Little Fish, Big River, Bigger City

Ever have a plain vanilla day? A day without anything out of the ordinary, a day with practically nothing to write about? Yea, me too. So goes it on this fine Mardi Gras, 2003. I spent the day writing and working on my book proposal. I finished up the sections for the synopsis, the enhancements, the promotional ideas, the marketing analysis, my bio and the chapter outlines has a rough start. I still haven't come up with a final title for the book and so I went back to my journal and read through the first 2000 miles of the journey.

I've found that when I go back and read things I've written, it's as if I'm reading something written by someone else. I vaguely remember going through much of what I went through during my two month ride across America, but for the most part I think my brain has opted to deny a lot of the pain and agony I went through as if it the adventure were a traumatic experience that can only come out during hypnosis. After plowing through a day of writing, I went to LoLo's apartment for dinner and a wonderful evening of doing nothing but watching Friends and Seinfeld re-runs: "They're real....and they're SPECTACULAR"...

Around 9:30 it was time to walk home. As I groggily stepped onto the street and turned left, I noticed a well-dressed couple, then another and another. I wondered why these people were out and about and then I saw someone with a couple strands of colorful beads around their neck...AHA!!! MARDI GRAS!!!

Somewhere in Rio de Jeneiro my friend Weegie and some others were celebrating Carnival all-out. I had planned on going for a couple of months but cash-wise and travel-wise I was low on fundage and energy to make the journey with them. I continued walking home as a happy and more than normally perky AxL sniffed every sniffable item along the way. Tomorrow I will turn 38...and I'm finding that my life has become a quiet thing of middle-age. I guess that's what happens.

I'm not in Rio screaming in drunken oblivion. Nope I'm walking through silent San Francisco streets past empty bars at 9:45 p.m. on what I always considered a fairly large holiday. I grin to myself as I think back about Mardi Gras two years ago in Pioneer Square. I was in my loft, just doing lots of nothing in particular when I started to notice yelling and activity from the streets 70 feet below me. "What the....??? OH! MARDI GRAS!!!!" I spent the next several hours looking down on the party-goers filling the streets, running over hoods of cars, peeing on dumpsters, throwing beads and acting as stupid as only Americans bombed out of their gourds can act. Then the real fun began...

Pioneer square was packed beyond capacity and gunshots rang out as some idiot of a youth ran away from the crowd while firing a handgun back into it. An army of Police in riot gear lined themselves up along the southern wall of my building as their commanding officer prepped them for going into the crowd around 1 a.m. A small tank rolled up the street ahead of a line of officers on horseback. As I watched the spectacle, I wondered what on earth it is about us that causes us to celebrate in a manner that evolves into violence of this sort.

Eventually, I heard glass breaking as store fronts were vandalized. More gun shots sounded off as people screamed and ran then slowly turned around and reassembled into a thriving mass. The Police needed to disperse the crowd before some idiot decided to set fire to something which could be disastrous with a crowd that large amid tinderbox buildings that old. The tank made the first move as loudspeakers told the crowd to disperse and go home. More gunshots went off and the army below me began marching into action up Yesler toward First.

The tank fired off a few flying volleys of something which turned out to be tear gas. It wafted up and toward my open windows like a thick fog and I choked and teared up a bit as I quickly closed them and resumed watching the melee.

More tear gas, more running, screaming crowds, more loudspeakers, more possible gunshots....eventually, the crowd dispersed and things were quieting down around 3 a.m. The next morning I believe the death toll was at 2 and the injuries were numerous. People had taken it upon themselves to beat each other to death before the police stepped in and the mayor had his hands full explaining things. The police can never win. It's so unfair in my book. If they don't step in soon enough they get blamed, if they step in too soon to save us from idiotic selves, we hate them for being party-poopers. It's a tough, thankless job that is criticized from every angle. Rarely are police commended for everything they do right in terms of keeping us safe from each other.

But the party wasn't over yet, a few hours later a rather large earthquake rattled the city to it's foundations and scared the hell out of most people. It was big and it was long-lasting and somehow, no one was seriously hurt. Had the quake happened a few hours earlier during the Mardi Gras celebration, hundreds would've been trampled by the fleeing crowds or crushed by the thousands of pounds of bricks which fell of buildings throughout Pioneer Square. Luckily, only a few cars were crushed this time.

