Conquered Solitude

Sometimes you don’t realize how lonely you’ve become until someone special shows up to demonstrate how empty life is without them. My son accomplished that task yesterday when he arrived for the weekend during Frist Friday celebrations at Brew City. With all the storms, an inconvenient bout with the flu, and a hectic life with the ABFA we hadn’t seen each other since the holidays.

A Very Happy First Friday

Since he started a new job our weekly lunches are no longer possible and hanging out with him last night reminded me how much I depended on those for a weekly morale boost. If you’re blessed in life there are a few people whose simple presence is enough to immediately improve your existence. My son is definitely one of those people for me.

Source of a Very Good Friday Night

We adjourned to the house where Buddy was appropriately apoplectic at the arrival of his favorite human. They were shortly chasing each other through the house. After a Zorba’s pizza where we solved all the Red Sox problems, we video chatted with my son’s mother in Panama. He got a chance to see his grandparents and endured a maternal lecture on appropriate winter attire while I was directed to bring the phone around the house so she could visually inspect the health status of her verdant jungle of house plants. They’ve survived my care thus far and it’s only a couple more weeks until she’s back to insure their survival.  

Meanwhile in Texas

Some good news also touched down in the capitol of the lone star state as well as the WingMan arrived to join the Curbside wedding celebrations. He was tired after a long tour that took him literally coast to coast. He flew in from Chicago and if this picture is any indication I have a very happy daughter which is all a father can hope for.

One of the icons of my childhood departed the realm yesterday with the death of fellow Patriots fan Leonard Nimoy. I readily admit to being an unrepentant Trekkie and sci fi nerd. Nimoy with his incomparable Mr. Spock defined a science fiction renaissance that began with the iconic 1960’s Star Trek TV series. Nimoy was the connective tissue between all the innumerable progeny of that original series to include the recent two movies. He was a multi-faceted talent who certainly lived long and prospered. He’s now joined Bones and Scotty and all those red shirts and I will miss him.

How I'll Remember Him

Sox to Warm Up

This is always the worst time of year for sports fanatics, especially one such as me who’s made a conscious decision to boycott the travesty that is the National Basketball Association. The Bruins aren’t helping much this year with a Jekyll and Hyde approach to game effort. Then there’s the eight feet of snow contributing to the general malaise. It is therefore with intense pleasure that I gaze south as the boys of summer, and most importantly, the Boston Red Sox, begin their annual Florida rituals.

Any true native New Englander lives and more often dies with Red Sox. While last year was most definitely a down year, we as a region, have suffered a true embarrassment of riches over the past decade. This year’s team is intriguing. Pedroia, the heart of the team, looks healthy for the first time in two years and the ageless Ortiz has the 500 career home run goal within reach. He’ll have to adjust to the new rules that will require him to do less preening between pitches. I love that new rule, anything to speed up the pace of a game that has devolved with the need for both the pitcher and hitter to war-game each pitch. They need to address the pitchers’ timing as well. The best way to address the time problem would be to ban the TV close-ups of both the pitchers and the batter. They would be less prone to preening if they didn’t know the camera was locked on them.

The off season acquisitions of two bona fide hitters in Hanley Ramirez and Pablo Sandoval has to help with the lack of offense that last year’s team experienced. A return to form by a Mike Napoli able to sleep through the night and Shane Victorino back to switch hitting while being pushed by some youngsters in a very crowded outfield will help as well.

Pitching is the only real question mark but I kind of like the way they’ve gone about it. Each the starting five has the potential to emerge as a true stopper. If more than a couple do that then the Sox might just catch lightning in a bottle. I hope they avoid mortgaging the future by feeling the need to acquire a true ace. Just watching them going through the motions on the green field of Fort Meyers has me gazing over the snow bound fields trying to will the melting into overdrive and as any Sox fan will tell you in February – THIS IS THE YEAR!

ABFA and Son Last Weekend -Saddled with Me This Weekend

Something certain to warm this frozen heart will be the arrival this afternoon of my favorite son. He may even make it First Friday celebrations at Brew City so I can show him off to co-workers again. He’ll be joined tomorrow by the ABFA and in a welcome surprise, the ABFA’s parents as well. They obviously thought I was lonely without my favorite Panamanian (true that) and took steps to relieve those feelings. I’m very psyched.  Of course that meant I had to spend a significant portion of Thursday night returning the house to something resembling sanitary conditions. Buddy was a little ticked off as I scourged the house of bachelor living evidence.

