<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318</id><updated>2011-08-02T02:24:42.666+02:00</updated><category term='Lily Dancing'/><category term='Opinion'/><title type='text'>The Expatriate Yankee Fan</title><subtitle type='html'>Writings, Musings &amp;amp; Other Tales From A Roving Yankee Fan</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>72</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-8117993775985585525</id><published>2010-05-14T17:16:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2010-05-14T17:16:47.660+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep &amp; simple is far more essential than shallow &amp; complex</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-8117993775985585525?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8117993775985585525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8117993775985585525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2010/05/deep-simple-is-far-more-essential-than.html' title='Deep &amp; simple is far more essential than shallow &amp; complex'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-3565682051939538248</id><published>2009-06-05T11:12:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-06-05T11:12:46.368+02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Dancing is not forbidden, wiggling might be unavoidable"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-3565682051939538248?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3565682051939538248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3565682051939538248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2009/06/dancing-is-not-forbidden-wiggling-might.html' title='&quot;Dancing is not forbidden, wiggling might be unavoidable&quot;'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-4305192838996579556</id><published>2009-01-24T23:06:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T23:06:38.130+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Loss of Cool… and Good Riddence</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This is the first but probably not the last piece I will write on the topic of coolness and how it is or has been a bane of my existence.&amp;#160; I hope it proves to be helpful or at least somewhat funny.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SXuQ7DL-m_I/AAAAAAAACMk/_dAEY8vr_ow/s1600-h/calvin_and_hobbes-sombrero%5B2%5D.png"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="calvin_and_hobbes-sombrero" border="0" alt="calvin_and_hobbes-sombrero" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SXuQ7W5VneI/AAAAAAAACMo/pqh5rQjbGSg/calvin_and_hobbes-sombrero_thumb.png?imgmax=800" width="155" height="194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Losing your cool… Man, I cannot tell you how much fun, happiness, pure joy and exhilaration I missed out on because of the fear of not being cool. There was something about my generation… who grew up on the Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller, etc… The music my friends and I listened to… U2, the Cult, the Clash… bands which if they didn’t look solemn, well then they simply did not interest us. Anyone who looked like they were having fun was not cool.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Being cool sucks. A cool person sucks all of happiness out of a room. Why? Because cool people hate everything. Cool people love a band until everyone else gets into them (which is a natural process especially if the band plays good music)… then the cool person deems the band in question as having sold out. Cool people, do not express visible emotion because a cool person remains stoic.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I was reminded of this when recently I got back in touch with someone who was my best friend back in high school. We did this lip-sync performance of a Bruce Willis song (Youngblood – if you must know… shut-up) where he (playing the cool guy) and I (playing a nerd) sing about women we could not have. At the time, when I had other friends actually playing music, I began to freak out that what I was doing was not cool… Now, I wish I could have gone back in time and told myself to lighten up and have a blast with it. In fact, I did have a blast with it, but I was also worried still about not doing the cool thing. But looking back now, the idea of lip-syncing a Bruce Willis song is actually pretty hilarious on several different levels. And my friend and I got up and did something amazingly not cool for that time period… and I think that makes up pretty cool in fact. Not that I want to be cool anymore… I’m just saying… &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But there is a cure for this… having a little baby girl. There is nothing you will not do for your little baby girl. If this means walking down the street carrying a My Little Pony Pink knapsack, then you do it. I cannot tell you how many times I have been complimented on “my” Tinkerbell bag when I have completely forgotten I had it on. These sort of things happen when you become a dad. And only lame fathers would not do this, especially when it’s for your little girl.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;And losing my cool is actually a relief to me. Now some of my reader(s) may want to inform me of the misconception I was ever cool. It is not my attempt in writing today, to state/affirm I was ever cool… but I was TRYING to be cool. And it was in the act of attempting to be cool that made me miss out on a lot of fun.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So now, it is my mission, to do what is fun and exciting, and with a sense of attaining pure joy. When people see me performing some action, I want them to know at least I am having a blast. It was Calvin and Hobbes who on more then one occasion have pointed out the futility in attempting to be cool.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;H : &amp;quot;What are you doing?&amp;quot; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;C : &amp;quot;Being cool.&amp;quot; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;H : &amp;quot;You look more like you're bored.&amp;quot; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;C : &amp;quot;The world bores you when you're cool.&amp;quot;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Maybe this is all a part of getting older, I don’t know, but letting go of cool is a beautiful thing.&amp;#160; And if I have lost some “cool points” in your books… then what I am doing is working.&amp;#160; :)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-4305192838996579556?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/4305192838996579556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/4305192838996579556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2009/01/loss-of-cool-and-good-riddence.html' title='The Loss of Cool… and Good Riddence'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SXuQ7W5VneI/AAAAAAAACMo/pqh5rQjbGSg/s72-c/calvin_and_hobbes-sombrero_thumb.png?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-7282300738353373831</id><published>2009-01-24T22:22:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T22:22:01.248+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Variations on a Lily Theme</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;So while Bunny and I were under the impression that we had a two and a quarter year’s old little girl, we in fact have a puppy. Now my reader(s), know(s) that I already have a dog (see the previous entry) but in fact I evidently have two.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;For the past few weeks, instead of receiving a kiss, Minna and I now receive licks. In the morning, when I pick Lily up out of her crib, along with a hug, I will get a large lick across my cheek and if I am particularly lucky, I will get another across the other cheek. In addition, if you ask Lily to bring you something, more often then not, she will place said item in her mouth and “carry” it to you.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;This has been a fun addition to our little family, but also just as interesting is when we are getting Lily ready for bed. Normally, we make dinner for Lily, brush her teeth and get her in her jammies and ready to be carried upstairs to her crib.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I have to interrupt this tale, to give you a little background information. One of the many DVDs we have for Lily that we watch on a regular basis is called Baby Babble. Among other things, it teaches simple sign language to your child… Things like, “I’m hungry”, “I’m thirsty”, “More”, “Please”, “Thank you”, etc. Well Lily’s gotten most of these down (except she’s never motivated to perform the “thank you” motion.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;But lately, when we get her ready for bed, and Lily realizes the next step is me taking her to her bedroom, Lily now frantically makes the motion stating she’s hungry. Now Lily KNOWS we would not let her go to bed starving, so this means we make attempts to feed her, even though we are 90% sure (if not 100) she’s not hungry. Now, this may sound like the wrong move to take, but my reader(s) need to understand one thing about Lily. She can’t eat when she’s not hungry. She doesn’t eat when she’s not hungry. Lily could be eating the most awesome dessert ever created but when she gets her fill, she stops eating (this is an amazing course of action she follows that one of these days, I will need to try to emulate). Now, Lily knows if she doesn’t eat, she is going to be taken to bed, so she takes whatever food we have given her, and begins to fake eat it. She places the piece of apple about an inch from her mouth and makes chewing motions (and she thinks she’s fooling us). Once she took a piece of cheese and took such small bites I needed my glasses to see the nibble marks. Even when I take her upstairs and am about to put her down in her crib, she will always make one last desperate plea of hunger. The fact that Mommy and Daddy have not “fallen” for this move has not dampened Lily’s hopes that one night it will succeed.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SXuGd9TZJkI/AAAAAAAACMc/CjVLRyCwdRA/s1600-h/Lily%20%26%20Daddy%20On%20The%20Bus%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="Lily &amp;amp; Daddy On The Bus" border="0" alt="Lily &amp;amp; Daddy On The Bus" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SXuGeBKamXI/AAAAAAAACMg/1P0qdqyisEM/Lily%20%26%20Daddy%20On%20The%20Bus_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-7282300738353373831?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7282300738353373831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7282300738353373831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2009/01/variations-on-lily-theme.html' title='Variations on a Lily Theme'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SXuGeBKamXI/AAAAAAAACMg/1P0qdqyisEM/s72-c/Lily%20%26%20Daddy%20On%20The%20Bus_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-9106040265360131130</id><published>2009-01-24T21:56:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T21:56:00.463+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Buffy’s Leap</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SXuAXpRYVEI/AAAAAAAACMU/7mlgG4UTtWg/s1600-h/A%20Bunny%20%26%20A%20Buffy%5B2%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="A Bunny &amp;amp; A Buffy" border="0" alt="A Bunny &amp;amp; A Buffy" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SXuAX16f3uI/AAAAAAAACMY/jkuuPMijLVg/A%20Bunny%20%26%20A%20Buffy_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p align="left"&gt;Buffy is our Pomeranian. She’s almost 5 years old now and we basically consider her our second daughter (first as she technically was here before Lily). Before Lily, and after, we have taken Buffy practically everywhere we have gone. I can count the number of times we have not taken Buffy somewhere with us on one hand. However, I will go into the complete biography of Buffy another time. Today, I just wanted to write about the day she attempted to save Bunny’s life.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;It was an early gray morning, and Minna was lying in the kiddie pool. Actually, Minna was birthing Lily in the kiddie pool. For the previous two days, Minna had been in labor. Oddly, during those two days, Buffy pretty much avoided Minna. It was as if Buffy was following some “code” in which she was letting Minna do her thing on her own, and she didn’t want to get in the way. So for two days, Buffy wouldn’t go near Bunny. That was, until Minna got into the kiddie pool. It was going on 9 in the morning, and already exhausted, and becoming desperate, Bunny asked me to fill the pool so she could try and get the baby out of her. As a man during these times, you pretty much can feel useless as you watch your wife go through a tremendous amount of pain and suffering and there’s not a whole lot you can do but offer support and encouragement (and cry in my case). So I was overjoyed to have some sort of project to do that would help. I filled the pool as quick as I could and the mid-wife and I got Minna into the tub. Well soon after that, Minna was able to get into full birthing mode which meant a LOT of screaming and yelling and screeching. It bought a few of our neighbours to right outside our fence, to check and make sure everything was all right. “Yes, we’re having a baby.” I would reply. “Wonderful, good luck!” they would respond as if I had told them we were having a barbecue. Well this also bought Buffy back into our realm. She had heard “Mommy” crying and became desperate to help. She came outside, saw Bunny in the pool and went running to jump in. Now I must pause here to tell you that this was not an insignificant course of action on Buffy’s part, because Buffy HATES water. HATES water! She only drinks it and wants nothing else to do with it. But in this case, she was putting her feelings and interests aside and she was going to rescue her “mommy” from whatever trouble she was having. So Buffy lounged towards the pool and took a running jump… and ricochets right off the inflatable pool and falls back two or three feet. At that point, she starts clawing and jumping at the sides of the pool trying in vain to reach Bunny. The mid-wife and I laugh and I try to get Buffy to understand that while “Mommy’s” yelling, she’s going to be ok. And a few pushes and screams later, Mommy was ok, and so was Buffy’s new sister, Lily. Later, while Mommy held Lily on the couch, Buffy could be found licking/cleaning off the new “puppy” in our family.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-9106040265360131130?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/9106040265360131130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/9106040265360131130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2009/01/buffys-leap.html' title='Buffy’s Leap'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SXuAX16f3uI/AAAAAAAACMY/jkuuPMijLVg/s72-c/A%20Bunny%20%26%20A%20Buffy_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-6872051000278330862</id><published>2009-01-20T08:49:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T09:09:56.349+01:00</updated><title type='text'>When You Want to Know Who You Can Trust... Watch the children</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SXWCp7j7H1I/AAAAAAAACI0/E-1nwVyu6po/s1600-h/20obama_600.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293280593918500690" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 221px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SXWCp7j7H1I/AAAAAAAACI0/E-1nwVyu6po/s400/20obama_600.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Saw this photo in the New York Times. With Lily, I have learned to get a good feel for people when I watch her and see how she "warms" up to them... if she warms up to them at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;This past weekend, she fell in love with my friend Michelle's husband, Jose because he immediately possessed this trusting, loving quality about him that Lily immediately vibed to.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Look at this photo, see the expression on the kid's face? I have a good feeling about Obama. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-6872051000278330862?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6872051000278330862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6872051000278330862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2009/01/when-you-want-to-know-who-you-can-trust.html' title='When You Want to Know Who You Can Trust... Watch the children'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SXWCp7j7H1I/AAAAAAAACI0/E-1nwVyu6po/s72-c/20obama_600.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-8181102557362479311</id><published>2009-01-15T22:53:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T22:53:16.269+01:00</updated><title type='text'>What I Purchased &amp; Why: iTunes 2008 Christmas-time</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SW-wSiaP49I/AAAAAAAACIU/uhK5tQMEO_E/s1600-h/kiss%5B3%5D.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; border-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; border-right: 0px" title="kiss" border="0" alt="kiss" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SW-wSzS7c_I/AAAAAAAACIY/hfBgIJGu31A/kiss_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="229" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Kiss wins the 2008 title for artist that missed the cut (last year was Pink)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;At Christmas and my birthday, there is only one gift I want… iTunes. I cannot get enough of them. My wife, Bunny, and mother-in-law, Mom, keep me plenty supplied around these times. Thus, without further ado, I present the 2&lt;sup&gt;nd&lt;/sup&gt; Annual “How I Spent My iTunes At Christmas” the 2008 Edition.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Last year, if you had read you would have found that I made purchases that ranged from Run-DMC (shut-up) to Jah Wobble, Kiss (Ace Frehley’s Solo album), Toots Thielemans, U2’s Greatest Hits, Sundays, Yes, Gary Numan, and OMD.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So this year, I wanted to do it a little bit differently, and add some new categories. While I was hoping my list would be as eclectic as last year’s I now realize they all fit into a similar genre. While making several music purchases, I would also purchase my first iTunes book and film.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Therefore, without further ado, here’s what I purchased and more importantly the thought process that went into it. In no particular order…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;u&gt;Puccini: La Bohème&lt;/u&gt; (with Carlo Bergonzi, Renata Tebaldi, circa 1957): Minna and I were watching Moonstruck, during a trip to see my brother, shortly before Christmas. For the soundtrack, they basically used this entire album and Minna commented several times how wonderful the singers were then, even recognizing Renata by her voice. There are two people who I will purchase opera albums based on their comments alone. Jason Morgan, and my Bunny. This is an awesome recording.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;u&gt;The Dark Knight&lt;/u&gt;: So I decided my first iTunes movie would be a good old Batman movie. According to IMDB, this is already one of the top 10 grossing movies of all time. I liked the first installment. And it was definitely worth it. Good film, and it’s too bad there won’t be a sequel with the Joker.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;u&gt;108 Sacred Names of Mother Divine – Sacred Chants of Devi by Craig Pruess &amp;amp; Ananda&lt;/u&gt;: This is probably my brother John and his wife Jane’s fault. We have gone to England to see them two or three times in recent months and they are pretty new-agey, while maintaining a high sense of coolness. Anyway, this is a meditation album with a pretty cool song call Devi Prayer which runs at a short 21 minutes and 22 seconds.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;u&gt;Afro-harping by Dorothy Ashby&lt;/u&gt;: This probably should win the “How the hell did you find this one, James!?” award… and it’s a long story, that I will try to make short… I love soundtracks from the old blaxploitation movies. Most of the movies are hilarious but the music is FANTASTIC. I love nothing better then the “wackka-chackka” of a guitar. Anyway, in one of my more recent blaxploitation purchases, I found that “other iTunes listeners who purchased that music also purchased “Afro-harping” by Dorothy Ashby. She plays the jazz harp, which I had no idea there was such a thing. And the album is TREMENDOUS! I strongly recommend it for parties and just hanging out and chillin. Lily likes it at bathtime.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;u&gt;Release of an Oath by the Electric Prunes&lt;/u&gt;: Re-read the last paragraph… there’s a musician-producer named David Axelrod who specializes in the exact sound I was referring to. This is a group he participated in doing a religious album in jazz style. Once I listen to it (not from lack of interest, it’s just I have been totally into the Dorothy Ashby album) I will let you know.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;u&gt;I Saw the Light by Hank Williams&lt;/u&gt;: Ok… I love U2… back in the 80s, there was a U2 documentary (called Outside It’s America) and it shows them while touring the Joshua Tree in the deserts of America. Well at a bar after a show, they jam to country songs and one of them is Hank Williams’ the Lost Highway. Well I recently purchased his original version and I fell in love with his sound. I began to get into a religious kick at this point so I found this album and love it. So far I have the jazz and country covered... there will be more… &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;u&gt;Keely Smith &amp;amp; Louis Prima: Wild, Cool &amp;amp; Swingin&lt;/u&gt;: I blame Frac for this one. He got me into swing music and lounge music has a direct connection. Also, Bunny has some blame as she constantly (at my request) sings ballads and songs from that era… my favourite being, Just a Gigolo. Which is one of Louis’ best. Again, great party album and another great bathtime record.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;u&gt;Looney Tunes Cartoon One Froggy Evening&lt;/u&gt;: If I have to explain why I made this purchase… it’s just not worth it… It’s a singing Frog for God’s Sake… a SINGING FROG!!! That’s hilarious!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;u&gt;Audio Book – Outliers: The Story of Success by Malcolm Gladwell&lt;/u&gt;: This is my first audio purchase and I got it based on how much I loved Malcolm’s other books. Again, once I listen to it, I will let you know.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;u&gt;Robert Johnson King of the Delta Blues&lt;/u&gt;: This is the man who inspired Eric Clapton (who was a purchase last year). Great collection of songs, awesome guitar work.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;u&gt;The Very Best of Sam Cooke &amp;amp; the Soul Stirrers Volume 1 &amp;amp; 2&lt;/u&gt;: I already had country and jazz, so I needed a little bit of religious soul. I love Sam’s A Change is Gonna Come (even though Spike Lee tried to ruin it in Malcolm X) and this is a great collection of traditional gospel songs. I swear I did not intend on making this a spiritual collection it kind of just happened. But I must admit, I think I have my entire spiritual catalogue set.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;So now we are moving into the singles section of my purchases, money’s beginning to run low and I had some specific songs I have been missing for awhile. They include Queensryche’s Silent Lucidity, Ray Charles’ What’d I Say, Lita Ford’s Close My Eyes Forever (guilty pleasure) and a David Axelrod song, Jimmy T.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;Overall, I love my collection. I meant to purchase a Kiss album but I can just never get myself to click on the “buy” button… maybe next year.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-8181102557362479311?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8181102557362479311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8181102557362479311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-i-purchased-why-itunes-2008.html' title='What I Purchased &amp;amp; Why: iTunes 2008 Christmas-time'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://lh6.ggpht.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SW-wSzS7c_I/AAAAAAAACIY/hfBgIJGu31A/s72-c/kiss_thumb%5B1%5D.jpg?imgmax=800' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-7735308598246794881</id><published>2008-12-23T22:59:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T23:05:24.363+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Friendly Game of Backgammon</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SVFgKGEAkeI/AAAAAAAACHM/JApPyQbdsDQ/s1600-h/MvpBackgammon1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283109564424688098" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SVFgKGEAkeI/AAAAAAAACHM/JApPyQbdsDQ/s400/MvpBackgammon1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;The Backgammon Game&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to Wikipedia, "Backgammon is a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Board game" style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: none; COLOR: rgb(0,43,184); TEXT-DECORATION: none; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial" href="http://www.blogger.com/wiki/Board_game"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;board game&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; for two players in which the playing pieces are moved according to the roll of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Dice" style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: none; COLOR: rgb(0,43,184); TEXT-DECORATION: none; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial" href="http://www.blogger.com/wiki/Dice"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;dice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;. A player wins by removing all of his pieces from the board. There are many variants of backgammon, most of which share common traits. Backgammon is a member of the&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a title="Tables (board game)" style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: none; COLOR: rgb(0,43,184); TEXT-DECORATION: none; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial" href="http://www.blogger.com/wiki/Tables_(board_game)"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;tables&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; family, one of the oldest classes of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="mw-redirect" title="Board games" style="BACKGROUND-IMAGE: none; COLOR: rgb(0,43,184); TEXT-DECORATION: none; -webkit-background-clip: initial; -webkit-background-origin: initial" href="http://www.blogger.com/wiki/Board_games"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt;board games&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffffff;"&gt; in the world."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to interject here… this is supposed to be a friendly game of backgammon between two people online. The only thing you would expect they would share in common is an appreciation for the game. But watch what happens when two people decide to chat while playing backgammon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a little background information, most on-line games offer a chat space so you can say novel things such as “good move”, “nice game”, “hello” and possibly “bye”. But in this case, it went just a bit further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Player One:enters.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; hi gl&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; ty gl to u2&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; gg&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; gg&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; what is with all the double 6's&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Yes I wonder about the randomness of the dice on this site&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; that is the way msn set it up&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; probably&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; haha&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; it does happen a lot that, when you're on the bar, you roll doubles; have you noticed that?&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; I have also played many more games than you and know how to play&lt;br /&gt;EDITORS NOTE: This is our first glimpse into something strange being in the air.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; I don't understand what you're saying... I know how to play!&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; you have only played 14 games to my 2610&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Yes, online; I play with people on backgammon boards all the time!&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; some of your moves are way off base&lt;br /&gt;EDITORS NOTE: Player One is winning at this point of the game.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; OK I've thought the same of you.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; my moves are made strategically&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Ok rosie, why don't you just play and you can keep your thoughts to yourself.&lt;br /&gt;EDITORS NOTE: Player One has begun to lose patience.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; i made my moves based on the wrong ones you have made&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; fine and you will lose&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; I'm not surprised you play online so much; you can't have many friends!&lt;br /&gt;EDITORS NOTE: Player One once told one of the greeters at Walmart (who prevented a dog from coming into the store) that their’s (the greeter) was a pity job. Lesson, do not piss off Player One.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; keep your stupid remarks to yourself&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Yep. You are a sad loser. Do you have a lot of cats? Poor cats.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; SHUT THE %#@$ UP JACKASS&lt;br /&gt;EDITORS NOTE: The backgammon site evidently prevents curse words from being printed but does allow the word jackass… interesting.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Rosie, get a boyfriend. My husband just read this chat and thinks you are the biggest loser. Wow! That's an amazing distinction.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; YOU ARE A SORE LOSER AND A LOUSY PLAYER&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; I HAVE A HUSBAND&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; I am so sorry for him.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; HE IS A PRO-FOOTBALL PLAYER&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; LOL&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; #@$! YOU&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Now you're lying. I love it. You are pathetic.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; SHUT UP&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; YOUR ARE THE PATHETIC ONE I FEEL SORRY FOR YOUR POOR HUSBAND HAVING TO PUT UP WITH A #@$!% LIKE YOU&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; It's so funny to me that you are flipping out. Hey at least you are getting some human interaction instead of talking to your canaries.&lt;br /&gt;EDITORS NOTE: I love that line.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; I DON'T HAVE ANIMALS IDIOT&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Thank god for that.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; I wouldn't wish you on any animal.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; I don't feel sorry for your husband since there's no way you have one, or if you do he is definitely brain-damaged, like yourself.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Maybe you'll play better after 2000 more games.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDITORS NOTE: Player Two decided to raise the bar by including icons.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; you got one in, you should be so proud.&lt;br /&gt;EDITORS NOTE: This was referring to when Player Two finally got a point in the match… just in case anyone was confused that Player One was referring to Player Two’s clever use of said icons.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; very strategic.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; SHUT UP STUPID #@$!%&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Oh look I won, wow. Must have learned a lot from playing with you - except you're a moron, so that can't be it.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; THAT IS WHAT YOU ARE&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; um OK. Are you two?&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; NO YOU ARE 5&lt;br /&gt;EDITORS NOTE: Perhaps Player Two is Napolean Dynamite?&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; great comeback.