Say goodbye to your day

...and visit here.

It's called the "Impossible Quiz," and they may be right. None of the questions is quite what it seems. The answers are not always obvious. Heck, they're not always one of the four given choices. You must learn as you go. And remember, here is the box: [];




here is where you must think.

No, really.

Have fun!

Happy Birthday!

I'm 1!

1, 2, 5!

Wow...3 years later (as of yesterday) and my blog is still rolling along. Who'd have thought I could keep doing something for so long? And I think I now have enough readers to count on two hands. (Sweet!)

And now, as then, I'll be walking for the babies in two weeks. 14 days from today, I'll meander down the boardwalk with my wife and kids, one of which has directly benefitted from the work that the March of Dimes does. So, if you can, please add to our collection here.

So many changes over the years: format, my links section, the comments, labels. Perhaps I'll play with the look again over the next few days.

--Beav ("Still crazy after all these years")

That's not a tear, it's sweat dripping out of my eye!

Dorm Chief: "A 3-2-2 Graduate is:"
Flight: "Hard-working, motivated, trustworthy, dedicated. Never, ever be outdone. That's because we're second to none! A-oof!"
DC: "A-what?"
F: "A-oof!"
DC: "A-what?"
F: "A-oof! A-oof! A-oof!"

It is bizarre what memories surface from nowhere. 13 years ago, I learned that chant - and lived it - in Basic training.

I'm not easily susceptible to brainwashing, but it was nice to believe, for a time at least, that everything was as simple as having all your shoes aligned perfectly under your bed. To fear nothing more than your TI finding a T-shirt not properly grounded in your wall locker. When I accepted the label "Protestant" because it meant getting out of the barracks for a couple hours every week, and the service was dominated with singing and joyfulness. (The irony, of course, is that my date of enlistment is one day before my pacifistic mother's birthday. Happy Birthday, Wabbitt!)

When today's hard decisions creep up and sit in your belly, it's a little comforting to look back, feel the pride of belonging to "Mother Russia - the 322nd Training Squadron," and tell myself that it's all so simple.

--Beav ("Permission to adjust!")

Truth is...

Last night, I finally watched Stranger Than Fiction. Its surface provides an interesting, original storyline and great acting: a highly entertaining movie. But underneath (you know me, how can I just let it go at surface?), it's even more compelling.

In case you missed it, Harold Crick begins to hear his life narrated, and one of the first things the narrator reveals is his imminent demise. He goes first to a therapist, and then to a literature professor (Dustin Hoffman). As they explore to determine what type of story Harold's life is (in order to determine his oncoming fate), they come to realize that he's not really living (I know, big surprise). A small point that I found interesting: as Harold goes through his day ticking off Comedy or Tragedy to categorize things that happen in his day, and every time he makes a declaration of which he thinks it's going to be, I would have said the other.

More in the comments, but don't go, if you haven't seen it, 'cause "Here there be spoilers!"