Life is such a sweet insanity.

I've been haunting the American Idol message boards again on idolonfox.com. I take a perverse pleasure in getting all the teenyboppers wired up with my flippant comments.

For example, one of the remaining contestants is named "Anwar". I just refer to him as "Anwart". You'd think I had just set their hair on fire the way they go on about it. He's not even that good of a performer, the way he sings through his nose and bats his eyes like a really bad Disney character. News for Anwart, batting eyes does not work well on the radio. I've tried.

Then there's Constantine which I refer to as Constantscream. Someone posted that he reminds them of "Lnt. Dan" on Forrest Gump, I thought she typed "Lint" and commented that he does look like belly button lint. The teenage cell phone set really didn't like that one.

It's the one liners, little zingers, that work the best. I especially like responding with "Who the hell is Fantasia?" in her fan club. Like the American public remembers that mess of a winner from last year. Thank God I'm not in radio anymore.

One thing we all seem to agree on is that Paula Abdul is looking either very drunk or very stoned these days. Hell, Brett Somers and Charles Nelson Reilly seemed much more sober on the old "Match Game", and they were drinking three meals a day at the time, with a beer chaser no less.

I was really excited about American Idol at the beginning of this season but I've kind of lost interest. The remaining contestants are mediocre at best, each deserving a "Meh" as far as I'm concerned. No one will remember who they were next year.

Speaking of radio - I heard a really, really good dance song on Sirius 66 "The Beat" today that has Wings' "Silly Love Songs" in the background. I need to find the name and artist of that track.

I found the title: "Come Rain Come Shine" by Jenn Cuneta. Fabulous! Update: Now I know why I like the vocalist. She was "J Cee" back in 1998 and performed at Wow FM's Summer Bash II! I've met her. I've talked with her! It's a fabulous track and she's fabulous!

Now back to my juvenile behavior over on idolonfox.com.

I was listening to the gay radio station on Sirius radio this afternoon on the way home from lunch and I heard them talking about the executive director of the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children. I've mentioned that I plan on riding in the Ride for Missing Children again this year, as I did back in 2003. According to this show I was listening to, the Executive Director made some somewhat homophobic remarks about gays being in the Boy Scouts and that old tired story.

It's got me thinking about whether I want to ride in the Ride this year or make a charitable donation to a more open-minded, child-oriented charity instead. Would my contribution to the ride be welcome?

Something to think about.

Today is officially a sweet day. The birds are coming back home after vacationing in the south for the winter. The sun is out. The temperatures are in the mid 50s. The snow is disappearing quickly.

It's days like these that make it all worthwhile. On-call doesn't seem as bad. Worries seem to follow the snow and disappear.

Tom is getting a little picky with going outside as he gets older. When he first joined the family eight years ago, he was outside regardless of weather. Even in the deadest of winter, he'd go out, sit on the porch and survey the area to make sure everything was as he intended. Since moving to the new house last year, he doesn't seem nearly as interested in going out in the wintertime. It's the same routine day after day. He'll make motions like he wants to go out. I'll open the door. He'll sniff the air, catch a glimpse of something and stare at it for about 10 seconds, twitch his tail three times and then he's done. As the nicer weather grabs hold, now he's in and out like a yo-yo. Out the back door. In the front door. Out the front door. In the back door. This afternoon I've finally given up and just left the back door open during my lunch hour. There's really no bugs to worry about this time of year, and the fresh air does wonders for the house. And he can come and go as he pleases. Since I've started writing this entry, he's been in and out around 15 times. A stroll around the deck, inside to eat two bites of kibble and then back outside. I think my lunch hour is disturbing his routine or something.

My only frustration with the onset of spring is that I can't get out there and ride my bike because of on-call week. I'm hoping that everything stays nice through next week so I can get out there Monday night and do some serious training. The Ride For Missing Children is a month and a half away, and I need to get my legs in shape. By the way, if you're interested in contributing to this worthy cause, please contact me. Any amount is most welcome.

If you get the opportunity, get out and enjoy the weather. Put some spring in your step!

With Earl out of town tonight and with me on call, I was a little bored. So I decided to fool around with our digital camera and see what I could do with a tripod and a timer. I even played "I'm Too Sexy" by Right Said Fred and turned on the fan to blow around my hair. Having a shaved head and all, you probably couldn't tell.

Here's my "bad boy" look.

Today I started another week of on-call duty. I have mixed feelings about the whole on-call thing. On one hand, the geek in me really appreciates the fact that I have the responsibility of on-call and that a whole telephone network is relying on my organization and knowledge to keep it running. God help us all. On the other hand, when I'm on call I feel like I have an electronic leash in the form of a pager. I'm unable to cross an imagined boundary around our house lest I get zapped and beckoned back. Last time I was on call I tried to eat in the mall food court. I had just paid the cashier and had been handed my chopsticks when "beep beep beep beep beep!", a SigAlert for WonderTech. I shot away the food after nibbling one bite of my Bourbon Chicken and headed out, looking for the closest phone booth or better yet, a dark corner where I could spin into my WonderTech stars and stripes.

I had a friend who got one of those electronic dog collars for his dog. He proclaimed the wonders of the Invisible Fence. Being a true humanitarian, he tried the collar on himself and ran across the fence's boundary to feel what it did to his dog. It knocked him on his ass.

What a fool.

This whole electronic leash concept can be frustrating at times. I'm not one to be bound against my will, kinky weekends in the woods notwithstanding. (Did you hear that sound like someone was falling out of a chair? It was my mother collapsing on the floor as she read that last sentence). Anyways, I think of myself as a free spirit. Quicksilver. A fleeting shadow, a distant sound... now I'm paraphrasing Endora's speech in the second episode of Bewitched.

Anyways, when I'm on call I end up surfing the internet. A lot. You'd think I'd be sick of the computer since I have to stare at it all day and half the night. But I always find little interesting tidbits to look at. For example, way back in December I mentioned that Earl and I saw another bearish couple while we Christmas shopping but didn't know who they were or where they were from. We just exchanged knowing glances, a wave and moved on. Surfing around for information on the upcoming pride celebrations this spring, I found one of the guys pictured on a site about a gay sculpture being erected in Rochester (It's by the Atlantic-Beacon Sculpture Committee). That was kind of cool. It certainly makes this world seem like a much smaller place!

