Six-and-Twenty: I'm the fire, I want rain

Amazingly, after being a bit of a chatterbox earlier this month, I went nine days without posting, and I could even have kept it going but a busy day sent Mel to bed early at 9:30 and put me here. Here, where I could do anything (quietly, within reason) and I do this.

It was a full week. I know it's my blog and I try not to let other people see it but I still write as though it will be seen (although if I really believed that I would still probably be more careful about what I say here, this has always been true) but to fully describe what Mel and I got up to for most of the week would be some TMI, as well as going through feelings about it (mostly positive.) Let's just say we proceeded as we were directed and hopefully everything works out.

I worked a little bit into my Summer Friday, but was able to make time to do a thorough clean of the kitchen in the afternoon, which I was proud of. Of course it has been messed up again in the course of making meals but it's still only a little bit away from being clean again. The key has been getting rid of some very longstanding items that were cluttering up and messing up the space. I do tend to let things rest in the sink for far too long, but the way we do our spare time not a lot is budgeted for cleaning the kitchen, or anything. I'm not, inherently, a clean person but I do clean, paradoxically.

Saturday, yesterday, we made some time to go see Mama and Papa H. Last weekend we had gone to Hibachi with them for Nonna's birthday, which was fun and different. This was more just us having lunch together and chilling to get out of the house. We caught up on a bunch of stuff -- what to watch, what the what with my job, housekeeping, cable providers, etc etc. They were looking after Laura and Ryan's dog Jake while they were up in Orillia doing a run.

After that we came home to have steak fajitas and watch the latest time-filling lurid reality show on the docket, Ex on the Beach. It's kind of old -- the fleeting fame of the reality "stars" it features was already waning when it aired and now it's been four years -- but it can be entertaining to watch absolute trash car wrecks.

Today we were planning to go to the beach. Mel was really looking forward to it. This after politely declining my suggestions that we get out of the house and "do stuff" on some previous weekends. This plan was nearly thwarted, however, when we looked at the weather forecast and saw that thunderstorms were due in the area for today into tomorrow. It was sad, and I noted we would decide what to do in the morning. 

Come morning, there was rain on the ground but the sky was blue. So, we decided, what the hey, and loaded up our stuff. We even dug out a koosh tennis set we like to bring to the beach with us, and some water shoes (or water socks? slippers?) we had bought years ago but Mel thought hers didn't fit right, only for Mel to decide that they were okay after all. We also brought books, in case it was too... busy, or too anything else.

After getting a little turned around, we got there to find that it was pretty chill. The weather seemed to have warded off most beachgoers and while it was not a blistering hot day like it has been, it was still July. We waded into the frigid waters and played our games, let ourselves be splashed, and then realized... in all the chaos of quickly deciding to go and bringing what we did... we forgot towels. I had even thought about that, but it fell out of my head. We did, however, have our beach blanket, so once we were ready to get out, we just laid there and hoped the sun would dry us off.

It more or less worked out, and it was a nice way to spend an hour or two, minus scarping the bottom of the car against a concrete parking divider on the way out. I'll snicker about those towels for years, but it really wasn't a big deal.

I was starving when we got home so I started on dinner -- which was nachos, as distinct from the fajitas of yesterday by dint of different meat (ground pork). It was easy enough to do, don't judge me.

Tomorrow morning our patio people come, and we'll be able to cross that off the list, one more piece of the "dream home" reno falling into place. I foresee one every year, with the next probably being the upstairs bath.

Work is work. Writing sometimes happens. I'm good. There have been mostly good days lately. As usual I'm struck by how fast time moves. We reflected on how we hadn't been to the beach since 2019's outing with Chrispy and Megan. Now we don't even really see either of them.

Now it is raining. Raining hard. Delicious. Hopefully it does not prevent the patio people from coming tomorrow morning. The sooner this gets done the better.

For lack of anything else to do, I went back and started reading posts from an odd point in my life, August of 2009. I was a lonely kid, in university, directionless, unemployed, having just put on Half-Past (one of my biggest triumph, and definitely a success to which scale I have yet to reach again) and had just got on Twitter, which, along with Tumblr a year later, basically killed this blog for a long time. It's a blurry time, I was unmoored.

This one is done. Not my finest hour. I hope someday that I can share more with you but I am comforted by the fact that 40-year-old future Scotto will have this post to look back at, and not a blank. Not silence.