Yes, I'm a long way from that really, really FAT Tuesday of two years ago. On the one hand, I feel too mellow, too old, too boring but on the other, I feel relaxed, at ease and at peace as war looms over the planet from all angles. I'm not choking on tear gas or watching people shoot each other or being rattled in an earthquake. Tonight is so quiet as I walk along I could hear skim milk being poured into glasses all through my neighborhood.

Across the world, a terrorist's bomb killed 21 in a Philippinnes airport and I thank God I wasn't there. Sometimes you gotta cut the fat out of your diet to stay healthy...and alive. I arrive at my door, step inside, hang up my keys and the dog leash and open the fridge. There's a plain vanilla, non-fat yogurt with my name on it. Aaah, it's the perfect way to celebrate the end of a quiet, plain vanilla, Non-Fat Tuesday and my last day of being 37. Life won't always be this relaxing or easy but for now, it's a welcome change of pace and I slowly cherish every spoonful before falling asleep, safe and sound...and a little bit older and hopefully wiser.

Last night, LoLo treated me to the Macy Gray concert at The Fillmore Theater on Geary Street in San Francisco. Wow...that's about all I can say. Well, I guess I'll say a bit more. We started the night by grabbing some Lon Song chicken and Pad Thai at the Thai Stick Restaurant. Then we dropped off AxL the dog at LoLo's apartment and we meandered down to The Fillmore. After being checked for pepper spray and knives by the door staff, we went inside and I was in awe.

The walls were covered with incredible photos of most every great act imaginable....Jefferson Airplane, Clapton, Janis Joplin, on and on and on...it was like walking through a museum of rock as we spent the next two hours drinking Budweiser and looking at the walls while waiting for Macy to arrive.

I liked her style...she was well over an hour late. When I become a rockstar, I'm doing the same thing. Not by choice mind you, but I'm sure that circumstances will dictate it.

Macy brought the house down. She now ranks as my number 3 favorite concert of all time, just below Billy Idol at The Pier in Seattle, '02 and Britney Spears (L.A. '00 and Tacoma '02). Macy sang and wowed the crowd with all the greats from her 3 cd's...not only that, but she added a bit to each one so that you weren't getting just the tracks...you got a little extra love. She played the audience like a butter covered violin. (Yes, that's an original saying by me that can only describe Macy Gray.) Her band was awesome and entertaining as well. The highlight of the night was when she asked all the sexy people in the crowd to take off some clothing and shirts, etc. began flying onstage. During that song, Macy herself bared some flesh when she dropped her pants for the crowd while giving the "kiss my assets" hand signal...yes, she WAS wearing underwear...(hot pink)

Her uber-cool style went head to foot from her bigmessysexyhair to her simple yet perfect outfits to her bug-eye glasses and sensibly stylish heels. And you just gotta love her voice...wow...no one can sound like Macy Gray EXCEPT Macy Gray. The night was short even when the group performed a long encore set dressed in matching blue adidas sweats. When the show ended, it was late, we had had a few too many beers, we were filled with great music all night and it was time to "walk away and stumble" home.

It's time to brag a little bit. Not that I don't do enough of that already but when you have a weekend like I just had, you really can't help it. I would like to point out one thing, though...there IS a difference between bragging about when you think you've done great and bragging when luck has smiled upon you. In my case, this bragging is the lucky kind.

I was notified recently by my girlfriend, LoLo that this was going to be my birthday weekend and since she believes in having adventures instead of giving gifts, I was going to get an adventure. Not only that, but since she really, really needed a small vacation getaway, this would be a relaxing adventure. She assured me the entire time that it really was my birthday weekend we were dealing with.

I'll skip all the details of planning and scheming becuase that was her doing anyway. I'll just pick it all up with how the actual event went down. I picked up LoLo from work late Friday night with the car all packed and ready for a relaxing weekend in Carmel. Being from Seattle, I took the time to pack twice as much as I needed: one pile of stuff for the weekend and one pile of stuff for a rainyweekend. Turns out I didn't need to bother with the rainy weekend stuff.

We drove for about two and a half hours to the Carmel Valley Lodge which is petfriendly or at least dog friendly. We arrived around 11 p.m. and as we walked through the door, a bottle of champagne on ice with a card saying "Happy Birthday!" welcomed us to a quaint little room with a fireplace that only needed lighting to begin the relaxation process. I love the fact that I'm dating someone who thinks enough of me to take care of the little details like arriving to a bottle of bubbly on ice.