As far as Mondays go, this one hasn't been too bad. I've started working out again. Thank goodness for my iPod. It makes cycling and jumping around like a fool, all in the name of exercise, bearable. I've found that working out in the morning kickstarts the day in a good way.

I'd tell you more, but my leash in beeping.

I like to think of myself as an organized geek. Everything has a place and every place has a thing, even on a hard drive or webserver. Imagine my surprise when I found this page buried on our website.

I made this page quite a while ago and somehow never built a link to it. I had completely forgotten about it. That's not like me. Being my dramatic self, I wonder if I'm slowly losing my damn near perfect memory as time goes on.

What was I saying?

I routinely blab about my desire to lose some weight and eat healthy. It's been somewhat difficult following that path the past week or two, mostly because I'm lazy, a little bit due to the weather and somewhat because of my surgery two weeks ago. However, there is one other factor contributing to my binging ways.

It's Girl Scout Cookies season.

Earl and I had thought that we had made it through Girl Scout Cookies season unscathed. "We made it through without a ton of Simoas!" "Thin Mints be damned, we're going to be thin!"

Last Sunday Earl and I did a little shopping. On our way out of Media Play, I noticed a card table stacked with colorful boxes, a hand lettered decorative sign and a cute young lady decorated with pins and badges like a four star general, accompanied by her adult chaperone. She smiled an innocent little smile and asked "Would you like to buy some Girl Scout Cookies?"

How can you say no to that innocent face.

Being victims of Girl Scout Cookies seasons of past, we instantly noticed that there was a new type of cookies this year. I'd tell you the name, but the box never made it home. These cookies, as described by our salesperson, "if you like icing and cinnamon with a touch of strawberry, these cookies are for you" were absolutely delightful. Earl and I weren't even out of the store parking lot before the plastic was removed and we were downing the cookies.

As I wiped the crumbs off my face with my sleeve, eyes glazed in sugar induced nirvana, I gazed at the back of the box looking at the nutrition information. "200 calories". Two hundred? For this whole box?

Silly me. For two cookies. I didn't even want to venture into fat grams land.

Oh well. That was the best 1,200 calories pig fest I had enjoyed in a long while. You'd think that we had consumed our $3.00 purchase quickly and that the Girl Scout Cookies threat was over with for the year.

No.

We'd actually purchased four, as in one, two, three, four, as in thousands of calories, as in Thin Mints, Simoas, Peanut Butter somethings and these cookies I can't remember the name of.

Maybe we'll have better luck next year.

At work we have a 13-inch television that constantly shows CNN. The volume is turned all the way down, so we kind of have to improvise with what's going on with the screen. Unfortunately, it's been rather easy this week. It's all about Terri Schiavo.

I understand that Mrs. Schiavo's family is going through a lot of turmoil, to put it mildly. I understand that there are many ways you can look at the situation. I guess I'll have to throw my two cents into the ring.

I believe that people should be able to do what they want without fear of human reprisal, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else. That's why I am reading and studying wicca, the wiccan rede is "An ye harm none, do what ye will." If everyone believed in that and would just mind their own business, the world would be a better place.

As I see it, Mrs. Schiavo's lungs are functioning without mechanical assistance. Her heart beats as a normal heart would, again without medical assistance. They say her brain activity is minimal. But she still has brain activity. Her time has not come, for if it had she would no longer be with us. She would have crossed to the other side by now.

I do not believe the government should be involved with this situation. Quite frankly, it's none of our business and really shouldn't be plastered all over the cable news networks, network news, newspapers and internet. This is for the family to sort out without legal, public or media intervention. That being said, I do not believe Terri Schiavo should be lying in a bed starving to death. I can not imagine what her husband is going through. Nor her parents. But I do know that her heart still beats and her lungs still function. Again, it would appear that her time has not come. And those that are living should receive food. God, the Goddess, the Universe, whomever you pray to, is all-perfect. They do not make mistakes. Terri Schiavo is here for a reason. When her time comes, she shouldn't die of hunger.

The Bewitched trailer is available online, for anyone interested in seeing it. I'm now doubly excited about this movie coming out! I'm like a little kid eagerly looking forward to the holidays.

I decided to celebrate the arrival of spring by spending lunch time out and about rather than dashing home at a mad pace. For the most part, throughout the winter my lunch has been a relaxing exercise of shooting home at frenetic pace, eating lunch en route, petting the cat and surfing the 'net and writing my latest piece of witty blog wonder and returning to work with two minutes to spare.

Anyways, today I needed something different. So I decided to go wardriving. For those not familiar with the exercise, wardriving involves bringing along a notebook computer or something else that can sniff out Wi-Fi networks and seeing if they're available for public consumption. I've mentioned before that I'm a good guy in that I don't try to crack the security of any networks I find. Serious wardrivers bring along their GPS units and write down the location coordinates, where you can submit the data to a mapping website for all the world to see. I would be doing the same, but I was stumbling around this morning at 5:30 and neglected to pack to the GPS hardware.

I did find a wonderful Wi-Fi spot at the local Radisson Hotel that is completely free. I tried to inconspicuously park outside the Radisson so that I could surf the internet but I felt somewhat dirty doing so, like I was stalking someone. Like I should be wearing a trench coat and holding my hand between my legs. I know that's a weird thought that may offer insight as to what goes on in my head, but there you are.

So after the Radisson I moved along to a local Bagel shop who advertises free internet access. However, the hotspot was nowhere to be found. I considered going inside and peeking around but resisted the urge after deciding that I wouldn't be able to leave without an "Everything" Bagel. Those "Everything" Bagels are wonderful, but they don't fit the diet well and my breath afterwards melts anything within 10 feet of me. Not sexy but oh so good. Maybe next time.

Rumor has it that McDonald's has internet access at its stores. As usual, our McDonalds must be left out of the loop as their was no access at the two stores I visited. Hell, we just got the Big Mac a couple of years ago. It was easy to resist any urges to visit that restaurant.

So now I'm at the baseball stadium parking lot that Earl and I eat lunch at in the summertime. I wonder if the house across the street figured out that their internet connection was completely insecure, because I can't access it anymore. Maybe they just moved.