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; WHY DON'T YOU TAKE YOUR OWN ADVISE AND SHUT UP?&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; why don't you learn to spell "advice"?&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; EXCUSE ME #@$!%&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Maybe you should spend less time playing games online and more time learning to spell.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; I HAVE A MASTER'S DEGREE IN BUSINESS AND FINANCE I DON'T THINK TYPING IN CHAT IS A BIG DEAL&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; wow a master's in finance and a pro-football husband. You have a rich fantasy life. Did they not teach you how to spell in business school?&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; ESPECIALLY AGAINST AN UNEDUCATED !%#@$ LIKE YOU&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Insults from morons are compliments - so thank you!&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; I appreciate it. You are flattering me.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; WHY DON'T YOU JUST SHUT UP?&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; I just keep answering you. But I don't expect more logic than that from a mildly retarded person such as yourself.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; I'm sorry, I meant moderately retarded.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; YOU SHOULD GO TAKE YOUR MEDS AND CALM DOWN&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; lol I think you'd know all about meds.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; NOT ME&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; It seems you're the expert on meds. Probably take several a day.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; I TAKE NONE ON ANY DAY - YOU PROBABLY TAKE BOTTLES EVERY DAY&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Maybe that's why after playing 2600 games of backgammon online you're still a pretty poor player.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; LOOK AT MY RATING AND LOOK AT YOURS&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Seriously, are you like 12 years old? Now I feel kind-of bad because I think you might be a pre-adolescent.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Yes, I waste my time playing with real people and having a life.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; I'd suggest you try it sometime but I can't imagine who'd want to be around you long enough for a game of backgammon.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; See that was a stupid move.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Yours, obviously.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; I'd tell you why but I don't want to teach you anything.&lt;br /&gt;EDITORS NOTE: Player Two wins the next game and Player One shows good sportsmanship… or not.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Bye loser. You won the match, but you're the biggest loser I've ever met! Enjoy your sad life - NOT&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; GO !%#@ YOUR CAT BIRCH&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; YOU ARE A CHEATER ALSO&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; YOU %#@$!%# $!%#@&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; LIAR&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Oops, looks like I won. Is it part of your strategy to lose a bunch of games??&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; CHEATER&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Yes I cheat. I have hacked into MSN and tampered with the dice. You are a freak.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; NO YOU CHEAT&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; I want to send you a picture too, but I can't find one of a big freak.&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; I copied this chat because no one will ever believe what a freak you are without reading it.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; CHEATER&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; CHEATER&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; CHEATER&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; You will make many, many people laugh. Thank you!!&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; #@$! YOU %#@$!&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Especially since I'm going to win. HA!&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; HAHAHAHAHAH&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; NO IN MY LIFE TIME&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; So funny. You are strategic. LOL&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; YOUR LIFE TIME IS VERY SHORT RIGHTNOW&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; LOLOL&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; #@$! YOU %#@$!&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; #@$!%&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; JACKASS&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; CHEATER&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; LOSER&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; I've got to copy this part too. I have never met such a freak. Are you on a computer in a mental hospital???&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; YOUR POOR HUSBAND MARRIED A LOSER&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; NO, BUT YOU ARE&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; LOL&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; GO TO @$!% AND I HOPE YOUR CHRISTMAS IS A NIGHTMARE FROM $!%#&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; My husband is laughing his bootie off right now. He loves this. Freaks crack us up. Seriously, thank you for the laugh!!&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; GO TO @$!% WITH YOUR POOR LOSER OF A HUSBAND&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Now I feel bad; obviously you will be spending Christmas alone, no friend, no family, no pets. AWWWW!!!&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; REALLY I WILL BE AT THE FOOTBALL PLAYOFFS WITH MY HUSBAND&lt;br /&gt;EDITORS NOTE: I think at this point in time, no one is playing backgammon anymore…&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; No football player husband, no business degree, probably no highschool diploma...&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; #@$! YOU %#@$!&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; YOU KNOW ABSOLUTELY NOTHING&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Do you at least have a job?&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Yes, collecting a welfare check. That's your job.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; NO, I DON'T HAVE TO WORK WITH THE SALARY MY HUSBAND HAS&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; You are a really funny person. I mean, you don't mean to be, but you are, on accident.&lt;br /&gt;Player Two (AKA PSYCHO):&gt; YOU ARE A MENTAL CASE&lt;br /&gt;Player One:&gt; Uh-huh.&lt;br /&gt;EDITORS NOTE: This was my favorite game of backgammon ever!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-7735308598246794881?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7735308598246794881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7735308598246794881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/12/friendly-game-of-backgammon.html' title='The Friendly Game of Backgammon'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SVFgKGEAkeI/AAAAAAAACHM/JApPyQbdsDQ/s72-c/MvpBackgammon1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-7259951763595624348</id><published>2008-12-23T22:01:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T22:04:58.743+01:00</updated><title type='text'>YES!  The Yankees Can!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SVFR_TajUvI/AAAAAAAACGs/L8Ql-hJEmFc/s1600-h/mark+texeria.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283093985867551474" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SVFR_TajUvI/AAAAAAAACGs/L8Ql-hJEmFc/s400/mark+texeria.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Yanks, Teixeira agree on 8-year deal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=3790141"&gt;http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=3790141&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So we have CC Sabathia, AJ Burnett, and now Teixeira!? I wrote earlier this year that when the Yankees spend money, I feel like when I used to play my video baseball game and I would load the Yankees up with superstars. But now, with the Yankees not making the playoffs… I am like… get THEM!!! And two of the three (CC and Mark) are proven commodities… I must admit I have a fear of AJ being Carl Pavano the II.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So right now, the Yankees are looking as follows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;1&lt;sup&gt;st&lt;/sup&gt; Base – Mark Teixeria&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;2&lt;sup&gt;nd&lt;/sup&gt; Base – Robinson Cano (although I'm wondering about the Orlando Hudson… and the possible trade with the Dodgers for Matt Kemp).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Shortstop – Derek Jeter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;3&lt;sup&gt;rd&lt;/sup&gt; Base – A-Rod&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Catcher – Jorge Posada&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;LF – Johnny Damon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;CF – Nick Swisher/Brett Gardner/Melky Cabrera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;RF – Xavier Nady&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;DH – Hideki Matsui&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Pitching&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;CC Sabathia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Chien-Ming Wang&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Joba Chamberlain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;AJ Burnett&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Andy Petitte&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Mariano Rivera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Man… I like this team… I am practically giggling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-7259951763595624348?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7259951763595624348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7259951763595624348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/12/yes-yankees-can.html' title='YES!  The Yankees Can!!!'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SVFR_TajUvI/AAAAAAAACGs/L8Ql-hJEmFc/s72-c/mark+texeria.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-5664237776431353133</id><published>2008-12-23T21:31:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T21:40:24.730+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Other Man In My Wife’s Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;When you get together with someone special, you accept that there will always be other "men" in their life. I don't mean this literally, I mean this imaginatively… Sometimes the other man is Russell Crowe, Joaquin Phoenix, Tom Cruise, Hugh Jackman. Maybe they go for the quirky guy… the Jim Carey, the Daniel Craig, the Vince Vaughn… Regardless, there is almost always another interest and they come up while watching television. Speaking for myself, I have been forced to learn how to share my wife's attention with actors like men from Patrick Duffy (circa the Dallas years), to actors in television shows like Alias, Buffy and 24. This has to be expected. So the other day, when Minna told me she had a dream the night before about being with another man, I immediately began prepping myself for the Hugh Jackman, Daniel Craig… but Minna came then confessed the man to be… Dennis Kucinich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yes, that's right… my wife is dreaming about Dennis Kucinich… maybe it's his vegan-induced youthful appeal. His stance on war issues… his willingness to stick to his beliefs even when mocked by others… maybe because he's almost always, the determined underdog… But this is the man she's having dreams about.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SVFMiqHbbEI/AAAAAAAACGk/SuL9fQD12iY/s1600-h/Dennis_Kucinich.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283087996187012162" style="WIDTH: 325px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SVFMiqHbbEI/AAAAAAAACGk/SuL9fQD12iY/s400/Dennis_Kucinich.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-5664237776431353133?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/5664237776431353133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/5664237776431353133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/12/other-man-in-my-wifes-life.html' title='The Other Man In My Wife’s Life'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SVFMiqHbbEI/AAAAAAAACGk/SuL9fQD12iY/s72-c/Dennis_Kucinich.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-8114747274863397714</id><published>2008-11-24T13:05:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T13:10:47.818+01:00</updated><title type='text'>One of My Favorite Sesame Street Segments</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SSqZffwsDdI/AAAAAAAACFU/s3Wx2VA28yY/s1600-h/page0_blog_entry583_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272195080171294162" style="WIDTH: 315px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 238px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SSqZffwsDdI/AAAAAAAACFU/s3Wx2VA28yY/s400/page0_blog_entry583_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qxWGr8VhzQ"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4qxWGr8VhzQ&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These huys were hilarious!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-8114747274863397714?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8114747274863397714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8114747274863397714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-of-my-favorite-sesame-street.html' title='One of My Favorite Sesame Street Segments'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SSqZffwsDdI/AAAAAAAACFU/s3Wx2VA28yY/s72-c/page0_blog_entry583_1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-2969142485001094450</id><published>2008-11-23T23:27:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T23:28:15.024+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Belgiums Appear To Like Obama</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SSnY8bjIaLI/AAAAAAAACFM/VpF8rvTNit0/s1600-h/Brussels.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271983371512735922" style="WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SSnY8bjIaLI/AAAAAAAACFM/VpF8rvTNit0/s400/Brussels.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This flag appeared on Grand Place in Brussels after Obama won the election.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-2969142485001094450?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/2969142485001094450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/2969142485001094450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/11/belgiums-appear-to-like-obama.html' title='Belgiums Appear To Like Obama'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SSnY8bjIaLI/AAAAAAAACFM/VpF8rvTNit0/s72-c/Brussels.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-4193112148363111958</id><published>2008-10-29T12:34:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T12:35:57.557+01:00</updated><title type='text'>It looks like we're not in Kansas anymore</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SQhKkXxfmVI/AAAAAAAACD8/GgF9mwFcC_M/s1600-h/frost.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262538153299777874" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 270px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SQhKkXxfmVI/AAAAAAAACD8/GgF9mwFcC_M/s400/frost.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woke up this morning when Lily announced it was time to get up. I picked her up and carried her downstairs. The first floor was freezing so I closed the doors and turned on the radiator. Lily and I looked out the window and I saw frost covering all of the cars. The cold and view made me immediately feel joy with the impending holiday season. Christmas is just around the corner! But then, I realized that it is still October and I have another two months before Christmas... and it's this cold!? And I re-realize once again, we're no longer in Los Angeles, Toto.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-4193112148363111958?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/4193112148363111958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/4193112148363111958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/10/it-looks-like-were-not-in-kansas.html' title='It looks like we&apos;re not in Kansas anymore'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SQhKkXxfmVI/AAAAAAAACD8/GgF9mwFcC_M/s72-c/frost.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-6193890494414422293</id><published>2008-10-05T15:22:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T15:34:37.935+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Back On The Saddle Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;u&gt;Waverly&lt;/u&gt;: I've decided to play chess again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;Lindo Jong&lt;/u&gt;: You think it is so easy. One day quit, next day play. Everything for you is this way: so smart, so easy, so fast. Not so easy anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SOjBE8d4wzI/AAAAAAAACBE/sXERTe5oejA/s1600-h/joy+luck+club.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253661256022803250" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SOjBE8d4wzI/AAAAAAAACBE/sXERTe5oejA/s400/joy+luck+club.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;u&gt;Waverly Jong&lt;/u&gt;: What she said, it was like a curse. This power I had, this belief in myself, I could actually feel it draining away. I could feel myself becoming ordinary. All the secrets I once saw, I couldn't see them anymore. All I could see was, were my mistakes, my weaknesses. The best part of me just disappeared. But I can't put it all on my mother. I did it to myself. I never played chess again.&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1"&gt;[1]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I have always considered myself a writer. This is kind of funny because writing is something I rarely do. I can come up with several excuses but that is all I really have to offer, excuses. So, to quote Shakespeare, “Once more unto the breach.”&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2"&gt;[2]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SOjBTA0jtWI/AAAAAAAACBM/WUAEFrY68I0/s1600-h/HVherald.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253661497709802850" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SOjBTA0jtWI/AAAAAAAACBM/WUAEFrY68I0/s400/HVherald.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;But before I even get started, I find myself with a lot of doubts. Have I wasted too much time not writing. Towards the end of The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand, the Howard Roark character visits Peter who wants to show Howard his paintings. Howard looks at them and tells Peter it’s too late. Each time I have read this book, I get so pissed off at Howard. Because, who is he to be the judge of Peter telling him, it’s too late. But according to some people, Howard may have been right. This next passage is taken from an essay on the book…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Peter realizes very late in life that the reason he is unhappy is that he has always lived to please others and never himself. There is a point where he is sitting all disheveled and old trying to paint something original for the first time in his life just because he feels like painting. But it is ugly and childish because he has no experience trying to do something original and decades of selling out have reduced him to a quivering excuse for an artist. It's really tragic.&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3"&gt;[3]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here’s my point… I don’t think there’s a time where it’s too late. There is definitely a time when it’s too late to be easy. For instance, Lily is at a point where she is already understanding both English and French. But I am still in barely-survival French. So age can be a factor. Although, if I used honesty as a factor, I would discover that I would do a lot better with my French if I actually, you know… studied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here’s to returning to the blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[1]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0107282/"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0107282/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[2]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/269700.html"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/269700.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;[3]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://hubpages.com/hub/thefountainhead"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;http://hubpages.com/hub/thefountainhead&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-6193890494414422293?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6193890494414422293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6193890494414422293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/10/back-on-saddle-again.html' title='Back On The Saddle Again'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SOjBE8d4wzI/AAAAAAAACBE/sXERTe5oejA/s72-c/joy+luck+club.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-8468596708074828439</id><published>2008-10-05T15:11:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T15:16:14.895+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Speeches In Our Time</title><content type='html'>"The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place... and I don´t care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently, if you let it. You, me or nobody, is gonna hit as hard as life. But ain't about how hard you hit... It's about how hard you can get hit, and keep moving forward... how much you can take, and keep moving forward. That´s how winning is done. Now, if you know what you worth, go out and get what you worth. But you gotta be willing to take the hits. And not pointing fingers saying: You ain´t what you wanna be because of him or her or anybody. Cowards do that and that ain´t you! You´re better than that!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Rocky Balboa)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1tXhJniSEc"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1tXhJniSEc&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SOi9sChSl-I/AAAAAAAACA8/feyIL2PACiA/s1600-h/FP1729-ROCKY-BALBOA-teaser.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5253657529616078818" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SOi9sChSl-I/AAAAAAAACA8/feyIL2PACiA/s400/FP1729-ROCKY-BALBOA-teaser.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-8468596708074828439?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8468596708074828439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8468596708074828439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/10/great-speeches-in-our-time.html' title='Great Speeches In Our Time'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SOi9sChSl-I/AAAAAAAACA8/feyIL2PACiA/s72-c/FP1729-ROCKY-BALBOA-teaser.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-7092193690736538214</id><published>2008-09-04T13:42:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T13:43:12.399+02:00</updated><title type='text'>RETHINKING BLOG... STAY TUNED</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-7092193690736538214?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7092193690736538214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7092193690736538214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/09/rethinking-blog-stay-tuned.html' title='RETHINKING BLOG... STAY TUNED'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-4060742065748283318</id><published>2008-08-07T15:14:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T15:15:56.601+02:00</updated><title type='text'>"Do what you can, with what you have, where you are."</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SJr1gtF3wOI/AAAAAAAAB2c/2CWHdyf8ay4/s1600-h/56.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231763859353092322" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SJr1gtF3wOI/AAAAAAAAB2c/2CWHdyf8ay4/s400/56.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do what you can, with what you have, where you are."&lt;br /&gt;--Theodore Roosevelt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-4060742065748283318?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/4060742065748283318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/4060742065748283318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/08/do-what-you-can-with-what-you-have.html' title='&quot;Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.&quot;'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SJr1gtF3wOI/AAAAAAAAB2c/2CWHdyf8ay4/s72-c/56.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-2697920987890148012</id><published>2008-07-24T11:11:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T11:20:58.220+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Talula Does The Hula From Hawaii</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SIhJLQeAqpI/AAAAAAAAB10/qtubuoY5ixM/s1600-h/GORGEOUS+picture+of+Lily,+age+20+months.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226507825311689362" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SIhJLQeAqpI/AAAAAAAAB10/qtubuoY5ixM/s400/GORGEOUS+picture+of+Lily,+age+20+months.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please note: This is taken literally from the BBC News. Fascinating article about parental cruelty. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BTW, names we had considered for Lily include Violet Magdalena, Lucas Emmanuel, Klaus Emmanuel, Zoe Magdalena, Zoe Violet, Cordelia Lillian, Claudette Liliane, Veronica Ione, Calliope Iona, and Veronica Vivian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/7522952.stm"&gt;http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/7522952.stm&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;u&gt;NZ judge orders 'odd' name change&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;A judge in New Zealand made a young girl a ward of court so that she could change the name she hated - Talula Does The Hula From Hawaii.&lt;br /&gt;Judge Rob Murfitt said that the name embarrassed the nine-year-old and could expose her to teasing.&lt;br /&gt;He attacked a trend of giving children bizarre name, citing several examples.&lt;br /&gt;Officials had blocked Sex Fruit, Keenan Got Lucy and Yeah Detroit, he said, but Number 16 Bus Shelter, Violence and Midnight Chardonnay had been allowed.&lt;br /&gt;One mother wanted to name her child O.crnia using text language, but was later persuaded to use Oceania, he said.&lt;br /&gt;'Social handicap'&lt;br /&gt;The ruling, in the city of New Plymouth on the North Island, was handed down in February but only made public now.&lt;br /&gt;UNUSUAL NAMES&lt;br /&gt;Allowed : Violence; Number 16 Bus Shelter; Midnight Chardonnay; Benson and Hedges (twins)&lt;br /&gt;Blocked : Yeah Detroit; Stallion; Twisty Poi; Keenan Got Lucy; Sex Fruit; Fat Boy; Cinderella Beauty Blossom; Fish and Chips (twins)&lt;br /&gt;The name issue emerged during a custody hearing for the young girl - who had refused to tell her friends her name and went simply by "K".&lt;br /&gt;"The court is profoundly concerned about the very poor judgment which this child's parents have shown in choosing this name," Judge Murfitt wrote.&lt;br /&gt;"It makes a fool of the child and sets her up with a social disability and handicap, unnecessarily."&lt;br /&gt;Talula Does The Hula From Hawaii's name has now been changed and the custody case resolved, court officials said.&lt;br /&gt;New Zealand does not allow names that would cause offence or that are longer than 100 characters, Registrar-General Brian Clarke said.&lt;br /&gt;Officials often tried to talk parents out of particularly unusual choices that could embarrass their offspring, the Associated Press news agency quoted him as saying.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-2697920987890148012?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/2697920987890148012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/2697920987890148012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/07/talula-does-hula-from-hawaii.html' title='Talula Does The Hula From Hawaii'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SIhJLQeAqpI/AAAAAAAAB10/qtubuoY5ixM/s72-c/GORGEOUS+picture+of+Lily,+age+20+months.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-7395866189443730082</id><published>2008-07-22T22:58:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T23:01:09.014+02:00</updated><title type='text'>A Little Humor</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SIZKf8NEP5I/AAAAAAAAB1s/eJswj4BUu3E/s1600-h/cd_trombone_concerto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225946330207371154" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SIZKf8NEP5I/AAAAAAAAB1s/eJswj4BUu3E/s400/cd_trombone_concerto.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two cars pass each other, in one car a man with a trombone in the backseat, and the other a frog with a banjo by his side. What is the difference between the two?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There’s a chance the frog is going to a gig.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What’s the difference between a trombonist and a Dominos’ Pizza?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;The pizza can feed a family of four.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the definition of an optimist?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;A trombone player with a pager.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you call a trombone player who’s girlfriend breaks up with him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Homeless&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-7395866189443730082?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7395866189443730082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7395866189443730082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/07/little-humor.html' title='A Little Humor'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SIZKf8NEP5I/AAAAAAAAB1s/eJswj4BUu3E/s72-c/cd_trombone_concerto.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-1218046683099925457</id><published>2008-07-22T22:14:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T22:21:54.226+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Good Times...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SIZBMDU3RYI/AAAAAAAAB1k/wOaZjL3cYFU/s1600-h/star+wars+trumpet+solo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225936092917089666" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SIZBMDU3RYI/AAAAAAAAB1k/wOaZjL3cYFU/s400/star+wars+trumpet+solo.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Normally, I avoid adding hyperlinks from YouTube because I hate it when people post "Top Ten" sites. Why? Because that tells the various copyright companies that these videos are on there. Then they're removed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But I love this one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wffwg7pA0t8"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wffwg7pA0t8&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-1218046683099925457?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1218046683099925457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1218046683099925457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/07/good-times.html' title='Good Times...'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SIZBMDU3RYI/AAAAAAAAB1k/wOaZjL3cYFU/s72-c/star+wars+trumpet+solo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-396077115807602328</id><published>2008-07-22T22:01:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T22:09:05.053+02:00</updated><title type='text'>World's Greatest Hotel Review</title><content type='html'>Bunny found this review while searching for hotels. Brilliant... click on the photo for larger size.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SIY97sOKCpI/AAAAAAAAB1c/wJtjX0gOQfM/s1600-h/hotel+review.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225932513302153874" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SIY97sOKCpI/AAAAAAAAB1c/wJtjX0gOQfM/s400/hotel+review.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SIY9bdSCQsI/AAAAAAAAB1U/PWKCz148WQk/s1600-h/hotel+review.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.booking.com/hotel/fr/des-allies.html?sid=1f77c10b8bf20b0e8b1831a0c943a11f;checkin=2008-09-12;checkout=2008-09-14"&gt;http://www.booking.com/hotel/fr/des-allies.html?sid=1f77c10b8bf20b0e8b1831a0c943a11f;checkin=2008-09-12;checkout=2008-09-14&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-396077115807602328?