A couple of glasses of champagne next to the fire in our pajamas seemed to melt away a long week for both of us. Sleep found me quickly and so did the nasty snoring I seem to have picked up in my old age. Despite my loudness, we both slept well and woke up early to tackle a relaxing day. Breakfast is included in the room and we sat outside at a quaint table with AxL the dog as we devoured french toast, fruit and coffee while we discussed the day. Well-behaved dogs eyed AxL jealously as their owners opted to sit inside to eat.

After breakfast, a quick trip to the reception desk provided us with nearby activities, maps and a movie for the evening: "Roman Holiday" starring Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck. After loading up on brochures for everything from Whale Watching to Wine Tasting, we jumped into Sarge (my trusty army-green, '92 Pathfinder) and headed to Garland Park for a hike. We hiked the "Lupine Trail" much to the delight of a disbelieving AxL who was dumbfounded by all the smells of a new place. The sun was out and we snapped pictures left and right of green fields and gorgeous valleys in the foothills.

After the hike, we drove into Carmel-By-The-Sea and got coffee and sandwiches for the beach. The beach was a tad chilly for sunbathing but it was perfect for pictures and strolling along the waves toward Pebble Beach.

Two hours later with our shoes full of sand, it was time for tennis at the local high school courts we had passed on our way in. Neither one of us had played for years so there was more ball-fetching than actual volleying but the point was, we played tennis!

AxL snoozed away in the car during the not-so-amazing tennis game but he woke up as we drove off toward the Lodge once again. He delighted in sticking his head out the window to take in the fresh Northern California air which is constantly updated by the brisk winds coming off the ocean nearby.

Back at the Lodge, we donned our swimsuits and set out for the pool, leftover champagne in hand. The pool felt a dash chilly so we opted for the bubbling spa with glasses of more bubbly until LoLo dared me to jump into the pool. If there's one thing I can't resist it's someone saying, "you could check it off your list that you jumped from a hot tub into a cold pool before you were 38!" Thirty seconds later I was in full-banzai mode flying through the air before splash down.

Fully invigorated and relaxed, we were now famished. LoLo showered while I hit up the reception desk for more info on dining. With all of my research, we opted to simply grab a pizza locally and take it back to our room so we could enjoy the movie while eating. We're still not sure why we ordered take-out pizza from a Thai place instead of Thai food, but it was edible despite one pizza having four times too much cheese while the Thai Pizza had none.

"Roman Holiday" turned out to be a great little film leaving me to wonder why someone doesn't make a film with the same innocence and overacting in this day and age. Two Bud Lights, too much pizza and two hours by the fire later and we were ready to pass out after a wild saturday night. But first, it was "S'mores Time" since the Lodge supplies each room with a s'mores package complete with skewers, marshmallows, graham crackers and Hershey's chocolate. As we ate s'mores and I fought to keep from passing out, LoLo took advantage of an earlier statement I made about hating sleep by snidely making fun of me me every time I nodded off.

Sunday started at 4:55 a.m. when AxL, aka "Stinky Breth" panted in my face to go outside. I let him out, visited my own bathroom and then went to retrieve what now seemed to be a missing dog. "Ug." I put on shoes, a jacket and hat and trudged out into the dark of the morning while whisper-yelling his name..."AaaaaaxLLLLLL!" Nothing.

I gave up and came back inside to get a headlamp so I could see where the heck I was walking. I went back out into the cold long enough to start shivering before a happy pooch came trotting up to me from a different door of the lodge.

We went back inside and slept a couple more hours despite the fact that I hated sleeping. Then we got up and gorged on breakfast yet again before going for another short hike, followed by another short stint on the beach.

Now it was 17-Mile Drive time. There is a drive into and around Pebble Beach where you pay $8 at the gate for the privelege of driving through amazing forests of pine and cypress, along golf courses extraordinaire and past homes of grand opulence and uncanny square footage. We stopped at each point along the way to take photos and enjoy the spectacular vistas.

Lunch was absconded at a nearby deli and transported to a secluded picnic table at one of the many beaches along the drive. After eating, we mosied along the winding road in awe of the crashing waves of the Pacific and the gorgeous greens of the golf courses. Around 2 p.m., we traipsed inland to the Pebble Beach Equestrian Center where our unmotivated by compliant horses were awaiting our bodies complete with added pounds from junk food devoured.