Earl mentioned to me last night that my blog has been well, boring, to the average reader during the month of March. I guess he can't believe how much I've obsessed about my surgery and associated failings. He said that he hadn't realized how much this was affecting me.

He should know better than that. Every man, gay or straight, obsesses about his penis.

Now I mentioned yesterday that I wasn't really going to talk about my surgery anymore, since it appeared that everything had gone as planned and everything was working properly.

I lied, but just a little bit.

I am just so giddy with excitement that I can urinate like every other man in the world now. I am drink tons of water just to see it come out! "Wow, look at that! All done in less than 10 seconds! It used to take a really long time!" I want to play show and tell - I want to beckon people into the bathroom with me and do my thing in the urinal and say "Look what I can do now! I could never do that before!". I suppose that would be a terribly unprofessional thing to do at work and would probably result in some sort of indecency charge. So I restrain myself from doing that.

I feel like some sort of huge burden has been lifted from my shoulders! In the past 24 hours I've been more confident about myself than ever. People at work today have commented that I "look good", even though I'm wearing the same clothes and carrying the same hairstyle (bald) I have since they met me. It's like that viagara commercial without the viagara, but with the same result!

Oh well. I just had to get that out of my system. Thanks for being patient with me.

This is the last discussion regarding my surgery and associated personal topics. You may wish to move on if you're not interested in this at all. Any future discussions about my private areas will be of a sexual nature intended to entertain. Thank you very much.

Bright and early this morning, Earl and I did the dubious task of removing my catheter. If you've been following along, you know that it's been in me since Friday, March 11 as I recovered from surgery. The sensation of the catheter being pulled out was rather disconcerting and created a bit of burning. But it was done faster than you could think about it. I think we pulled out around 10 or so inches of tubing.

Having depended (no pun intended) on the catheter for the week and a half, there was concern that I would have trouble controlling my bladder for a little while, so I took the morning off from work to make sure everything is working correctly. Since I didn't sleep much last night, I took a little nap and was able to sleep naturally on my stomach for the first time and I slept better than I have in a long while. I had pleasant dreams. I feel well rested.

After awaking from my nap, I found that I had to go the bathroom. I was relieved (again, no pun intended) to find that there was no blood or urinary leakage while I was napping so everything appeared to be working well. I went to the bathroom, aimed and then fired, and was about thrown back on my ass.

You must understand that for the past 30 years or so, it's taken me 60 to 90 seconds at a time to try to empty my bladder. While I didn't 'dribble', I wasn't really about to put out any fires either. It hurt me to urinate 95% of the time. I would go to the bathroom every hour or so (except in the overnight). And I never completely emptied my bladder.

What I just experienced I've never experienced before in my life. No pain. No waiting around for things to happen. No wondering if everything was going to work. It just worked like it was suppose to. And I have a gut feeling that it's going to stay that way.

I truly feel like a new man.

Today we started the project of building what I call my "creativity suite", which is a recording studio. The Mac Mini arrived in the mail yesterday (one week early, I may add) and today we picked up a monitor (Apple 20-inch cinema display) and the Harman Kardon sound sticks. This set up is sweet! I'm using it right now to type this blog entry just to put the Mac Mini through it's paces. I think it might be a touch faster than my PowerBook G4, I guess only time will tell. If you're thinking about buying a new computer, I HIGHLY recommend the Mac Mini, but opt for the extra $75 to get 512MB RAM instead of the standard 256MB. I find it amazing that my desktop computer is small than my desk telephone yet packs all this punch. Let's see how it does when I start pumping music into GarageBand2!

Last night I got to experience the rush of my creative side as emcee for the Miss Mohawk Valley beauty pageant Scholarship Program. Even though my friend Laurie wanted me to stick right to the script, I had to horse around a little bit and do some ad-libbing. When I announced the winners at the end of the show, I did it with an American Idol flair. "Five beautiful, intelligent young ladies are on this stage. One of them is Miss Mohawk Valley 2005. The results, after the break." (rimshot). The audience giggled. It was exhilerating to be up on the stage in front of an audience. I should find a reason to do that more often. I don't want to overdo it though, because then it'll lose its charm.

And I managed to do all this fun with my catheter still in place. The big moment comes tomorrow morning when I can pull it out and we can all breathe a sigh of relief.

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I've decided to stop being anti-social and now vow to have my AOL Instant Messenger/iChatAV on whenever I'm on the computer. Please feel free to chat with me, you can use either AOL or iChatAV and my screen name is macwarriorny-at-mac.com, replacing the "-at-" with "@". I look forward to chatting with you!

Last Saturday morning, while I was recovering from my surgery, I was parked in front of television seeing what modern entertainment had to offer. Disappointed with the current offering in cartoons and such, I drifted to TV Land and a rerun of the 2004 TV Land Awards. These are awards given out to entertainers of classic television shows, in the tradition of the award shows of yesterday, at a lovely dinner-theatre type setting with numerous categories such as "Nosiest Neighbor" and "Superist Superhero".

The winner of the "Superise Superhero" was Lynda Carter as Wonder Woman, beating out Lou Ferrigno and Bill Bixby as the Incredible Hulk and Deidre Hall and Judy Strangis as ElectraWoman and DynaGirl.

Lynda was present at the awards ceremony and accepted the award with an unmatched amount of grace and dignity, much like they way she portrayed Wonder Woman back in the late 1970s. After her acceptance speech, an announcer boomed onto the set declaring that someone had illegally parked their invisible jet and it was to be towed.

On cue, Lynda dashed back stage and did her infamous twirl, complete with exploding ball of light and the proper musical cue, and there was Wonder Woman, played by someone else that looked a little bit like Shannen Doherty. (Lynda mentions on the latest DVD set that she has only taken her WW outfit out twice since the series ended, and both times were for 'show and tell' at school for her two kids.)

I was absolutely giddy, for several reasons. First of all, they used the correct music and effects for the transformation to Wonder Woman. That was way cool. But I also noticed that no one, and I mean NO ONE, can do the twirl like Lynda Carter does. I've seen Sarah Michelle Gellar do it on the MTV awards. I've seen Lynda's stunt double do it on the WW TV series numerous times. I've seen my sister do it, I've seen drag queens do it and I've seen lots of gay men do it and none of them can twirl like Lynda does. I can't even do the WW twirl right and believe me, I've tried to spin into Wonder Boy on several occasions throughout my life, the latest being my 'Survivor 5' audition tape.

