2009 Mercury Mariner Hybrid 4WD
Purchased: September 19, 2009
Weight: 3669 pounds
Length: 175.2 inches

So I was driving home from work the other night, and this car in the lane next to me had a bumper sticker that read:

HANG UP AND DRIVE!

A sentiment I wholeheartedlyagree with, mind you. But as I passed the car and glanced into the cabin, what do I see but the driver, yakking away on her phone. Now, I’m sure there are a dozen possible explanations (the car was borrowed, it was an emergency, yadda yadda yadda…). But where’s the fun in rationalizing such a pure and symbolic image?

This post, much like my last, is political (though much less so). I have no intention of turning this blog into a series of political rants. But I just got the following pictures from my brother-in-law Rick and I just had to share them. (Well, he’s not legally my brother-in-law; he’s my partner’s brother’s partner. Confusing? Sorry about that. Picture it like this…if Brian were a woman, and we were both heterosexual, and we were married, and Brian’s brother Dean were a woman, and both he and Rick were heterosexual, and were married, then Rick and I would be brothers-in-law)

OK, now my head hurts. See…this is why gay marriage makes so much sense. It’s just easier to explain who’s who.

Anyhoo…this person I know named Rick sent me a bunch of pictures of dumb people protesting this-and-that. He actually sent me more pictures than the ones you’ll see here. Some of the others make it 100% clear on which side of the political spectrum the protesters lie. I’ve chosen to focus on just a few. They really don’t tell you whether the protesters are righties or lefties (but you’ll be able to figure it out). I’m presenting you with these select few because of the sheer irony of them. Please, please, please people. If you’re aim is to force the English language on the entire country, at least—-well, you get the picture. (and if you don’t, I feel bad for you)

September 11th…

Here in Ohio, the eighth anniversary of the attacks looked eerily similar to that beautiful yet horrible morning in 2001. The skies were crystal clear and gloriously blue. It’s the kind of blue that almost looks unreal; the kind that you usually only get near the ocean, where the light bouncing off the water helps amplify the light from the sun. In Ohio, we only see such a blue when the humidity is extremely low, so there’s no haze to obscure the light. That’s what we get in the fall, and that’s what yesterday and Sept. 11, 2001 were both like–an early taste of fall.

No matter what the weather, you can always count on the usual flood of media rehashings and recollections of the attacks. Since the first anniversary, I’ve mostly avoided them, because they don’t really say anything new, and I feel like it’s just the media trying to drum up business. But this year, I couldn’t pull away. I read every story I could find. There were some perspectives that I hadn’t come across before; the New York Times article about how the city didn’t turn into the fortress (or economic has-been) that everyone predicted in the early days after the attacks; the Slate article about the vigilante/Marine who found the two survivors profiled in Oliver Stone’s movie World Trade Center. But most of it was the usual rehashing that we’ve all grown accustomed to.

So why couldn’t I take my eyes off it? Was it the weather, making things feel so similar to 2001? No, it wasn’t a feeling of sameness at all. It was the overwhelming feeling that something was different. But what? What’s really changed, for me or the world in general, in these past eight years? It took me nearly all day to figure it out. But finally, driving home from work, it hit me. What’s different this year from the past eight is that we have a new President sitting in the Oval Office, and this new President is not just a carbon copy of the last one. This new President gives me hope…hope that we’ll finally undo all the damage that was done to this country in the name of “Homeland Security”. The curtailing of personal freedoms. The unlawful detention and torture. The attacks on anyone who dared to openly question the White House’s motives. The invasion of Iraq, launched on the weakest pretexts in the history of modern warfare, and all because that mean ol’ Saddam tried to kill Dubya’s Daddy. Face it, folks–after that awful day, we had sympathy and solidarity from nearly every sane person on the face of the planet, and Little Georgie managed to throw it all away.