I hopped on board "Reno" while LoLo sprang into the saddle of "Prit." Our guide, Denae, was young, bubbly and a joy to follow along. We had considered paying the extra fee for a private ride but it turned out we were the only two on our time slot which freed up some funds for more junk food later on.

The ride was simply amazing if you write off your sore buns and the somewhat slow pace. It's not every day that you get to ride a gentle horse through stoic pines, along perfectly groomed fairways and impressive Pacific coastal landscapes. My mind jumped back and forth between, "Woohoo! I'm on a horse again!" to "WOW!!! LOOK AT THAT VIEW!!! OH WAIT, I'M ON A HORSE AGAIN!!!! BUT THE VIEW.....!!!!!" (repeat for an hour and half).

After the ride, we our bowed legs hobbled back to Sarge and the sleeping dog. Then we took off for the last few stops along the 17-Mile Drive. We took the time to read about each point and admire the insanely large houses. We even picked out which one we would buy once we were famous instead of so good looking, (I love to borrow that line my grandma taught me so long ago.)

After the 17-mile drive gave up its last mile and vista, we roared off at 25 mph to the Pacific Grove Monarch Sanctuary which I've wanted to see ever since it was highlighted in Ranger Rick magazine in the early '70's. It was ridiculously difficult to find from the maps in the brochures but persistence paid off and we discovered it. We were a bit late in the day and late in the migration game and only saw a few of the incredible butterflies that make a trek from as far away as Alaska and Northern Canada to come to this spot each year.

During our own trek, we discovered a small herd of about six inquisitive deer that were both frightened of and intrigued by AxL. In retrospect, AxL probably shouldn't have been in the sanctuary but being a well-behaved and debonair dog, he didn't tinkle or bark during the entire field trip. The deer posed for some pictures and as we left, they sneakily (is that a word?) followed us to the entrance. As we turned to look one last time, they shyly darted off again as fear overcame their curiosity.

The sun was setting and, being an enormous fan of enormous sunsets, we drove down to a point that offered a great view of the western sky. We parked next to an RV complete with three grouchy cats that wanted to look and scowl at AxL as much as possible while staying within the protective shield of a very old and somewhat rusty RV that had every imaginable clutter practically spilling out of its doorway.

The sun set and the night cooled so we shivered back into Sarge to go in search of dinner, aka Fast Food. Jack In The Box eventually reared it's bulbous smiling head and $15 later, we drove off delighted to find two unordered but very welcomed tacos in the bag along with the rest of our fat-filled items. LoLo rested her eyes that had victoriously done battle all afternoon with allergies as I drove through the darkenss toward home.

I dropped off LoLo and thanked her as best I could despite falling asleep on my feet. I then drove back to 3167A Sacramento St. and carried myself, two weekends worth of stuff and the remnants of junkfood into a cozy apartment as AxL lazily followed. He pushed past me and went straight for his bed where he flopped down and began snoring right away, bless his tired little heart. I took his cue and curled up next to him with my pillow and began dreaming away of crashing waves, flying tennis balls, slow horses, sunsets and butterflies soaring overhead...the kind of dreams that lucky men dream after living out what weekends were meant to be.

"File". It's a nasty word, isn't it? Especially in the plural form. If you're like me, the words "file," "files," and "filing" can send a pang of angst through your stomach.

"Mr. Kurttila, we've got a file on you four inches, thick." or, "Mr. Kurttila, you're going to have to file this with our office then file another copy with the other office and then keep a copy for your files." OR..."Mr. Kurttila, please go through your files and fill out the attached forms for our files because during our filing process we lost your file."

I wish I could file a protest against filing but it would probably just end up in the X-files somehow and then I'd be sitting here sipping coffee while Mulder and Scully pilfered through my file cabinets with small flashlights and low, hushed questions while ominous music played in the background.

Okay, okay so it's maybe not all that bad, but it sure feels like it when you're in the middle of it. I spent the better, or worse, depending on how you look at it, part of Friday going through my files...personal files, business files, files of files in filing cabinets and filing boxes. Sometimes I feel like I have more files than the FBI. It all comes from hating files so much. Okay, "hate" is a strong word, but I'm going to use it in reference to files because I hate all things filing. I hate filing so much that avoid it by just jamming stuff into file folders which I then jam into file cabinets and file boxes so that I can go back and unjam them then rejam them to eventually, years later, file them properly. It's a self-fulfilling/self-defeating prophecy. I end up with 100x more files than I would have if I actually liked filing in the least. Worse, one of my good friends incessantly makes fun of me because I'm always complaining that I'm filing yet I never seem to get anywhere.