I've always wanted to be a superhero, saving the world, making all wrongs right, in my satin tights no less. The closest I've come is that International Male workout outfit I bought back in 1990 that still haunts me in the basement to this day. Maybe if I added the exploding ball of light and the sound effects and then twirled really hard, it would finally happen.

Now to come up with a groovy theme song.

As the week progresses, I must say that my recovery is going well. Things itch where I can't scratch them and I'm accepting that as an undeniable indicator of the healing process. Monday is just around the corner (when I can take out this catheter once and for all), even though it feels like it's taking forever to get here. I'm not using my pain medicine during the day and it's all quite bearable so I guess I'm doing o.k.

One thing that this surgery has given me the opportunity to do is to see what actually comes out of me. Having been instructed to drink a LOT of water this week, I've been drinking about double my normal consumption of water, I'm guessing about 2 gallons or so a day. That doesn't include the iced tea that I have with lunch or supper or the juice I have in the morning. I used to also have a Diet Pepsi for my afternoon treat.

Notice I just said "used to".

I've dinked (no pun intended) with the idea of giving up soda for the past couple of years but have always given in and started back up again. When I started having the difficulties, I read online that soda consumption can aggrevate the your bladder and associated plumbing. I began to look for a correlation and sure enough, when I drank soda, it made it even harder for me to urinate (which wasn't an easy task to begin with). Then I read my friend Kook's experience with drinking soda and the ulcers it gave him. So I cut way back to one 20 oz bottle a day and pretty much whatever was available to me on the weekend. I shudder to think that when I was doing the night shift on the radio, I was drinking at least a two-liter bottle of Pepsi (or sometimes even Jolt!) during my four hour air shift! I was so jacked up I think I licked the ceiling a couple of times.

Anyways, I've noticed that my urine is much darker and a little thicker after drinking the diet soda I've been having in the afternoon. It's only for about an hour or so, then it goes back to the pale yellow, almost clear stuff that I've been seeing otherwise. It's kind of neat being able to see what's what, because usually everything mixes in the toilet and you get an odd shade of green (when mixed with the blue treated water) or some other derivative of the rainbow. Except magenta or violet. Magenta or violet in the toilet would make me nervous.

So today I am going without my little caffeine boost to see if the pattern continues. If it does, then I have to figure out what else in my diet is affecting things. But I have my money on the soda.

Just say no!

As I mentioned near the beginning of the year, I've been faithfully following along with the latest incarnation of American Idol. I thought the initial auditions were a little outrageous. I haven't really cared for the semi-finals, as I did not agree with the new voting process where you vote off a guy or girl specifically to make the Top 12 evenly balanced. I didn't see the point.

Especially since I find the talent to be a little bit lacking this year.

Now, I have been trained in various aspects of music. And I know that there's a ton of technology out there that can make a relatively good singer a superstar. But to me, this use of technology is cheating. To make it big, you can't be a good singer, you can't be a great singer, you have to be an incredible singer. You have to blow the socks off your audience, even without accompaniment, even without a microphone and even without a computer boost. Granted, it may not sound as polished. It may not sound as smooth, but the notes should be on and the feeling should be there.

You have to have talent to be a true superstar.

There are many true superstars in the music industry. Unfortunately, there's also a bunch of computer generated imposters littering the landscape. I think there's only a couple of contestants on American Idol this season that can become true superstars: Anwar and Nadia. I'm hoping they'll make the final two. I hope America gets it right. Let's sit back and watch the show. Even if we have to cover our ears sometimes.

I am writing this blog entry from office. Yes, I'm back in the race, sloshing around my cubicle. I feel somewhat like I work for the OSI, keeping my bionics discreet and hiding my secret from the likes of mortal men and women. Musn't let my tubing show for they'll expect me to move in slow motion making ch ch ch ch ch sounds.

I'm making it through the day and it feels good. Please cue "I Made It Through The Rain" by Barry Manilow.

I spoke with the doctor today and explained the situation to him. I don't have a follow up appointment, but rather, will be taking the catheter out myself this coming Monday. We don't want too much irritation in that area but we do want everything to heal up pretty well. So here we are.

Not only do I feel like a million bucks, I feel like Six Million Bucks.

Again, this blog entry is a frank discussion of a somewhat adult topic. If you or anyone in your traveling party feels uncomfortable or unwilling to proceed, please let the flight attendant know and they will kindly reseat you in a tamer blog entry. Thank you.

I've often commented about how time is flying by. The world is moving at a near hypersonic pace and I am desperately trying to slow down and savor what's around me.

Time has now come to a grinding halt. When you have a tube sticking out the end of your penis for 2 1/2 weeks, the days, hours, hell, even the minutes tend to stretch out to infinity. And it's only day four.

I am doing better this morning than I was yesterday at this time. I am definitely healing, but I'm feeling like all the healing done during the day is getting undone at night when I try to sleep and end up having erotic dreams. It hurts like hell and doesn't allow me the luxury of completing the dream or getting back to sleep. I have a call in the doctor's office to see if this is normal or if it should be a concern, I'm awaiting their return call.

I have been parallel parked on the couch since Friday afternoon, save for getting up for a few meals, taking a shower on Saturday and going to the bathroom to empty my bag of fun. My Mom stopped by for a visit yesterday, and she was a most welcomed site. She added another stuffed animal to my collection and brought some delicious cookie-cake type things that are just delightful!

Earl has been working hard playing health care attendant. And we've been watching television. Lots of television. And even more television. Last night we watched the movie "Big Fish" (excellent movie, by the way). Yesterday I watched "Airport 1975" with Charleton Heston and Karen Black. I have a bunch of disaster movies geared up for TiVo. This morning I couldn't sleep so I watched a documentary on how they build the great Ice Hotel in Iceland.

Slowly but surely, however, I am losing my mind. I'm just bored. I want to go to work as I'm scheduled to go to work tomorrow but I'm nervous about the blood that I'm still seeing. I really don't know how I'm going to work all rigged up like this. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get to it. I'll just await the doctor's return call for now.