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/396077115807602328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/396077115807602328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/07/worlds-greatest-hotel-review.html' title='World&apos;s Greatest Hotel Review'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SIY97sOKCpI/AAAAAAAAB1c/wJtjX0gOQfM/s72-c/hotel+review.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-79041732734191080</id><published>2008-07-13T19:41:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-13T19:47:03.580+02:00</updated><title type='text'>You're on top of a ladder, painting the ceiling... the ladder begins to buckle... you're first thought... crud</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHo_ZUYZvtI/AAAAAAAAB0Y/iHc6gYZXNUQ/s1600-h/recent_earthquakes_map.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222556422089850578" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHo_ZUYZvtI/AAAAAAAAB0Y/iHc6gYZXNUQ/s320/recent_earthquakes_map.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this afternoon, we're minding our own businesses... Lily is napping, Buffy is sleeping on our bed, Minna and I are in the reading room painting it. Actually, I'm on the top step of a ladder painting the ceiling when my ladder begins shaking as if it's going to buckle. It takes me a second to realize that Minna is shaking as well along with the whole house. So while I didn't feel alone in my problems, I still recognized that I was definitely not in the best position when you're experiencing an earthquake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's right... the earthquakes have followed us east. Belgium experienced an earthquake (3.1) on the richter scale. Not that you would need it but here's my proof!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All is well, no damage and I made it safely down the ladder. Lily was not thrilled, it was powerful enough to wake her up. Buffy had come running to us as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-79041732734191080?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/79041732734191080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/79041732734191080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/07/youre-on-top-of-ladder-painting-ceiling.html' title='You&apos;re on top of a ladder, painting the ceiling... the ladder begins to buckle... you&apos;re first thought... crud'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHo_ZUYZvtI/AAAAAAAAB0Y/iHc6gYZXNUQ/s72-c/recent_earthquakes_map.bmp' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-647226375120366579</id><published>2008-07-12T21:43:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T21:48:30.935+02:00</updated><title type='text'>This is the Song I Hum to Lily to Put Her to Sleep</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHkKaMGI9hI/AAAAAAAAB0Q/9rxSUsu_n5g/s1600-h/jerry_garcia_doll.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222216687952655890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHkKaMGI9hI/AAAAAAAAB0Q/9rxSUsu_n5g/s320/jerry_garcia_doll.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lVdTQ3OPtGY"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lVdTQ3OPtGY&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine&lt;br /&gt;And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung,&lt;br /&gt;Would you hear my voice come thru the music,&lt;br /&gt;Would you hold it near as it were your own?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken,&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps theyre better left unsung.&lt;br /&gt;I dont know, dont really care&lt;br /&gt;Let there be songs to fill the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ripple in still water,&lt;br /&gt;When there is no pebble tossed,&lt;br /&gt;Nor wind to blow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reach out your hand if your cup be empty,&lt;br /&gt;If your cup is full may it be again,&lt;br /&gt;Let it be known there is a fountain,&lt;br /&gt;That was not made by the hands of men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a road, no simple highway,&lt;br /&gt;Between the dawn and the dark of night,&lt;br /&gt;And if you go no one may follow,&lt;br /&gt;That path is for your steps alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ripple in still water,&lt;br /&gt;When there is no pebble tossed,&lt;br /&gt;Nor wind to blow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But if you fall you fall alone,&lt;br /&gt;If you should stand then whos to guide you?&lt;br /&gt;If I knew the way I would take you home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La dee da da da, la da da da da, da da da, da da, da da da da da&lt;br /&gt;La da da da, la da da, da da, la da da da, la da, da da.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-647226375120366579?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/647226375120366579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/647226375120366579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-is-song-i-hum-to-lily-to-put-her.html' title='This is the Song I Hum to Lily to Put Her to Sleep'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHkKaMGI9hI/AAAAAAAAB0Q/9rxSUsu_n5g/s72-c/jerry_garcia_doll.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-8905580582039288203</id><published>2008-07-12T21:42:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T21:43:07.445+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHkJNwQUrxI/AAAAAAAAB0I/IW3vBBekBbU/s1600-h/St[1].+Paul+Stained+Glass+Dove.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222215374809116434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHkJNwQUrxI/AAAAAAAAB0I/IW3vBBekBbU/s320/St%5B1%5D.+Paul+Stained+Glass+Dove.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I am ready to be whole.&lt;br /&gt;I renounce all destruction&lt;br /&gt;and invite redemption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make me whole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seek the light within, I seek&lt;br /&gt;the light universal&lt;br /&gt;and the light within All Others.&lt;br /&gt;I invite sweet redemption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make me whole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will court peace, I will&lt;br /&gt;strive for sustainment, I will&lt;br /&gt;try for redemption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make me whole&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Direct my way, Light,&lt;br /&gt;transform me from within,&lt;br /&gt;remove all destruction,&lt;br /&gt;provide redemption.&lt;br /&gt;Direct my thoughts and acts&lt;br /&gt;Away from strife, toward love and peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I crave sweet redemption.&lt;br /&gt;I renounce destruction.&lt;br /&gt;I want to be ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Make me whole&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-8905580582039288203?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8905580582039288203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8905580582039288203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-am-ready-to-be-whole.html' title=''/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHkJNwQUrxI/AAAAAAAAB0I/IW3vBBekBbU/s72-c/St%5B1%5D.+Paul+Stained+Glass+Dove.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-5963481775165363562</id><published>2008-07-12T17:25:00.004+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T17:41:57.584+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Laid Plans of Procrastinators</title><content type='html'>So I have this great plan to study French more and to get to the point that I can actually say more then 'hello' and 'I'm sorry, I do not speak French very well' and 'she is very gentile' (that is reference to Buffy when little kids want to pet her but are afraid to'... My plan includes purchasing a black and white marble notebook (shown above) to keep track of French phrases, vocabulary, etc and read/study every day. So what's keeping me from starting this? The lack of a black and white marble notebook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHjQeMa7P_I/AAAAAAAAB0A/hdo4gBxd_RE/s1600-h/black+white+marble+notebook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222152985084903410" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHjQeMa7P_I/AAAAAAAAB0A/hdo4gBxd_RE/s320/black+white+marble+notebook.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;If you looked for the definition of 'lame' you would probably see a picture of me next to it. Forget about the three dozen cases of notebooks I can take from the office... they are regular notebooks, not black and white marble. I can't even tell you why I want the black and white marble notebook. I just do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as soon as I get that notebook... then I can begin... Sighhhhh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-5963481775165363562?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/5963481775165363562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/5963481775165363562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/07/best-laid-plans-of-procrastinators.html' title='The Best Laid Plans of Procrastinators'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHjQeMa7P_I/AAAAAAAAB0A/hdo4gBxd_RE/s72-c/black+white+marble+notebook.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-4687005244677794332</id><published>2008-07-11T22:31:00.009+02:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T15:56:25.306+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Profiles in Frac</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHhmvTuCKBI/AAAAAAAABz4/-GGW1qi9J1c/s1600-h/harbinger+comic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222036730869327890" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHhmvTuCKBI/AAAAAAAABz4/-GGW1qi9J1c/s320/harbinger+comic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;harbinger \HAR-bin-juhr\, noun:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. (Archaic) One who provides lodgings; especially, the officer of the English royal household who formerly preceded the court when traveling, to provide and prepare lodgings.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. A forerunner; a precursor; one that presages or foreshadows what is to come.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or in the case of my great buddy Frac, a really awful comic. Frac got me into several good graphic novels but this one was snoozeville.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;In my triumphant return to blogland, I decided to add an ongoing feature in which I take someone in my life and write up a profile of sorts. For today... it's Frac. Frac goes by another name but this is how I know him. It is not as if I am promising great writing for the rest of this piece, instead, I just want to impart some of what makes Frac... Frac...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I first met Frac, I was introduced to him as the most recent ex-boyfriend of my then current girlfriend. Yet, instead of feeling any hesitation upon meeting him, I liked him instantly. We went on a double-date to a drive-in theater. Saw one of the truly horrible movies ever (Flatliners - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBQZ7UXHrlQ"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBQZ7UXHrlQ&lt;/a&gt;)... a movie so bad, he and I started a Pop-Tart fight to pass the time. This should have been a sign of things to come because Frac and I ended up becoming HUGE MST 3000 fans. He and I even got yelled by then current girlfriend because he and I were watching one of the all time best MST-ies, Time of the Apes, while she typed up my paper for school (which was completely unfair as she was the one who suggested we watch it - just not four hours of it straight... but still). &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While Harbinger was a bust, he did put me onto the best comic ever "Stickman"... at least I think it was called Stickman... Additionally, he put me onto Sandman which was awesome! Frac's also a great cartoonist himself. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Frac introduced me to one of life's greatest inventions... the asiago cheese loaf bread from Au Bon Pain.... oh man... this is good stuff... of course I am now three thousand miles away from the nearest Au Bon Pain. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When both Frac and I were single and living in and around New York, we were minding our own business taking a walk in the village. At one point, we were stopped by a comedian in front of comedy store who was trying to get people to come into the club. We really didn't want to go, but neither of us could talk the guy out of leaving us alone (and the concept of just walking away from the guy of course did not come to either one of us). So in we go. The problem is, when you are two guys walking into a not crowded comedy club with third and fourth rate comics, you do not have a good time because you become a target for "gay" jokes. Without fail, the comics would try out a line or two, start to bomb, and then look over at Frac and my table, and ask, "so are you two a couple or what?". It became a running thing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Frac... this one's for you... &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gre4DZuA6k4"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gre4DZuA6k4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SJBy7rCjqCI/AAAAAAAAB2U/Fx9BYDNyWqs/s1600-h/frac.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228805536868444194" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SJBy7rCjqCI/AAAAAAAAB2U/Fx9BYDNyWqs/s400/frac.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-4687005244677794332?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/4687005244677794332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/4687005244677794332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/07/profiles-in-frac.html' title='Profiles in Frac'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SHhmvTuCKBI/AAAAAAAABz4/-GGW1qi9J1c/s72-c/harbinger+comic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-6036981999217792681</id><published>2008-06-07T08:58:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T12:16:48.282+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Opinion'/><title type='text'>Teens Doing the Dumb Things Teens Do</title><content type='html'>So, I caught an article describing parents horror at discovering their teenage girls (and boys) were taking photos of themselves (naked!) and then emailing them to each other*. This "Another-Example-Of-How-Evil-The-World-Is-Today" report also detailed how teenage boys and girls were being arrested on various accounts sexual exploitation. Now, I must admit, at first I felt the shock and fear I am sure the writer of this article fully intended to insight. I mean, it will only be another 13 to 14 years before I have to watch out for Lily participating in such terrifying behaviour right out of an Aldous Huxley novel. But then I caught my breath and thought, wow, is this really anything but your typical teen behaviour. As some others who commented on the article stated, the kids of today are using digital cameras when we used polaroids or went skinny-dipping, etc. It's not necessarily behaviour that makes you proud but it is certainly the type you can expect from teens. Teens do stupid things without any thought to possible ramifications. Now as the reporter does thoughtfully point out, there is one difference between the world of my teens (80s) and the world of today. If a polaroid of me got away from me, my worst fear would be the town finding out. And if my particular shame grew embarassing enough, then worst case, I have to move. But today, if you send your boyfriend a naked photo of yourself, and then you break up harshly later on with said boyfriend (as women folk are known to do), then you open yourself to having said Ex post the picture on the internet for the entire World to potentially see. Thus, you lose even the option of moving to another town.&lt;br /&gt;But I would suggest the following. One, your teen is only at danger from people specifically looking for these types of photos (pervs) and generally they do not publically broadcast themselves to the world. Two, even if someone posts them, you are still able to play the "dumb kid doing something dumb" and move on. And the obvious answer is a simple warning to your teens that hey, this may seem like a funny idea but you need to understand that someone you may not intend on seeing it, may see it and that once you send out a photo, it is literally out of your control who sees it. To me, then, this is not another sign of the decay of our society, but an additional 30 second sidebar to the "talk" we inevitably have to give our kids. In a sense it is sad because it means our kids may have lost some freedom to be idiots but in another, I get closer to being able to push Lily to becoming a nun (cause this type of thing never happens in the sisterhood)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* &lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2008/CRIME/06/04/naked.teens.ap/index.html?eref=rss_tech"&gt;http://www.cnn.com/2008/CRIME/06/04/naked.teens.ap/index.html?eref=rss_tech&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-6036981999217792681?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6036981999217792681'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6036981999217792681'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/06/teens-doing-dumb-things-teens-do.html' title='Teens Doing the Dumb Things Teens Do'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-3710540746056335072</id><published>2008-06-03T23:02:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T23:04:43.491+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Looking Through You</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SEWxdy-58XI/AAAAAAAABxY/3ykI7IU7VFY/s1600-h/black+roses.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sometimes I wish this blog was read by more then a few people… because then pieces like this could serve as…you know… some sort of purpose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Periodically, I have seen women give another woman a dozen black roses for her 40th birthday. Well can I tell you something… that’s lame… and stupid… and petty. There is absolutely nothing funny about it. Sure, the woman may play it off as funny, but she’s pretending. If you are part of the group playing this little prank, you’re small-minded, trivial and fooling no one. You’re just mean.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, don’t send the stupid black roses because people see right through you. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SEWx1SJFCUI/AAAAAAAABxg/9zsT7xdFLAI/s1600-h/black+roses.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5207764073084946754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SEWx1SJFCUI/AAAAAAAABxg/9zsT7xdFLAI/s200/black+roses.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-3710540746056335072?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3710540746056335072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3710540746056335072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-looking-through-you.html' title='I&apos;m Looking Through You'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SEWx1SJFCUI/AAAAAAAABxg/9zsT7xdFLAI/s72-c/black+roses.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-3454242593900895052</id><published>2008-05-30T12:14:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T12:24:06.728+02:00</updated><title type='text'>Reason No. 431 Why I Like Living in Belgium</title><content type='html'>As Bunny said the other day, while we scarfed down seven piping hot beignets, "You can't really go wrong in a country that knows 17 different ways to fry dough and douse it with sugar."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SD_Vni51QLI/AAAAAAAABxQ/a2q3QpFlaLE/s1600-h/piping_hot_beignets.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206114569624567986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SD_Vni51QLI/AAAAAAAABxQ/a2q3QpFlaLE/s320/piping_hot_beignets.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SD_UnC51QKI/AAAAAAAABxI/nJg3wJFNavo/s1600-h/piping_hot_beignets.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-3454242593900895052?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3454242593900895052'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3454242593900895052'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/05/reason-no-431-why-i-like-living-in.html' title='Reason No. 431 Why I Like Living in Belgium'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SD_Vni51QLI/AAAAAAAABxQ/a2q3QpFlaLE/s72-c/piping_hot_beignets.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-403657037921607767</id><published>2008-05-25T12:14:00.008+02:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T12:42:23.662+02:00</updated><title type='text'>The Opposite of Man</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SDlChi51QJI/AAAAAAAABxA/MzR6RtuAttg/s1600-h/amy+tan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204263988475805842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SDlChi51QJI/AAAAAAAABxA/MzR6RtuAttg/s320/amy+tan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I borrowed a book from my work's library, Amy Tan's &lt;u&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Opposite of Fate&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/u&gt; and began reading it. After a few chapters I stopped and began reading something else for no reason I can recall. A couple of months later, Minna picked it up and read it straight through. You can tell Minna loves a book because she audibly gasps and ooohs throughout.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did you like this book?" Minna asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I didn't finish it." I replied.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why not!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't remember." I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Was it turning you into a woman?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Touche.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now, I am reading &lt;u&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Opposite of Fate&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/u&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-403657037921607767?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/403657037921607767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/403657037921607767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/05/opposite-of-man.html' title='The Opposite of Man'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/SDlChi51QJI/AAAAAAAABxA/MzR6RtuAttg/s72-c/amy+tan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-4101940225896116116</id><published>2008-03-06T23:35:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T23:40:22.670+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ty Wenger Spills Mens' Secrets... And Then Goes Out &amp; Buys Himself A Backbone</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R9ByksnQ9zI/AAAAAAAABuI/kNzNiyWXtv0/s1600-h/makeitstop_raymond_355x259.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174761946625406770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R9ByksnQ9zI/AAAAAAAABuI/kNzNiyWXtv0/s400/makeitstop_raymond_355x259.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://men.webmd.com/features/11-dont-tell-the-wife-secrets-all-men-keep"&gt;http://men.webmd.com/features/11-dont-tell-the-wife-secrets-all-men-keep&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This link will bring you to a pretty little article entitled 11 Don’t Tell the Wife Secrets All Men Keep written by one Ty Wenger. Misogynistic spud that Ty is, I found the article too appalling to simply let it slide. And before anyone thinks I’m just writing this because currently a majority of my “readers” are women, well you’re wrong. TV shows a lot of comedies where at the end of the day, the “wives” laugh off their husbands shortcomings and act playfully insulted but not really when catching their husbands gawking at other women. It’s men just being men. You know what, those men are fags. Any man who cannot respect his wife let alone himself enough to control himself, is simply not a man. But before I continue my rant… let’s go through some of these absolutely fantastic words of wisdom from Ty Wenger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secret #1: Yes, we fall in lust 10 times a day -- but it doesn't mean we want to leave you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It just means we’re still 13 years old, think boobies are awesome and have the maturity of a sponge. Look, everyone can appreciate the beauty someone else has but there is a difference between being appreciative and turning it into lust. No, it is not cool to stare and it is disrespectful especially when you are with someone. Grow up Ty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secret #2: We actually do play golf to get away from you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nice. So you’re a dick and you’re proud of it. Fag. So, I wake up what I consider to be early, if Lily wakes up, I manage to bring her downstairs and get showered and dressed while watching and I actually get some food into her along with some milk while we sneak in some Bienvenue A Lazytown on the tube. Then I go to work. After work, I’m on baby watch to give Minna sometime to do her own thing and that lasts until Lily goes to bed. Would I rather be playing golf by myself? No. Why? Because I had a kid, I got married, to spend time with my kid and wife. Maybe I could make the argument that I want some time to play Nintendo baseball at night. But I have a couple of problems with that… one, we don’t have a Nintendo system, and two, I don’t want to be playing baseball and have the realization that I chose a video game over interacting with Lily while Cat’s In the Cradle plays in my head. Guess what, when you have a kid, you’ve decided to put just about everything on the back burner, and I can’t say I really miss anything I did before Lily was around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secret #3: We're unnerved by the notion of commitment, even after we've made one to you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think a lot of men mistake commitment for responsibility. By making the excuse that “we’re unnerved” by commitment, it kind of makes gawking at women ok or understandable. There is a period of time when you meet a woman, when you start going out, when you go steady, to when you ask her to marry you, to when you get married. There’s a lot of time there to realize you made a wrong choice or a bad move. So, no, Ty, most men are not unnerved… at least those of us that made our decisions to marry based on our true feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secret #4: Earning money makes us feel important&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow, Ty, you just soooooo read me like a book. You know what makes me feel important, when I realize I am giving something to my family. My wife could make more money then me, I could be a stay at home Dad, but if I am giving something, money, work, help, support, teaching, nurturing, then guess what… I’m important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secret #5: Though we often protest, we actually enjoy fixing things around the house&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes Ty, life is just like Everybody Loves Raymond and the World According to Jim. I don’t assume my wife LOVES washing the dishes but she does them because they need to be done. There was a great line in the movie Knocked Up when one of the men realized that life was like Everybody Loves Raymond but without the laugh track. And it’s true and I can speak from my own experience. When I was really little, I had this issue with slow muscle development which among other things affected my ability to speak and be understood… therefore I was reluctant to interact with other kids. So my doctor told my mom to sit me in front of the tv so I could watch people interact. Wow, this must have been right before he accepted his Noble Prize. So I grew up expecting to hear a laugh track after every one liner I gave. I still do. So Bunny gets angry with me because I don’t do something I said I would around the house, so I make a joke. But guess what… Bunny doesn’t laugh or shake her head to say “men” while a tv audience laughs. Nope, Bunny just gets madder and now I can tack on “not taking her seriously” to my other charges. So you know what Ty, grow up and don’t even protest. Just do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secret #6: We like it when you mother us, but we're terrified that you'll become your mother&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Look, I love it when Bunny does something for me. But I can differentiate between her and my mother or her mother. And can you really call yourself a man, Ty, when you admit to worrying about something completely illogical?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secret #7: Every year we love you more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think this was the part of the article when Ty realized he had to go home after he was done writing the article. So I will give him a pass on this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secret #8: We don't really understand what you're talking about&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow, Ty goes right back to the Everybody Loves Raymond school of thought. If you don’t understand then you are not listening. What I have noticed about most women is, they tend to be pretty direct about what you have done or not done that has pissed them off. So, to play like you don’t understand means you don’t want to accept what they are saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secret #9: We are terrified when you drive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to assume at this point, Ty realized, hey, maybe if I sleep on the couch, I can play a full season of Xbox Football before I crash and then I will make up with my wife in the morning. Ty, how old are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secret #10: We'll always wish we were 25 again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I was 25, I lived in a basement apartment in Flatbush with a gay 350 pound blackman who asked me to indulge on Christmas Eve. No, I don’t wish I was 25. I’m very happy being 36.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Secret #11: Give us an inch and we'll give you a lifetime&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow, Ty introduces compromise at the end. Not very novel but I can let it slide. But he ruins it talking about going on separate vacations. I can do pretty much what I want when I want to do it. The only difference between when I was single and now, is I let someone know what I want to do. It’s called realizing your married and that someone else might actually care about what’s going on. Deal with it. Don’t belittle men because you’re not man enough to talk with your wife.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-4101940225896116116?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/4101940225896116116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/4101940225896116116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/03/ty-wenger-spills-mens-secrets-and-then.html' title='Ty Wenger Spills Mens&apos; Secrets... And Then Goes Out &amp; Buys Himself A Backbone'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R9ByksnQ9zI/AAAAAAAABuI/kNzNiyWXtv0/s72-c/makeitstop_raymond_355x259.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-6929759483492377185</id><published>2008-02-28T23:25:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T23:31:07.715+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Statement Piece</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R8c1KTd6R6I/AAAAAAAABuA/70bxy02hAaA/s1600-h/AdamsA1981_87.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172161148198995874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R8c1KTd6R6I/AAAAAAAABuA/70bxy02hAaA/s400/AdamsA1981_87.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-6929759483492377185?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6929759483492377185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6929759483492377185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/02/statement-piece.html' title='Statement Piece'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R8c1KTd6R6I/AAAAAAAABuA/70bxy02hAaA/s72-c/AdamsA1981_87.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-903120284006782135</id><published>2008-02-21T22:45:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T22:48:19.214+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Be A Sad Cucumber</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R73xmjd6R5I/AAAAAAAABt4/aHfFxqV5Sgs/s1600-h/Me+a+very+sad+cucumber.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169553591949215634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R73xmjd6R5I/AAAAAAAABt4/aHfFxqV5Sgs/s400/Me+a+very+sad+cucumber.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going back to the drawing board, thinking of new stories, ideas, articles to write about. Keep looking soon for further updates.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-903120284006782135?