Keep on rockin

35-year-old present Scotto of 2022

Addendum: I am now reading some posts from 2019, early in the year. I am seeing now that today, I live a very blessed life, and shame on me for those times I don't appreciate it or wish it were different. I mean, I know where those feelings come from, but I've come so far in three years, I have so much more now than I even did then. The relationship I'm describing there doesn't even sound like the one I have now, and thanks to things like WFH, the house, and my pursuit of personal projects (instead of merely grousing about how I wish I had time for those projects) has improved my already-good life greatly. I'm happy. Things are not perfect and hearts will wander from time to time but I am so happy.

KOR-SAW

Five-and-Twenty: Summer Replacement

Why has this week felt so impossibly l o o o o o o ong? In this day and age when days pass like minutes and everything seems to blend together, this week has felt like it contains a month. Which is kind of cool in a way, to have time slowed back down like this, and agonizing in others.

The last time I remember feeling this way was during the early part of the pandemic, when the last two weeks of March 2022 passed at a crawl. But this one has been more due to events in my personal world than the world at large.

I've detailed some or most of what was going on at the beginning of the week. The minutes leading up to my appointment on Tuesday morning were already dragging. My head and heart were heavy with thoughts of work. Tuesday night Mel and I actually got into a bit of a fight because she asked me a personal question to which she didn't like the answer, although to be fair I didn't give her the whole story. Once I did, things were cleared up and we made up, having wasted the better part of an evening being mad at each other. (I always get mad at her when she's mad at me because what gives her the right, you know? But once she explained her position better I understood her hurt and was able to clear it up. Decent husbanding.)

Yesterday, Mel was in the city again, again for work but only in the morning and after that was her work BBQ on the island. She asked whether I could come to the city (even though I was not invited to the 'Q) and I declined, citing that I had already said I would be available for our usual Wednesday 5:30 workout (which ended up being 5:00) and we miss so many of those lately that I would hate to willingly miss another. Look at me, actively enjoying exercise. What is this guy.

Mel's train was late getting home after being stopped -- well, it had been a few weeks since that happened -- and when she got home we were both pretty beat so we ordered sushi. Which is good, but you know, it's an expensive habit. (It used to be a weekly occurrence but we've tapered it off lately, and now it's just something we do when we don't know what else to do... which admittedly, is nearly every week.) She was so drained that she called it a night at 8:30. I stayed up and wrote about the X-Men. In the morning I accompanied her to another appointment before work, then spent the day fretting, as I had been since the day before, about the lack of stock availability for the Kobo. At the end of the day I was able to sit down and get the ball rolling on working it out, which I guess is the kind of certainty and drive they want to see. After Mel was done we went to my mom's for dinner.

Today was more of a normal day, even a half-day because of summer hours thankfully. That said, the afternoon tends to evaporate when you work a little later than noon and then spend your "free time" running errands. Oh well, it is what it is and we've got the weekend (Saturday's got some things going on, Sunday might be relaxing.)

Other than that, you know, I'm just trying to figure some things out, to write and scheme and line up what comes next. I'm trying to take a break from forcing myself to write until I have an idea I think is really good, but you know how these things tend to hit, and I've already had a few that intrigue me.

I also have an ambition to get really far ahead on the X-Men blog so that I can cover a massive crossover (the 9-part X-Tinction Agenda) all within the month of September -- hugely ambitious, but if I can settle for a a few double-post weeks I would be happy. I mean, I'm not trying to race to the end of the Claremont Run -- I should want to savor it -- but what remains is a bit harried and not exactly what I was always most excited about doing, so... why not go for broke?

This is fun, I like this. Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

Four-and-Twenty: The Comeback Trial (sp)

Look how many posts so far this month. Who am I?

I don't know the answer to that for sure but I do know where I am... in the Starbucks at the Burlington Mall Indigo, writing this on my phone. Man, remember when I would go everywhere with my tablet for just such occasion? Although to be fair I am only not using it anymore because it stopped working. Still, there's something delightfully inconspicuous about keeping your head down on your phone. I could be doing anything. I could be tweeting.

A really long thread.

So, if yesterday wasn't already such a debacle to start with, partway through I got a meeting put in my calendar called "Touch base" with the directors with whom I had interviewed a few weeks ago for the buyer job. If you go reread the relevant post you'll see that I felt good about it, but uncertain about whether it was a match -- whether I wanted the job and whetger the job wanted me. Still, I said that knowing I did my best I would be able to accept the result no matter what, and that was my thinking going into the call, even as my breath shook with uncertainty.