It's my third day of recovery from my surgery. I feel like I was whipped in and out of the hospital so fast on Friday that I include it in the number of recovery days. I wish I could say that I feel great and everything is coming along wonderfully, but I don't really feel that way. I am slowly losing my mind.

For the faint of heart, you may wish to skip the rest of this entry and wait until my next witty dialog before reading my blog again. What follows is a frank discussion of a personal topic. You've been warned.

I don't think my urologist took into account that I am a horny little bastard. I'm not experiencing any pain from the surgery. My urine is clear, as it should be. It's been eight hours since my last pain pill (which usually last four to six) and I feel like I could go a couple of hours before taking one again. But I do have one remaining problem. I can't sleep. When I sleep, I dream and when I dream, I get erections, and having an erection with a catheter has got to be one of the most painful experiences I can imagine. So I'm dogged tired and when my mind tries to give me sweet dreams I feel like I'm being tortured.

While I was in the recovery room, the doctor met with Earl to discuss post-op stuff. Knowing Earl like I do, he was very thorough and asked many questions. One of the questions he asked was about erections. The doctor said that my body would sense that something is different down there and when I started to feel pain, the erection process would come to a halt and I wouldn't have difficulty with that. Problem is, I've always felt pain down there. Peeing or otherwise, I've always felt a little pain and its never slowed me down. So much for that theory.

I don't know if it's suppose to be like this or not. Everything feels fine down there, except when I'm trying to sleep. I don't know how in the world I am suppose to keep this catheter in me for two more weeks, I'll pass out from exhaustion long before that.

I'm going to call the doctor tomorrow and see if there's another course of action that I can take. It probably won't do any good, but maybe it'll make me feel less miserable.

Inspired by my friend Thom's blog, I took a listen to "Reelin' In The Years" by Steely Dan on iTunes. His current blog entry talks about The iPod Playlist Book. I'll have to get a copy.

Anyways, I never knew the name of that song and I never knew the lyrics. I just sort of hummed along to the track whenever it was on. I love that song, but I never knew the title. I feel like I've been let in on a little secret or something.

A similar thing happened to me about 10 years ago, when I thought "I'm not talking about movin' in..." in "I'd Really Love To See You Tonight" was "I'm not talking about the linen..."

I wish I could blame that misheard lyrics on drugs, but I just started my pain medication today.

I am typing this blog entry from the comfort of the couch in our great room. Earl has been playing nurse all day, tending to my needs. I think I'm a little loopy from the pain medication I'm on, so if I'm incoherent, I apologize.

My surgery went well. I had not one, not two, but three blockages in my urethra so the procedure was a little more involved than they initially planned. But as the doctor told Earl afterwards, I'll be as good as new once everything heals. Since this was a little more involved, I am going to have the catheter for two weeks instead of just one as initially planned. I could be peeing right now as I type for all I know. I'm a little frustrated by the catheter, but I think I'm more frustrated that sex is off limits for a little longer than anticipated. I guess I'll have to stay away from the internet porn while I'm recovering.

I have to admit that at first I was nervous this morning, and after sharing my fears with Earl, I got past it and thought of the whole experience as a field trip. I decided to remember everything and everyone and to document what I felt as the anesthesia did its thing and such.

The people that helped me out today were named (in order of appearance), Joanne, Maureen, Ruth, a couple of OR specialists that didn't tell me their name and Nina. Everyone, and I mean every single person I worked with today, was extremely kind and made me feel at ease throughout the ordeal. Maureen even apologized for the pain from the IV, and Joanne told me to savor every drop of water that I got with my pre-surgery pills, as that's all I was getting for a while. (I had told her I was dead thirsty, having to fast all night last night.)

I'm somewhat shocked that I had a very, very vivid dream during the anesthesia. It began with a visit to Walt Disney World (the OR nurse had told me to think about my last vacation as I was going under) and then for some strange reason, Earl and I were holding hands and sort of floating up Route 11 near Potsdam, N.Y. I don't know why my brain, or my soul, or the universe, or whomever, decided that I needed to see Potsdam of all places, especially at this time of year, but I felt very at ease and very happy. It was probably the drugs, but I like to think that I had some spirit guides or something along with my on the journey, as my maternal grandmother and my paternal grandfather's side of the family are both from that neck of the woods.

The actual surgery took just under an hour, I was out of the recovery room by 10:00 a.m. and Earl was driving me home shortly after noon. I initially had planned on going to work on Monday, but the doctor thought that perhaps I should sit Monday out, and possibly Tuesday depending how I'm feeling. I'm a little anxious about having the catheter in me for two weeks, as I'm suppose to emcee Miss Mohawk Valley next weekend, and as I mentioned before, it's a little hard to mobilize, let alone make love with this thing going on. But I guess it's all for the better.

So I guess I'm going to embark on building a new empire on SimCity, watch a lot of television, take naps and maybe do some work on the website for the next couple of days before I feel well enough to get back to work. I'm also going to lie still and just listen to the sounds of our beautiful home.

Earl has been wonderful. He bought me a new stuffed animal, a little cat with stripes. His name is Mussy. I know, I'm a big kid at heart. I've been an emotional mess this afternoon, mostly because of the pain medication (I got emotional when Blanche was arguing with 'Big Daddy' on the Golden Girls for crying out loud), but despite my little procedure today, I feel like a million bucks right now.

If I had one wish and only one wish, I would wish that everyone in the world gets to experience the love that I enjoy.

There I go getting all emotional again.

I have a habit of comparing things. "How were Ames and Hills different? How were they similar?" "What moment in my life is similar to the moment I'm experiencing right now?" I don't know why I do these things, but I do.

With my surgery all confirmed for tomorrow (bright and early, I may add), I am reminded of the last time I had the surgery. It was my senior year of high school; I believe in March 1986. With my memory not being as perfect as it used to be, I can't remember the exact details, but I think I'm pretty close. Naturally, I'm comparing the two scenarios.

Then: I was infatuated with the pop music world. I had to get the latest copy of Billboard every week. I spent money on 12-inch singles, including Animotion's "Obsession" and Shannon's "Let The Music Play."
Now: I'm infatuated with all kinds of music. I check out the music charts and keep tabs on American Idol. I spend lots of money downloading music on iTunes.

Then: Lots of hair on my head, styled damn near close to a mullet, with two hairs and a lot of blond fluff passing as a "mustache".
Now: No hair on my head, a goatee and the start of another beard.