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/903120284006782135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/903120284006782135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/02/dont-be-sad-cucumber.html' title='Don&apos;t Be A Sad Cucumber'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R73xmjd6R5I/AAAAAAAABt4/aHfFxqV5Sgs/s72-c/Me+a+very+sad+cucumber.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-4654277679809670705</id><published>2008-02-01T23:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T23:24:56.605+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Winning Endorsements?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R6OcG1qNySI/AAAAAAAABtw/QP_GARnKUL0/s1600-h/john_kerry_cheesesteak.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162141239194011938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R6OcG1qNySI/AAAAAAAABtw/QP_GARnKUL0/s400/john_kerry_cheesesteak.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Barack Obama, a candidate I actually like, made the news the past couple of weeks for winning both John Kerry and Edward Kennedy’s endorsement. The press made a big deal about how much this helps Obama and embarrasses Hillary Clinton (another candidate I like). The stories pressed the issue that Hillary and Bill spent several hours on the phone with Edward Kennedy trying to win his endorsement. In addition, almost at the same moment the press announced Rudy Giuliani was leaving the presidential race, they also reported he would be endorsing McCain in a huge win for him (John as opposed to Rudy). I mention all of this because I have a couple of questions… why are these “winning” endorsements and why are the candidates vying for them!? Edward Kennedy!? John Kerry!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let’s look at this a little bit more closely. Edward Kennedy, long time senator who is looked upon as not as bright or charismatic as his brothers Robert or John, infamous for his behavior at Chappaquiddick (when he drove a car off a bridge into a channel and swam to his own safety while leaving his passenger to die, no attempt to rescue) and then in the 90s when photos of him appeared wearing only a t-shirt, nothing else, drunk showed all over the media. He was also named in a sexual harassment suit involving his family. He’s made fun of constantly for his drinking. In 1980 he hurt his own Democratic Party’s and US President, Jimmy Carter, by running against him in the primaries. Carter already in trouble never got over the harm caused by that and even when Kennedy finally “endorsed” Carter, he refused to raise Carter’s hand, a move much reported upon by the press. Wow, all of this scream’s “winner” and someone you want to seek backing from, doesn’t it?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we got John Kerry. A decorated Vietnam veteran that allowed the Swift Boat group to derail his election for over three months before he actually fought back with… the truth. He mispronounced Lambeau field… in Green Bay. What else did he do… um… oh yeah, he LOST!? So Obama really gained something when someone who lost an election endorsed him!? Really?&lt;br /&gt;So my question is what are candidates really winning? Are there people out there that were really on the ledge and then when John Kerry offered his endorsement, they actually said, oh hey, if John Kerry’s going for Obama, he’s my man!? Really!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-4654277679809670705?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/4654277679809670705'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/4654277679809670705'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/02/winning-endorsements.html' title='Winning Endorsements?!'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R6OcG1qNySI/AAAAAAAABtw/QP_GARnKUL0/s72-c/john_kerry_cheesesteak.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-6448824673422307136</id><published>2008-01-30T22:14:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-30T23:18:12.697+01:00</updated><title type='text'>They Call Him... Patat</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-763b18af445aae94" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D763b18af445aae94%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329964544%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D54005195B7C1A92DAB44D5BE74E1BF46737B6624.5A221448518405E23C0AA138A50563959D534568%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D763b18af445aae94%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dc8Oysfz8bc3_3b85bN_swbZxRss&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v20.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D763b18af445aae94%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329964544%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D54005195B7C1A92DAB44D5BE74E1BF46737B6624.5A221448518405E23C0AA138A50563959D534568%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D763b18af445aae94%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dc8Oysfz8bc3_3b85bN_swbZxRss&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Bunny got a call today from Patat's owner (we'd still been referring to him as kittycat, cat or chatte). She'd seen our sign while putting up her own signs (she bought along a copy). So Patat (potato if you want the English translation). Both Bunny and I have mixed emotions about it. On one hand, we're super happy that Patat's owner was actually looking for her kitty but on the other, we began to get used to having a kitty around again. Even if he tried his best to trip me up each morning on the way to the shower after waking up when I haven't quite gotten my balance together. Patat also liked to hop in the shower with me (with water running and all). When at work, I'd get a call from Bunny one moment claiming that we were dropping the kitty off where we found him but an hour later call claiming we had a kitty for life. It seemed to be coming all together when even Buffy became best friends with Patat. Bunny was even coming close to wanting to name kitty Captain. Actually, Bunny was getting pretty close, I mean... Captain... Patat... that's getting pretty close without even knowing it. Fairly spot on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the owner called, came and picked up the kitty. Evidently, the owner always let the kitty out and kept her address taped around the collar, on the inside, with tape around it. Obviously the first place someone would look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the little kitty is gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He's gone, he's gone Oh, why Oh, why&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We better learn how to face it&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He's gone, he's gone Oh, why Oh, why&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We'd pay the devil to replace him&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He's gone, he's gone Oh, why What went wrong&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Actually, we'll probably just get another cat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-6448824673422307136?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=763b18af445aae94&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6448824673422307136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6448824673422307136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/they-call-him-patat.html' title='They Call Him... Patat'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-3429919976399197664</id><published>2008-01-28T22:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T22:54:43.077+01:00</updated><title type='text'>So...We have/had a cat/chatte</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R55PF1qNyRI/AAAAAAAABtQ/_MaLOndAB08/s1600-h/Chatte.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160649184735250706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R55PF1qNyRI/AAAAAAAABtQ/_MaLOndAB08/s400/Chatte.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, last night we were walking home from an awesome trek to the Woluwe Park with a quick stop by a little kiddie park when Bunny and I decided to stop at the bank to pick up some euros. I took Lily in with me while Bunny and Buffy hung out on a bench outside. We'd noticed a little kitty on our way into the bank and it was just walking around in front of an apartment building. The kitty walked up to Bunny and allowed petting. At this point, Bunny grew concerned about the cat being out at night by a very busy street. She and another woman examined the kitty to see if she had any identification (of course not - by the way, even if you keep your cat indoors, get a collar with a name on it - for just such a circumstance). The kitty was very clean, seems to have no weird issues but did not want to be held by anyone. After clawing its way to freedom, Bunny and I decided well, maybe the cat's owner allows the cat to roam free and that it wants to be outside. So we left the kitty and crossed the street to head towards the video store where I was hoping to rent either Les American Girls (Bring it On) or Le Comeback (Music &amp;amp; Lyrics). However, we would rent neither, because a moment after crossing the street and stopping at a restaurant to pick up a menu (which Bunny handed to me and I promptly lost - I don't know!?) we found hanging out by our feet, the same kitty. Well that was that, we grabbed the kitty, stopped at a nearby convenience store (there stores truly are convenient in Belgium as no stores are open on Sundays) to pick up Les Friskies and kitty litter. Once home, we quickly set up shop and watched the fun begin. Lily immediately fell in love with the kitty and the kitty loved Lily and was extremely tolerant of Lily's "petting" or as others may call it, playing the bongos. However, when the kitty did try to play with Lily by launching herself onto Lily's arm (or head), Lily made it clear that she was not amused. Buffy, who we assumed would love another chance to play with a kitty, surprised us by hiding under the couch (probably because this cat wants to play and can fight back). The interesting thing is, in Belgium, the law states if you find a lost pet, you need to report it. Well Bunny made some signs and posted them at the site/area where we found the kitty and also called the police. The police first stated that someone would come by to collect the kitty. Bunny called me at the office to report this and I must admit, it quickly got a bit dusty in my room. But it turns out, Bunny got a call a bit later from the local police who were supposed to come to fetch the kitty who offered a couple of brilliant suggestions like "let the cat outside, it will probably find its owner" or "hold onto it until the owner calls you". I wish I could make the first one up but it's true. Basically at this point, Bunny and I are kind of torn as to what to do. He's a sweet littly kitty but again, he's a kitty and doesn't know that little babies don't like to have clawed paws whipping around their faces and arms and that little puppies who try to talk a tough game don't like not being the rulers of the roost. We want to help the kitty but we don't want to put Lily or Buffy in harms way. So for now, we're playing the waiting game and I am going to forward copies of the sign to my workmates. I have missed having a kitty and he's a sweetie. But again, I don't want us to try and keep him if he can't be a little kitty here. So we'll see.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-3429919976399197664?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3429919976399197664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3429919976399197664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/sowe-havehad-catchatte.html' title='So...We have/had a cat/chatte'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R55PF1qNyRI/AAAAAAAABtQ/_MaLOndAB08/s72-c/Chatte.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-8069276505358277673</id><published>2008-01-25T00:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T00:30:09.685+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Beat By A Beat Writer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5kfeFqNyQI/AAAAAAAABtI/ahWQWT1X-lU/s1600-h/pabraham.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159189449905391874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5kfeFqNyQI/AAAAAAAABtI/ahWQWT1X-lU/s320/pabraham.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Peter Abraham is a beat writer for the Journal News in New Jersey. He covers the Yankees and I like his writing a lot. Additionally, Peter (he and I correspond via email now so I can call him Peter… I think…actually he wrote back to an email that I wrote…once) loves Bruce Springsteen and is a New England Patriots fan. So I decided to write him about a debate I have been having (mainly with myself) that really only concerns cities that have multiple teams in multiple sports. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let’s take New York City for instance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Baseball – New York Yankees &amp;amp; New York Mets (weak)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Basketball – New York Knicks &amp;amp; New Jersey Nets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hockey – New York Rangers &amp;amp; New York Islanders &amp;amp; New Jersey Devils&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Football – New York Giants &amp;amp; New York Jets&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My point is that most Yankee fans like the Rangers &amp;amp; the Giants &amp;amp; the Knicks while most Mets fans (weak) like the Nets &amp;amp; the Islanders &amp;amp; the Jets (weak). So, I decided to write Peter and see if he saw any correlation and whether or not he agreed. Here’s an unedited copy of my email to Mr. Abraham.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;From: &lt;a href="mailto:James.Holloway@lw.com"&gt;James.Holloway@lw.com&lt;/a&gt; [&lt;a href="mailto:James.Holloway@lw.com"&gt;James.Holloway@lw.com&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sent: Monday, January 21, 2008 7:42 AM&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To: Abraham, Peter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Subject: Question About Allegiance&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Your mentioning the upcoming Giants/Pats super bowl has bought anissue up I have long debated with my fellow NY fans/friends. The debate is on whether there is a corollary between which NY baseballteam you support and then which basketball/football team you support?The rule I have been taught is that if you are a Yankees fans, thenyou must be a Giants fan, and a Knicks fan, and a Rangers fan (if youwant to bring hockey into it).Alternatively, if you are a Mets fan (weak), then you must root forthe Jets, the Nets and the Islanders.I have followed this rule without question (although when Parcellscoached the Jets I did have some doubts) but is there anystrength/relevance to it?And if so, why?What do you think? I personally feel its valid. The Yankees, Knicks,Giants and Rangers have storied histories (which makes the Knickscurrent era so the more troubling to accept) while the Mets (weak),Jets, Nets, and Islanders seem to have had "miracle" seasons.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sincerely, James Holloway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nice letter right? To the point. And how would you think Mr. Abraham would respond to said email? He smacks me down!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-----Original Message-----&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;From: Abraham, Peter [mailto:&lt;a href="mailto:PABRAHAM@lohud.com"&gt;PABRAHAM@lohud.com&lt;/a&gt;]&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sent: Monday, January 21, 2008 5:59 PM&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To: Holloway, James (BR)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Subject: RE: Question About Allegiance&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't even follow hockey. I think anybody should be allowed to root for whoever they want. Group-think is a dangerous thing. Are wecommunists? Why does this even matter?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Pete Abraham&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Let’s break down his email a bit, shall we?&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t even follow hockey.” – Ok, Peter, I didn’t ask if YOU were a fan of hockey I am asking if as a sports writer in the New York area if he ever saw a relationship with what other teams Yankees-fans root for and what teams Mets fans (weak) root for in other sports.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;“I think anybody should be allowed to root for whoever they want.” – Yes, Peter, we are technically free to root for whatever team we want. But I happened to root for the Yankees, Rangers, Giants and Knicks and I know many people that root for the Mets (weak), Jets (weaker), Islanders and Nets. This was not about being forced to root for a team. Although when I was young, I once tried to watch a Phillies game and my brother John punched me in the arm to remind me that we rooted for the Yankees in our family. Maybe Peter’s an only child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Group-think is a dangerous thing.” Ok… we’re talking about sports right? Where/when did this become dangerous? I agree in other aspects, group-think is a dangerous thing… silent majorities, politics, terrorism, these things and group-think are problematic at best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Are we communists?” Well… no…we’re not…it was around this time that I think I caught Peter at a bad time. Maybe his Starbucks hazelnut latte was missing the whipped cream on top… maybe he saw the picture of Tom Brady in a walking cast…maybe, he just doesn’t like me. L&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;“Why does this even matter?” Wow… tell me how you really feel Peter? I did catch him at a bad time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Next time, I am going to write something nice about the Patriots and ask about Springsteen. Maybe that will win him over. One day, Peter, oh yes, one day, I will win you over! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-8069276505358277673?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8069276505358277673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8069276505358277673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/getting-beat-by-beat-writer.html' title='Getting Beat By A Beat Writer'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5kfeFqNyQI/AAAAAAAABtI/ahWQWT1X-lU/s72-c/pabraham.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-2742553966838620591</id><published>2008-01-24T21:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T23:07:32.009+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Little Fascists</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5kL01qNyPI/AAAAAAAABtA/f7TLJ29SIyA/s1600-h/petits+einstein.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159167850514860274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5kL01qNyPI/AAAAAAAABtA/f7TLJ29SIyA/s320/petits+einstein.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Les Petits Einstein (The Little Einsteins in English) are four children of Yuppies who in each episode (as seen on the Disney Channel) use a piece of art and classical music to solve all of life's problems. Now according to Wikipedia, “Yuppies (young urban professionals, or less commonly young upwardly-mobile professionals[1]) is a market segment whose consumers are characterized as self-reliant, financially secure individualists.[2] Since the late 1980s, the phrase affluent professionals has been used as a synonym, stripped of negative associations with the once-homogenous market. [3]”&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_edn1" name="_ednref1"&gt;[i]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These little smart-asses are surely children of the Yuppies. As Bunny says, this show is a Yuppies wet dream. And I am totally serious, at the beginning of each show, one of the little punks introduces a classical piece (Beethoven, Mozart, Grieg, Bach, you name it) and a piece of art (Munch, Dali, insert some hideous modern artist). During the episode the weasels travel the world in a flying machine that flies because the kids pat their legs and do other stunts (the fact that the show is interactive and makes the kids watching do minimal amounts of exercise is supposed to make up for the fact that your kid is watching a lot of TV). Worse than that, the kids end up in the painting (it almost always acts like a maze the kids have to maneuver through and that’s only because the painting is some modernist piece of crap by Marcel Duchamp).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course the worst part about the little narcissists is that they are interracially balanced. Little white boy, little white girl, little black boy, little Asian/Hispanic/Indian (I think they purposely leave it ambiguous) girl. The reason why this burns me is that the Yuppie parents watching this think they love it that their little social pariahs are watching a harmonious melting pot when the last thing they’d ever do is put their kids in a school where it was actually diversified. But I digress. Here are my top ten reasons for disliking this show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) The little snotty girl with the microphone. When the little rats come across a problem like a mountain they have to climb, or a toadstool they have to jump over, this wasp picks up a toy microphone and starts singing a song to the classical piece of the day. First of all, if there is one child’s toy I actually hate it’s the toy microphone. Why? Because each time a kid receives a toy microphone, it takes them all of five seconds to figure out how to place their mouth over the top of the microphone and then make a “WHOOOOOH” sound. This sound is funny for two seconds and then a moment later you take the microphone away from them. Then you secretly remove and hide the batteries so the kid can’t play with it again and you hope they forget about it. My brother’s brother-in-law once gave his son a toy microphone and my brother actually got pissed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) The false sense of reality it gives kids. Just wait until the day your car breaks down and your kid starts patting his legs shouting “Allegro!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Annie – Curse that damn microphone. I wish her parents would take her on a trip to Portugal. The moment the McCann story came out, you knew the parents were stupid Yuppies (Oh, let’s give the kids some Nyquil, put them to bed, and go to dinner and get trashed… who cares if we can’t even see our room from here). But I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Leo - is a six-year-old boy, the Little Einsteins leader, and the one who pilots Rocket.&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn2" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_edn2" name="_ednref2"&gt;[ii]&lt;/a&gt; He’s also a dork. TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP! TAP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) The website &lt;a href="http://www2.disney.fr/DisneyChannel/playhouse/littleeinsteins/"&gt;http://www2.disney.fr/DisneyChannel/playhouse/littleeinsteins/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Quincy – Because he plays so many instruments that I am sure little kids try one, discover it’s hard, and then give up because if it’s so easy for Quincy then it’s not worth it. Nice job Quincy. You prat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) June – Because she’s friends with one of Saturn’s rings.&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn3" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_edn3" name="_ednref3"&gt;[iii]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) The theme song (in the original English)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We're going on a trip in our favorite rocket ship&lt;br /&gt;Zooming through the sky,&lt;br /&gt;Little Einsteins&lt;br /&gt;Climb aboard, get ready to explore&lt;br /&gt;There's so much to&lt;br /&gt;find, Little Einsteins&lt;br /&gt;We're going on a mission, start the&lt;br /&gt;countdown&lt;br /&gt;5...4...3-2-1&lt;br /&gt;Everyone to rocket, rev it up&lt;br /&gt;now&lt;br /&gt;RRRRRRRRRRRRRRR&lt;br /&gt;We're going on a trip in our favorite rocket&lt;br /&gt;ship&lt;br /&gt;Zooming through the sky, Little Einsteins&lt;br /&gt;climb aboard, get ready to&lt;br /&gt;explore&lt;br /&gt;There's so much to find, Little Einsteins&lt;br /&gt;come On - Let's Go -&lt;br /&gt;Little Einsteins&lt;br /&gt;We need you, Little Einsteins – Yeah&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) The official philosophy behind the show. It makes me just batty to think of some couple in San Francisco reading this and smirking at each other because they are simply devine parents and what a wonderful world they’re introducing their son Baxter Charles Smith-Joney-Warner-Baggins to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;“The Philosophy Behind Little Einsteins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Start the countdown...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mission of Little Einsteins is to take preschoolers on exciting musical adventures set in the real world (and inside a few great pieces or art!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On each adventure, your children will help the Little Einsteins team solve an important mission, meet new friends, visit interesting destinations, learn about and make music, and laugh along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Music plays an essential role in each of the Little Einsteins adventures. As the lovable team sets out to complete each mission, classical music takes a special role that helps advance the story while setting the tone of each show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the very beginning of every show, preschoolers are encouraged to interact and collaborate with the Little Einsteins team in a fun-filled effort to achieve the goals of each mission. Whether it’s patting their laps to create more power for Rocket to blast off, or locating the footprints of a missing reindeer in the snow, your little one will be immersed visually and interactively in each mission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Einsteins encourages your child to investigate their own curiosity, helping develop a lifelong passion for discovery and learning. Appreciation of music and art are made fun and exciting as the team discovers the real world and interacts in a whole new way with music, art, nature and more.”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn4" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_edn4" name="_ednref4"&gt;&lt;em&gt;[iv]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) The Welcome to the Parents – Oh Look! We’re doing something important for our kids. Oh let’s buy the DVD to play in our BMW minivan on our next trip to the vineyards. Oh what wonderful parents we are!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Welcome Parents!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You and your children play an all-important role in the Little Einsteins missions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Einsteins is an interactive preschool franchise for three-to-six year olds that will encourage children to participate and become a part of every mission.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On each Little Einsteins adventure, the lovable Little Einsteins team takes preschoolers on the “ultimate field trip.” When they set out in their musical rocket ship on an important mission in the real world, your child is a part of the team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your child explores nature, dives into amazing works of art, while learning about animals, enjoying and making music right along with the Little Einsteins.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn5" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_edn5" name="_ednref5"&gt;&lt;em&gt;[v]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look, maybe I am overreacting a bit and the show isn’t that bad. But these kids are just irritating. Of course Lily loves it. But I figure if I force her to watch Bienvenue Lazytown then it’s only fair if I watch Les Petits Einsteins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ednref1" name="_edn1"&gt;[i]&lt;/a&gt; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yuppie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn2" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ednref2" name="_edn2"&gt;[ii]&lt;/a&gt; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Einsteins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn3" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ednref3" name="_edn3"&gt;[iii]&lt;/a&gt; http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Einsteins&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn4" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ednref4" name="_edn4"&gt;[iv]&lt;/a&gt; http://disney.go.com/littleeinsteins/parents/philosophy.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn5" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ednref5" name="_edn5"&gt;[v]&lt;/a&gt; http://disney.go.com/littleeinsteins/parents/parents.html&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-2742553966838620591?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/2742553966838620591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/2742553966838620591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/little-fascists.html' title='The Little Fascists'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5kL01qNyPI/AAAAAAAABtA/f7TLJ29SIyA/s72-c/petits+einstein.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-6400503631974839454</id><published>2008-01-24T21:24:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T21:42:09.354+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Eavesdropping On The Conversations of Women</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5j4EVqNyOI/AAAAAAAABs4/7tnt1nnq-cA/s1600-h/nytconstructionworkers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159146126570277090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5j4EVqNyOI/AAAAAAAABs4/7tnt1nnq-cA/s320/nytconstructionworkers.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So at work the other day, I am in one of the attorneys office installing a second monitor when one of the secretaries arrives in a huff. The secretaries sit in a bay with four desks, so the other three were at their desks when the fourth arrived and said, "Harumph! Men!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What happened?" said Marie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I was walking past the construction site," Diane began, "And the workers kept yelling things at me! I got so angry, tears were streaming down my face. I hate them!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh honey," said Michelle, "you can't get upset about that. 'Cause there's something worse."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What?" asked Diane.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"When they stop."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The others laughed knowingly. Then I made my error in judgement.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I laughed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cover blown, I walked out of the office to face four women staring at me accusingly. Yes, I was going to pay for the sins of a bunch of construction workers.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-6400503631974839454?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6400503631974839454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6400503631974839454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/eavesdropping-on-conversations-of-women.html' title='Eavesdropping On The Conversations of Women'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5j4EVqNyOI/AAAAAAAABs4/7tnt1nnq-cA/s72-c/nytconstructionworkers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-3508745263618353372</id><published>2008-01-24T17:56:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T18:06:35.196+01:00</updated><title type='text'>What Just A Darn Second... Do You Mean Someone Lied!?  I For One, Am Shocked!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5jEZ1qNyLI/AAAAAAAABsg/97HuhPRPquE/s1600-h/453px-George-W-Bush.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159089321332820146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5jEZ1qNyLI/AAAAAAAABsg/97HuhPRPquE/s320/453px-George-W-Bush.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, scanning the Yahoo news pages yesterday, I came across this selection. Actually, I do not present this as something newsworthy, I'm just pointing this out because this is the sort of thing I like to send a Bunny to get her nice and riled up. It is a sure fire way to get her 'umph up... and a whole lot of fun. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But seriously, what is the point in bringing something like this up.  I wonder if a lot of people think this war was a mistake even if Iraq did have W.M.D.s.  