get pregnant... and not just sick.

Now that I'm sick, it's kind of getting in the way of other things, things that you think about when you think of Ken, things other than puking... I hope...

I've completed the first draft of my new monologue, which will be on the CD, "Ken 3.9, The Wedding". Actually, that's all the CD will hold. It's my first new monologue in... um... a long time, so I'm pretty nervous about it... sucking...

I've passed my latest novel, "With Eyes to See", on to my friend (through Vicky) Billie. Billie's a cop and, considering this book covers a lot of cop stuff (being a horror novel and all), I've asked her to pay close attention to the cop stuff and let me know how I can get it closer to the truth, if necessary. With any luck, I can start sending this out to agents by start of 2006.

I'm still waiting on "Vampire Society", which has been with one agent for a couple of months now. The thing is it's a very reputable agency and I want to give them every chance. The agent asked me to call if I don't hear from her in 12 weeks, which is coming up, and you can believe I will because, not only do I think this is an important book, I've learned something recently that makes it more marketable. Turns out that Morgan Spurlock (the guy behind "Supersize Me") is working on a new film about rampant consumerism, which is what "Vampire Society" is about - so I'm not the only one!

"A Grand Canyon" is still simmering on the back-burner. I finished it but I'm waiting on a little feedback. I gave a copy to my step-mom, Blanche, and to Sean, who you may remember from the wedding (those who were there). Blanche was unreserved with her praise - she loved it! She thought it was the best thing she'd ever read (both of mine and at all)! Well, it's one thing for your step-mom to say that... let's wait...

I've had a few ideas since then...

Then, about a week ago, I dreamed a name, "No More Blue Roses". I have no idea what the name means or why it sounds so compelling, but I like it. For some reason, thinking about this name, meditating on it (if you will), I think I'm closing in on my next novel, which is why I started writing this entry...

I know, I took the long way around - nice to meet you...

Turning 40 and entering into this new life with Vicky, I feel like it's time I wrote something different, for me at least. I'd like to write an old story in a new way - again, for me. So, the idea is that you have this completely dysfunctional family, a lot like the one I grew up in. The father, who left many years ago, is getting older and would like to try to connect with his 30 year-old son. The rest of the children go crazy with jealousy. Basically, the father reaches out but only shatters the frail unit he'd left behind.

Why this book? Well, I'm getting to that age, as are most of my contemporaries, where I'm beginning to look backwards as well as forwards. My scope is more peripheral. I can't help but look through the eyes of the child and ask, "Why did you do that?" while also seeing with the eyes of the father and answering, "I honestly don't know." I like to look at what you do when your kids say to you, "You knew about global warming in the 1970's but kept driving big cars??"

What do you say to a kid who honestly observes your mistakes?

Now, I've got the children's issue down pat. I mean, I kind of grew up with it. But I don't think that will be the focus of the book.

Maybe I'm looking back at the first half of my life and asking myself, "How could you have been such an idiot at times?" And maybe I'm looking for answers. Either way, we'll see if I do it...

Sure would be nice to get published, though, I can tell you that. I've written so many novels and plays with so little recognition that every time I hear someone tell me what a terrific writer I am, it makes me want to puke!

Hey...

And a few words about Scrabble...

You're probably going to expect me to say, "I'd rather play World of Warcraft"... and you'd have a point.

But Vicky and I were at Target last night, spending another of those wonderful gift cards many of you were nice enough to give us as a wedding gift, and - well - there it was. Scrabble.

Now, I wanted to get Vicky something she'd enjoy, that we could have fun with... that they sold at Target. I was sick of looking at practical items! When I asked her if she liked Scrabble, she practically jumped up and down like a cheerleader, clapping. Okay, I figured, she might like it.

And we got it. We had to break it in last night so we set it up on our coffee table - and we got the kind where you can swivel the board, of course - and commenced. Vicky was kind enough to let me use the dictionary. Mind you, this only made the game last longer... She played brilliantly. You probably guessed that, huh? Thankfully, for my pride, she let me win in the end. It was a good game. And it turns out she prefers that to watching TV, which is fine by me. (In my mind, TV = Stupid. Sure, there are times when you just want to kick back and turn it on but I like to have something more stimulating as well.)

So, don't be surprised if we try to coax you into a game of Scrabble - for those of you who visit. Vicky may let you use the dictionary and she may let you win.