Then: I was just winding down a "relationship" with my high school girlfriend. I knew what I wanted, I knew who I was, I had only shared it with one person and she wasn't it, in many respects. Being geeky and gangly, I lacked self confidence.
Now: I have found the love of my life. When I said "I do", I did forever. I know who I am, I know what I want, and I am damn proud of it. I have a good dose of self confidence. I like to think I turn heads.

Then: I was chatting and sending e-mail on my first computer, a Commodore VIC-20, at 300 baud using a service called GEnie.
Now: I'm chatting and sending e-mail plus a million other things, on my umpteenth computer, an Apple PowerBook G4. "Baud" no longer applies on my Adelphia Broadband cable connection.

Then: I was driving a 1976 Pontiac Astre and within a year would inherent a 1978 Chevy Impala.
Now: I drive a 2001 Chevy Impala!

Then: I had never done recreational drugs nor drank.
Now: I've never done recreational drugs (though I have told certain people that I did in a worthless effort to "fit in" in the past) and I rarely drink.

One of the things that I'm thankful for is that medical technology has progressed in leaps and bounds since my last surgery, and this time will hopefully finally fix the little problem that I've been living with since that last surgery in 1986.

I'll let you know how the bionics upgrade went tomorrow night.

As I've gone on about since, well, since I've had this blog, I'm constantly trying to lose weight in an effort to be a healtier, leaner, muscular stud muffin. While I have made some good strides in this effort, I still feel I have a ways to go. But if you think about it, who is ever really happy with their body?

I know that exercise is the key, but I just can not get myself motivated to stare at cement block walls and ride a bike to nowhere. I don't know if it's because I've had some great long distance cycling accomplishments in the past or whether I just don't like the way I sit on my exercise bike, but I just can not get up the motivation to jump up on there and pedal, pedal, pedal and pedal away the pounds. I find the exercise tedious and monotonous. So I'm thinking of getting back into my yoga practice.

I took a yoga class at Utica College back in the summer of 1998 and it was wonderful. I was the only guy in the class and found that I enjoyed it very much, despite the lack of eye candy. There were some startling aspects, like watching the older women trying to put their nose to the back of their thighs, but for the most part it was a great experience and helped me feel more in touch with my body (nose to the back of the thigh notwithstanding). I didn't even mind getting showered with sweat from the big Italian woman the was on the mat next to me. It helped me feel butch.

Unfortunately, I think I've forgotten most of the poses. One of the important things to remember about yoga, so said the instructor, was that you need to do the poses correctly or you could at the very least negate any exercise type benefit from the practice and at the most really hurt yourself, like relocating your shoulder to your buttocks permanently or something. I do remember a pose called "The Cat" which resembled a cat licking it's butt but I don't remember how to get there. Perhaps I need to consult Tom the next time he goes through his routine.

I guess I'll buy a DVD and start up the practice again. If I get myself into the shape of a pretzel, I'll share a picture with you.

Mother Nature has given us one more blast of winter to remind us that it's not quite spring yet. Yesterday was just a teaser, with temperatures in the mid 50s and the sun shining down. Today it's 18 degrees and we're under a winter storm warning.

After yesterday's respite afternoon, I don't feel all down in the dumps about this weather. I find the public too amusing. People are bundling up like it's the 1st of January. Shoppers are grabbing the bread and milk at the grocery store and who cares if the cupboard is fully stocked! They can squeeze that one extra loaf of bread to take us through this calamity.

As usual, all rules of the road are null and void. Green lights mean "sissy", yellow lights mean "move it" and red lights mean "fsck you, I'm coming through." Parking lot lines that denote where you are to park have become invisible. Either that or they are dancing under the snow, rearranging the format of the parking lot at whim. Parking four deep is a wonderful strategy at the mall. Why we don't do it in nicer weather is beyond me.

I often complain about the hysteria that grips this area when it comes to a snow storm. You'd think after 15 years here I'd be over it, but I'm amazed at how much difference being 60 miles southeast of where I grew up can make. I mean, I don't remember this "sky is falling" attitude that seems to overtake here back when I was a kid. It's a few flakes of snow! Deal with it, people.

Like everyone, I'm ready for spring. And despite the temperatures and the wind and the snow and the slush and the hysteria, you can still feel spring in the air. It's a little colder than usual. The skies are gray instead of blue. But the wind carries the unmistakeable, indescribeable feeling of "spring". Let's just keep it together until it gets here.

Today I got to celebrate the end of my on-call week, so I took the afternoon off courtesy of a little bit of comp time. The Universe was smiling on me, as it was a mild, sunny day, with temperatures in the upper 50s. The rest of the week looks like it's going to be one more shake at winter, so it was good to get out and enjoy the fresh air.

It was wonderful to clean up the "to do" list; get the oil changed in the car, get fitted for a tux for an upcoming gig, get the banking done. I took advantage of the beautiful weather and took the Jeep out for a much needed stretch and ended up driving around for about an hour. No destination planned. No timetable to follow. It was the opportunity to get some cobwebs cleaned out of my head.

I often share somewhat personal thoughts and events on my blog, but sometimes I realize that what I share doesn't come close to the depth of what I'm really feeling. For example, I've complained about the current state of the radio industry (after being in it for quite a while). I wish I had made some different choices when presented with opportunities in the past. But if I had, then I would have missed out on what I've experienced since that choice was made, and I wouldn't have had those experiences. But on the other hand, I miss the creativity involved with putting together the sound of a radio station. It's a vicious circle, I suppose. But I must say that while I feel outdated for Top 40, I would kick some major ass with an all 80s or a retro-dance type station.

On the other hand, I really enjoy what I do at my current job. The telecommunications industry is challenging, yet a different type of opportunity and I'm honored to be part of it. So it's all good. I think the recording studio I'm building is going to address the need I have to be creative, whether it be remixing songs, making mix CDs, creating radio jingles, making my own album or recording commercials.

I mentioned that I have a gig coming up. I am going to be the emcee for a beauty pageant/scholarship program, "Miss Mohawk Valley", on March 19th. I'm a little bit nervous about the adventure, as I may still be recovering from my upcoming surgery. But as they say, the show must go on. I did the same gig last year and as I look back, I was too dependent on the script and way too wooden. I think I'll make like Ryan Seacrest this year.