They were extremely complimentary to my interview, enjoying my thoughts and clarity of communication, and really quige effusively noting how many of my points had resonated. Alas, my reputation for being a quiet sort worked against me since it had them wondering "Where did that come from?" I offered my thoughts on how hard it is to break out of one's box (even if such things are nominally encouraged, it hasn't taken for me.) Whether that was the, or a, reason why I was not put forward, I can't say exactly, but it did take up the majority of the conversation, along with those usual earnest offers to help me keep developing. Category Managers, after all, are managers. Gotta be bold, gotta be bad, gotta be wiser.

It's nice to be thought of, and I truly believe they mean it when they say they want to get me there, but I don't know if I can initiate a massive seachange in my entire personality at 35 just to chase some possibly nonexistent job, without the massive catalyst of actually getting said job. I really do appreciate their support but after processing, it's got me wondering what's next, because this feels like as far as I can go in the corporate world and some days I'm ready to throw in the towel on the whole thing. The carrot on the stick, the promise that if you treat your current job like an interview for your next one, maybe you'll luck out.

Maybe I sound overly bitter, and maybe that's not totally fair, but these thoughts come and go. Eyes open -- which I had when I made my earlier statement -- I do not think they really want a zen buddhist anticapitalist in this role, no matter how capable he is at seeming to be The Guy. They want the money shark, the innovation-chaser, the shoot first, ask questions later person. Maybe. Or something in the middle. The fact that I got as close as I did is remarkable, but I can see I'm not The Guy. I get it. And I agree. It would be something to do, but not what I want to do.

Now I just need to, you know, do what I want to do. And my resolve to do that is increasing, but I still worry that it tops out just below the minimum amount necessary to get It done.

There's also, and let's not downplay this, someone they said who was ready to come in and do the job Day One. (Fun, that was the same reason they didn't initially hire me to be an IA.) It kind of puts the lie to the idea that the company supports growth but I suppose they can at least say they tried (and I get it, I'm not the ideal test scenario for that.)

If my words on it are a little acerbic, I want to reiterate they were more than fair with me. I think deep down I don't push myself because I don't Want It the way you're supposed to. I'm not lazy (that much) I wrote a 25,000 word novella in 3 weeks because I was driven to do that. I just need proper inspiration to access my drive. And work, such as it exists, is not that.

So, I exist.

I thanked them for their consideration and said they'd hear more from me, although I really don't know that that's true. I'm still me, and my body is a cage, and if we're being perfectly honest that cage contains a smaller cage of my mind, and whatever can be said to be Me in inside of that.

After work, Mel and I grabbed dinner at Boston Pizza and I processed it a bit with her. We were both dead tired from work and slogged home on a hot traon next to some rowdy (but relatively innocent) teens.

Today was a big day. After seeing Mel off and working for a bit, I was finally able to end my vow of chastity. I have to say I felt I had gotten over a hump with it, but it was still a restless night and I'm glad to be done. It was an interesting experience, they have a little dedicated room with a comfy chair covered in butcher paper, and a little plastic card with the wifi password on it. I perused some of my favourite sources of inspiration but when it comes down to it, my favourite source is my own imagination. I had cannily brought my little sketchbook and a pencil and eraser to do some doodles that expressed, to me, the kinds of narrative I like, and then it was just a matter of aiming.

After that, I hadn't realized I was supposed to give a blood and urine sample. Blood, I had brought plenty of, but I had deliberately emptied my bladder earlier (due to competing mandates.) I went home, pounded another coffee, and raced back in time to drop the cup off before the 12:00ish deadline. Phew.

Busy morning, and that along with my complex Feelings led me to forgive myself for dogging it a bit at work (as opposed to the usual, which is usually just a matter of shrugging it off -- man, their decision looks better and better, or else I just live down to my station.)

I took it easy in the afternoon, and now am here, waiting to go pick Mel up from the train, whenever she gets in.

From what I can tell she has not yet boarded a train as of 5:44. As it ever was.

So yeah, that's all that and I have serious cause to contemplate my next moves. I hope I haven't seemed too bitter. Bitterness just happens to be one flavour I am feeling right now. I'm letting it out as a matter of being pragmatic about the situation. Feel my feelings. I have lots to buoy me these days.