Yea, I've read books on getting organized, I've read books on filing and everything else. I think I stopped reading after the introduction and filed the books somewhere. But deadlines, and I do mean "DEAD"lines arrived and I had to take the proverbial plunge on Friday. It wasn't so bad once I got started. I found I had four files for one credit card and it's statements. I found I had six files for the same bank account and I had eight files for jobs dating back to 1993. Hhhm....off to the bin! Before I knew it, I had a milk crate full of "Files To Toss!" oh yea...now that feels better.

I kept rolling. I combined every travel miles file into one thin file from the ten previous files dating back to 1985. (It's been awhile since I'd gone through those.) I found checks that had been written to me that I hadn't cashed, almost $1200 worth. Not bad for a day's work. Maybe I could make a living at this??? I updated my address innumerous times as I mailed off check after check for business taxes, business fees, franchise fees, state tax fees, permit fees and doctor bills that insurance didn't cover.

When I simply ran out of time for the day, I had tossed out four milk crates and two large garbage cans full of files and I had shredded another three reams of documents with sensitive information on them, no longer needed but lacking the need to be shared with the recycling plant. It felt good, really good. I had taken seven file cabinet drawers and two enormous filing boxes down to just four file cabinet drawers in about 10 hours. I had about fifteen letters, bills, permit forms and checks to depost in my papercut fingers, ready to head out the door for processing. It was time to look for the lesson in all of this, the THING to write about here in my journal. I think the lesson is that no matter how long you put things off, they simply don't go away. No matter who or where you are, you can't escape the "maintenance" part of life. Sure, you can get rich enough to pay someone to do the grunt work, but most of us are stuck on planet "do it yourself, pal." So here's what I've learned...

Use the four "D's" of filing so that you touch items just once or twice instead of a thousand times. What are they? Delete, Delegate, Defer and Do It. Pick up a piece of paper you have and look at it. Can you delete it? If so, toss it NOW...don't save it no matter how enticing it might be. Trust me, you don't want to pick it up again and again and keep seeing it for the next 15 years as I have.

If you can't delete it, can you delegate it? Is this something you can pawn off on your cpa, your lawyer, your agent, your business partners, your co-workers or your dog? If so, delegate that puppy.

Can't delete or delegate? Ok, next step, can you do it now? If it needs more information or more time than you have "in the now" then "defer it" but defer it smartly. Put it in a file for a specific date and mark it on your calendar. When the time comes, pull it out at the assigned time and finish it off.

A lot of professional organizers teach executives how to arrange their months into weeks and days in a filing system. Make a simple monthly file with a file for each day of the month. Put the items into the specified day and on that day pull them out and take care of them.

Lastly, "do it." If you have something that can be taken care of quickly and now, then just do it now. Get it over with, be done with it and move on, enjoy your day, grab a cup of coffee, go to the beach. It's that easy.

So what do you do if you're years behind and overwhelmed like I was? I added a couple more steps to the process. I added a fifth "d" for "divide and conquer." I quickly went through everything as best I could and decided if it was urgent or not, i.e. permits, etc. with a deadline. Put those in a stack to tackle first. If something can wait, then "defer it" for another time but don't worry about assigning the time just yet. Just divide the urgent from the not so urgent.

I then added a sixth "d" for "daily." I set aside time in my daily Monday through Friday to go through the old stuff for around an hour. I set a timer and raced the clock to make it more fun. It's amazing how much faster I move when I play this little game.

Next, I added the seventh "d" for "dominate." I stay ahead of the game by dominating the little daily stuff. Everything that comes in the mail, etc. can be sorted and filed according to the four D's in the time it takes me to walk from my mailbox to your desk, maybe a few minutes longer. Dominating is crucial to staying on top of the game and keeping my time freed up for better activities than filing, (which I hate!)

Lastly, I added an eight "d" for "D-con" which is an analogy for keeping old pests out of my files. If I file something, I take an extra minute to see what else is in the file and toss it or put it into a date folder if need be. This keeps files current, clean and in process as need be without missing deadlines or letting the old rats pile up in there. I found that I kept filing mileage statements each month all the way back to 1985 but all I really needed was the current statement.