Another thing I was thinking about today while driving about was the energy I waste disliking this area. Earl occasionally mentions that I tend to see the "gloom and doom" side of things once in a while and I admit that I do. So effective I'm not going to be all negative about this part of Upstate N.Y. (except when I pay the outrageous sales tax of 9.75%, allow me that luxury).

And lastly, I came to terms with the fact that the surgery I'm having on Friday is no big deal and that it's only going to be a week of inconvenience. And it's all for the better. I just want to get it over with, I guess.

So I did a little soul searching today while enjoying the sunshine. I feel better for it.

"Yesterday was wonderful, today was even better, tomorrow will soar."

Earl and I slowed our lives down enough to enjoy "Family Night" together tonight. Granted, there's only three of us in our little family here, Earl, our cat Tom and myself, but still it's fun to get together as a little family enjoy some popcorn and a movie together.

When I was a kid, up until I was 28 actually, we used to have "Family Day", where a good portion of my dad's side of the family would get together at Gram and Grampa's house, have donuts and coffee and shoot the breeze. I find it ironic that we did that, as everyone was together throughout the week at the family business, but nevertheless it was customary. We cousins would romp through the barns. I would try to organize parades with splendid pageantry and such. I was such a dork. We still share the tradition once in a great while.

Anyways, tonight for Family Night we watched "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" on DVD. I haven't seen "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" in the 25 past years or so, so this was a special treat. I had forgotten some of the songs and how beautiful Sally Ann Howes is. She is Truly Scrumptious (and for me to take notice is Truly Something!)! There was such a sense of class and style in Hollywood back in the day. My how times have changed. I think I'm suffering from a mild case of the Tobey Maguire/Pleasantville syndrome. Perhaps Earl and I need to see a good old classic Broadway musical at the local school or something.

Oh well, it's fun to live life with your head in the clouds once in a while.

Being on call this weekend I am pretty much tied to the house, or at least close proximity, in case of a telecommunications emergency. So while I should be cleaning the house and doing other mundane chores, I've been fooling around on iTunes and loading up my iPod. In fact, I'm listening to my iPod now, which is surprising since I usually need silence to type a coherent blog entry.

"Xanadu", Olivia Newton-John.

I got to thinking that if my iPod ever came up missing, whomever found it would think that I'm a complete whacko with my tastes in music. While I was searching around iTunes today, I nearly pouted because "(You're) Having My Baby" by Paul Anka and Odia Coates was nowhere to be found. When it the last time you heard that song? Not to fret, while it's not on iTunes I was able to download a decent MP3 of it and load it on my iPod anyway.

"(Keep Feeling) Fascination", Baxendale. (Found on a Human League tribute album).

Did you even know that there is a Human League tribute album? It's called "Reproductions" and came out a couple of years ago. I found many of the remakes startling, but I really like the treatment of the popular 'Fascination'. While I was goofing off today, I did take time to see what 12-inch singles I had left in my collection and I found the rare "Fascination!" album that came out in 1983. This was a filler EP between "Dare" (which contained "Don't You Want Me") and the follow up album "Hysteria", which contained "The Lebanon". I'm eager to get a turntable or two into my home studio setup I'm building so that I can do some club-type spinning again and get it down on CD. I think I might rework a version of Fascination for 2005. Back in '93 I re-edited a version of Boy Krazy's "That's What Love Can Do" that earned some airplay on the radio station I worked for AND the nationally syndicated Open House Party. That was cool. I wonder if I can duplicate that 'success'. It seems that it would be much easier today now that we have computers and such.

"Tragedy", Bee Gees.

Earl and I did get to Circuit City tonight on an important mission. The second season of "Wonder Woman" is out on DVD and of course I had to get our copy. Earlier this evening we had the opportunity to watch the full 90-minute second season opener, when Wonder Woman moved from the 40s to the 70s. When fx and SCI-FI used to show this episode they could successfully hack it down to a 60 minute version, so it was good to see the whole thing intact. We also picked up the first season of "Charmed", "Chitty Chitty Bang Bang" and "The Parent Trap" (the original version). Anyone see a Disney influence lingering there?

As I'm listening to "Tragedy" I'm thinking I can successfully mix the original with Steps version from 2000. Hmmm, interesting.

"Invisible", Clay Aiken.

To date, I've loaded a mere 180 songs on my iPod. Save for Paul Anka and Loveland's "Don't Make Me Wait", they've all been downloaded from the iTunes music store. That's either a serious chunk of change or a LOT of Diet Pepsi. I have to admit it's the former.

I still say the bridge in "Invisible" (the part that goes "Reach out..." for the musically challenged) is pure pop bliss. It has a wonderful key change, as well as Partridge Family type backing vocals. Absolutely pleasing to the ear. Clay Aiken can sing with the best of them, and according to media reports, might even out-diva our beloved Elton John.

If you see me on the street with the tell tale white ear buds in my ear, ask me for a listen. I'll gladly share and you never know what you might hear.

I've posted a bunch of our Disney photos. You can take a peek at our .Mac site.

How I love tax time. After foolishly allowing the federal government to hold onto my money by having too big of deductions all year, only to get a portion of it back in a check at this time of the year is somewhat satisfying. I can almost hear the sound of the direct deposit as we speak.

Goodness, I'm odd.

Earl announced to me that he considered my tax refund "play money" this year. So I've decided to start my little recording studio project I've been thinking about for the past couple of months. I just purchased my second piece of equipment.

Welcome to the fold, my little Mac Mini.

My little guy is on order from Apple and should be here within the next three weeks. I'm very excited as I will have a computer, that is very modestly priced I may add, dedicated to my Garage Band 2 projects. And more importantly, it's a Mac, not a thrown together PC.

iProud once again.

Right after vacation, I bought a USB driven MIDI keyboard which I've hooked up to my PowerBook and played around with a little bit. It's pretty cool being able to piece together these tracks so easily using Garage Band 2. When I was in the radio biz, we used Cool Edit Pro on Windows, which is o.k. but nowhere near as fun as the Mac stuff.

I've been feeling like I have all this creative energy stored up inside of me, just waiting to come out and be realized.

I think the dam is going to burst with a rousing remake of "Let Your Love Flow".