The Pride of Carlisle PA Reigning in Austin

According to media reports the Curbside girls are absolutely dominating the Austin, Texas scene. Putting these volatile personalities together is always a recipe for memorable times. They’re gathering for the marriage of one of their own and WingMan flies in today to join to that cacophony after finishing his tour  up in Chicago. 

Low Riding Abomination

I finally took the plunge yesterday and ran my wife’s car through a car wash. It was sorely needed as the color was not readily identifiable under the encasing of salt and various and other sundry products the winter road conditions bestowed upon it. I’ve only used the Camry once in the last month because for the most part the roads have been snow covered and the Highlander does better in the snow. The relentless onslaught of winter storms made washing it a seemingly fruitless endeavor. We’ve now gone five complete days without any accumulating snow and while it’s still frigid the roads are basically dry. I hit the car wash on the way home from the movies because I felt dirty and needed some cleansing (more on that later).

Ahhh - the 2015 Winter 

Now that I’ve got the car clean I don’t want to drive it. I set out in the Camry this morning and discovered something I had not anticipated. The Highlander sits a lot higher which allowed me to look over most of the snow banks. I lost that ability with the Camry and it significantly increased the pucker factor, especially when pulling out of the driveway. Even though the snow banks have shrunk some this week I still can’t see over the piles at the end of the driveway from hell even in the Highlander. I’d worked out a system where I’d check both ways on the approaching street when I was halfway down the driveway and then trust no one was exceeding the sound barrier when I pulled blindly out into the street. As I left this morning I made my check and discovered the lower line of sight in the Camry made that impossible – couldn’t see over the snow banks. This meant just edging the nose of the car out into the street to see if it got torn off – as I said – serious pucker factor.

My Wife Harvesting Some Sort of Arcane Fruit in her Parents' Back Yard

I had various members of my far flung family reporting in yesterday. My wife continued to complain about the heat in Panama. I’m just not sure why this is such a surprise for her. Life in New England has obviously thickened up her blood. She had to renew her Panamanian passport and said it was too easy – she should have the new one in 2-3 days which is normal. I think she could hear my teeth grinding after my passport gymnastics of a couple weeks ago.

Curbside Alert in Austin!

My daughter left the warm climes of California for Austin, Texas where one of the redoubtable Curbside ladies is to be married this weekend. The Curbside gals are renting a Bed and Breakfast for the entire time and I can only imagine how much fun is going to be perpetrated in that abode over the next few days. WingMan is breaking away from his tour to join her for a couple of them. When last heard from my daughter was waiting at the airport baggage claim for the New York flight of another Curbside girl who was coming in with the first Curbside progeny.

Finally, as to why I felt the need for cleansing after the movies last night. I’d hoped to see The Theory of Everything but that was no longer playing so I decided to see Hot Tub Time Machine 2 since they seemed like similarly themed films (J). I’d kind of liked the first Hot Tub Time Machine which had some very funny moments raking the 1980s over the coals. The sequel is nothing short of a full abomination. The jokes aren’t funny and there’s nothing remotely redeeming about the characters involved.

Rob Corddray can be very funny in small doses as a supporting character but he fails miserably here as the lead. The film sorely missed John Cusack who was smart enough to avoid this disaster. My daughter will tell you that low brow comedy is something I have been known to partake of at times, much to her consternation. For someone of my ilk to be so totally turned off by this failed attempt at humor speaks volumes as to the level of putridity. Don’t go see this, don’t rent it when it comes out on DVD, and turn the channel when it inevitably seeps into cable. A frontrunner for worst movie of the year, but it is early yet.

Ambush Hosting and Frustrating Read

A group of senior muckedy mucks from the New York City Transit System were due in yesterday to tour our facility and pick our brains on our experience with electric buses over the last two years. I noted this on my calendar a few weeks ago and did no prep work since this was going to be answering questions and little more. That is until yesterday morning when my excellent boss’ neck went on the fritz and all of a sudden I was in charge of hosting the entire group.

I had to get real smart real quick – never an easy task even under good conditions given the brain pan involved. They turned out to be a very engaging group, even with their Yankee allegiances fully exposed. I took them up to O’Conner’s for a typical New England (Irish) dinner which was a big success. The food was typically awesome but the conversation even more so. We live in different work worlds with our small fleet compared to the thousands of buses they are responsible for but they still seemed interested in how we did things. One of their managers had an advanced degree from M.I.T. which is something our system certainly can’t afford. I didn’t get home until nearly 11 o’clock and then had to turn around early this morning since they wanted to start their tour of the facility at 6a.m. (Yankee Fans!)