In the meantime I will do what I can do be happy. That means another frapp, even though I'm dropping way way way too much on them. It's summer!

Keep on rockin'

Scotto

Three-and-Twenty: Gimmie

So, okay. There's not necessarily a reason for me to be posting right now, but to be fair there's usually notva reason for me to post. I happen to be at the office today, having escorted Mel in (this is her safety behaviour but it beats me dropping her off and waiting for her to get home for dinner.) And likeva dumdum I have locked myself out of my computer due to getting the password wrong too many times. This seemingly has nothing to do with being in the office, of course... it's the same damn password I input every day of my life. IT said they could get to me at 10:15 so I'm just twiddling my thumbs exhausting every source of distraction I have. (Rudely, Blake has not yet posted his daily meme dump.)

There is one thing going on which is making me antsy all around. Being that Mel and I are doing fertility testing, I have been abstaining since Thursday. They said to do so for 3-5 days. My test is on Tuesday and I wasn't really feeling it on Thurs or Fri so I backed myself into going the full five. If I'm being candid -- and hey, this is my blog so you can skip all this if it is too gross --

-- I mean it skip it now --

Really

Okay, so reflecting on it, I'm not sure when I've ever gone 5 whole days of total abstinence. I mean, I had the same problem of self-control from 13-18 every guy does, at which point I basically just admitted it was part of life, made me feel good, had no negative consequences* and was going to come out whether I did it or not, so why not go for the controlled environment?

* I talked to someone, not a doctor, back in my teen years who tried to pin back problems I was having on excessive onanism (great word) but I think it was just a bad mattress.

Anyway. I went on a few school trips during which I didn't do it out of a mix of exhaustion, self-consciousness and possibly consideration for my hotel roommates. So I reckon my personal best is probably about 4 days. Of course I didn't self-stimulate much during the early years of my and Mel's relationship but as time went on old jabits returned. Today I'm feeling antsy and uncomfortable, which leads me back to thinking how not-wrong it is to keep it as part of my lifestyle. Mel actually seemed dismayed when I revealed how unusual this is. I hope she recognizes that there is a functional difference between masturbation and sex and when I do one, it isn't necessarily supplanting the other. (I mean, it's definitely an either/or thing but... well, it's complicated.) I should probably try to do it less as we take this journey but I'll consult experts on that.

Anyway, I have to believe that this is affecting my mental state and causing me to lose focus. I barely sleot last night, and tge night before I had a somewhatvsteamy dream. I also walked off with the bag containing her shoes when we parted, doubling back and meeting her on her office's lobby. Luckily this all ends tomorrow. The other negative effectvis that this limits what I can do recreationally. Can't risk temptation by going to certain art sites or blogs or even do my own writing! And here I am in the city during the summer heat where at any moment I might run into some beautiful person in a skin-baring outfit. Uncool.

Okay, the gross TMI stuff is done.

You can stop scrolling

Lol as if anyone besides future-me is reading this.

Well, my time has come. There could be more to say. I went viral with a shockingly well-liked tweet on my X-Men account. 3800 likes, nearly 500 RTs and QTs, and counting. Of course, this does not necessarily convert to more hits, but weirdly I got a huge, seemingly natural wave of people checking out the archive. And there was some conversion, but it was less hits than the previous few days.

Now if only it made me money.

Keep on rockin'

Scotto

Two-and-Twenty: Conspicuous

The original title for this post was to be "I feel falling," and it would have been the rare entry whose title accurately describes its content, but instead, this.

It's been a weird afternoon of a weird day in a weird week of this weird life. I'm a little "off" because things are so quiet in my work-world because I pretty much don't have a Category Manager to direct my energy, so I'm just kind of free-floating (I have yet to hear back about a second interview, but I know this week they were interviewing external candidates.) I did some regular quotidian tasks and my weekly report running flow through info (to crickets, I assume). I didn't really work in the morning because I went with Mel to an appointment she was very anxious about. In the end it turned out fine but some of this stuff really affects her state. She had the whole day off, bless, and knitted a while after we got back. Then we had burritos, and as I went back to work she put on the teen body-swapping comedy It's A Boy-Girl Thing.