Oh, and here's a quick note on the tricky stuff like records for taxes, etc. I had saved EVERY and I do mean EVERY business transaction going all the way back to 1993. Now don't quote me on this and then figure out a way to sue me later, but, my CPA told me that I only need a record of these transactions and copies of my tax returns. In other words, Quickbooks or Quicken records are good enough and I didn't need the actual receipts beyond last years records. This may or not be the case for you so check first, but if it is the case, start tossing business expense lunch receipts from 1994.

I should also mention a couple of good resources at this point beyond your CPA. I recommend the book, "Organizing Your Life From The Inside Out," by Julie Morgenstern as a good book on how to organize your entire household, etc. She also wrote a book on organizing your schedule called, "Time Management From The Inside Out."

Additionally, I use a website called, "Yodlee.com" which lets me put all of my stuff like credit cards, online accounts, travel miles, bank accounts, and anything I do online with a password into one place in an organized manner. I can then login, pay online or check balances on anything from Air Miles to IRA's. Some people don't like the idea of having everything in one place online but for me the risk is worth the time I save looking up passwords and trying to bookmark a multitude of URL's constantly. The downside is they aren't "connected" to every available online option you may have but keeping the bulk of my stuff organized through Yodlee has saved me countless hours, especially since I can just spend five minutes on the first day of each month paying every bill from my phone to my credit card with just a few clicks. I've been using the service for about three years now and have never had a problem with security to date.

Anything else??? Yea, feel free to apply the basics to other stuff in your life because the little formula does wonders. I wanted to learn to play guitar...so I set aside time each day for 20 minutes in my calendar to practice the one chord I knew. Until I broke a string. Then I set aside 15 minutes for next Tuesday to go and buy new strings and I set aside another 30 minutes Tuesday afternoon for restringing said guitar. This keeps me from losing sight of my goals until I find that another four years have gone by and I haven't learned that second chord yet because I still have a broken guitar string on a dusty Fender Stratocaster.

Okay, so now you've taken the time to read this blather and maybe it helped a bit. Then again, maybe you're already a person with picture perfect life organization so in this case, you can simply delete this file from your brain.

Today I took some time to just sit and think. I tend to think a lot. In fact, too much according to some of my friends.

"Don't think about it so much!!!"

"Dude, you can't think about that!"

"Stop thinking about it and just do it, will you?"

Their words of "get off your butt and stop analyzing things" ring clearly through my day dreaming ears. On the other mind, (I know it's not a real saying, but it's MY saying) I feel that thinking can be a good thing. A long time ago, I came to the realization that no time is wasted time if you take the time to sit and think. I never go anywhere without a brain full of things to think about. If I find myself stuck in traffic, walking the dog with a poop bag in hand while looking for a trash can or standing in line at the bank, I'm thinking.

About what, exactly? A multitude of things. I write out movie plots, I picture what it's like at the top of Everest, I think of certain turning points in life and I think about what it will be like to cross the Pacific for the first time on a sailboat and pull into a harbor to drop anchor after a long crossing. I think about the upcoming marathon I'm going to run and I think about what my book about cycling across America should be all about. I think about friends and how they're doing and I think about new product ideas. Sometimes, I feel like there's an entire "think tank" in my head full of different offices, each with its own agenda, all toiling away at once in a cacophony of cathartic creations.

Perhaps I border on insanity. Here and there, I pass homeless people on the street who are having conversations with several unseen individuals at once. Yea, I can relate. I often feel the same way, only I'm silent as I go about my inner conversations with all the others inside my thoughts. It's nuts, but I think that all of us are possibly just one step away from the insanity, or so called insanity, that possesses the people yelling at ghosts on the street to leave them alone. Perhaps I'm just one beer away from killing the one brain cell that separates me from the same crazy fate. The movie, "A Beautiful Mind" really makes me see the world in a different light in terms of the fragility of the brain. Here's the gray lump with little chemicals and sparks of electricity running through it, yet it does so much, so incredibly much that the brain itself can't even conceive of all that it does on a daily basis from keeping our hearts beating to keeping us breathing while we sleep.

I once read an article on artificial intelligence and why it's nearly impossible. Even the simple act of flipping a lightswitch takes thousands of calculations and abstractions and precise muscle contractions which are all accomplished with barely a thought by this play-doh sitting under our scalps.