I finished my latest Kyle Mills’ book, Burn Factor, which was a tough read for most part. His hero this time out was a brilliant young female FBI analyst who stumbles upon a hidden serial killer. She doesn’t know who to trust until she falls into company with a super intellect guy who was previously her prime suspect. They are soon on the run from the real killer who’s ably supported by a nefarious defense contractor (are there any other kind?).

My main problem was the obviously brilliant pair of heroes took a full half of the book to figure out the very apparent connection the killer had with the defense contractor. I hate it when something so blatant is delayed simply as a plot device when it makes no sense whatsoever. When Mills gets them past that point and in a fight for their lives with the killer the book truly takes off. The killer is a Nobel Prize winning brain himself and would give Mr. Lector a run for his money in deviousness.  Mills is starting to grow on me but I almost gave up on this book before it started making sense.

Non-Celebratory Records Reluctantly Fall

Yesterday was definitely a post-Oscar recovery day. The seemingly balmy mid-20 degree temperatures of Sunday were a distant memory as the polar vortex once again asserted itself with more than a little attitude. We set a record overnight with minus 12 degrees cold. No one was celebrating the record. The winds were once again allowed full voice and tried to close the driveway from hell again. Fortunately the bright sun and nearly above freezing temperature of Sunday combined to finally stabilize some of the snow pack. This meant snow available to cover only half the driveway which my stalwart best friend threw off the driveway with not a little disdain. I’m sure the sight of me and snow blower out in the driveway in my office clothes made for quite a sight.  Then again I was coated in the white stuff in such short order that it didn’t matter.

Less than a month ago I was genuinely worried about the snow plow drivers who up to the end of January had virtually no work. In the careful what you wish for department those guys are now ordering new pools and planning extravagant vacations with their February haul. Now that the winter has its claws sunk so deeply into the area it doesn’t want to leave. March is less than a week away and the long range forecast doesn’t project a single day with temps above freezing so the March Lion thing is a pretty sure bet.

The Chef In Front of Her Wares

The Party

I finally got some good pictures of my daughter’s California Oscar extravaganza – color me very impressed. She’s only been out there a couple months but has obviously acquired a great group of friends who have now been exposed to her annual Oscar Party and are changed for life. I don’t know where she gets these party inclinations from. Here’s her snack menu:

- Mendl’s pastry Grand Budapest Hotel

- Chocolate cookies with colored icing to mimic Alan Turing’s machine in The Imitation Game (the sign also said “we can’t all be winners” because they did not turn out how she wanted them to.)

- Galaxy candy bark made out of various candy melts melted and swirled together for Theory of Everything

- Buffalo chicken stuffed ring for Birdman

- Pecan pie for Selma (MLK Jr’s favorite dessert)

- USA! USA! Jello Shots for American Sniper

- Popcorn with raisinets on top for Whiplash

- 12 Hour Texas BBQ Pulled Pork for Boyhood

Sunshine and Solo Oscar Night

Sunny Front Yard

Yesterday the snow stopped in the early morning hours and was followed by a truly rare sight – sunshine. I knew from my recent Panamanian adventure that the sun was in fact still up there but New Englanders were starting to wonder. The temperatures never got above thirty but it still felt like a heat wave after the frigid existence of the past month. The freshly fallen snow should have had even a hard hearted cynic waxing eloquently about the pristine beauty but we’re beyond that. Just too much of a bad thing with the snow that never seems to end. We’re ready to see our submerged fences and hedges.

My Oscar Date in Position Last Night

For the third year in a row I was watching the Academy Awards alone which robs a certain amount of enjoyment out of the process. Buddy parked himself beside me for the first half but he wasn’t much of a conversationalist. I’ve got to acquire a fellow movie nut as a friend to watch this annual pinnacle of the Hollywood year. My wife will continue her tropical sojourns during this coldest of months so I’m kind of stuck.

I liked the telecast this year with Neil Patrick Harris as the host. I thought he looked very nervous at times, like it was a little too much for him. The opening number was well done but seemed kind of rushed – a great tribute to Hollywood past and present with able assistance from Anna Kendrick and Jack Black.  I did better than usual with my Oscar predictions only missing on six (and going 5 for 6 in the major categories) but as usual most of the predictions were nothing more than WAGs (Wild Ass Guesses).

