You know that movie plot...the adult son and his father go on an adventure and finally reconnect...and make up for all the lost time they spent hating each other...and then they scream at each other and the son is all, "I just wanted you to love me!"...and then they get in a dangerous situation...and then they work together and get to safety...and then the son says "I love you, dad!" and the dad says, "I love you too son!" You know that one?

Well next week, I get to go on such an adventure with my Dad. Omitting, of course, the screaming, just-wanted-you-to-love-me's, and (hopefully) dangerous situations.

I think I'm one of those fortunate few who got to grow up with my dad. And not just with my dad around, but with my dad being involved. I couldn't have asked for more attention. I've never felt overlooked, ignored, or less important than anything.

So, on monday, we leave for Alaska - to the land of the Pipeline, Supertramp, and Denali. Such a rich and wild place...and I get to share it with my dad.

PB

So...Lindsey called me out on my lack of blogging. If you're like me, you peruse your friends' blogs daily - not really expecting to find anything new - and you're pleasantly surprised when a new post is...posted. It's kinda like when I go to my parents house and open the fridge. I'm not really looking for anything to eat, and I'm not expecting to see something I really want to dive into...it's just what I do when I go over there.

We'll today, my friends, you happened upon a MilkyWay Midnight in the butter dish.

Here's my catch 22: I want to be a writer, but I don't have anything published. When you want to get published, they ask for samples of your published material. Anybody see a problem with that? Yeah, me too. Along the same lines, I'd love to write for my current employer in some capacity. On Friday, I'm meeting with the director of our employee newsletter. For those who know my employer, you can imagine it's not your standard copy-machine-published company newsletter. So it's a job worth aspiring to. When we set up the meeting, he said, "feel free to send me your writing samples." "Feeling free is not the problem, sir." I just don't have anything extremely impressive to give him. No huge credits or accolades in this baby portfolio. So today, I've given myself the task of compiling (and probably writing) a few niblets of my work that will waft eau de peaby in his general direction. Actually, I gave my self that task last night, but put it off till today. (Maybe that's why I'm not published?) I think I would be a good fit, but obviously it's not my call at this point in time.

So, I'm off to the races. I'll be here for a while. I'm afraid if I go home the couch will call my name instead of my muses.

PB