After that she found the 2000's Freddie Prinze-Claire Forlani romcom Boys and Girls, which I always found a little dry for the era but has a very unusual structure in what was a relatively formulaic genre/time. It was a college movie that was an offshoot of the teen comedy boom of the late-90s/early-2000s, which was in itself somewhat of a tricky proposition since the college movies tended not to play as well as the high school ones. I'm thinking also of the Jason Biggs vehicle Loser, but then again American Pie 2 was a success and the gang were all in college for that one, and Road Trip. But hey, in the end, maybe it's just that some are better than others.

Anyway, it charts Prinze Jr. and Forlani as two people whose lives are strangely intertwined as they keep bumping into each other, until they realize, yadda yadda, they're meant for each other or whatever. I'm not sure, we didn't watch the whole thing (yet.) I do remember the big soapy dance scene. Anyway, this arc passes for non-formulaic in this context, but it's also a little dry, like most Prinze Jr. vehicles.

Well anyway. The motif of running into someone intermittently over years got me thinking about someone from my past, this girl Leanne (not that one, the other one) who I met through Reach. She went to a school in Burlington and we'd always chat up whenever we ran into each other but I was always too afraid to ask for her MSN or anything that might put me in regular contact. I was a total anxiety case back then and I really had a way of idealizing women that was not productive (I wrote a play about it!)

Anyway, it was not meant to be, but I did run into her randomly one day after high school was over. I was going to the comic store and she was driving by and offered me a lift. I had her drop me off at the Pizza Pizza around the corner, which was my other destination, because I didn't want her to know I was going to the comic store (this was not a bad instinct -- I once went to a comic store while on a date years later, and there was no second date.) After profusely insisting she was not any kind of stalker (too bad) she mentioned she still hung out with her Reach peeps and even remembered me as the person who got a certain question right (I had a rep.) This was all written up at the time here on SWP, search keyword "Colloquialism." At that time she implied that there may have been been at least one girl on her team who was crushing on yours truly, (when I was in my element, as I was during trivia contests, I could be very charming and sexy.) but not only do I not remember any other girls from her team, I very much had eyes for her.

I never found her again and never even knew how to find her on social media.

All of this is not overly healthy considering our last interaction was some 15 years ago and I am now 35 and married, but we all have these loose ends that our mind likes to toy with. I have a few myself, although they are really just dead-ends that never got properly dowsed with the cold icy blast of reality that all my other infatuations suffered over the years. I have a wife right upstairs who loves me, and who knows I love her back, why quibble?

It's human nature to be curious. Searching what I believe to be her last name turns up only a Soundcloud of some twee bedroom pop. Oddly, it seems to have been uploaded only in 2018, but the vintage seems very 2006, very Juno. There's a picture of five people who appear to be related and I think she is one of them, but I never was that good with faces, and the voice seemed to be hers, but it's been a long long time and, you know, whatever.

From time to time I also think about the last girl I seriously wanted to go out with before I met Mel. She wasn't the exact last girl I went out with as there was a very pushy girl whose name I always think was Claire but I don't think that's right, who was very, very into me for a short while but then let me go when she decided we didn't have chemistry after one date. Before that though, it was Grace, the girl who told me that "Dating does to (her) what chocolate does to dogs" but I was so understanding and comforting that I got a second chance, but then she basically ghosted me, possibly because I mentioned I was being dragged out on a date with not-Claire, or possibly because I didn't eat the little smore bite she wanted me to try because I was too nervous and my stomach was flipping out, or because I didn't kiss her, or because I wasn't good company. Anyway I soon after entered a bad period when the store was announced to be closing and I sleepwalked through the rest of the summer before finally coming back to life later that year to find that I was working at Cole's and dating Mel.

Life's funny like that.

Anyway, this is all the past, and like I said, it has a filter on it because it didn't end in some huge dramatic moment. I would love to be able to say that it's impossible for me to ever think of anyone but my wife, and it's completely true that she occupies a unique spot in my world as the only person who carries, or has ever carried, that aura of "we belong together" but that doesn't mean the mind can't wander, the eye can't wander. The heart, however, would be very hard to budge.

So if Grace, or Leanne, or someone else from the past that I idealized but never had a resolution with, called me up tomorrow or got into my DMs -- like that time I ran into Robyn just before the pandemic -- I would probably get a kick out of toying with the idea, but I don't have it in me to misbehave, for the pure reason that I know there is no reality behind it. I know that as good as someone seems on the outside, there's a reason I never found anyone that I truly matched with before Mel. And while Mel and I have had problems, she's as close to me as my own limb, as an extension of myself.