Common and John Legend - Best Speech of Night

The speeches were very good this year but the best of the night goes to Common and John Legend after winning for best song for Selma. They were articulate and powerful in what the song meant to them. David Oyelowo tried to demonstrate what a mistake it was to pass him over for an acting nomination by crying copiously whenever a camera was near. He had some serious competition from Chris Pine though.

Birdman Soared

John Travolta cemented his reputation as the creepiest middle aged actor in Hollywood by face raping Idina Menzel after correctly pronouncing her name for the first time. They screwed up the In Memory section again by having only portraits instead of clips with no audience reaction. This was a true shame in a year we lost James Garner, Lauren Bacall, Robin Williams, and Mike Nichols. Birdman sprinted to the finish with most of the big awards but The Grand Budapest Hotel saw a lot of richly deserved love over the night. Earlier in the day I re-watched Birdman and it deserved the accolades. Why do they still let Sean Penn near a microphone is beyond me.

When I heard Lady Gaga had finagled her way into the Oscar broadcast I cringed at what she would inflict upon us in the name of her “art”. I was thus genuinely surprised when she was luminous and hit all the highest of notes in the tribute to the Sound of Music that even moved Julie Andrews who came on as she finished. The tattoos were distracting and I still don’t “get” that but that’s my curmudgeon side asserting itself.

My Creative Daughter's Pastries

My daughter’s annual Oscar party must have been a success because I didn’t get my usual late night call to rehash the results. It was still only 9pm out there when the telecast finished which is entirely more convenient than right coast midnight. One of the stars of her Oscars snacks was re-creating the signature pastries from the Grand Budapest Hotel. I don’t know where she gets this from. 

Taxing Shades

Another errand day yesterday in advance of yet another weekend snow storm – this one ended up being only six inches which for this winter is no big deal. I felt the need for companionship so I put the back seat cover in the Camry and Buddy accompanied me on all of the errands. This meant any pedestrian foolish enough to approach within fifty meters of the car was roundly castigated.  This was the first time in over a month I took the Camry out of the garage because for the first time in that month the roads were down to the bare pavement.

The snow came in overnight which meant another session with the driveway from hell this morning. It was a rare opportunity to do the snow blowing during daylight hours which was welcome. Another sign of how extraordinary this winter is trying to be is that I’ve reached a point where the snow blower can no longer throw the snow over the built up snow banks at the end of the driveway. That’s never happened before. I would never use the flatlander technique (which used to piss me off so much in Virginia) of throwing the snow out into the street so I am now moving the snow twice – I throw it up the driveway far enough to escape the huge drifts at the bottom and then again out into the yard. This is the winter that just keeps on giving.

Trusty Snowblower at Bottom of Driveway In Front of Drift Too High to Throw Over

Yesterday was also the day I dedicated to the annual battle with the ever complicating US tax code. I remember the quaint old days when you had to go to the library or post office to get the needed income tax forms to fill out before everything was so electronically inclined. I still do my own taxes because my life financially is comparatively simple, mainly due to my own complete lack of any financial acumen. A few years ago I started using the H&R Block tax software which takes even an accountancy challenged fellow such as myself through a fairly easy process. It’s still a process though as I was poring through bank statements and half-remembered charitable donations trying to wring every last deduction. It took a couple hours, done while one of my favorite movies – Aliens, was playing in the background. I pushed the button to file the returns electronically just as Ripley and the Queen were duking it out.

Taxes - The Aftermath With All Relevant Documents Expertly Organized

I had a nice talk with my daughter who’s moved her annual Academy Awards party to the left coast this year. In fact she’ll be partying just a few miles from the actual awards ceremony. As a fellow movie geek we compared notes and she revealed the snacks she was preparing. Each year she tries to create snacks emblematic of the best picture nominees – she promised me pictures tonight. One of them will be red, white, and blue jello shots for - American Sniper.

My wife decided to blow off her high school reunion which surprised me since dancing was involved. She later decided the dancing portion of the reunion at the legendary Joron Zepeda was too much to pass on so she rallied some of her gang and set out to dance.

My Wife Looking Tropically Hot in Panama Yesterday

Before the snow flew I snuck out to see what all the hub bub was about Fifty Shades of Grey. Since I’m male I have not been allowed to read the book which seems to have been some sort of mania over the past couple years. Since its a bona fide movie phenomena I was going to see it. I was one of two males in the nearly packed theater which included a lot of fairly loud conversations between the clutches of females. I’m more than certain that a number of these ladies fortified their attendance with some adult beverages ahead of time.

