after school special

my cousin weston is a sophomore in high school. he got himself in a spot of trouble with a senior -- a good sized senior -- on account of the senior's girlfriend. apparently she was "talking to" weston. apparently "talking to" is a new category of relationship. it's the step after just crushing and before "going together." obviously this senior could not stand for such behavior and so his people scheduled a little conflict resolution with weston's people: after school, under the bleachers. weston missed the appointment. but weston couldn't run forever. the senior caught him when weston was out playing football with some of his fellows.  turns out that senior shouldn't have been so eager for a showdown. and i can tell you this story because some enterprising observer got the whole thing with their iphone and posted it on youtube. nothing's secret people. observe my boy weston -- the one in the blue shorts.

vote the bums out

so... you've seen the front pages, with all those downward trending arrows. all that red ink running down the front page would be our market, our economy, the future of our country. and while i've got a load of moral problems with digging out wall street after their reckless credit spree, it's clear the bail-out matters. stocks around the world rise and fall and banks fail or live to fight another day based on the word from the floor -- not the trading floor of the NYSE, mind you, but the floor of congress. and though our representative government can't pull it together to agree on a plan to salvage the wreck of our economy, they WERE able to agree on $630 billion budget bill yesterday. it was crafted in secret, voted on before anyone could read the 300 + pages and filled with at least $20 billion of pork for pet projects, and more for oil and auto industry subsidies... oh, and almost $500 billion --  a record-breaking outlay -- for the Pentagon for those twin regime-change projects in iraq and afghanistan. i get it. it's an election year and our congress people have to give back for the hefty campaign contributions they've received from big business, and defense, oil and auto give big in election years. but why aren't the little people getting together and teaching our representatives about fiscal responsibility by voting the bums right out of a job?  try balancing YOUR budget on the unemployment line, fella. 

i'm just saying. 

love is a battlefield

or worse, if you believe mai at nail magic in old town. every now and then i get my nails did. i'm not ashamed. not to stereotype, but mostly may nail groomers hail from asian lands, like mai from vietnam.

just after i picked my shade of polish ("bashful blossom" -- a delicate pink that suits my demure personality) i asked mai for a story -- to tell me how she came to be in virginia. i got a profile in courage. mai left vietnam in the late 70's -- a few years after the communists took power. she was just a young woman but she felt the oppressive rule was going to kill her. her parents consented to fund her dream to escape vietnam for the refugee camps in the philippines. they gave her their life savings and entrusted her with her little pre-pubescent sister and mai bid her parents forever farewell.

she shouldn't have survived the five day boat ride. 100 people packed so tightly on a dingy built for 20 that sitting wasn't an option. mai stood for five days -- she thought the heat and smell and bodies packed tightly was going to kill her. and then both god and man took a shot at sinking her. first a massive storm so strong it knocked people overboard and caused the boat to take on water and then a shipful of pirates rammed and boarded their sad little boat, robbing the refugees of everything and kidnapping the young girls. mai's little sister was grabbed up and then somehow left behind with mai. after the pirates, the boat was sinking for real, but just before disaster claimed the ship, a german oil rigger found and saved the pitiful, helpless lot.

if she'd know about the dangers in her path, would mai have embarked on the journey? mai says yes. her risk was worth her shot at independence. freedom = happiness. she was willing to sacrifice and even die for that freedom and she'd do it again if she had to. now that's some love of freedom... a true story of patriotism. happy independence day everybody! revel in your freedom that everyone in the world wants but YOU enjoy!

but... that's not all mai had to say. as i was leaving, she noticed i didn't have a ring -- was i single? yes, mai. yes i am. she said: "make sure you marry man who loves you more. you love him too much, too risky." excuse me? this is coming from "no risk too great" mai? advising for the safe yet infinitely less awesome path? love, she said, shouldn't factor into the marriage decision. "too much worry. what if something happens? what if he no love you? what if he leaves?"

mai. i feel you. there are terrible, devastatingly painful risks associated with really loving someone... and they are more frightening to me than a raging storm on the high seas or being sold into slavery by a philipino pirate. i've both shied from these risks out of pure fright, and also jumped right in and felt anguish when my greatest fears (what if something happens? what if he leaves?) were realized. love isn't for sissies. it requires courage but a different brand than what mai had to summon to leave behind the life she knew for the unknown. it's one thing to die for a cause, afterall, and quite another to live for it. the struggle for a good mutually loving relationship is all about have the courage to surrender some independence, some control of your feelings and destiny, right?

pat benatar was so right. love IS a battlefield. a fight mostly with yourself probably. but, dear mai, i think i want to stay in the battle and not surrender to the safe, neutral zone of no risk, no love. not yet anyway. 

spring in dc is a miracle

it's been a sensory-overloading spring. blue skies, puffy white clouds, blossom laden branches, sweet lilac blooming everywhere and oh... the azaleas. they're my favorite. i got photographic evidence of the best spring ever, but you'll have to wait until my bro-in-law passes along the pictures we took on his uber fancy camera. but for now, here's a pretty shot gary snapped. and the change of template color? it's about spring. plus i heard green is sooo hot right now.

word to my mother

dear mother nature, why do i keep missing your awesome displays of power? all my life, i've wanted to see a tornado... and i missed it by a day. i mighta delayed my trip to guantanamo if only i'd known southern virginia was going to host six twisters monday. but no. you don't work that way. you like to just drop in. in the future, a little notice would be appreciated if you're going to go against your own laws and drop a tornado in hurricane country. 

p.s.  thank you for sparing lives (200 injuries, no fatalities). 

and p.p.s. my cousin isn't too happy about his strip mall (the above picture is the remains of a strip mall my cousin, scott, developed and owns...er...owned).   

why i do what i do

i make movies. i just hope to one day make them THIS well.

mom jeans

tonight was one of the rare evenings i actually find myself in dc ... and so a friend arranged for a little dinner. trouble was we had to go to the institute linger longer to rally with the rest of our posse. i can't say i was looking forward to this part, but i pulled on my skinny oh so trendy jeans -- to fit in with the younger crowd at the 'tute. and i left the house feeling a little self-satisfied with my awesome hair day. my dome has tended towards big and fuzzy since i grew out my hair but tonight it went curly, like i like it best. (not brushing it is the key, people).

so i'm sitting on the stage at the linger longer, chatting with my buddy ben when a mentally handicapped brother comes up to us. edmund is happy and chatty and offers up a couple of hugs, and then begins to dispense the pure unrestrained honesty that only spurts forth from the very guileless and very childlike. oh, the pain of complete and undefiled honesty! edmund tells ben he looks like he has a desk job and maybe works out once in a blue moon. when ben protested, edmund amended his observation. no -- you look like a traveling salesman, he says. i had a good laugh at that but the laughter dried up when edmund turned that tractor beam of honesty on me. me -- i look like a stay-at-home mom. i didn't want any more of edmund's feedback, but of course ben wanted to know what gave me away. edmund's tip off: my mom hairstyle and (this one leaves a mark) the jeans. my pricey "skinny" uber trendy jeans look like mom jeans! it appears my tastes are getting a little too... mature --you might even say "age appropriate" -- or i need to 1. get a new mirror and 2. donate some denim to good will because as much as i admire the strong, wonderful ladies out there loving their babies and doing their thing day in, day out, "stay-at-home mom" was NOT the look i was going for when i got ready for the evening. oh. the truth does NOT set you free.

for the record, edmund thought i was either 19 or 23. so i guess that's something.