But the really incredible part about the human brain is its ability to dream. Have you ever stopped to think about that? The brain, when left to itself can dream of things that are not real. Every business in the history of the world was started in the mind of one person...and then that dream became a reality. Every invention, every work of art, every bit of music, every skyscraper, every book...most every everything...all came from the mind of one person.

We'll leave God and earth and the universe out of this for now because that's a ginormous step up the thinking ladder from where we are presently. I'll just leave you with this: in all of creation's history, you are the only YOU to exist. Yea, heavy, huh? And your thoughts are all you as well. Totally, entirely and utterly unique, one of a kind, nonimitative.

I took the time to look up "originality" in the Thesauraus and found these great words listed: creativeness, inventiveness, ingenuity, freshness, noncomformity, newness, modernity, individuality, brilliance, intellectual...

Whoa...I kind of like those words, especially since I don't really consider myself all of those things, heckk yea! That's each and every one of us!!! We are ALL originals here, people...so, what the heck...go and find yourself a nice, big, gnarly, nasty traffic jam and think about it.

I had the opportunity to step back in time when I visited Stanford campus last Wednesday. I spent the summer of '88 there taking course because you see, they let ANYONE take summer courses. The summer of '88 was my first time "out of the house" so to speak. I was 23, done with skating for the time being and it was time to go to college. I didn't get into Stanford as a regular student so I decided to do the next best thing and just attend as a "visitor."

As I walked through the enormous campus at night, it felt so much larger than I remembered but so wonderfully familiar. The reason it felt larger was because I was on foot instead of on my mountain bike that I rode incessantly when I attended. Aaah...that was quite the year. I met a great friend, Ralph Stading and we laughed and played golf practically every afternoon before we laughed some more. I made incredible friends in the short months I was there...Heather Wood, John Maurice, Lyn Yin, Yvonne Nanep, Patrick, Sean, etc. etc. etc. I wondered what had happened to all of them over the past 15 years. Seeing as Ralph's family owns a golf course near Woodland, WA, I figured he was the most likely person I could try and catch up with.

I dialed 411 on my cell and asked for his listing. I was connected and there was his voice on the other end of the line. Once we got done laughing and catching up, I sat back down on a bench with AxL at my feet and began to wonder what I've done with my life. So much time seems to have passed yet, as I continually find, I'm nowhere near where I pictured I'd be at this age. I feel as if I got sidetracked into chasing the almight dollar instead of following my dreams and my passions along. I have no regrets, none at all, but I have very few achievements either. At least I feel as if I've gotten the ball rolling finally and am somewhat on a course by design now instead of a course of whim and circumstance.

It began to rain and it was time to head home. I walked back to the waiting car, past Memorial Church where I would go every day and pray for the health of my grandmother, past the gym where I worked out just as religiously, past the oval where I dreamed I would someday return for an MBA. Not much remains of my Stanford summer. The Chevy Suburban we drove to Santa Cruz and the bowling alley is long gone. My class notes are recycled. My friends are for the most part, long out of touch and on with their lives. I can't even ride a bike with no hands like a pro as I did in those days. I think the only thing that remains is an enthusiasm for life and the pursuit of happiness.

I smile to myself as I wonder about going back and trying for that MBA because life is about doing everything you dream of. I always blamed "no need" for one on the reason I never tried but I think in fact it came down to fear of being rejected yet again. Perhaps I'll take the GMAT and apply and just see what happens, who knows. However, my life is 180 degrees from being a businessman at this point but wow, how I would simply love to attend classes again and learn at the place I called "Eden For The Mind."

Time to drive home and sleep and dream of playing golf in bare feet or at midnight with glow in the dark golf balls again. Life doesn't always follow the path we think it will, nor do we always get what we want. And that's okay, it really is, because sometimes it's enough to just taste a bit of a dream and then go back 15 years later and walk through that taste again. It's like sampling from the dessert tray, I guess. We can't always go back to what we were and "do it all over" again, but we can go forward and now and then revisit the good places for a spell. When it comes down to it, I don't have the time or the money or the overwhelming desire to go back for that MBA. As I've grown older and learned more and done more I realize that I'd rather nibble a lot of different things than gorge on one. So, with mountains to climb, oceans to cross and books to write, I fall into slumber as the sweet smell of eucalyptus stays with me from this evening. The memories we do take the time to create always stay with us and if you take the time to do it right, that can be just as wonderful as any diploma in a frame on the wall.