Stay tuned!

Today I had my pre-op testing for my surgery next week. The folks at Faxton-St. Lukes Hospital seem very nice, in that they explain everything, go step by step through their little checklist of what I need to know and put up with my interjections of humor. I don't know if the lab tech that took my blood appreciated being asked "why would anyone want to do this?" but hey, sometimes it takes a little patience with your patient. That's what I always say.

Of course I had to give them a urine sample. Everyone wants my pee. I think they're saving it up in a big vat or something. They told me not to eat or drink anything since last night, so I felt a little pressure when it came to giving them the big sample, but it all came out in the end. At least I didn't have to give them the other kind of sample from that area. Once was enough for that! And of course the very cute anestesiologist (I don't think I would win a spelling bee with that one!) was the one doctor I've met in the past two months that didn't want to check my prostate. I mean, why would he? But at least he could have offered.

One thing that did disturb me is that my blood pressure was high. I suspect my blood pressure has crept up in tandem with my weight. I don't know why, I've cut back on greasy foods to only three or four a day. I have been doing a really bad job of eating healthy. I'm hoping the impending nice weather will help further the cause in that department, so let's all keep our fingers crossed. I refuse to go on blood pressure medicine again, so I guess I'll just have to get my weight back down and my exercising going again. It's not like I've gained a ton of weight back, I've already lost everything I gained on vacation, but I'm still 10 pounds heavier than I was at this time last year. So I need to shed 15 pounds. I have a goal of April 30. Let's see if I can do it.

So a week from tomorrow is the big day for the surgery. It's a minor procedure that's only going to take 45 minutes or so. I'll be home in the afternoon. I'll probably be groggy as all get out, at least I'll have an excuse for being my goofy self.

I'm not looking forward to the surgery (who would?) but I am looking forward to getting it over with.

So yesterday my father left a message on our answering machine. He and his girlfriend are vacationing in California and are having a great trip and be sure to tape Leno Tuesday night.

Tape it? Tape it? I TiVo'd it thank you very much.

I just took a peek at the opening segment and there's my dad and Karen in the audience looking like their having the time of their lives! I'm jealous! When Earl and I were in The Rosie O'Donnell Show audience back in 1997, the only thing you could see was the top of my shaved head and Earl's arm. But there's my dad and his girlfriend on Leno, plain as day. Oh well.

And yes, I was very clever in getting us tickets to see Rosie O'Donnell back when she had her talk show. Working for a radio station at the time, what better way to get in the audience then to make a huge contest of it and give away tickets to the show, with the winners to be accompanied by station personnel. And of course the station personnel was Earl and me.

Rosie's people didn't want to talk to my people, but then I sent her people a fax that said if someone didn't call me, I would announce the said fax number on the air.

Imagine my surprise when the announcement came over the intercom: "J.P., Rosie O'Donnell's office is on line 4.", a mere ten minutes after sending the fax. So we got to see Rosie O'Donnell. The guests that day were Andy Dick, Steve Winwood and Farrah Fawcett. In fact, it was the same day that Farrah had the meltdown on Letterman. She was pretty spacey with Rosie too. We didn't get to meet Rosie or anything though, she was too busy. And a little cranky during commercial breaks, but we won't go there.

I can't wait to hear about my dad's brush with Hollywood!

Our cat Tom is full of purrs today. He is purring up a storm; much louder than any purring he's done in the past month or so. He seems to have recovered nicely from his recent visits to the vet and to his Gram's. How he hates riding in the car. Mom said that he seemed very happy while he was with her, at least until he saw Earl and I walk in, then he hid because it was time to go in the car again. But now its nothing but purr purr purr.

He seems to have forgotten the PowerBook rule though, because the screen had the tell tale signs of cat hair on it when I opened it up to write this blog entry. He gives me an innocent look.

I occasionally rave about the lunches that Earl makes for me. And today is no exception. Yesterday I mentioned that he would be out of town this week, but courtesy of the snowstorms here in the Northeast, his plans were thwarted and he got to spend last night and tonight at home.

So this morning he whipped up a nice lunch for me. Now to ordinary mortals, it would appear that I had a tuna salad sandwich on wheat for lunch today, with a few carrots on the side.

But if you've been following along over the years, you'll note that I am nowhere near ordinary.

Earl made for me tuna salad using his mother's recipe. God rest her soul, I have another reason that I wish that I could have met the woman. For not only have I been entertained over the years with stories about Earl's mom, and pictures as well, I have now also experienced Clare's tuna salad.

Pure genius.

Now I'm not knocking any other incarnations I've had of tuna salad, but today's version hit the spot completely; with a little bit of egg, celery, olives, onion and Hellmann's (because we're east of the Rockies, after all) accompanying the tuna fish for a cacophony of flavor.

Oh, there was a lot of love in there too.

Today marks a historical record of sorts for Oneida County, where we live. Our sales tax is now 9.75% on everything except uncooked foods and medical products. I believe it's the high sales tax rate in the United States. Yep, unlike most states in the union, this includes clothing and footwear, and necessities such as toilet paper and soap.

I often ask Earl why we live here. He replies its because its where his job is and to basically "toughen up cupcake." I guess I complain too much. But I don't feel that paying 9.75% in sales tax is fair to the citizens of Oneida County. Surrounding counties have a 7.25 or 8.25% sales tax. In the nationwide scheme of things, that's still very high. I remember paying 4% sales tax as recently as 1990. Pennsylavnia residents pay 6% sales tax.

I think what ticks me off the most is that county officials made no attempt to curb spending. They wouldn't consider cutting down staffing, lay offs or anything like that. They didn't give voters a choice. They just said it was either a higher sales tax or a higher property tax (48% increase!). This is all to cover the increasing cost of Medicaid.

Small wonder people are leaving this area in droves. It's too expensive to live here! And this sales tax increase hurts EVERYONE, no matter their financial standing. And we've just added another reason for new business to look Oneida County over and locate somewhere else.

New York State is a corrupt state and will continue to be. NYS spends tons of money on trivial, unnecessary things. Upstate residents continue to be caught up in one of the worst economies in the nation. I guess I'll have to "toughen up cupcake" and take my business outside of Oneida County until we find a better solution.

I was once "Empire State Proud". Sadly, that is no longer the case.