I’m still mystified after the movie. I don’t get it, maybe it’s the Y chromosome I’m carrying around. The movie seemed kind of tawdry. It’s the same type movie you’d see late on any Friday night on Skinemax only with higher production values. I guess I’m not meant to get it – but the ladies certainly seem to enjoy it.

Cumulative Lassitude

As any regular reader of this blog will undoubtedly testify I am a huge fan of Fridays in all of its weekend heralding glory. That is why I am so intensely disappointed in myself for yesterday My wife went out for a movie and some pizza with her brother down in Panama and when she returned shortly after 10PM she found a text from me that I had already gone to bed. I cannot remember the last time in my life I was in bed on a Friday night (or any night for that matter) before 11PM.  I attribute this to something I’ve noticed over the last few years as I rush pell-mell into my sixtieth year – the week has a tendency to catch up with me progressively culminating with a deep weariness on Fridays. I’m nothing if not stubborn so I’ve tried to resist this seemingly long delayed coming of age but I was helpless last night.

The long week began with some intense partying in the tropics and then reached a nadir with my four hour tete-a-tete with the driveway from hell. Returning to work but still facing two a day sessions on the driveway even on the days it didn’t snow certainly contributed to the cumulated malaise which was exacerbated by the polar quality temperatures which only drove in the point that at this point last week I was body surfing in the lukewarm Pacific Ocean. At any rate I did go through the motions of First Friday with an all too fun couple of hours at Brew City with co-workers and then a solitary dinner at Zorba’s. I then made a real attempt at clearing out the DVR which had built up over the vacation absence. I was only a couple shows into Justified when even Raylan Givens couldn’t keep my eyelids from descending and I declared defeat and headed upstairs. I awoke to find a very pointed return message from my wife who said I never went to bed that early when she was around. It was a richly deserved rebuke for my lack of intestinal fortitude last evening.

California Cat Trying to Look Villainous With my Daughter

These Guys Next Weekend - Whoop, Whoop

In the good news department I will have some very welcome assistance next Friday that should decisively prevent a repeat failure. My son will be joining me to mark Frist Friday and will be joined by the ABFA on Saturday. It could be the jig I was dancing after hearing this news contributed to my fatigue level but I am very psyched to spend some time with these two superb humans. Yesterday was a day for good phone calls. I spoke with my younger sister who’s recovering from a very nasty fall and she reported a steady recovery as well as continuing the family tradition of being a poor patient in that she was having trouble letting other people do things for her. I also spent some time talking with Keene Friend who was finishing his second week at his new job and marveling at actually experiencing a third weekend in a row with no work for the first time in a couple years.

The New Faucet

Earlier in the day I had to juggle a couple of appointments. The plumbers showed up early (who saw that coming) but we agreed that repairing a faucet that had failed three times in the last ten years was not as good an option as replacing the whole thing which they did in fairly timely fashion. This freed me up to squire Buddy to his annual Veterinarian’s appointment. He was a little confused why no kennel was involved when he mounted the car but was enthusiastically checking out the hundreds of different scents in the parking lot as I tried to drag him into the vet’s office. He checked out completely healthy and got his shots without complaint. There was a funny moment when the young aide took the leash and asked Buddy if he would accompany her down the hall. A microsecond later I saw the bottoms of her shoes as she desperately tried to keep up with the enthusiastically accompanying Buddy. The only bad news was I was supposed to show up with a stool sample from Buddy. This is normally not a problem since he has always been a very generous donor but now all his “treasures” are strewn across multiple layers of really deep snow. I’ve also got to figure out how to get a sample into the very small bottle they gave me – oh the joy of dog ownership!

Buddy Waiting to See What Comes Through the Door

I've Got to get it Into That Small a Bottle! This Will Be Fun!

Finally today is the birthday of a very special person – my wife’s niece, who lives in Panama City. I was unable to link up with her during my abbreviated visit last week but she remains one of my favorite people. It doesn’t hurt that she’s also the New England Patriots’ #1 fan in Central America! Happy Birthday!!!!!

Happy, Happy, Happy Birthday

Frigidity and Then a Cinema Surprise

I’m still not dealing well with the incredibly cold temperatures following my serene tropical sojourn. Yesterday the winds returned with a vengeance which meant two more snow blowing sessions with the driveway from hell. If you give this hilltop a couple hours with some serious wind it feels compelled to fill up the driveway to the tops of the snow banks with blowing snow. The issue is that those snow banks are well over six feet in some locations. So this basically – sucks.