But I am not trying to start a fight or anything like that.  This is just kind of unnecessary at this point, in my humble opinion. &lt;div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Study: False statements preceded war&lt;br /&gt;By DOUGLASS K. DANIEL, Associated Press Writer Wed Jan 23, 6:43 AM ET&lt;br /&gt;A study by two nonprofit journalism organizations found that President Bush and top administration officials issued hundreds of false statements about the national security threat from Iraq in the two years following the 2001 terrorist attacks.&lt;br /&gt;The study concluded that the statements "were part of an orchestrated campaign that effectively galvanized public opinion and, in the process, led the nation to war under decidedly false pretenses."&lt;br /&gt;The study was posted Tuesday on the Web site of the Center for Public Integrity, which worked with the Fund for Independence in Journalism.&lt;br /&gt;White House spokesman Scott Stanzel did not comment on the merits of the study Tuesday night but reiterated the administration's position that the world community viewed Iraq's leader, Saddam Hussein, as a threat.&lt;br /&gt;"The actions taken in 2003 were based on the collective judgment of intelligence agencies around the world," Stanzel said.&lt;br /&gt;The study counted 935 false statements in the two-year period. It found that in speeches, briefings, interviews and other venues, Bush and administration officials stated unequivocally on at least 532 occasions that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction or was trying to produce or obtain them or had links to al-Qaida or both.&lt;br /&gt;"It is now beyond dispute that Iraq did not possess any weapons of mass destruction or have meaningful ties to al-Qaida," according to Charles Lewis and Mark Reading-Smith of the Fund for Independence in Journalism staff members, writing an overview of the study. "In short, the Bush administration led the nation to war on the basis of erroneous information that it methodically propagated and that culminated in military action against Iraq on March 19, 2003."&lt;br /&gt;Named in the study along with Bush were top officials of the administration during the period studied: Vice President Dick Cheney, national security adviser Condoleezza Rice, Defense Secretary Donald H. Rumsfeld, Secretary of State Colin Powell, Deputy Defense Secretary Paul Wolfowitz and White House press secretaries Ari Fleischer and Scott McClellan.&lt;br /&gt;Bush led with 259 false statements, 231 about weapons of mass destruction in Iraq and 28 about Iraq's links to al-Qaida, the study found. That was second only to Powell's 244 false statements about weapons of mass destruction in Iraq and 10 about Iraq and al-Qaida.&lt;br /&gt;The center said the study was based on a database created with public statements over the two years beginning on Sept. 11, 2001, and information from more than 25 government reports, books, articles, speeches and interviews.&lt;br /&gt;"The cumulative effect of these false statements — amplified by thousands of news stories and broadcasts — was massive, with the media coverage creating an almost impenetrable din for several critical months in the run-up to war," the study concluded.&lt;br /&gt;"Some journalists — indeed, even some entire news organizations — have since acknowledged that their coverage during those prewar months was far too deferential and uncritical. These mea culpas notwithstanding, much of the wall-to-wall media coverage provided additional, 'independent' validation of the Bush administration's false statements about Iraq," it said.&lt;br /&gt;___&lt;br /&gt;On the Net:&lt;br /&gt;Center For Public Integrity: &lt;a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://www.publicintegrity.org/default.aspx" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.publicintegrity.org/default.aspx&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fund For Independence in Journalism: &lt;a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://www.tfij.org/" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.tfij.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080123/ap_on_go_pr_wh/misinformation_study&amp;amp;printer=1;_ylt=Aj.kuwSGtTeWsXaucso7r.AGw_IE"&gt;http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080123/ap_on_go_pr_wh/misinformation_study&amp;amp;printer=1;_ylt=Aj.kuwSGtTeWsXaucso7r.AGw_IE&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-3508745263618353372?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3508745263618353372'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3508745263618353372'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/what-just-darn-second-do-you-mean.html' title='What Just A Darn Second... Do You Mean Someone Lied!?  I For One, Am Shocked!'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5jEZ1qNyLI/AAAAAAAABsg/97HuhPRPquE/s72-c/453px-George-W-Bush.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-6346952170317636882</id><published>2008-01-19T00:27:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T00:31:01.506+01:00</updated><title type='text'>That's Not Going To Beat Us</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5E2PPM6tlI/AAAAAAAABsY/uupRgnubkR0/s1600-h/scott-brosius-goes-deep.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156962683722577490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5E2PPM6tlI/AAAAAAAABsY/uupRgnubkR0/s400/scott-brosius-goes-deep.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday, I read a blog article discussing the World Series in 2001, which pitted the New York Yankees against the Arizona Diamond-Jacks (as Bunny once referred to them). Actually, I will start with that story. A couple of years ago, Minna and I were finishing shopping at the grocery store. When we passed one of those toy machines where you have to place the crane in the proper position to pick up a toy, Minna saw some sports pillows, and one of them being the Arizona Diamondbacks. “Oooh, I want that DiamondJacks pillow!” No sooner did Bunny say that then she caught her mistake and immediately turned to me and said, “Shut up! I know, I know! Shut up!” But it was too late and that name has stuck forever. But I digress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, anyway, the writer talked about the Yankees against the DiamondJacks and how pivotal the series was (the end of the Yankees Dynasty and the beginning of the Yankees journey into the abyss of yearly playoff failures). Technically, this is true, although I love to blame Torre, the over-rated players, and up until a month or so ago, Mariano Rivera. That’s right; I found a reason to be angry with only the greatest play-off reliever ever. That is how smart I am. Actually, to play Devil’s advocate, it really is Buster Olney’s fault. In his book, The Last Night of the Yankee Dynasty, he writes in the first chapter that after a near perfect motivational speech by one of the key Yankee officials, Rivera then added a bumbling speech at the end that according to Olney, took away all said motivation. Added onto of that, Rivera publically stated after the game that Scott Brosius went for a sure one out instead of going for a potential double-play. Although even though he may have said that, I fully acknowledge that news reporters often misrepresent the truth or exaggerate it. So that means that I am publically apologizing to Mariano Rivera for thinking poorly of him, the greatest reliever I’ve ever seen. If you’re keeping score that’s the second apology I have made in recent weeks to a Yankee. First, A-Rod, now Mariano. Could Jason Giambi be next? Even I don’t see that one happening. But as this article is not about apologies to Yankees I have had a grievance with, I digress. Cause this article is about the 2001 World Series and how much it means to me. You see, it only took me 410 words to get to the point.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can safely say that out of all of the World Series I remember seeing which involved the Yankees, the 2001 is my favorite by far. Thinking this, writing this, I even surprised myself because of course, they lost this World Series. However, compared to the ones they won (I am chiefly speaking about ’96, ’98, ’99, and 2000), I think the 2001 World Series, and playoffs for that matter had more memorable moments then practically the others combined. Think about it, for ’96, mainly, there’s the Leyritz homerun and Andy’s masterpiece (that’s a maybe). ’98, Tino’s grand slam, and Chuck ‘Block-head’ Knoblauch’s arguing the call in the Cleveland series. ’99, wow, this is tough as the main incident I remember is when Pete Rose was interviewed by Jim Gray. Gray kept going after him for too long about the gambling bit and the next game, a Yankees victory, Gray tried to interview Chad Curtis and Chad refused saying the Yankees as a team decided against speaking to him because of the Pete Rose interview. Other than that, I’m at a loss. ‘2000, well you got the Clemons throwing the bat at Piazza and then Luis Sojo’s game winning RBI. But 2001, wow, you have Tino’s 9th inning, two out, HR to tie the game punctuated by Jeter’s game ending HR. You have Brosius tying it up the next game, as well as the stadium chanting Paul O’Neil’s name. Even before you get to the World Series, you had Jeter’s flip&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_edn1" name="_ednref1"&gt;[i]&lt;/a&gt; to Posada to keep the A’s from scoring the tying run. Back to the World Series, you got game 7 with Roger and Curt Shilling pitching their guts out, Alphonso’s HR, and then Bob Brenly’s chilling (even Yankee fans have to admit it was a great speech) words to Curt after the Yankees lead, “We're gonna put Miguel on this guy here, get a fresh arm in here. Hell of an effort, Big Man. You're my hero. You're my hero. (Signalling for reliever) That ain't gonna beat us. We're gonna get that (run) back. That ain't gonna beat us, Big Man."&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn2" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_edn2" name="_ednref2"&gt;[ii]&lt;/a&gt; I remember as I was watching it on TV wishing Joe Torre could say things like that. And he ended up speaking the truth. And losing sucked. I felt like it would have meant everything if the Yankees won the World Series that year (after 9/11). But by the next morning, I already felt ok about it. It inspired me is some small way. The more I think about it, some of the great World Series moments of all time have been the exact same way. For 1975, the Redsox against the Reds, no one thinks about the Reds winning because the best moment was when Carlton Fisk hit the game winning home run in the 12th inning of game six. The Yankees had another similar moment in 2003. No one cares that the Marlins won the World Series, because everyone talks about the game 7 against the Sox. The Redsox winning the World Series in 2004 is an afterthought because of how they beat the Yankees when they had been down 3 games to none. I think there is something to this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ednref1" name="_edn1"&gt;[i]&lt;/a&gt; http://mlb.mlb.com/media/player/mp_tpl_silverlight.jsp?w=mms%3A//a1503.v108692.c10869.g.vm.akamaistream.net/7/1503/10869/v0001/mlb.download.akamai.com/10869/library/open/ds_history/01alds_gm3_nyaoak_350.wmv&amp;amp;pid=gen_video&amp;amp;cid=mlb&amp;amp;v=2&amp;amp;mType=w&amp;amp;urlstr=&amp;amp;mUrl=&amp;amp;type=v_free&amp;amp;_mp=1&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-endnote-id: edn2" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ednref2" name="_edn2"&gt;[ii]&lt;/a&gt; http://proxy.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?id=1273732&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-6346952170317636882?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6346952170317636882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6346952170317636882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/thats-not-going-to-beat-us.html' title='That&apos;s Not Going To Beat Us'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R5E2PPM6tlI/AAAAAAAABsY/uupRgnubkR0/s72-c/scott-brosius-goes-deep.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-8316204280274693637</id><published>2008-01-13T22:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T22:46:04.807+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Avert Your Eyes, Yours Truly Wore A Speedo Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4qFsvM6tkI/AAAAAAAABsQ/KvRZkl1bLdE/s1600-h/speedo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155079727110338114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4qFsvM6tkI/AAAAAAAABsQ/KvRZkl1bLdE/s400/speedo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yup, your eyes did not deceive you. I can't believe it either. The other day, Bunny made what seemed to me a very safe and simple proposal, "Hey let's go swimming this weekend." Sure, why not, I like swimming and it would be fun with Lily and all. Then our friends Ovidiu and Anka stop by with their kids yesterday and our swimming expedition is mentioned in passing and Ovidiu brings everything to a grinding halt when he says, "You know you can't wear swimming trunks, right?" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yeah," Ovidiu says, "You have to wear speedo. They don't allow the trunks.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What!?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, it turns out O was right. When we got to the swimming pool today that was a big picuture of swimming trunks crossed out. And there they were, behind the counter, a skimpy pair of speedos. Bunny was excited, I was freaked out but I knew I didn't have a choice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To offer you some background, I once had my mom make me a pair of clamdiggers and that's what I used to go swimming. If the shorts hang down to my knees then I am comfortable. Anything above and... I'm not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anyway, I survived, and I now own a speedo. Fortuntately, this is purely a "when in Rome" and I will go back to my clamdiggers. Thank God.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-8316204280274693637?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8316204280274693637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8316204280274693637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/avert-your-eyes-yours-truly-is-wore.html' title='Avert Your Eyes, Yours Truly Wore A Speedo Today'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4qFsvM6tkI/AAAAAAAABsQ/KvRZkl1bLdE/s72-c/speedo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-6021756805130705686</id><published>2008-01-12T23:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-13T00:03:06.027+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Fresh After A Recent Triumph, Yours Truly Eats Crow</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4lHHvM6tjI/AAAAAAAABsI/DPE4DnHJPiI/s1600-h/Alex+Rodriguez.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154729446757545522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4lHHvM6tjI/AAAAAAAABsI/DPE4DnHJPiI/s400/Alex+Rodriguez.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;An open letter to Alex Rodriguez, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear A-Rod, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You don't know me, but I am the Expatriate Yankee Fan. That probably means little to you (as most likely these words will mean the same) but I owe you an apology.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Late last year, I wrote what you basically could consider a "good riddance" article to you, written shortly after you opted out of your contract. The fact that you have come back, and that you have publically accepted responsibility for how the whole opt out occurred. I cannot begin to act like I was upset when the announcement interupted the World Series, because the baseball season officially ended for me after game for of the division series against the Indians. Anyway, I'm sorry for writing the article, and even more so, I apologize for the grief I have given you (albeit behind your back) since the playoffs of 2004. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since arriving in New York, you have excelled at 3rd base and you are the most prolific hitter playing the game. Yes, I was one who cringed at the problems you seem to have experienced during the playoffs. However, I realize how quickly I forgot that during the Yankees dynasty at the end of the 90s, each of the great Yankees (Bernie, Tino, Derek, Andy and Roger) faced times when they could not play to their real potential. So to single you out is wrong. Besides, while you are probably too decent a gentleman to say as much, you and I both know that Joe Torre blew the 2004 playoffs, Torre could never beat Mike Scoscia (2005) or the Angels, Torre played mind games with you in 2006 and he completely rewrote the lineup for the playoffs after having a winning set lineup during the last month of September. In 2007, Torre couldn't get off the bench when his ultra set up man was getting swarmed by gnats. Maybe I am not being fair to Mr. Torre, it can't be all his fault can it? But then, it couldn't be all your fault either then, huh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love the fact now that you are going to most likely be a Yankee throughout the end of your career and that you will be the most athletic, most necessary piece to the next World Series championship season since Joe Dimaggio. Another baseball great who was often maligned for his contract demands and dealt with too much pressure to bear for Yankee success.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So once more with feeling, I'm sorry. I look forward to the upcoming season. Sorry the Yankees did not get Mike Cameron. He would have been a huge lift in centerfield.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Most sincerely, James &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS... Cool shirt. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-6021756805130705686?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6021756805130705686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6021756805130705686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/fresh-after-recent-triumph-yours-truly.html' title='Fresh After A Recent Triumph, Yours Truly Eats Crow'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4lHHvM6tjI/AAAAAAAABsI/DPE4DnHJPiI/s72-c/Alex+Rodriguez.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-7810393061717300248</id><published>2008-01-12T23:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T23:41:05.789+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more into Lazytown</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4lBn_M6tiI/AAAAAAAABsA/qamcuzAY-MA/s1600-h/lazytown.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154723403738560034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4lBn_M6tiI/AAAAAAAABsA/qamcuzAY-MA/s400/lazytown.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It has been written and said the pen is mightier than the sword. Apparently, my blog about Lazytown has turned the opinions of Bunny around on the subject. Additionally, the links I included her actually made her like little Julianna Rose Mauriello (Stephanie).&lt;br /&gt;Within just a few minutes of this conversation, Bunny pegged nicknames for each of us:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me - Dadicus&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lily - Smarticus&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Buffy - Bufficus&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Bunny - Momicus Brief&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot tell you what I find more perplexing, that I talked Bunny into something that she'd openly hated, disliked and made me turn off if she was in the room, or the fact that it was my writing that did it. Man, knowing I have this kind of power, maybe I can talk my brother Dave into believing Pearl Jam is actually a really good band that doesn't simply rip off Who covers. I could talk Jennifer into realizing that Amy is the talented Indigo Girl. Then I would go for the holy grail... I could help Bunny see the beauty and poetry that defines the Beatles which makes them a better band then the Beach Boys. A guy can dream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When Stepanie of Lazytown heard of Bunny's conversion (by the way, Bunny is making me clarify that she is not saying she &lt;em&gt;likes &lt;/em&gt;Lazytown but that she &lt;em&gt;appreciates&lt;/em&gt; what they are trying to do... but then again, I went out to get lunch and came back and caught her listening to the Bing Bang song), she decided to give an impromptu performance, just for a Bunny. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enjoy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vF3XkLirDUY&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vF3XkLirDUY&amp;amp;feature=related&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-7810393061717300248?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7810393061717300248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7810393061717300248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/once-more-unto-breach-dear-friends-once.html' title='Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more into Lazytown'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4lBn_M6tiI/AAAAAAAABsA/qamcuzAY-MA/s72-c/lazytown.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-8154181651754251912</id><published>2008-01-12T01:03:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-12T01:09:39.820+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Bing Bang Digga Rigga Dong</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4gFJfM6thI/AAAAAAAABr4/EG4FAm33Z4I/s1600-h/bienvenue+lazytown.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154375434078172690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4gFJfM6thI/AAAAAAAABr4/EG4FAm33Z4I/s400/bienvenue+lazytown.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So Bunny and I watch A LOT of children’s programs now. That should be a surprise for absolutely no one who knows us since we have Lily… and because I’m me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course, watching children’s television in Belgium is not the same thing as back in the states. The obvious difference being that every single show we watch is French or dubbed in French. The fact that we watch Disney (which we never had back in California) is also a pretty noticeable difference. What surprises me, is that most of the Disney shows (even in French – a language I have not yet mastered) are actually enjoyable. The French is spoken clearly and a little bit slower then conversational French which means I can actually pick out a few words and phrases, like, ’On y va’ (let’s go) and ‘génial’(cool!) and ‘pense! pense! pense!’(think, think, think – a very cool song from Mes Amie Tigrou et Winnie – My Friends Tigger and Winnie).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sidetrack for a quick but true story. When my sister-in-law, Ying, first settled in the United States, my brother Dave purchase a TV for her to watch American shows and hopefully pick up some English. A few days later, David came home and ended up messing something up. Ying pointed at him and said, “Gilligan!” I love that story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, most of these Disney shows are pretty enjoyable. They attempt to engage the kids, ask them questions (and they look at the camera as if awaiting a response) and even get the kids to do some exercise (either via dancing or literally telling the kids to pat their legs, jump and wave their hands). Each one has songs they work into every episode. These are my favorite parts because that’s when Lily will stop whatever she’s doing and start dancing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So my favorite shows, in no particular order, are La Maison de Mickey (awesome dance at the end of each episode which I wait anxiously each time to watch Donald Duck’s dance), Les Drôles de Petits Bêtes (has this fantastically French ‘da de dum da de dum’ theme), Bali (great theme as well) and Les héros de Higglyville (the characters are a cross between nesting dolls and weeble wobbles). Each of these shows really deserves its own column and they might just get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course they are not all great. There’s a disturbing one about a little girl who rides a merry-go-round into another world with talking animals and a rabbit who constantly falls asleep and a character that looks like the bottom of a cork screw with a devil red face and bushy moustache. I find the show so disturbing I will not give you the name of it because I do not want to be responsible for giving you the heebies. And then, there’s Bienvenue à Lazytown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ahh, Bienvenue à Lazytown. First of all, by the end of this section, you will probably not believe that I actually dislike the show because I find so many things about it to be fascinating both in a bad way but some in a positively interesting way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;According to the official Disney website, “LazyTown is a funny, fresh show that blends movement, music, comedy and great storytelling in a colorful, fast-paced, upside down world. Stephanie comes to LazyTown from the outside world and meets a zany mix of kids and grownups, including the world’s laziest super-villain, Robbie Rotten. Fortunately for Stephanie, LazyTown is also home to Sportacus, an athletic super-hero who jumps, leaps and flips his way across LazyTown while helping Stephanie navigate between healthy lifestyles choices and easy but unhealthy ones. The unique look of LazyTown combines the worlds of CGI, puppets and live characters. The stories are always lively and entertaining, motivating solid values. LazyTown may have the laziest name on Earth, but it’s jam-packed with action, energy and a powerful message that tells all kids they have the will to succeed. LazyTown makes you feel good!”&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1"&gt;[1]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The part that kills me is the ‘unique look’. I was going to go into a bit more detail as to why I don’t like the show, and then I came across this review in IMDB (yes I actually performed solid research for this show) and his complaints are exactly the same as mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;“When I first spotted Lazytown on Nick, Jr. I could not stand it. The colors are vibrant, the pace fast, the plots silly. However, my sons, ages 2 and 4, were captivated. I gave it another chance for their sakes...and I am very glad I did. The superhero, Sportacus, eats healthy and exercises. The bad guy is Robbie Rotten, who is lazy and eats too much junk food. Although it is about as subtle as a freight train, it is surprising entertaining. My older son will actually say he doesn't want more candy because Sportacus says it's bad for him. Can't beat that for a 23 minute show! Personally, I love the focus on health in this show, but the music is a little too Euro dance club for me. It would be difficult for me to name other new shows that are getting as much attention from the preschool crowd as Lazytown and The Backyardigans.”&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftn2" name="_ftnref2"&gt;[2]&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While this reviewer ended liking the show, what he doesn’t like is what I don’t like; namely the fast pace (choppy, sped-up cameras, doesn’t stay on one shot for more than three quarters of a split second, and a ton of euro dance music. Also, the puppets are downright scary-looking and their supposed to be sweet little kids. Instead the look like rubber freaks with special needs. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then there’s the dubbing. Of course, the version I get is in French but Lazytown is shown all over the world and dubbed in several languages. But when I tried to confirm what the original language was, I ran into a problem. During the ending credits, I saw a ton of irregular names. They were definitely not American, not French, not even Flemish. So I went back to my research.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This time, my research actually included watching the Tony Danza Show. I hope now you appreciate the lengths I will go to inform you… my reader(s). So, Julianna Rose Mauriello plays Stephanie, the pink-haired “kid” on Lazytown. She’s from New York. However, the show is actually taped in Iceland&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftn3" name="_ftnref3"&gt;[3]&lt;/a&gt;. Which explained the funny names during the credits. The hero of the show, Sportacus, is actually played by famed Icelandish athlete, Magnús Scheving&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn4" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftn4" name="_ftnref4"&gt;[4]&lt;/a&gt;, who is also a “writer, world-class athlete, entrepreneur and producer.”&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn5" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftn5" name="_ftnref5"&gt;[5]&lt;/a&gt; I didn’t intend to include Magnûs’ entire biography but it’s a tantalizing read… so enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;“&lt;em&gt;Among his many sports awards and trophies he was the two-times European Champion of aerobics in 1995 and 1994 as well as silver medalist in the World Championships of aerobics in 1994 and following that was voted "Athlete of the Year" in Iceland. Furthermore, he was five times the Nordic Champion and eight times the Icelandic Champion. He successfully built up one of the most popular health &amp;amp; fitness clubs in Iceland and was the manager and owner of the club for five years. Most recently, in 2003, Scheving was voted the Marketing Man of the year 2003 by The Icelandic Marketing Association and Entrepreneur of the Year 2003 awarded by the Channel 2 Broadcaster and the Icelandic Financial Newspaper. Scheving is in high demand as a lecturer and public speaker both as an entrepreneur, athlete and entertainer. He has traveled worldwide holding over 3800 lectures in workshops and master classes on health. After extensive public speaking around the world, Magnus realized that wherever he went, parents always asked him the same basic questions about exercise and nutrition for children. He created LazyTown in 1991 in response to those questions, to help parents raise healthy kids, and to inspire kids to lead healthier lives. In the nine years since he introduced LazyTown by writing a bestselling book, Go, Go LazyTown!, Scheving has built LazyTown into a household name in his native Iceland, beloved by kids for its entertainment value and by parents for its healthy message. He has written a series of books for children based on his idea of LazyTown, all becoming bestsellers and selling out; these books have turned into theater musical plays written by Scheving himself. The Company has been delivering pro-health and positive social messages in an entertaining and nonviolent way and produces only material which can stand up to scrutiny from an artistic point of view as well as an ethical one. Magnus Scheving is the creator and spirit of LazyTown&lt;/em&gt;.”&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn6" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftn6" name="_ftnref6"&gt;[6]&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I digress… I actually do find the background behind almost a guilty-pleasure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I am going to wrap things up by including some links mainly from youtube. It includes a song that has grown on me while writing this article called Bing Bang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here’s the full English version - &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=moBnvpvL47Q"&gt;http://youtube.com/watch?v=moBnvpvL47Q&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here’s the Tony Danza Show - &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=zgmBO-ba6Nk"&gt;http://youtube.com/watch?v=zgmBO-ba6Nk&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here’s the “original” Icelandic - &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=8E_yBQhw7xM"&gt;http://youtube.com/watch?v=8E_yBQhw7xM&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here’s the French version we watch - &lt;a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=d9a1iy9n3LA"&gt;http://youtube.com/watch?v=d9a1iy9n3LA&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My brother Dave told me about this game he and his co-workers would play where they would hum a really annoying song so that it would stick in everyone elses head (I believe I wrote about this before)… anyway, play those links… and I will win. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1"&gt;[1]&lt;/a&gt; http://www.lazytown.