TIVO and DVR's...The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread!

I've always touted the greatness of DVR's (Digital Video Recorders). But, until Shannon's surgery yesterday, I never knew just how great!

First, the bad news...We watch alot of TV. I mean alot. If we watch less than 50 hours per week, I would be surprised. So, needless to say, when something pops up like a surgery, it's a relief to know that our best friends will be with us when we get home (our shows, of course!).

After staying with Shannon for 14 hours at the hospital, it was nice to be comforted by Earl Hickey when I got home. And Gil Grissom tucked me in. And, I woke up to Captain Janeway saving the Delta Quadrant.

And Shannon gets to recover to hours and hours of her old friends, too!

Man, love is grand. But Technology may be even grander!

Tough Moment

I generally try to be jovial in these posts, but right now my wife is in surgery.

It's nothing serious...although all surgery should be taken seriously. It's, as us men would say, "woman's stuff."

We've been married for 12 years, and neither one of us has had any surgery before, so this is a different sensation. The doc just told me it would take about an hour and a half.

I think it will be the longest hour and a half in my life.

But it gives me plenty of time to think about how much I love that lady, and how much God blessed me by giving her to me.

On a lighter note, though, about twenty seconds after they hooked her up to the happy juice, she was acting like she had had 10 shots of tequila.

Now, that was jovial!

Reliving a Cereal Childhood

I was a pretty conservative little kid growing up.

I didn't climb trees or fences. I made my friends sit through the credits at the end of movies. I thought it was a good idea to leave for school early to see if there was anything the teacher needed help with before class. I loved classical music. And the only cereal I would eat was Wheaties.

Okay...maybe not so much conservative as boring and nerdy.

But in hindsight, the Wheaties thing was probably some type of catalyst for me. Sure, it probably started because of Bruce Jenner on the box. But something stuck.

Flash forward several decades. I'm in the cereal aisle at Walmart. I reach for the Wheaties, but something compells me to continue searching. Searching. Searching.

And there it is. Like a light in the dark.

Frankenberries.

With guilt, and perhaps a little shame, a grabbed the box.

At home, I placed the childish box on the top shelf, perhaps hoping that I would forget about my impetuous move. But, alas, I gave in to it's tempting call...

I opened the protective bag, and a "poof" of fruity, sugary heaven wafted towards my nose. My gosh...it smelled...wonderful!

The colorful pink and red morsels crashed to the bottom of my bowl. Then, in one fateful moment, I drowned them in a wash of fat free milk. Hopefully, the fat free would counteract the spike of sugar about to enter my system.

Then, the seductive dance began. I dipped my spoon, and out of the ceramic tomb arose the glistening breakfast treat. The light from the flourescent kitchen bulb hit just right, making it look like a work of art from DaVinci himself!

Then...then I ate it. One bite. Then the next. I couldn't stop. It was delicious! Is this what I missed during my childhood years? Would my life had differed had I plunged into the world of sugar ladened cereals instead of my old friend Wheatie?

I do not know.

But I do know this...I think I'll have another bowl.

LifePointe Media Guy Ponders 42

Today, I am 42. Do you know what the signifigance of 42 is?

According to The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, a race of vast pan-dimensional hyper-intelligent beings constructed the second greatest computer in all of time and space, Deep Thought, to calculate The Ultimate Answer to The Great Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything. Distracted by a demarcation dispute with two philosophers, a "simple answer"is requested. After seven and a half million years of computing cycles, Deep Thought's answer is: forty two.

-"I think the problem is that the question was too broadly based..."
-"Forty two?!" yelled Loonquawl. "Is that all you've got to show for seven and a half million years' work?"
-"I checked it very thoroughly," said the computer, "and that quite definitely is the answer. I think the problem, to be quite honest with you, is that you've never actually known what the question is."

Well, as I ponder turning 42 today, I believe that Deep Thought was correct...I don't really know what the question is.

Not to get too philisophical, but I seem to always be searching for the answers, but the question is what is really elusive.

Captain Picard (ALERT: Star Trek Reference Approaching) put it best in the movie Generations: "I fear I have more years behind me than in front of me."

How many of us spend it all searching, and none of it enjoying? Mary Kay (Yes, the Cosmetic Queen) once said that too many people die with their music still inside.

Wow. What a cool, and true, thought.

As the years whip by, it's hard not to feel regret for lost moments and opportunities. But, If the good Book (the Bible, not "The Big Bathroom Book of Jokes IV") taught us anything, it's that God absolutely does not want us to live in the past. Regret is futile, and harmful.

So, on this brisk Kentucky Fall day, I will celebrate the fact that humanity has been blessed to know me for the past 42 years. I will not ponder my failings and faults, and I will not feel old today. I will treat it like a re-birth!

That is, if a slice of quadruple chocolate fudge cake with caramel-coconut frosting doesn't kill me first!

The Numbers are In!

The people have spoken...I will be a Speedo model in my next job! I'm shaving my legs as I write. Wait...I don't have to shave? Oh well...

Now, on a more morbid note, if it was your last meal, what would you choose? Let us know on the new poll to the right.

Fightin' Irish, Bengals and other Disappointments

Yesterday was the frosting on a very bitter cake.

With hope all but waining, the Bengals only had to beat the dirty cheating Steelers in order to keep playoff hopes slimly alive. But, alas, one victory in my weekend was too much too ask. By the end of the pitiful game, the Steeler faithfull were waving their "terrible towels" in gleeful victory, and I was left pouting in my recliner, with a spaghetti sauce stain from earlier in the evening gracing my sweater.

Earlier in the evening, I was treated to the painful reminder that my Fighting Irish (of Notre Dame, not my upstarirs neighbor) had failed miserably this season as the teams for college bowl games were announced.

The night before, my Wright State Raiders (Dayton, Ohio's other team) lost a basketball game to Marist. To Marist.

The one great spot of the weekend was Saturday lunch at the new Chinese Buffet down the road. Lots of selection. Good Crag Rangoon.

But, man...I would love to know the thrill of victory instead of the taste of defeat. I periodically threaten to switch allegiances, but my friend Ross reminds me that a sports "turncoat" is worse than a traitor to your nation. Oh, well...

Then I thought about reading a book. Too many pages, though...

I suppose I can resurrect my annual motto: "Wait til next year!"

For now, I think I'll enjoy some more crab ragoon. And maybe, just maybe, a little General Tsao's...