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| Once there was a family that would, on occasion, travel together to visit one of the dad's old friends: a strange character named Mr. Xanadu. Mr. Xanadu’s house was a wonderfully mysterious and magical place, secluded in a far-off, hard-to-reach forest. It was a huge and ancient house that seemed a veritable maze of corridors, stairways and rooms. On each of these visits – some would say adventures – some of the family members, if not all, would end up wandering off together and would eventually get shut into one of the closets in the maze of rooms. And when they did, they would inevitably end up being transported to some strange – occasionally spooky – place. It could be a jungle or mountaintop or microscopic world or underwater city or parallel universe or… almost anywhere. But ALWAYS, the adventure was somehow concluded, and the family was safe and ready to head home. Eventually, though, the children in this family grew up and some moved away to far-off places: not the bed-time, story-book places of Mr. Xanadu’s house, but real places with too-real adventures. Once, however, even though they were physically separated from each other, several of the family members found themselves mysteriously transported to the same alternative world. It was as if they each had been shut-up in their own separate closets but ended up wandering in the same lightless world. At first they each thought that they were alone... but, after a dreadful while they heard the faint, familiar voices of other family members echoing around in the darkness. Following each other's voices, they eventually drew nearer and nearer to one another... until... finally... they could see that they were not alone, not one of them. And being together, even in such a dark place they were filled with hope: hope that even this adventure would be concluded and that once again the family would be safe and ready to head home. [With love for the family and with thanks and apologies to C.S. Lewis.] | | |
| Even though I'm not sure of the way, I have managed to arrive there. We're finishing up our research project in San Jose today. Unfortunately the most I get to see of it is looking out the hotel windows at palm trees, and the drive to/from the research facilities. Tomorrow I get to return home to the Wife of My Youth. I miss her so much. I want to kiss her, and hug her, and nibble on her ears... All of a sudden, it's getting hot here. | | |
| Greetings from Philadelphia. I'm here doing research for work. I really miss my family, especially that good looking wife of mine. Today I had the chance to go to lunch with Jim, an old friend from Amtrak. After lunch I decided to take a leisurely stroll back to the hotel where I'm staying (after all, it is only a little over a mile). Bad idea!! It was around 90 degrees here, and because the sun was directly overhead, there wasn't much shade along the long stretch of skyscrapers. I thought I was going to die! Panting, sweating; it was just so sad. I knew I was out of shape and about 413 pounds overweight, but this was ridiculous. The question is, is this enough of a wake up call for me to get in shape and start exercising regularly? I hope so, but first I need to go find one of those famous Philly Cheese Steak sandwiches. | | |
| No, that title wasn't a typo. I am so thrilled that we finally have a new house. Yeah, baby!! It seemed like it took forever to jump through all the hoops. But, for the moment, the sweetness of having a new home is slightly tempered by the sweat it will take to get moved in. It's probably a further indication that I'm just getting way too old. Of course, the sweat will likely just make it that much sweeter when we are finally settled in. So... Praise the Lord and pass the Right Guard. | | |
| Dateline: 6/6/06 12:06 A.M. - I was tossing and turning in my sleep and everytime I drifted back to a troubled sleep, he was there: the anti-Christ. I'm not sure why he had decided to usher in his special day by tormenting me - maybe he just thought I would be a fun target, or at least, a good sport about it. Seriously... every time I got back to sleep he was there - Freddie Kruger style - waiting for me, taunting me, gloating about ushering in his kingdom. It was really disturbing but after several rounds of this it started to feel a little too Hollywood - complete with goat heads. After that it started to feel a little less scary. For a long time I had come to believe - as my wife Lori has always asserted - that the anti-Christ would more likely be a woman. Who would suspect a woman? Then - bam - it would be too late - and she would be sitting on top of the world. Actually, I think that is a scarier thought than the goat-head guy haunting my dreams. I think I'll sleep a lot better now, but I will be keeping a close eye on Ellen DeGeneres. | | |
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