I don’t pretend to be able to predict the future, and I don’t have any inside scoop on Obama’s administration. But after eight years of a president whose only goal seemed to be increasing his own imperial power, I do believe we now have a leader who has the country’s best interests in mind.  I honestly don’t know how Obama’s presidency is going to play out.  But I have hope…

Have you ever heard the old saying that you can take the phrase “in bed” and add it to the end of the fortune on any fortune cookie, and it fits? Well, I had Chinese for lunch today:

The really great man is the man
who makes everyone feel great

Well folks, as so often happens in this little game called life, things don’t turn out as we planned. I was all prepared to send updates and photos during our cruise. Holland America’s marketing really left me with the impression that there was no corner of the ship that wasn’t in constant contact with the internet. I had my camera, my laptop, and enough cords to wire up NASA, and was looking forward to blogging (or at least tweeting) during my trip.

Alas…not only was our stateroom devoid of internet access, the damn internet cafe was offline most of the time as well. Brian tried twice (not once, TWICE) to get online, was charged 10 bucks each time, and never even came close to getting a web page to form. Pathetic. Now, being an IT guy, I know there are a lot of factors involved. So I won’t throw all my blame at the cruise line. But I will say they handled the whole mess pretty poorly.

But let’s not dwell on the negative. This was a FANTASTIC trip!!! I highly recommend you take a moment (or 100) and spend some time enjoying the photos on my photo site . It took me days and days and days to finish it, but the photos are very well documented with commentary on what we saw and why it was worth seeing. Now that I’m back into the groove of things (and we’re almost to the end of Brian’s latest marathon trip), I’ll have time to blog some details about our destinations.

Speaking of destinations, there’s nothing like taking your next trip before you blog about your last, but that’s the way it went down. Spent this past weekend back in Ogunquit (OGT). It seems OGT is all about the weather this year. The first few weeks of summer were solid rain and cold. My last visit there (Fourth of July) was mostly sunny and warm–a real anomaly. This past weekend was totally influenced by Hurricane Bill, who skirted the coast all weekend long. Ol’ Bill actually caused my flight out on Friday to be canceled. It was a pisser, but it was really only a difference of a few hours.

Once I finally got to town on Saturday and took a much-needed nap, we headed down to the beach. Now, Ogunquit is not known for its roaring surf and dramatic waves, but we had plenty of both this weekend. The noise was defeaning! And rare is the day when the red flags are raised over the beach in OGT. But they were flying high on Saturday, the PA system was blaring warnings to stay out of the water, and the lifeguards actually looked like they were earning their keep. The oddest part about the whole thing was this thick layer of fog hanging over town, like a layer of gauze covering the shoreline. You’ll see what I mean in the first two photos below.

Sunday was fog-free and crystal clear, and the waves were even more dramatic. Now, of all the things we love about Ogunquit, one of the greatest is the geography. The Town of Ogunquit is named for the Ogunquit River. Where the river meets the sea, Mother Nature has created a very neat dividing line between two totally different landscapes. To the north of the river, miles and miles of sand, often rated New England’s best beach. To the south, miles and miles of rocky cliffs, which is what so many people think of when they imagine Maine. In OGT, there’s a path that meanders along the edge of these cliffs, called the Marginal Way, and it’s one of OGT’s honest-to-goodness treasures. We headed down to the Marginal Way Sunday morning to watch the surf crash on the rocks, and it was quite a spectacular show.

I find that part of me feels a little guilty for taking such pleasure from a hurricane. People actually DIED because of this storm. I want to take a moment to discuss that. I don’t want to just tell you about what I saw that day, but how I feel about the events I experienced. I guess that’s one of the reasons certain blogs inspire me, and why I chose to start one of my own. If I just wanted you to read about what I observed (and look at some pictures), I could’ve started a Facebook page (or just point you to my photo site). Instead, I want to point out the cosmic meaning behind it all.

So for today’s soul-searching meaning-of-life dissertation, I want to delve into the incongruity (yes, it’s a real word) of finding pleasure in a natural phenomenon that brought death and destruction just a few miles away from me. It’s hard to reconcile the joy I felt with the unfathomable grief that the family of that little girl must be going through. You’re totally going to think this sounds like I’m making light of the situation, but I’m not. I’m going to offer you a quote from a man we can all agree is wise beyond his years:

“…many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.”