Buddy granted permission to leave him for a couple hours to check out a movie last night. Kingsman, The Secret Service turned out to be the first big pleasant surprise of 2015. The best word to describe this flick is fun – it’s a hoot from beginning to end. Colin Firth (who can do anything) is a senior and very lethal secret agent who recruits a young ne'er do well. The movie moves relentlessly but never loses its sense of fun (there’s that word again).

Samuel L Jackson is in full camp mode as a lisping super villain ably assisted by a young lady with razor sharp prosthetics (you kind of get the idea). The movie is very violent but in a cartoonish way that makes it entertaining. Seeing the usually staid Firth clean out a church full of red necks armed only with an umbrella and then the biggest head exploding panorama in cinema history will give you an idea of what awaits you. The young lead actor, Taron Egerton, took a while to grow on me but he held his own with Firth, Mark Strong and Michael Caine – no mean task. Plant you tongue firmly in cheek and go see this movie – just so much FUN!!!

Ran Across this Picture for a Very Young WingMan - so Cool

Transient Monday

Monday is deservedly the least loved day of the week but yesterday I had a Monday migrating two days and fully complicating the usual travails of Hump Day. Coming back from vacation is never easy on the first day behind the desk but when you leave a tropical paradise complete with the loving arms of your significant other and plunge yourself smack dab into the middle of a historically bad New England winter; well, let’s just say “complicated” doesn’t begin to describe it.

I started the day back out in the haunted driveway to complete the clearing I started in the dark upon my return. The only good thing about the operation was the rare lack of wind which eased the length of throws. Everyone at work stopped by the office to welcome me back and revel in my opinions on the resident polar vortex after running around in shorts for the prior week. I noted a complete lack of sympathy.

In the “getting old still sucks department” my nocturnal gyrations with the snowblower/newspaper shredder on the garage floor produced some lingering aches and pains. Apparently the gymnastic turns required to get to the newspaper embedded in the snowblower required the use of some long dormant muscles which staged a significant protest all day. This is where you insert a commercial on the importance of Tylenol.    

I’m glad the next door neighbor and her kids were on vacation Tuesday night so they were spared the auditory adjunct to my garage efforts. I gave full throat to some fairly colorful language (this is where an Army career is truly valuable) and may have blistered some of the paint on wall.

The Slightly Enlarged Buddy Returns

The day took a definite turn for the better after work as I journeyed south to Rhode Island to reunite with the Wonder Pooch. Buddy’s greeting when he saw me was epic. My sister said at one point all four of his feet were off the ground. I was too busy defending some of my more important body parts from flailing paws to notice. What I did notice after the prolonged reunion was that Buddy has put on some weight. He conned my all too kind sister into doubling his meals and I’m sure was more successful begging food that he is with me. My sister also reported they learned the price for giving Buddy a little too much rich food which went a long way in testing the limits of my sister’s gag reflex.

Spending some time with my sister, namesake nephew, and briefly my brother in law felt a lot more like homecoming than the late night catastrophe of the driveway from hell on Tuesday night. It didn’t hurt that she prepared one of my favorite meals and a Death by Chocolate cake either.

Venturing Out to Find His Spot

Buddy and I returned home to a phone conversation with Cali-daughter who reported her long anticipated quarterly return to the East Coast will occur on the same weekend her mother comes home – talk about a morale boost! Buddy was a little taken back by the condition of his normal stomping grounds as he sunk above his head when I let him out to do his business. He looked back at me, seemingly saying – are you going to do anything about this? He quickly and rather expertly stomped out a trail which I’m sure he’ll continue to expand. It was so cool to have another living entity back in the house with me – then he knocked over my soda. Well it can’t be all roses.

I knocked out two Kyle Mills’ books while in Panama, Storming Heaven and Free Fall. Both books featured his unconventional FBI hero Mark Beamon. In the first he was investigating a kidnapping that uncovered a vast infiltration of the government by an insidious “Mormon like” church. In the second he’s looking into the murder of a rock climber which leads to key evidence affecting the last moments of a US presidential election.

In both cases Beamon is running into significant issues with the FBI leadership which has him skating furiously on increasingly thin ice. Mills is starting to grow on me and he has a very dry sense of humor which I always like. I’ve started another of his books that doesn’t have Beamon so we’ll see. Mills is still auditioning with me for his reported assumption of the Mitch Rapp series which I loved so much.

My wife reported in from Panama that she'd traveled to a new location in Panama that we'll have to check out when I return (see pictures below). It's up in the mountains near Volcan and called Cuesta de Piedras. Looks fairly picturesque and entirely more green than my current surroundings. I so want to go back.