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn2" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftnref2" name="_ftn2"&gt;[2]&lt;/a&gt; http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0396991/#comment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn3" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftnref3" name="_ftn3"&gt;[3]&lt;/a&gt; http://youtube.com/watch?v=zgmBO-ba6Nk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn4" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftnref4" name="_ftn4"&gt;[4]&lt;/a&gt; http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0396991/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn5" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftnref5" name="_ftn5"&gt;[5]&lt;/a&gt; http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1551787/bio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn6" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=7803766691151500318#_ftnref6" name="_ftn6"&gt;[6]&lt;/a&gt; http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1551787/bio&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-8154181651754251912?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8154181651754251912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8154181651754251912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/bing-bang-digga-rigga-dong.html' title='Bing Bang Digga Rigga Dong'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4gFJfM6thI/AAAAAAAABr4/EG4FAm33Z4I/s72-c/bienvenue+lazytown.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-3920410453517679628</id><published>2008-01-11T23:03:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T23:03:54.845+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dave? Dave's not here!</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt;	&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49183866@N00/2186338386/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2245/2186338386_0ffbff4a21.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49183866@N00/2186338386/"&gt;Cheech &amp;amp; Chong&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/49183866@N00/"&gt;jameshholloway&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;				&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;	Today, a news item came out reporting that Bank of America had purchased Countrywide for $4 billion dollars.  Countrywide was the mortgage company we had used for our home in La Habra.  Shortly after I read the article, a brilliant idea came to mind.  Now, it’s too late for Bunny and me as we have already sold our home, thus closing our account with Countrywide.  But for all you homeowners out there with Countrywide as your mortgage company, hear me out… you don’t have a mortgage with Countrywide.  That’s right, you don’t.  Stop making your payments.  When Bank of America calls you regarding your late/non-payment, imagine the following conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bank of America Operator (BAO) –  “Hello Mr. Johnson.  I am calling on behalf of Bank of America regarding your mortgage payment that is past due.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You – “I’m sorry, you must be mistaken, I don’t have a mortgage with Bank of America.  I have never had a mortgage with Bank of America.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAO – “Actually, Mr. Johnson, Bank of America purchased Countrywide with holds your mortgage.  Again, I need to discuss your overdue payment.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You – “Countrywide?  Why they’re not even a company.  How could I possibly have an account with a company that does not exist?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAO – (getting exasperated) “Yes, Mr. Johnson.  Countrywide was a company that you currently have a mortgage with… Bank of America did purchase Countrywide, so now your account has been transferred to us.  Now about your payment, we can arrange a plan to catch you up…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You – “Oh you don’t have to worry about me catching up… because I don’t have an account with Bank of America.  I never opened a mortgage with Bank of America.  Therefore, I have no payments to catch up on.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAO – “I’m sorry sir.  Maybe I’m making myself misunderstood… you had an account with Countrywide…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You – “You mean an account with a company that doesn’t exist… Maybe it is I who should be sorry for you.  If you think it’s possible for someone to set up a mortgage with a company that doesn’t exist, then I think you need some time off.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAO – “Ok, Mr. Johnson, enough is enough.  You opened an account with Countrywide before the company was purchased by my company, Bank of America because Countrywide was having problems.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You – “So Bank of America purchased Countrywide, because Countrywide was having a lot of problems because they’d given out too many loans to people who couldn’t possibly afford to make the monthly payments… and since Countrywide wasn’t able to get people to make their payments, you thought you’d spend $4 billion dollars to purchase a near bankrupt company, take over the accounts, so that the old Countrywide customers could not make their monthly payments to you?  Now that’s something.  And you’re saying that I had an account with Countrywide, which is no longer a company, and that the money I owed Countrywide, I now owe Bank of America.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BAO – (Barely containing self) Yes, Mr. Johnson!  You owe Bank of America $1,250 dollars!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You – (completely calm) I’m afraid you must be mistaken, I don’t have an account with Bank of America.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This could work... couldn't it?  Even if it couldn't, how fun would it be to have hundreds, thousands of people using the same argument!?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-3920410453517679628?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3920410453517679628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3920410453517679628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/dave-dave-not-here.html' title='Dave? Dave&amp;#39;s not here!'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2245/2186338386_0ffbff4a21_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-9125898193850774172</id><published>2008-01-10T22:58:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T22:58:59.704+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Nous ne voulons pas d'un monde où la certitude de ne pas mourir de faim
s'échange contre le risque de mourir d'ennui.</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt;	&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49183866@N00/2183308441/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2318/2183308441_60b9e10972.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49183866@N00/2183308441/"&gt;world6&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/49183866@N00/"&gt;jameshholloway&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;				&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;	According to Wikipedia, this translates to "We want nothing of a world in which the certainty of not dying from hunger comes in exchange for the risk of dying from boredom."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked up May 68 because several magazines here in Belgium (and I assume throughout other parts of Europe) are offering special editions celebrating the 40th anniversary of the protests.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's not a lot I have to add at this point but I will post some of my favorite slogans and facts that came or were inspired by this event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soyez réalistes, demandez l'impossible. &lt;br /&gt;Be realistic, ask for the impossible. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On achète ton bonheur. Vole-le. &lt;br /&gt;They buy your happiness. Steal it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Il est interdit d'interdire. &lt;br /&gt;It is forbidden to forbid. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;La révolution est incroyable parce que vraie. &lt;br /&gt;The revolution is unbelievable because it's real.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-9125898193850774172?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/9125898193850774172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/9125898193850774172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/nous-ne-voulons-pas-d-monde-o-la.html' title='Nous ne voulons pas d&amp;#39;un monde où la certitude de ne pas mourir de faim&#xA;s&amp;#39;échange contre le risque de mourir d&amp;#39;ennui.'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2318/2183308441_60b9e10972_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-1673780961206838414</id><published>2008-01-10T22:29:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T22:29:24.883+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Driven then taken...</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt;	&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49183866@N00/2184040024/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2394/2184040024_f3a8b7b3ec.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49183866@N00/2184040024/"&gt;driven derek jeter&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/49183866@N00/"&gt;jameshholloway&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;				&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;	Driven was the "working" title of U2's album that turned out to be called All That You Can't Leave Behind.  When it was no longer called Driven I decided that would be the title of my first record (still in the planning stages).  Now Derek has a new cologne out called Driven and it's such a no brainer I can't believe I cannot believe it didn't come out before.  Is it wrong that I am hoping my father still has conections with Avon (the company he used to work for) so I can get a free bottle.  It's almost like the time when I had to hide the fact that I wanted to buy a Ricky Martin single (so sue me).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-1673780961206838414?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1673780961206838414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1673780961206838414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/driven-then-taken.html' title='Driven then taken...'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2394/2184040024_f3a8b7b3ec_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-2590284675434405157</id><published>2008-01-10T22:07:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T22:07:48.629+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking In A Game</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt;	&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49183866@N00/2023677654/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2407/2023677654_5ab1afffbd.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/49183866@N00/2023677654/"&gt;James&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/49183866@N00/"&gt;jameshholloway&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;				&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;	This was back in early 2001, in the Sky Dome in Toronto.  Great trip.  It was sort of a second honeymoon.  Bunny and I had driven up from NYC, stopping in Niagara Falls along the way.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-2590284675434405157?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/2590284675434405157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/2590284675434405157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/taking-in-game.html' title='Taking In A Game'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2407/2023677654_5ab1afffbd_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-8099676475926167772</id><published>2008-01-10T00:40:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T01:17:42.596+01:00</updated><title type='text'>My Favorite Yankee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4VkGvM6tgI/AAAAAAAABrw/StRDlKFkX5U/s1600-h/Joba+Chamberlain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153635415508039170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4VkGvM6tgI/AAAAAAAABrw/StRDlKFkX5U/s400/Joba+Chamberlain.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span xmlns=""&gt;Early this year, I had to try really really hard NOT to get excited about Joba. All of the musings of various sports writers attested that his rapid rise through the minor leagues was because he was, to use a cliché, the "real deal". This worried me rather than excited me because this normally meant I would hear how wonderful a player he was and then in July, he'd be traded for a starting pitcher that would not survive past the year. But then I realized the Yankees were holding onto him. When he reached the majors, he pitched lights out and was truly an ace set-up to Mariano. The Yankee relievers could walk with a swagger again. Even better, Joba is a solid man with a tremendous father and he's American Indian to boot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So complete has my faith been in Joba that when he threw the wild pitches against the Indians in the playoffs, I never had a doubt the blame rested in Torre not him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Another reason I like Joba is related in this story found on Wikipedia. "According to Yankees announcer Michael Kay, Joba wears the number 62 in honor of his best friend and childhood teammate who wore the number 8 and died from brain cancer. Throughout his minor league career, he has always worn a number in which the digits added up to eight (e.g. 62: 6 + 2 = 8) even when he hasn't asked for it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Joba also performs a private prayer ritual each time he takes the mound. He does it while Motley Crue's &lt;em&gt;Shout At The Devil &lt;/em&gt;blares in the background. And anyone who could get me to rediscover Motley Crue has to be special.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-8099676475926167772?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8099676475926167772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8099676475926167772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-favorite-yankee.html' title='My Favorite Yankee'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4VkGvM6tgI/AAAAAAAABrw/StRDlKFkX5U/s72-c/Joba+Chamberlain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-6650287420210510152</id><published>2008-01-10T00:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T00:12:07.740+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Expecting The Best… &amp; Whether or Not There Is Anything Wrong With That…</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4VUvfM6tMI/AAAAAAAABMs/ecBRXCjAsWE/s1600-h/derek+stands.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153618523401663682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4VUvfM6tMI/AAAAAAAABMs/ecBRXCjAsWE/s400/derek+stands.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aid, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- Henry David Thoreau: &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One thing, among many, that Yankee fans hold over all other fans is the expectation that the Yankees could, would and should do well. This is an important distinction. Having lived in New York City, San Diego, Los Angeles, I noticed that the non-Yankee team fans always HOPED their team did well. The Met fans were the worst at hoping. I remember attending some Met games when the video screens would show the Yankee logo blowing up to smithereens along with the Darth Vadar music from the Empire Strikes Back playing and the Met fans would nuts. My issue with this, at those games, the Mets weren’t playing the Yankees. When I worked in New York, a co-worker asked another co-worker who was a Mets fan what she thought about the Yankees. And she proceeded to give the well known list including; spends too much money, buys the World Series, George Steinbrenner, etc. Then the same co-worker turned to me and asked me what Yankee fans think about the Mets. I replied, “We don’t.” In San Diego, fans were just happy to be at the game. If the Padres did well, all the better but if not, no matter. I went to one Dodger game and I will never make that mistake again. In the 7th inning, literally half the stadium emptied out… during a tie game…with playoff implications… with the Dodgers at bat. I have never gotten over that. And it hasn’t changed. All but one Angel game I attended were when the Yankees were in town and that was always fun because over half the stadium would be filled with transplanted Yankee fans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;During the Dynasty years, this is really what set the Yankees fans apart, we didn’t think about other teams and I don’t know if we still do. Yankee fans want the Yankees to play well enough that we don’t have to worry about how other teams are playing or have the decision of whether or not we make the playoffs depend on how other teams do. That’s why 2007 was a weird year for me because I had to pay attention to the wild card race since early May. So again, Yankee fans expect the Yankees to do well. That’s why there is such a thing as the Bronx cheer. If the fans don’t see a player putting it all out there, they let them hear about it. Now, that is not to say that these same fans do not make errors in judgment (when they booed Jeter – Derek should never EVER be booed – that was crass and stupid) or take it too far (A-rod – that was people jumping on the bandwagon). Now let me speak personally for a moment. I do not expect the Yankees to win the World Series every year. That’s not realistic. However, I do want management to field a competitive team and the players to play to their best abilities with a chance to make it to the World Series every year. I can prove this by stating my favorite recent World Series by far was 2001, which the Yankees lost. However it had more memorable games and moments then the 98, 99 and 2000 series combined. But booing Yankees when they are trying… that is lame and shameful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, I used to (and still do) blame certain Yankees for playoff failures and I do have to question myself whether or not I am right. Here are some examples:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Game 7 – World Series against the Diamjacks (as Bunny refers to them) – 2001: Mariano Rivera – Now I don’t necessarily blame him for blowing the 9th but I have blamed him (and still do) for taking a shot at Scott Brosius for not going for a double play. To me, that just went against team play. I was always taught to look at what you do and don’t contribute to a game and not worry about what others do. Anyway, I also have always wished Joe Torre didn’t have the Yankees bring their infield in. If Derek had been playing his regular depth, that Luis Gonzalez bloop would have been caught.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Game 2 – American League Championship Series against the Indians - 1998: The Blockhead play when Chuck Knoblauch argued the batter interfered with the thrown ball instead of grabbing the ball and halting the play wild 57 thousand fans screamed at him… actually that’s pretty funny since it happened in New York.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Game 2 – American League Division Series against the Indians – 2007: The “Bugged” game. This is all Joe Torre. Your ace set-up pitcher is being attacked by a swarm of insects and the trainers have to go out and douse him with repellant… and you don’t even think about asking the umpires to halt the game. This was when I truly decided it was time to end the Torre-era. But to be fair, I have been ready to end the Torre-era since 2004 when Joe showed he could no longer manage a bullpen. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have loved having someone like George Steinbrenner as the owner of the Yankees simply because he’s willing and he truly desires to put the best team out on the field. Now sometimes this has resulted in him making baseball decisions that have been less then wise (trading talent for past prime, trading Wells for Roger, bringing Wells back, overruling moving Contreras to the minors, etc) but he’s always made moves towards bringing the Yankees closer to the World Series and closer to being the best. And the proof is that the Yankees have been in the playoffs every year since 1995 (and would have been 1994 if a strike hadn’t shortened the season).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;In wrapping up, let me restate that in baseball, only Yankee fans expect the best from their team. In life, the people who achieve more, succeed more, attain more, always have expected more from themselves then anyone, which is one of the primary factors in reaching high levels of excellence. And if that is true, then it is only right, that someone who wishes to achieve success in their own life, would only choose a team (to root for) who shares a similar objective. True achievers do not hope for success, they work/expect/fight for nothing less. That doesn’t mean they always succeed, but it does mean they have the right mindset. And that is why I can only root for the Yankees.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-6650287420210510152?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6650287420210510152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6650287420210510152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/expecting-best-whether-or-not-there-is.html' title='Expecting The Best… &amp; Whether or Not There Is Anything Wrong With That…'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4VUvfM6tMI/AAAAAAAABMs/ecBRXCjAsWE/s72-c/derek+stands.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-3314197392589925103</id><published>2008-01-09T22:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T23:10:29.964+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Current State of the Yankees</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4VCc_M6tLI/AAAAAAAABMg/svZ_ifNhzk8/s1600-h/alex.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153598414364783794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4VCc_M6tLI/AAAAAAAABMg/svZ_ifNhzk8/s320/alex.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ok, here are some prospective line-ups for the 2008 Yankees: &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now please note - this is done without proof or a whole lot of research or in regards of untradeable contracts. But also, if Yankees are willing to spend 140 million on a pitcher they don’t truly need (do you sense that I don't want the Yankees to get Johan - which means you might as well add him to the rotation), let’s assume they would be willing to eat some salary as well, if necessary&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;If season started today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;1. 1st Base - Shelley Duncan&lt;br /&gt;2. 2nd Base - Robinson Cano&lt;br /&gt;3. 3rd Base - Alex Rodriguez&lt;br /&gt;4. Shortstop - Derek Jeter&lt;br /&gt;5. 1st C - Jorge Posada&lt;br /&gt;6. LF – Hideki Matsui&lt;br /&gt;7. CF - Johnny Damon&lt;br /&gt;8. RF - Bobby Abreu&lt;br /&gt;9. DH - Jason Giambi&lt;br /&gt;10. 2nd C - Jose Molina&lt;br /&gt;11. OF - Melky Cabrera&lt;br /&gt;12. UT - Wilson Betemit&lt;br /&gt;13. INF – Nick Green&lt;br /&gt;14. 1st Pitcher - Chien-Ming Wang&lt;br /&gt;15. 2nd Pitcher - Phil Hughes&lt;br /&gt;16. 3rd Pitcher - Andy Pettitte&lt;br /&gt;17. 4th Pitcher - Ian Kennedy&lt;br /&gt;18. 5th Pitcher - Mike Mussina&lt;br /&gt;19. MR - Kei Igawa&lt;br /&gt;20. MR - Jose Veras&lt;br /&gt;21. MR - Humberto Sanchez&lt;br /&gt;22. MR - Kyle Farnsworth&lt;br /&gt;23. Set Up - LaTroy Hawkins&lt;br /&gt;24. Set Up - Joba Chamberlain&lt;br /&gt;25. Closer - Mariano Rivera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I actually really like this line-up. I have no doubt in my mind that by July, the Yankees will have a new first baseman (whether it's a Mientkiewicz, or a Teixeira I don't know but their will be a new one). My belief is that Joba will start in the beginning of the season but Joe Girardi will realize that Joba truly is needed as the ultimate set-up man. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;If I could realistically choose and the season started today &lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. 1st Base - Doug Mientkiewicz - The only major difference&lt;br /&gt;2. 2nd Base - Robinson Cano&lt;br /&gt;3. 3rd Base - Alex Rodriguez&lt;br /&gt;4. Shortstop - Derek Jeter&lt;br /&gt;5. 1st C - Jorge Posada&lt;br /&gt;6. LF – Hideki Matsui&lt;br /&gt;7. CF - Johnny Damon&lt;br /&gt;8. RF - Bobby Abreu&lt;br /&gt;9. DH - Jason Giambi&lt;br /&gt;10. 2nd C - Jose Molina&lt;br /&gt;11. OF - Melky Cabrera&lt;br /&gt;12. UT - Wilson Betemit&lt;br /&gt;13. INF – Shelley Duncan&lt;br /&gt;14. 1st Pitcher - Chien-Ming Wang&lt;br /&gt;15. 2nd Pitcher - Phil Hughes&lt;br /&gt;16. 3rd Pitcher - Andy Pettitte&lt;br /&gt;17. 4th Pitcher - Ian Kennedy&lt;br /&gt;18. 5th Pitcher - Mike Mussina&lt;br /&gt;19. MR - Kei Igawa&lt;br /&gt;20. MR - Jose Veras&lt;br /&gt;21. MR - Humberto Sanchez&lt;br /&gt;22. MR - Kyle Farnsworth&lt;br /&gt;23. Set Up - LaTroy Hawkins&lt;br /&gt;24. Set Up - Joba Chamberlain&lt;br /&gt;25. Closer - Mariano Rivera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;If reality was like my Nintendo 64 Yankee team... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. 1st Base/Set Up Pitcher – James Holloway&lt;br /&gt;2. 2nd Base - Robinson Cano&lt;br /&gt;3. 3rd Base - Alex Rodriguez&lt;br /&gt;4. Shortstop - Derek Jeter&lt;br /&gt;5. 1st C - Jorge Posada&lt;br /&gt;6. LF – Hideki Matsui&lt;br /&gt;7. CF – Carlos Beltran&lt;br /&gt;8. RF - Bobby Abreu&lt;br /&gt;9. DH - Johnny Damon&lt;br /&gt;10. 2nd C - Jose Molina&lt;br /&gt;11. INF – Aaron Boone&lt;br /&gt;12. UT - Wilson Betemit&lt;br /&gt;13. INF – Nick Johnson&lt;br /&gt;14. OUT – Bernie Williams&lt;br /&gt;15. 1st Pitcher - Chien-Ming Wang&lt;br /&gt;16. 2nd Pitcher - Phil Hughes&lt;br /&gt;17. 3rd Pitcher - Andy Pettitte&lt;br /&gt;18. 4th Pitcher - Ian Kennedy&lt;br /&gt;19. 5th Pitcher - Mike Mussina&lt;br /&gt;20. MR - Kei Igawa&lt;br /&gt;21. MR - Humberto Sanchez&lt;br /&gt;22. MR - Kyle Farnsworth&lt;br /&gt;23. MR - LaTroy Hawkins&lt;br /&gt;24. Set Up - Joba Chamberlain Closer - Mariano Rivera &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You see, the Yankees should never have let Aaron Boone go, he could have played such a great utility role. Punishing him for hurting his leg playing a pick-up basketball game was, to use a cliche, dulling out a $50 dollar punishment for a $5 dollar crime. I mean, his hurting his leg got the Yankees, truly, and yes I realize it is me writing the following words, the best player in baseball. I may write an article about the A-rod saga within the next few weeks or so. But yes, I have changed my mind about the man and the player. In fact, to make up for a previous post, I have found a better photo. Also, my Yankees would have NEVER let Nick Johnson go. We would have held onto Bernie and signed Carlos Beltran. I mean, do you even hear about Carlos anymore? He has to HATE playing for the Mets. Man, I wonder if there's some way to make the trade... hmmmm. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I am looking forward to the next season. I think Girardi is an excellent choice. Torre's time was up. I hated the way he handled his pitchers the last few years. He showed a consistent lack of faith in his relievers especially during the playoffs. I personally blame him for the 2003 World Series (along with David Wells) as well as the 2004 choke against the Red Sox. Three games to none!? Then Joe Torre says he was disrespected. Really!? The Yankee management obviously did not want you but because you meant so much to the team, they threw you a bone. Sure, it was for less money, but were you looking for a raise?! Just accept they were showing you the door. Anyway... again, another article for another day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One day, if you're lucky, I will go into how I was not only the first baseman for the Yankees but then how I became the lefty version of Joba. But that's another story for another day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-3314197392589925103?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3314197392589925103'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3314197392589925103'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/current-state-of-yankees.html' title='The Current State of the Yankees'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4VCc_M6tLI/AAAAAAAABMg/svZ_ifNhzk8/s72-c/alex.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-6175812154984847671</id><published>2008-01-09T21:49:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-09T22:16:31.248+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Snippet On Polar Bears</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4U5ofM6tJI/AAAAAAAABMQ/XGGyakmjFSs/s1600-h/polar_bear_knut_380.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153588716328629394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4U5ofM6tJI/AAAAAAAABMQ/XGGyakmjFSs/s400/polar_bear_knut_380.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A recent news segment on TV asked whether zookeepers should take action regarding whether or not to intervene between a polar bear mother and her cub or to simply let "nature take its course." In this case, letting "nature takes its course" is not possible. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Recently, the news stations here in Belgium, have been talking about the problems some German zoos have had with polar bears. In two cases, they needed to decide whether or not to keep the polar bear cubs with their respective mothers as the moms had shown signs of being frantic and bothered. In one case, they left the cub with the mom and the mom ate the cub, and several animal rights groups protested that the keepers needed to take action to protect the cub. In another, when they took the cub away from the mom, several animal rights group protested the keepers needed to keep the cub with its mother. During the news story, the reported ended the segment asking whether the zookeepers should take action or "let nature take its course." At this point, Bunny bought a great point saying, "They are in a zoo!? Nature no longer applies!" And she's right. The zoo does have to make a decision and I don't think the "rules of nature" come into play anymore. These polar bears are not in their native habitat. If they were in their native homes, the parents would take care of their cubs with no problems. Then, if something should go awry, and the parent attacks the cub, then you can safely say that nature took its course. However, in a zoo, it's the zookeepers who must decide the best course of action. They bought the polar bears, and they now own the responsibility of determining the right course of action. By the way, I am all for protest groups wanting to speak their mind, but most animals in the zoo can no longer be returned to the wild. It would be more dangerous for the animals as they have been trained to eat regularly (without having to hunt) and have a safe place to sleep without fear of attack. So, let's be real... the animals are not going anywhere, and you can no longer treat them or consider them to be "wild". They are now pets. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the past couple of years, Bunny and I had to make the tough choices as to what to do with our aging cats who could no longer function without pain or control themselves. My father had pointed out that as pet owners, these are the types of decisions we need to make as if the pets were in the wild, this would be the time they would go away from the pack and "move on." But since they are not in the wild, it is our profound responsibility to make this decision even if it means we are saying goodbye to loved ones that are literally part of the family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally, in regards to the protesters... they need to let this go. I understand they never wanted the animals in the zoo in the first place and that argument may be just. But once the animals are in the zoo, and they have adapted, their fight in lost and they need to move on. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-6175812154984847671?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6175812154984847671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6175812154984847671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/snippet-on-polar-bears.html' title='A Snippet On Polar Bears'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R4U5ofM6tJI/AAAAAAAABMQ/XGGyakmjFSs/s72-c/polar_bear_knut_380.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-3928032127936460061</id><published>2008-01-05T13:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-07T15:13:13.730+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Bit... A father's hubris</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R39_kfM6tGI/AAAAAAAABL4/rMQ7A5Z6YxA/s1600-h/22-12-02+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151976763562832994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R39_kfM6tGI/AAAAAAAABL4/rMQ7A5Z6YxA/s400/22-12-02+007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Born a sweet La Habra child - - Mother Nature's girl&lt;br /&gt;All day long I'm dreaming up for her a perfect world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sit beside a sunny dream - - See her sweet blue eyes&lt;br /&gt;Listen to the pretty sound of music as she cries&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find me in my house of joy, Buffy, Bit &amp;amp; Bun&lt;br /&gt;Swaying dancing, she sings a pretty song for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mother Nature's girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-3928032127936460061?