I was going to say I "feel falling" for any number of reasons, got the world on my shoulders lately, unsure of my direction. Work is work, my extracurriculars aren't doing it for me, etc etc. But these are evergreen complaints and not in any way special. 

Tonight's dinner, weirdly enough for a hot summer's day, (actually it's quite cool), is stew. I had accidentally bought some stewing beef to make skewers with a few weeks ago, and Mel said "That's won't work, they'll be too tough" and I capitulated and got some tri tip (and it was still a little tough in places.) But I still had this stewing beef, then last weekend Nonna gave us some lentils so it's lentils and stew.

Well, you know, half the time we don't even know what to do for dinner so having to force yourself to make a weird stew in the middle of July isn't such a bad thing.

Cutting it here so I can go wake Mel up from her day-off nap.

Keep on rockin

-Scotto

One-and-Twenty: Asleep, Alarm, Awake, Arise, Aware, Asea, Alive

Today is kind of an odd day. It's Canada, but we're not really acknowledging it so much. This is not due to my ever-changing relationship with the concept of the nation (although this is definitely a factor in how I feel about observing the day) but more because Mel was pressed into working pretty much all day. As a result, this is just some kind of weird day off for me and me alone, where pretty much anywhere I could go is closed, except for the Starbucks on Fairview.

It hasn't been bad; I was very much due for a day like this. Yesterday by the end of the night I was drained, and Mel was working all evening until 11 then too, so I just sat and watched Dazed and Confused instead of trying to force myself to be "productive" on my various projects, which I knew there would be time for later. Today I got thousands of words written.

I feel good about how I spent the day in general, dedicating some time to cleaning the kitchen, although I didn't get too far. It being a holiday I had license to run the dishwasher and the laundry if I wanted, but I neglected that until just now, when it would have been off-peak hours anyway. Such is life.

Wednesday, I had an interview for the Big Job. I was wracked with nerves over what I would say and how to prepare, but as these things go the thing kind of took care of itself and we had a good vibe. It was a lot about what I have done, and a little bit about what I would do in the future. I was avuncular and thoughtful, there was good volleying. I think my odds are good for a second interview, and we'll see where it goes from there. No regrets at all, even if it doesn't amount to anything, and -- unless I am given some specious reasoning for being passed up (which has proven a thorn in my side once or twice in the past) -- I will accept whatever the result is. If they like me, I will make a good buyer. If they don't, I can simply be this, knowing that I made my move when the opportunity presented itself. Personally, I do think I presented some intriguing thoughts on the nature of the job and the portfolio, but again, there would be a whole other round of interviews to get through.

It's exciting, and intimidating.

You know, there's a lot to think about, where I've come from and where I'm going. I like the idea that if I get this job I can rest easy for a while -- I mean, it will be stressful to actually do the job, obviously, certainly to learn a new position -- and not fret over my direction in the company. This is a job you can do comfortably for five or ten years without worrying too much about what comes next, whereas I have been prodded about my next moves in my current role from the second year on, and it really does feel like you're supposed to age out of it. 

Which is what I'm having trouble with.

I mean, writing three or four smutty stories for a limited audience every year is not a future. It's a fine way to occupy my spare time, but it's not where my life is going. If I were serious, I'd get serious, and sometimes I still think about it. You know, you get the yen now and again to go for it, and I wish there was that fire, that consuming need, that pressure that I will die if I do not make something happen.

Well, actually I don't, but it would be nice to feel as if it were there.

Other than that, my brain is a little distended and loopy lately. I look at my phone and it's a proverbial wasteland if sensory input. Nothing to perk me up, nothing to focus on. I went through a phase where I was just reading and re-reading all the TV Tropes entries on R.E.M. and their albums, purely because I enjoy the subject matter even though I have already absorbed all of it. I'm sick of Faceback, with the exception of my one friend's daily meme dumps which I look forward to daily. Tired of the rasslin' blogs and all the gnomes who post there, tired of the podcasts. Nothing is firing me up lately, and things I like are coming to an end. My intellectual diet is starving. I am unstimulated.

Other than that, you know, I'm good. Drifting along. Dreaming.

Keep on Rockin'

-Scotto