–Obi-Wan Kenobi
‘Star Wars: Episode VI – Return of the Jedi’

Call me trite, call me a nerd, call me what you will. The statement fits, and this storm shows why. From the point of view of the family of that little girl, this storm was a horrible, unspeakable, diabolical (if they’re religiously inclined) event. From my point of view, it was an awesome, beautiful, inspiring one. Is that wrong? No. It just is. It’s like life itself. If life treats you poorly, it looks horrible. If life treats you well, it’s a beautiful thing.

Before you go ponder all that, here are some pictures of this storm, from my point of view. Click on any one of them for a larger version. Click on the larger version to see the full-size photo.

Very very busy week, both at work and at home. With our vacation rapidly approaching, Benjamin returning from Germany, my sister having her baby, my boss having his baby, and all the various and sundry activities which go along with just keeping up, I haven’t had time to share my wisdom with you. I’ve got so many things I want to talk about…how Ben’s trip to Germany has really reawakened the memories of my own foreign exchange experience…what it’s like to be a big fat 40-plus-year-old man working deep in the halls of Abercrombie & Fitch…what moving out of Ohio means to me…how much I love my cell phone …how excited I am to have gotten tickets to the Ohio State/USC game…the list goes on and on.

But don’t despair. I’m going to do my best to keep my photo site up-to-date with pictures from the cruise. From what we’ve read, this ship is supposed to be one giant floating wi-fi hotspot. We’ll see. If it really does work, maybe I’ll tweet some blog entries about my experience, too. Do stay tuned…

Aidan Robert Cole Pingle
Born: July 6, 2009 @ 1:55 PM
Weight: 6 pounds, 8 ounces
Length: 19 inches

Spent the Fourth of July weekend at our condo in Ogunquit, Maine (aka ‘OGT’). My partner Brian has been up there for the past two weeks, working on his latest book, and he still has one more week to go. So I needed a fix.

It was quite the full weekend…lunch in Portsmouth, NH. with our friends Cary and Jim…dinner in OGT with Leslie (one of Brian’s clients) and her husband Troy (who introduced us to Cranberry Island Whoopee Pies, made with real buttercream filling and not shortening)…people watching with our friend Dale on Saturday morning…lunch on Saturday with Karen (another client of Brian’s) and her boyfriend Paul.

The beach was practically deserted on Saturday, even though it was the Fourth of July. New England is having one of the coldest, wettest summers on record, and while Saturday was the nicest day they’ve had in weeks, there was a still a little shower in the afternoon. We walked north up the beach to Moody. As we turned to head back, we could see the rain streaming out of the clouds over Ogunquit, even though we were standing in sunshine. It was a really cool sight…and even cooler was the rainbow which formed over the Atlantic, just for our viewing pleasure. I grabbed a shot using the camera in my phone (which is proving itself to be quite the nice camera…more on the phone in a future post). Click on it to see a larger version.

After a quick bite at our favorite burrito shop, we ducked in to Oxygen, the latest in a series of dance bars in a two-story house just down the street from us. The name of the place seems to change every year, but until this summer, the place always looked the same. This time around, the owners really put some thought into making it look different. It tries a bit too hard to be chic, and the DJ was awful (could we have more than a 30-second snippet of each song, please?), but it was comfortable, and the drinks were stiff.

Notice a pattern to this entry? It reads like it was written by a man with a social life. Funny thing is, that’s not me. At least, it’s not NORMALLY me. It’s almost as if Brian and I lead two lives. One, in Columbus, Ohio–with kids and jobs and bills and no social life except for the nights we volunteer at the concession stands. The other, in OGT–with restaurants and bars and walks on the beach and friends who call US to go out. We’re very VERY fortunate to be able to lead those two lives (even though I only take part in the second life three or four times a year). But these two lives will soon be merging in to one. With Logan and Heidee in college and Benjamin about to start his senior year in high school, the empty nest years are fast approaching. I’m happy to say I’m looking forward to it. Not in a “thank-God-the-brats-are-almost-out-of-the-house” way. More like a “how-exciting-we’re-moving-on-to-the-next-phase-of-our-lives” way.