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3928032127936460061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/3928032127936460061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/little-bit-fathers-hubris.html' title='Little Bit... A father&apos;s hubris'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R39_kfM6tGI/AAAAAAAABL4/rMQ7A5Z6YxA/s72-c/22-12-02+007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-1350210088945903296</id><published>2008-01-04T00:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T00:27:57.712+01:00</updated><title type='text'>How I $pent My Christmas... In 2000 Words or Less</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R31vavM6tFI/AAAAAAAABLw/0_N6AjuiI_I/s1600-h/P!nk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151396053919642706" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R31vavM6tFI/AAAAAAAABLw/0_N6AjuiI_I/s400/P!nk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For Christmas this year, Minna got me a gift card for iTunes. This made me extremely happy because I love, LOVE iTunes! It’s one of the few things I will ask for around birthday or holiday time. However, it’s something I almost never use wisely. Instead of planning ahead, I will go the route of freestyle purchasing, which would normally leave me with over half my gift card spent of songs I wasn’t even looking for. Instead of having a great new collection of cool music, I will have one good album and then a bunch of crap that I would have never purchased but iTunes has this “other users purchased this item purchased that item as well” which suckers me in each and every time. Even though this time, I planned it out, I came THIS CLOSE to owning albums by Pink (spelled P!nk in iTunes), Ike Turner, Daughtry and Sean Lennon… I mean, come on!? Ike Turner!? P!nk!? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here’s how I spent my Christmas holidays… scouring iTunes and choosing the best ones (this is my best not best in reality) and then pruned my list again and again until I reached an amount worth one hundred dollars. And I decided to publicize my list and explain my rationality behind each purchase. This proved to be a problem because sometimes I chose not to purchase an album because I was afraid what you (the reader) would say so I would question over and over again to make sure I didn’t let YOU make my decisions for me. I don’t know, I thought it would be interesting. Here is the list in no particular order.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Winner of the “Where the Hell Did This Come From… and You Still Purchased It!?” award goes to Jah Wobble and his album, Shout At the Devil. Ok, let me explain, in a previous article, I wrote about Motley Crue and how Christian bands should cover their song, Shout At the Devil. Deciding that a real journalist would perform some form of research, I went onto iTunes to see if I could find any bands that did cover this song. And I came across a song by the same name by an artist I’d never heard of named Jah Wobble. Jah Wobble became “famous” as the bass player for Public Image Limited. But he quickly grew tired of the ways of the music business and went on to play artsy music…by the way he’s a bass player. Anyway, I sampled the songs from the album and loved it. It made the cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;During a recent trip to Los Angeles, I read a book by Chuck Klosterman, Killing Yourself to Live, in which he toured famous death sites of rock and roll musicians. Anyway, Chuch Klosterman is a huge Kiss fan and actually talked me into getting Ace Frehley’s solo (as a member of Kiss) album. Can you believe that!? I now own Kiss: Ace Frehley. And even more surprising, I love it! I listened to it while I was waiting for my mother-in-law at the airport on New Year’s Day. By the way, if you come by to visit us in Brussels, never ever let us tell you to meet you at the baggage claim. That is not possible. To make a long story short, mom-in-law was waiting on one side of the wall (or as I like to call it, customs) while I was waiting in the reception area. And unless you’re flying domestically, this rule applies to most if not all international airports. But I digress, Kiss: Ace Frehley is a really good album.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Toots Thielemans: Chez Toots – According to Wikipedia, Toots Thielemans is a Belgian jazz artist, who is well known for his harmonica and guitar playing. Before I began my iTunes search, I had not heard of him. But he was the European musician I’d been looking for. I always love the music from the Pink Panther movies (the real one with Peter Sellers not that Steve Martin piece of crud – by the way I love Steve Martin, but come on!) but aside from Henry Mancini I could not find it anywhere. And I have Herbie Hancock to thank for it. You see, iTunes has this other feature that ALWAYS suckers me into purchases in which they have artists choose their favorite music. I have found several good songs this way. Well, Herbie mentioned Toots and I listened to Mr. Hancock. And Herbie was right, Toots is FANTASTIC. I strongly recommend Toots and Herbie’s own Head Hunters album. This album also made the cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Winner of the “Biggest Non-Surprise &amp;amp; All Around Well Duhh” award goes to U218. Really, James, you bought a U2 album? Wow, that is a shocker. Actually, let me try to weasel an explanation as to why this should be something of a surprise to you. You see, I had refused to purchase this album out of spite because I didn’t think it was cool for iTunes to release the album with the two new songs listed as “album only” which means to get the song you have to buy the whole album. Guess what, I own every released U2 song so I was only looking for the two previously unreleased songs. Itunes made this stance tougher when they made a deluxe version with some live versions of songs I really like. But that version was first listed at $17.99. But when I came across the album during my “search” I found that it was now listed at only $7.99. Now they had me. So that is why I now own U218.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Sundays: Blind – Great-great sophomore effort that is HIGHLY unappreciated. Please buy this album, it’s only $7.99 on iTunes and worth so much more. I keep intending on writing some columns called Second Chance Albums, well this would be one of the first entries. So I won’t go into much more detail now, but buy it nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes: Relayer – At this moment, I don’t have a lot to say about this album. It is one of the best Yes albums I currently did not own and it was only 2.99 (it only has three songs). But it does have the piece “Soon” on it among other things. I came THIS CLOSE to buying Tormato as well but during revisions I quickly decided that I would not buy any music twice from the same artist. I literally spent ten minutes debating between Kiss’s Creatures of the Night and Ace Frehley’s solo album. I never ever thought I’d EVER write about debating between Kiss and Ace Frehley. NEVER! Much less have Ace Frehley come out the victor. But I digress, if I was going to break the buying multiple music by the same artist rule, Yes would have been the reason why. Itunes has a TON of Yes material and for some reason I really wanted to get all of it. But Relayer won because 1) it was cheap and well, that was really the only reason why. I really needed to make this gift card stretch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Run-DMC: Discover Run-DMC – Just shut-up ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OMD: The Pacific Age – I found this album by accident but this is one of those albums that has been out of print FOR YEARS. I loved it back in highschool and every other year or so I would do a massive search for it but it would only be available via Barnes and Noble for like $30.00. Anyway, I found it this year and it quickly became a final choice as I knew it I didn’t buy it now, it would not be available again next time. Still love it. Amazingly good album considering I chose it based on something I had not listened to in over 15 years… God that hurts. It’s like the time my brother Dave told me, while in his car listening to the radio a Yes song came on and he really got into it. At the end of the song, the radio DJ said, “You’re listening to Oldies…” Anyway, that’s how I feel all of a sudden. 15 years!? I need a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gary Numan: The Pleasure Principle – I know!? I even impressed myself with this one. Why do we only know this guy for the Cars song?! This whole album is a MASTERPIECE. Maybe it’s because I am in Europe and in close proximity to the lands of Kraftwerk, Brian Eno and all things Jah Wobble, but this album is tremendous song for song. Great album.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Derek &amp;amp; the Dominos: Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs – Why? Because I am a HUGE SUCKER for Bell Bottomed Blues. In fact, I just put that song on now. And there is so much history in this collection of musicians for this album. Think about it, you are Eric Clapton. The world thinks you are a guitar God, your best friend is George Harrison, and you are in love with your best friend’s wife. So what do you do, you get drunk, completely plastered, night after night, with some Allman Brothers and come up with heart wrenching song after song after song… FANTASTIC. It was the last full album of songs to make the cut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At this point, I was down to my last few iTune credits and I could either buy Tom Petty’s Into the Great Wide Open (available only for $5.99) or buy some single songs. This is tougher then it seems because one thing I always get caught with is buying some songs on iTunes to only later on want to buy the whole album which means re-buying some of the songs again… drag. Anyway, one day I will get the Tom Petty album. But not today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Duran Duran: New Moon on Monday and Cracks in the Pavement. Look, 7 and a Ragged Tiger is a crap album. The version of Reflex bites compared to the one I already own on their greatest hits collection (shut up) and I only wanted these two songs. Anyway… leave me alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Delirious?: Rain Down – Just a fun little song from a goofy Christian band. It’s a perky little number and a great traveling song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blake Lewis: Break Anotha – The only thing scarier then buying an American Pop Idol song is making the wise decision to buy the single so if later on you want to buy the ALBUM you’re not purchasing songs you already own. Yes, I have frightened myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;James Blunt: 1973 – Yes, I liked his You’re Beautiful and High songs… I am sure you will question my manhood at this point (if you haven’t already) but it’s a cool little ditty. So sue me. But play it once or twice and tell me it doesn’t stick in your head. My brother David also told me about this game he and his co-workers would play where they would hum/sing annoying songs that you can’t possibly get out of your head for hours on end. Vanilla Ice and the like. I think this song could work quite well. But it’s also the year my little beauty was born. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-1350210088945903296?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1350210088945903296'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1350210088945903296'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2008/01/how-i-pent-my-christmas-in-2000-words.html' title='How I $pent My Christmas... In 2000 Words or Less'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R31vavM6tFI/AAAAAAAABLw/0_N6AjuiI_I/s72-c/P!nk.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-7771831246337711629</id><published>2007-12-30T23:25:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2008-01-10T11:41:20.101+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Long Lead In...Attention All Christian Rock Bands</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R3wamPM6tEI/AAAAAAAABLQ/Ea24rDAnPzo/s1600-h/shout.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5151021318023066690" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R3wamPM6tEI/AAAAAAAABLQ/Ea24rDAnPzo/s400/shout.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Eventually, this article is going to be about how I think a Christian rock band should perform a cover of Motley Crue’s, Shout At the Devil. To get there though, I am going to start at the beginning. And that begins with a rookie pitcher for the New York Yankees named Joba Chamberlain. Groomed as a starting pitcher, last year he moved up three or four leagues to end up being a masterful set-up pitcher to Mariano Rivera. During the regular season, he allowed only one earned run and if not for the Clevland mites, he could have possibly saved the Yankees in the playoffs. While I was doing some reading on Joba for a possible future article, I found out that when playing at Yankee stadium, Joba entered to Shout At the Devil, by Motley Crue. I had never listened to the song before but I found out that I had it on my iPod (on their greatest hits collection). First of all, it’s a great song and I discovered that if you got past the fact that they were a heavy metal-LA-glam band from the early 80s, you could actually respect Motley Crue as musicians. If you know me at all you must realize what a huge statement that is… In the 80s, I liked U2, R.E.M, the Cure, and the Cult. If you liked those bands then you COULD NOT like bands like Motley Crue, Ratt, Poison and Bon Jovi. The bands I liked spoke out against social injustice, wrote songs about civil rights leaders and taught me about activist groups like Greenpeace and Amnesty International. Recently having read a snippet from Motley Crue’s band biography, I found out that what they could have taught me if I had listened to them in highschool. To keep girlfriends from finding out the bandmembers had collectively cheated on them, Motley Crue would use egg burritos to hide the evidence. There’s more to that story but I am trying to keep this a family friendly website. But I digress, remember, this is highschool, so the various societal rules as a student you were forced to follow, while they may not make sense or be practical that doesn’t really matter does it? You followed them nonetheless and then you get to spend the rest of your life regretting what a follower you were… but that’s another story for another day… But I digress, the point is, I had not heard the song before, now I have heard it, and I love it. If I can change, then all you Christian bands out there, you can change to. That is, if you can get past the whole egg burrito incident. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first glance, Shout At the Devil, looks like a no-brainer. It rocks, it has a positive Christian phrase, yell at the devil, tell him you don’t like him, take that. But let’s take a look deeper and examine the lyrics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He's the wolf screaming lonely in the night&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=7803766691151500318&amp;amp;postID=7771831246337711629#_ftn1" name="_ftnref1"&gt;&lt;em&gt;[1]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He's the blood stain on the stage&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He's the tear in your eyeBeen tempted by his lie&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He's the knife in your back&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He's rageHe's the razor to the knife&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh, lonely is our lives&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My heads spinnin' round and round&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;But in the seasons of witherWe'll stand and deliver&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Be strong and laugh and…&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;So far, I think a Christian rock band could work with this… I mean, “He” can obviously be the devil, the devil screws you over and stabs you in the back, he’s rage, this is all too clear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus:]&lt;em&gt;Shout-shout-shoutShout at the devil&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, you can’t argue with this statement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He'll be the love in your eyes&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He'll be the blood between your thighs&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Whoops, whoa oh… slow down…Ok, this line might need to be rewritten. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;And then have you Cry for more&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this isn’t helping their cause at all… That doesn’t even make sense?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;He'll put strength to the test&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He'll put the thrill back in bed&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, now I’m lost… this is the Devil we’re talking about right? The thrill back in bed… and we’re talking about the Devil… what!? It’s kind of part Rocky Balboa, part Don Juan.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sure you've heard it all before&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;He'll be the risk in the kiss&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Might be anger on your lipsMight run scared for the door&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I must be honest, at this point, I don’t think I am even fooling myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But in seasons of wither&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;We'll stand and deliver&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Be strong and laugh and[Chorus]&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, saved at the end. I could totally see some rah-rah Christian band singing that last part. So what they would need to do then is just change the bit about the blood between the thighs… and the kiss, and the thrill back in bed part. I mean, it’s almost like Motley Crue realized they were writing a Christian song, got scared and decided to throw in some sexual innuendos that made absolutely no sense to save themselves (figuratively as opposed to religiously). That almost makes them a cop-out.&lt;br /&gt;So I stand behind my original thought. Christian bands, cover this song… just rework the second verse and make this song your own. What do you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a title="" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1" href="http://www.blogger.com/post-edit.g?blogID=7803766691151500318&amp;amp;postID=7771831246337711629#_ftnref1" name="_ftn1"&gt;[1]&lt;/a&gt; http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/idlehands/shoutatthedevil.htm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-7771831246337711629?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7771831246337711629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7771831246337711629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/12/long-lead-inattention-all-christian.html' title='The Long Lead In...Attention All Christian Rock Bands'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R3wamPM6tEI/AAAAAAAABLQ/Ea24rDAnPzo/s72-c/shout.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-1137457927380749508</id><published>2007-12-24T21:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T21:58:25.071+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lily Dancing'/><title type='text'>A Little Music Please, Mister Maestro</title><content type='html'>It was not my intention to have Lily watching television shows such as Dallas, Buffy, Star Trek (both the original and Next Generation series) and Monk, it just kind of happened.  As I mentioned before referring to Star Trek, these shows do have excellent theme music going for it.  We can tell Lily really loves a song when along with the bopping up and down, she gets a little Stevie Wonder head juke going on.  This clip offers a little example of Lily’s dancing as well as a bit of her choreography. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3b2bb441849ce78d" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3b2bb441849ce78d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329964544%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1156B089F46E880C7AF50D97ADF716603C2CF0AF.7C872A3C8AE8542BE66FC6A84F8309091A474BA6%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3b2bb441849ce78d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D_T4srrK9659ym1Q9fWRz0DgDMkA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3b2bb441849ce78d%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329964544%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1156B089F46E880C7AF50D97ADF716603C2CF0AF.7C872A3C8AE8542BE66FC6A84F8309091A474BA6%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3b2bb441849ce78d%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D_T4srrK9659ym1Q9fWRz0DgDMkA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-1137457927380749508?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=3b2bb441849ce78d&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1137457927380749508'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1137457927380749508'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/12/little-music-please-mister-maestro.html' title='A Little Music Please, Mister Maestro'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-1731225524109229909</id><published>2007-12-13T21:20:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T21:25:48.299+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Early Influences On Sleeping</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R2GU_br19jI/AAAAAAAABLA/S3ZDATNmRqY/s1600-h/jerry.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143556066918135346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R2GU_br19jI/AAAAAAAABLA/S3ZDATNmRqY/s400/jerry.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy isn't the first choice you would pick for someone you'd want your daughter to meet and "look up to."  But I surprised myself when I took a moment to think of all the songs I sing to Lily as I put her down for the night. If you follow TV &amp;amp; American movies, you see for the most part parents singing the Rock-a-bye song and the Hush Little Baby Bird (mockingbird) song. But these songs don’t come easily or naturally to me. Instead I find myself singing several different songs that even surprise myself. Here are a few of them.&lt;br /&gt;1. Mother Nature’s Son – It’s one of the prettiest songs Paul McCartney sings without getting syrupy as he tends to do. I mean this is song comes from the same album in which Paul produce Martha My Dear, Rocky Racoon and Ob-la-di. Sans lyrics I hum most of this song and it is normally a safe bet.&lt;br /&gt;2. Ripple – Grateful Dead – Yeah, this one surprises me too. It’s not like I want to produce Jerry Garcia as a cultural influence to Lily or anything. But hum it to yourself and you’ll see it’s a terrific ditty to sing while calming the little girl down.&lt;br /&gt;3. The Girl From Ipanema – This is one of my favorites and I do all the parts, the guy, Astrid, the piano solo, the sax solo and back to Astrid. I even fade out on this one as I leave the room. It ends up taking me about 15 minutes to get through the whole song and by the end Lily is crying… for me to get out of the room and leave her alone to sleep.&lt;br /&gt;4. Amazing Grace – The dork in me fell in love with this song (sadly) when Bono of riffed from it during one of their concerts. Back in the days when I needed to soothe Lily to sleep, this one was pretty much “old faithful”.&lt;br /&gt;5. Goodnight – The Beatles – Probably this closest thing to a true lullaby in this list. Of course Ringo completely trashes it. However, I have heard a few covers performed by real singers and it is quite a pretty little song.&lt;br /&gt;Part of me thinks I can’t be alone in this, regarding singing non-lullabyes. I’ll need to get around to asking my Mom, one of these days what she sang to me. If you have any songs you sang or remember your parents singing to you, let me know.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-1731225524109229909?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1731225524109229909'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1731225524109229909'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/12/early-influences-on-sleeping.html' title='Early Influences On Sleeping'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R2GU_br19jI/AAAAAAAABLA/S3ZDATNmRqY/s72-c/jerry.bmp' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-7579177680664824476</id><published>2007-12-12T21:51:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T21:54:40.348+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Remaking The Christmas In Deadison Tapes... on my iPod</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R2GcBLr19kI/AAAAAAAABLI/br8i_GxcIJo/s1600-h/charlie+brown.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143563793564300866" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R2GcBLr19kI/AAAAAAAABLI/br8i_GxcIJo/s400/charlie+brown.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Back in highschool, when John was a junior or senior and I was a freshman or sophmore, John worked at a Footlocker at the local mall. During the holidays, one of his co-workers produced a mixed tape of what I decided had to be the greatest collection of Christmas rock songs. The tape included (still have the order memorized) Happy Xmas (John Lennon and Yoko Ono), Bruce Springsteen's Santa Claus is Coming to Town, the Waitresses with Christmas Wrapping, Billy Squier's Christmas is the Time to Say I Love You, the Kinks' Father Christmas, ELP's Father Christmas, the Eagles Please Come Home for Christmas, Paul McCartney's horrifically tragic attempt Christmastime, and finally some group that sounds like Dexy's Midnight Runner's doing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. When John bought this tape home we augmented the collection adding both U2's Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) and Band-Aid's Do They Know It's Christmas. That was a lot more information then what you'd probably deem as necessary but I digress... While I LOVE this tape and have spent the last few years trying to get as close as possible to the original while adding a few of my own to ultimately come up with my own greatest Christmas album ever. So the forthcoming will be my list of my all-time favorite Christmas songs and why... simply for your viewing enjoyment! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1) &lt;u&gt;Happy Xmas - John Lennon &amp;amp; Yoko One&lt;/u&gt; (come on, we all know it's John Lennon) - For a supposed atheist, John Lennon really nailed this song. It's beautiful and poignant and always puts me in the Christmas mood. Minna got annoyed when I tried to point out the beauty in this song. She can't get past the atheist part and I can't blame her. I just remember listening to this song while driving in the car and it was one of those few times the whole family appreciated it. As opposed to when an ABBA song would come on, I get elated only to be deflated when the station would immediately be changed. It was never good being the youngest and sitting in the back during moments like this. But I digress...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2) &lt;u&gt;Santa Claus is Coming To Town - Bruce Springsteen&lt;/u&gt; - I have read some reviews recently where this song is absolutely raked over the coals (pun intended - Christmas... coal... get it?) and I don't know why. When I was a wee lad in the 4th grade, I was listening to the local Philadelphia radio station, WPST when I first heard this song. My brother loved Bruce Springsteen but I could never get into him... but when the song started, I totally became mesmerized by his introduction and the crowds reaction and then, all of a sudden, instead of singing one of his boring songs about a river and some poor town in Jersey, he was actually singing a song I knew... in a new way. It was probably my first experience of a Christmas song being rockified. Anyway, I was blown away and still remember that night, lying in bed, listening to Bruce and feeling cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3) &lt;u&gt;Christmas Wrapping - The Waitresses&lt;/u&gt; - I first heard this when John bought home the Footlocker Christmas tape and I was floored. To me, this is one of the truly original Christmas songs which again almost instantly puts me in the mood. During one of the worst Christmas's of my life, I was driving around, really depressed and bummed out and the radio DJ announced the next song was going to include some Christmas rapping. Sadly, I assumed this was going to be Run-DMC's Christmas in Hollis (Mom's cooking chicken and collard greens) and I decided to leave it on but was "surprised" that it was actually the Waitresses. It immediately took me back to the Footlocker days... John's not mine...I digress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4) &lt;u&gt;The Christmas Song - The Chipmunks&lt;/u&gt; - Look, I love this song. I'm not proud of it. But I still crack a smile when the guitar and saxes break in. Enough said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5) &lt;u&gt;Christmas in Hollis - Run DMC&lt;/u&gt; - I am going to let the lyrics speak for themself...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's Christmas time in Hollis Queens, Mom's cooking chicken and collard greens, Rice and stuffing, macaroni and cheese, And Santa put gifts under Christmas trees, Decorate the house with lights at night, Snow's on the ground, snow white so bright, In the fireplace is the yule log, Beneath the mistle toe as we drink egg nog, The rhymes you hear are the rhymes of Darryl's, But each and every year we bust Christmas carols.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;It's like Christmas at the Holloways! The only thing bad about this song is the accompanying video which somehow is worse then Paul McCartney's Christmastime. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;6) &lt;u&gt;Silent Night - U2&lt;/u&gt; - U2 never covered this song but I always wished they did. Bono's voice would be awesome for this song and I can completely envision how the others would back him up with harmony. It would be completely U2-circa the Joshua Tree. If they covered this my way, it would definitely make the top ten. But since they only released their version of girlfriend killer Phil Spector's Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) and since it is clearly not a top ten Christmas song, it's Silent Night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;7) &lt;u&gt;The 12 Days of Christmas - The Muppets&lt;/u&gt; - You know how on Christmas Eve, you begin to get so excited about opening your gifts that you're not sure if you are going to be able to contain yourself? Well that's how I felt everytime I listen to this song, waiting for it to get to Miss Piggy singing 5 golden rings... I don't care, this is my blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;8) &lt;u&gt;I Believe In Father Christmas - ELP&lt;/u&gt; - I love this song and there are several versions released by ELP. Which kind of sucks because a majority of them have this symphony backing that sounds too Mannheim Steam Roller but one version which ends with a beautiful piano bit. That's my favorite one and I had to buy three versions before I finally found it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;9) &lt;u&gt;You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch&lt;/u&gt; - I don't even have to explain... but if I could nominate the Coca Cola "Buy the world a coke", McDonald's "You Deserve A Break Today" and Mounds/Almond Joy "sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't" I would because these came hand in hand when the Christmas specials would come on. Which leads to...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;10) &lt;u&gt;The Charlie Brown Christmas Special Soundtrack - All of it&lt;/u&gt; - A piano, a bass, and drums, the Vince Guaraldi band. My favorite full Christmas album. Hands down, best song for song. It even offers the best use of kids voices (aside from the Vienna boys choir) by letting them sound like kids (with cracks and everything). If I could find the musical for the Christmas Carol I would include that as well.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;I hope everyone is having an EXTREMELY AWESOME HOLIDAY SEASON! Merry Christmas to all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-7579177680664824476?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7579177680664824476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7579177680664824476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/12/remaking-christmas-in-deadison-tapes-on.html' title='Remaking The Christmas In Deadison Tapes... on my iPod'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R2GcBLr19kI/AAAAAAAABLI/br8i_GxcIJo/s72-c/charlie+brown.