That said, Brian and I have declared for a long time that once the kids were out of the house, we would pack up and leave Ohio. Ever since the good people of this state chose to ban gay marriage, we decided they didn’t need any more of our fag tax money. There was some discussion about packing up and moving right then and there. But Logan was just graduating high school at the time, and we couldn’t imagine yanking our kids away from their friends. (but doesn’t Rush Limbaugh say gays are totally hedonistic and self-centered?) So we chose to stay put for the time being. That time is nearing its end.

I was born and raised a Buckeye, and I’ve never lived anywhere else. Went to Ohio State. Marched in the Band. Still live and breathe Ohio State football. My family is still here (including a brand new nephew, born just yesterday). But you know something, Beautiful Ohio? You all can go fuck yourselves. My taxes are better spent in a place where my 14-year relationship–three kids, dog, SUV, house in the ‘burbs, soccer practice, lacrosse practice, band practice, concessions stands, fund raisers, orthodontist appointments, sleepovers, fights, hugs, tears and laughter–can be LEGALLY recognized for what it is.

(Timmy will now step down from his soap box….)

The apparent digression above is actually not a digression at all, but a segue into the finale of our weekend. We spent Sunday driving around neighborhoods where we might like to live once we’re free of the shackles (kidding!). We cruised around Fall River, MA, but it felt too much like so many of the faded industrial towns here in the Rust Belt. We really liked the east side of Providence, RI. Leafy, established, full of great older houses (many with views), close to downtown, and funky shops and restaurants within walking distance. Of course, Rhode Island doesn’t allow gay marriage yet, and my job will have a lot to do with the decision. But it was fun to fantasize about our future together (yes, Ann Coulter, there are fags who think about their future).

This first post won’t be some sort of autobiography.  You have to glean the details of my being little by little from the pieces I choose to share with you.  No, this post will be about why I started writing a blog, and why everything has to have two titles.

Why a blog?  I was inspired.  Inspired by a very dear friend of mine, Lauren McClanahan (née Gurosko), who I met in college.  Now keep in mind, Lauren’s a PhD and teaches English and so she writes extremely well.  I did too, back in the day.  As a Political Science major, all I did in college was write, stating and defending my opinions on why World War II was the pivotal event of the 20th Century and stuff.  But somewhere along the way, my writing turned very short and less colorful.  Could it possibly have anything to do with my career turn as a software developer?  Hmmm…

Anyhoo, reading my friend Lauren’s blog has inspired me to the point where I’d like to share my story with the world, and give myself an outlet for my desire to write again.

As for this whole two-title thing, well…ever watch ‘Rocky & Bullwinkle’?  I grew up on it (oh look!  a clue!  he’s old enough to have watched ‘Rocky & Bullwinkle’ as a child.)  At the end of each episode, the voice-over announcer would say, “Tune in next time for ‘Title A’, or ‘Title B’”.  The stated titles rarely– if ever–had anything to do with the actual plot of the upcoming episode.  Normally, they were just silly puns.  Really silly puns, like “The Snowman Cometh”, or “An Icicle Built for Two”.  But I understood the play on words, even at my early age, and I think it was an early clue that I would grow up to enjoy words and wordplay.

I’m fascinated by–and just a little jealous of–those people who are able to expertly weave strings of words into a tapestry that is so rich and intricate that I can see what the writer is seeing, just by reading those words. David Sedaris, Leonard Pitts, Jr., Cary Tennis, Paul Goldberger, Annie Proulx. Maybe my own blog will give me the opportunity to hone some of those skills myself (assuming I have the time to keep up with it). Or then again, maybe it’ll just devolve into a series of lame, bitchy rants.

Either way, I’m glad you’re here, whoever and wherever you are.  Enjoy…