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-2198721586953955365</id><published>2007-12-08T09:37:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T09:52:57.636+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Quality Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R1pbXLr19iI/AAAAAAAABK4/ol2fHqZesro/s1600-h/quality+time.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141522378428642850" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R1pbXLr19iI/AAAAAAAABK4/ol2fHqZesro/s400/quality+time.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Most of the time, once Lily's up, all of us are up. Sometimes this means I get to spend some time with her, Mommy and Buffy before I go to work. Other times it means she gets up right around the time I am leaving for work and then I don't get to see her until evening time. But sometimes, when Minna needs to catch up on her sleep, especially on weekends, then it's just Lily and I getting up. If you would have told me waking up at 7 in the morning on the weekend to feed, play, change and take care of a little baby would be cool, I would not believe you. I don't know if it's the same with baby boys, but when you have a little girl, and you have only been asleep for four or five hours... it's awesome. We're beginning to develop a pattern. By the time we get downstairs, get some food together for her and sit down at her chair, Star Trek is on. First the original, then the next generation. Now, I know you're going to try and say that no little girl likes Star Trek, but you're wrong. Lily LOVES Star Trek and I think I can explain why. Fascinating colors, goofy looking characters, especially if you are looking at the older version, but also, the music is fun and exciting. The music is also played by a symphony so I know I can sneak some "cultural educating" argument here. When the theme music starts, Lily immediately points to the tv screen and starts dancing. So our mornings are spent either watching Star Trek or watching the Sesame Street Christmas Special. This was the first one (sans Elmo) when the show was still awesome. Again, Lily loves the fuzzy furry characters and is in awe of Big Bird. Me, I love the storyline. Oscar the Grouch tells Big Bird that Santa can't possibly fit down the pipes to deliver presents to everyone in the city and Big Bird needs to discover how it can be done. But in the best part, Ernie trades his Rubber Duckie to get a cigar box for Bert's paperclip collection while Bert trades his paperclip collection to buy Ernie a soapdish to hold his rubber duckie. :( I won't give away the ending, but it's worth the viewing. Anyway, I digress...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's always awesome to have the whole family together, but I do like these times when it's just Lily and me. And it's also tremendous because in a few minutes, we're going to go upstairs and wake Mommy! :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-2198721586953955365?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/2198721586953955365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/2198721586953955365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/12/quality-time.html' title='Quality Time'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R1pbXLr19iI/AAAAAAAABK4/ol2fHqZesro/s72-c/quality+time.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-5869913164973195458</id><published>2007-12-07T13:57:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T14:01:48.127+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Standing On Top of the World</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R1lDsbr19hI/AAAAAAAABKY/bUyiCrg6a9U/s1600-h/on+top+of+the+world.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141214880245085714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R1lDsbr19hI/AAAAAAAABKY/bUyiCrg6a9U/s400/on+top+of+the+world.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R1lDfbr19gI/AAAAAAAABKQ/u_dB8HSIQOQ/s1600-h/on+top+of+the+world.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, I really thought my cell phone was going to capture it all...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I was back in the good old US of A attending a trainer's summit.  I am standing atop the Los Angeles Tower.  Here I am trying to film it with my cell phone camera and needless to say it missed something in translation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-5869913164973195458?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/5869913164973195458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/5869913164973195458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/12/standing-on-top-of-world.html' title='Standing On Top of the World'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R1lDsbr19hI/AAAAAAAABKY/bUyiCrg6a9U/s72-c/on+top+of+the+world.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-7944947947960323795</id><published>2007-12-07T13:05:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T13:07:52.883+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... The Yankees Just Might Be Getting It Right</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R1k3kLr19fI/AAAAAAAABKI/Vu3wjn4XCqs/s1600-h/untouchables.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141201544371631602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R1k3kLr19fI/AAAAAAAABKI/Vu3wjn4XCqs/s320/untouchables.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The end of the winter meetings and the Yankees still possess their prized prospects. Johann Santana is a fantastic left-handed pitcher and I would love to have him. But let's wait until next year when he's a free agent and will only cost $$$ as opposed to the future.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-7944947947960323795?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7944947947960323795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7944947947960323795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/12/shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-yankees-just-might.html' title='Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... The Yankees Just Might Be Getting It Right'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R1k3kLr19fI/AAAAAAAABKI/Vu3wjn4XCqs/s72-c/untouchables.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-7577513510920735440</id><published>2007-11-24T13:57:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-12-08T09:33:32.337+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Making Fun of Those Who Got It Right</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R0gg-XAl2_I/AAAAAAAABJg/i8nG4qQLgbo/s1600-h/lakein.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136391630716525554" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R0gg-XAl2_I/AAAAAAAABJg/i8nG4qQLgbo/s320/lakein.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;I picked up Alan Lakein’s book, How to Get Control of Your Time &amp;amp; Your Life, after reading the forward in Bill Clinton’s autobiography. If the last great president of the United States thought enough of this book to actually mention/recommend it in his own memoir, then there must be something to it. At first glance, Lakein prescribes how to organize your time by using an ABC prioritizing system. After creating three lists based on your lifetime goals, how to spend the next three years, and finally the next six months (based on the concept you had six months to live), and listing what things you wish to accomplish, you categorize each of these lists using A,B,C to stress the priority to complete item. Lakein then promotes attending to only A,B tasks. Now, this is a generalization of his work coming off the top of my head so please note there is much more offered in his book. For purposes of this article, I only want to introduce his book so that I can introduce his appendix (offered at the end of the book) of his top 61 ways he “saves time”… so I can comment upon them… and make fun of him. I will not go through all 61 points, just my favorite ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How Alan Lakein Saved Time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. I count all my time as “On-Time” and try to get satisfaction (not necessarily accomplishment) out of every minute. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Fair enough, but this isn’t the kind of person you generally want to hang out with, is it? I like the concept of doing something with your life and working towards your goals, but once I think about doing this “every minute” of my day, I get tired before I have even begun and all I want to do is turn on the tv and see if the Flemish Science channel is showing Star Trek.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. I try to enjoy whatever I am doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Well, duh. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. I’m a perennial optimist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Now, I don’t claim that Alan Lakein is one of those new-age-go-out-and-masturbate-in-the-desert freaks that I saw one too many of while shopping at Whole Foods in Los Angeles. But he may just be a little bit too happy for my taste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6. I don’t waste my time feeling guilty about what I don’t do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I tried to explain this one to the wife, as in “I did not take out the garbage, and I do not feel guilty about it.” It’s kind of like the inverse of the new age line I absolutely detest, “I give myself permission to do ‘something’”… I hate that… it’s like an excuse to be selfish… just be selfish if you want to be selfish… don’t announce to the world that you gave yourself permission to… that’s just lame. I digress… Anyway, the missus doesn’t buy my line, even if I back it up with “but Alan Lakein says….”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. I get up at 5:00AM during the week (and go to bed early).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Next.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11. I don’t read newspapers or magazines (except occasionally). I do glance at the headlines at the newsstands to keep up on the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;“I stay uninformed and I like it.” Great. This is just the kind of person I hate. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12. I skim books quickly looking for ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Those who follow point 11 also follow point 12. These are also the people that vote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13. I don’t own a television set. (My family and I went to a motel to watch the moon walks and we rented a set for the political conventions.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Wow… Lakein kids, your Dad’s lame.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;17. I keep my watch 3 minutes fast, to get a head start on the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;I don’t understand people that do this… you KNOW you watch is three minutes fast… who are you fooling then? My bosses normally end up being the same type of person that does this and they look at you like you’re late when you arrive at 9:00 for a 9:00 meeting, when they were there at 8:57.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;While I am making fun of some of these rules, I actually do recommend picking up a copy if you have trouble organizing yourself. It helps put your actual wants and desires into perspective. Just to sink too far into the darkside.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-7577513510920735440?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7577513510920735440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7577513510920735440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/11/making-fun-of-those-who-got-it-right.html' title='Making Fun of Those Who Got It Right'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R0gg-XAl2_I/AAAAAAAABJg/i8nG4qQLgbo/s72-c/lakein.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-1873646913645480261</id><published>2007-11-20T22:38:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-20T23:02:00.202+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking Back... 80s All-Star Collaborations</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R0NYMHAlv8I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/IZXGPSCuLs4/s1600-h/USA-For-Africa-We-Are-The-World-363682.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5135044965195694018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R0NYMHAlv8I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/IZXGPSCuLs4/s320/USA-For-Africa-We-Are-The-World-363682.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Starting at Christmas, in 1984, musicians started joining together and performing all-star songs for benefits. Bob Geldof started it with Band Aid and &lt;em&gt;Do They Know It's Christmas Time... &lt;/em&gt;the following year, Michael Jackson ripped that off and wrote &lt;em&gt;We Are the World. &lt;/em&gt;And it just took off from there... within a few years, we had &lt;em&gt;Hands Across America&lt;/em&gt;, the Canadians did &lt;em&gt;Tears Are Not Enough&lt;/em&gt; and WWF wrestlers even got involved with Land of 1000 Dances. I thought I'd watch each one and talk about them a bit. So what I did was find the video on You Tube, and then kept a running commentary while watching the video. If you want to watch the video while you read along, here's a link to the you tube site. While Band Aid did come first, I decided to go ahead with &lt;em&gt;We Are the World. &lt;/em&gt;I really don't have a reason why. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WmxT21uFRwM"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WmxT21uFRwM&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We Are the World - USA For Africa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Video Begins&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:11 PM Nice graphics... you know they thought that was cool back then &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There comes a time&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When we head a certain call &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;10:12 PM  Lionel Richie...Did you think one day his wife would beat him with a frying pan? Me either. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;When the world must come together as one&lt;br /&gt;There are people dying&lt;br /&gt;And it's time to lend a hand to life&lt;br /&gt;The greatest gift of all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We can't go on&lt;br /&gt;Pretending day by day &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:12 PMKenny Rogers was huge then... I guess&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;That someone, somewhere will soon make a change&lt;br /&gt;We are all a part of&lt;br /&gt;God's great big family&lt;br /&gt;And the truth, you know love is all we need&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;10:12 PMBilly Joel still looked like a human then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We are the world&lt;br /&gt;We are the children&lt;br /&gt;We are the ones who make a brighter day&lt;br /&gt;So let's start giving &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;10:12 PM How did we not know Michael Jackson was crazy!? &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There's a choice we're making&lt;br /&gt;We're saving our own lives&lt;br /&gt;It's true we'll make a better day&lt;br /&gt;Just you and me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Send them your heart&lt;br /&gt;So they'll know that someone cares&lt;br /&gt;And their lives will be stronger and free&lt;br /&gt;As God has shown us by turning stone to bread &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;10:13 PMThat was a good look for Willie…that was always my favorite line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;So we all must lend a helping hand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We are the world&lt;br /&gt;We are the children&lt;br /&gt;We are the ones who make a brighter day&lt;br /&gt;So let's start giving &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;10:13 PM BRUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCEEEEEEE &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There's a choice we're making&lt;br /&gt;We're saving our own lives&lt;br /&gt;It's true we'll make a better day&lt;br /&gt;Just you and me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're down and out&lt;br /&gt;There seems no hope at all &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;10:14 PM Now we get to the part where star singers start getting one or two word parts…that must have pissed these guys off considering Jacko’s gotten half a dozen lines already. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;But if you just believe&lt;br /&gt;There's no way we can fall&lt;br /&gt;Well, well, well, well, let us realize&lt;br /&gt;That a change will only come&lt;br /&gt;When we stand together as one &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;10:14 PMKim Carnes got to sing "When we.." I think she wins the got shafted awared…This was right after Bette Davis Eyes… she was a STAR!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We are the world&lt;br /&gt;We are the children&lt;br /&gt;We are the ones who make a brighter day&lt;br /&gt;So let's start giving&lt;br /&gt;There's a choice we're making &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;10:15 PM The chorus was pretty cool... that's what you get when you have Quincy conducting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We're saving our own lives &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;10:16 PM Ray's riff was pretty cool&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;It's true we'll make a better day &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;10:16 PM BRRRUUUCCCEEEE! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Just you and me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;We are the world&lt;br /&gt;We are the children&lt;br /&gt;We are the ones who make a brighter day&lt;br /&gt;So let's start giving&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10:18 PM Ok... I get the chorus now… it’s gone on now for four minutes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;There's a choice we're making&lt;br /&gt;We're saving our own lives&lt;br /&gt;It's true we'll make a better day&lt;br /&gt;Just you and me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Post thoughts... Many of the stars of this video have disappeared, or at least their careers have. Michael is officially insane, Ray has passed on... Bruce is still around... But the song is still cool... not too dated. Quincy really worked the chorus bit. Overall, I think Michael and Quincy did a great job of picking just the right people to give parts to... At the time, each and everyone of them was HUGE. Although, I really thought they should have given Harry Belafonte a line or two. I remember after the video came out, Johnny Carson made a joke about how Barbara Striesand and some others were coming out with a song of their own called, &lt;em&gt;We Are the Rest. &lt;/em&gt;I always loved that one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-1873646913645480261?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1873646913645480261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1873646913645480261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/11/looking-back-80s-all-star-compilations.html' title='Looking Back... 80s All-Star Collaborations'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/R0NYMHAlv8I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/IZXGPSCuLs4/s72-c/USA-For-Africa-We-Are-The-World-363682.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-5975906209140473267</id><published>2007-11-16T22:50:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T23:03:44.748+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Just A Thought I Had While On The Train Ride Home This Evening</title><content type='html'>Ten years ago, I was shucking cds in a record store at Lincoln Center in New York City.  My work outfit included a flourescent Coconut on it.  My good friend and co-worker introduced me to his wife who promptly greeted me with, "Oh yeah, you're the Artist Formerly Known As Prince's Hairdo"... and I still speak to her to this day.  I lived in a basement apartment with my gay roomate who came out of the closet to me on Christmas Day by asking if I cared to indulge... in a footrub.  Ten years later, I graduated from college with a degree in political science, am married to an AWESOME lady, got a WONDERFUL little Beauty of a daughter, an awesome PUPPY, I live in Brussels, Belgium and am learning French.  A lot can change in ten years time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-5975906209140473267?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/5975906209140473267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/5975906209140473267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/11/just-thought-i-had-while-on-train-ride.html' title='Just A Thought I Had While On The Train Ride Home This Evening'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-8273218303353384261</id><published>2007-11-13T23:44:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-14T00:34:22.316+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Birthday Presents... Hey, Wait A Second...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzosKiFMM8I/AAAAAAAAAPs/jYXhkM8tJAQ/s1600-h/abba.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132463284800992194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzosKiFMM8I/AAAAAAAAAPs/jYXhkM8tJAQ/s320/abba.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nowadays, I'm pretty self-confident with my musical prowess and appreciation. Gone are the days when I had to like only one band (U2) and abhor fake bands (Bon Jovi, anything pop). Now I can appreciate both John Lennon's work from the Beatles, and Paul's... and George's... I'm working on Ringo. I listen to jazz, classical, punk, alternative, 60s, folk, Grateful Dead, Progressive rock, disco and much much more. This is a huge change from when I was just a young lad when my music taste just sucked. I was browsing through Youtube and came across this video. &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wR6H-LfKOpk"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wR6H-LfKOpk&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When my 9th or 10th birthday came around and my brothers asked me what I wanted, I proudly asked for ABBA's new album (Supertrooper). They gladly obliged me. At the time, I thought, wow, what great brothers... but now looking back on it... I now remember the "Super Saver" sticker plastered onto the album. You know when an album has a "Super Saver" on it!? When it sucks. That's why my brothers were so willing to purchase it for me... it was cheap. My brothers liked buying music for me at that time because my taste at the time did not improve much past ABBA. The funny thing is looking back at it now, I still kind of like the album. It also had the Winner Takes It All (another classic). My brother Dave used to sometimes hang out in the radio booth at his highschool. One day, he knew I was home sick so he called me up from the radio station and told me they were going to play a song for me of my own choosing. I immediately said ABBA... he immediately said no. Stumped, I chose a Cheap Trick song (that was John's favorite group at the time... John was always light-years ahead of me in coolness) and then promptly forgot to turn the radio on until about a half hour later. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-8273218303353384261?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8273218303353384261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8273218303353384261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/11/great-birthday-presents-wait-second.html' title='Great Birthday Presents... Hey, Wait A Second...'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzosKiFMM8I/AAAAAAAAAPs/jYXhkM8tJAQ/s72-c/abba.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-2067710494691227825</id><published>2007-11-13T22:45:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T22:56:45.787+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A Belated Introduction of Sorts To My Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzodYyFMM6I/AAAAAAAAAPc/BK7Eogi9z0M/s1600-h/The+Critic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132447036939711394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzodYyFMM6I/AAAAAAAAAPc/BK7Eogi9z0M/s320/The+Critic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is Lily's way of saying, "How long is Daddy going to keep this up?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It may not seem like it but I do have a concept for this blog. First of all, I am writing about our (me, Bunny, Lily and Buffy) experiences adapting to all things Belgium. Secondly, I am devoting time and wasted energy to discussing all things Yankees (hard to believe I only have one article so far - but I do have a great Joe Torre the Passive Aggressive Whiner in the works) with all of my great hindsight knowledge. Additionally, I will have some book reviews, a record review entitled Second Chance Albums along with a ton of other random stuff. I may get political, I make talk about my family (lots of fun material there) but overall, my aim is for it to be readable and funny. But that will have to be determined by you the critics.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-2067710494691227825?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/2067710494691227825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/2067710494691227825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/11/belated-introduction-of-sorts-to-my.html' title='A Belated Introduction of Sorts To My Blog'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzodYyFMM6I/AAAAAAAAAPc/BK7Eogi9z0M/s72-c/The+Critic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-8072930876802450360</id><published>2007-11-13T22:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T22:39:55.740+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Lily In A Box</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzoZpCFMM5I/AAAAAAAAAPU/PlI9-saeJfc/s1600-h/Lily+Tupperware+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132442918066074514" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzoZpCFMM5I/AAAAAAAAAPU/PlI9-saeJfc/s320/Lily+Tupperware+1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Minna sent me an email today, and this was the first picture I saw attached with it. This is the box that holds all of Lily's toys... or it used to be... now it's Lily's favorite place to hang and chill. Some kids find cupboards, others shelves... my little girl hangs out in tupperware. Tonight, Minna and I were watching some tv with Lily when all of a sudden, she left our side of the room and crawled to the other to hang in her "crib." She's awesome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-8072930876802450360?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8072930876802450360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/8072930876802450360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/11/lily-in-box.html' title='Lily In A Box'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzoZpCFMM5I/AAAAAAAAAPU/PlI9-saeJfc/s72-c/Lily+Tupperware+1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-1295909290132222722</id><published>2007-11-13T21:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T23:12:12.236+01:00</updated><title type='text'>On Watching Television in Brussels</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzoW_iFMM4I/AAAAAAAAAPM/HKe5MkNjovM/s1600-h/booby+booba.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132440006078247810" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzoW_iFMM4I/AAAAAAAAAPM/HKe5MkNjovM/s320/booby+booba.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here in Brussels, we normally get two sets of the same channels, one in French, one in Flemish (Dutch). Both will show English/American shows but the French dubs them while the Flemish leave them in English. But for some reason, the French channels play American shows that the Flemish don't. The first one I think is hilarious is K2000. It's Knight Rider with David Hasselhoff. Same old show, just with French dubbed in and it's now one of my favorite shows to catch. My next favorite one is L'agence tous risques, which translates to the Agency All Risks... or as you may remember it being called, the A-Team. So the French channels really seem to vibe off of anything 80's-American-camp. The Flemish channels tend to have the more recent hits like Friends, the Simpsons and such all in English (Yeah!!!). We also have the Science Fiction channel and the Turner Classic Movie Channel. Minna's gotten addicted to the Detective Channel that has Murder She Wrote, Columbo and Monk. But sometimes we're not watching regular television shows but go to the local DVD store to rent a movie. Again, some of the translations are fantastic. The movie Bring It On, with Kirsten Dunst is called American Girls, which I think is absolutely hilarious. The Dukes of Hazzard is Shérif, fais-moi peur. Fever Pitch is Match Parfait... and so it goes. But all in all, my favorite television show is Booby Booba. Booby Booba are a brother and sister pair of puppets who meet a new and interesting friend each episode. Lily LOVES this show and when the theme song comes on, she starts flipping out and dancing. Here's a link to the English version. &lt;a href="http://www.babytvchannel.com/view_program.aspx?l=4&amp;amp;i=9&amp;amp;p=19&amp;amp;si=5"&gt;http://www.babytvchannel.com/view_program.aspx?l=4&amp;amp;i=9&amp;amp;p=19&amp;amp;si=5&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I tried to find the French or Flemish version that we get but when you are doing a google search on Booby Booba, you'd be surprised at some of the results you come up with... actually, I guess you wouldn't be surprised at all. Minna and I spend most of the time trying to figure out what the puppets behind Booby and Booba are supposed to be... one looks like, when honestly, it's kind of phallic shaped and the best thing we can come up with for it is that it's a paper towel holder or something like that. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;UPDATE - I was able to find the French link for Booba Booby... enjoy!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.babytvchannel.fr/view_program.aspx?l=4&amp;amp;i=5&amp;amp;si=5&amp;amp;p=19"&gt;http://www.babytvchannel.fr/view_program.aspx?l=4&amp;amp;i=5&amp;amp;si=5&amp;amp;p=19&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;UPDATE 2 - Here's the Flemish link... just so you get the full experience&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.babytvchannel.nl/view_program.aspx?l=4&amp;amp;i=5&amp;amp;si=5&amp;amp;p=19"&gt;http://www.babytvchannel.nl/view_program.aspx?l=4&amp;amp;i=5&amp;amp;si=5&amp;amp;p=19&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-1295909290132222722?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1295909290132222722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/1295909290132222722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/11/on-watching-television-in-brussels.html' title='On Watching Television in Brussels'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzoW_iFMM4I/AAAAAAAAAPM/HKe5MkNjovM/s72-c/booby+booba.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-6360949404174716965</id><published>2007-11-10T21:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-10T21:42:05.158+01:00</updated><title type='text'>On A-Rod Opting Out</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzYU7SFMM3I/AAAAAAAAAPE/mUX_XuWOdhc/s1600-h/Arod.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5131311834133705586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzYU7SFMM3I/AAAAAAAAAPE/mUX_XuWOdhc/s200/Arod.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When A-Rod announced he was opting out of his contract, I actually was pretty happy about it. I really don't have any anomosity towards him, I just never liked having him on the team. When the Yankees first acquired him, my first thoughts were that it was like when I played video baseball. No matter how hard I would try to play it realistically, I always ended up stacking my Yankee team with more all-stars then they already had. At one point I would be platooning Mike Piazza and Mark McGuire at DH and have Pedro Martinez, John Smoltz, Roger Clemons, Greg Maddux in my starting rotation. But I digress, having A-Rod on the team (with Bernie Williams, Jeter, Giambi and the rest made my real live Yankees the same as my video game team.   Although I never had Giambi because I thought that was the first of many missteps after the 2001 series, letting Tino Martinez go.  How good the Yanks would have been keeping him and letting him and Nick Johnson platoon.  But I digress...  Many Yankee fans will point out that the championship winning Yankee teams won without a whole lot of all-star calibar players.  I guess I can consider myself as being in that camp.  So I wasn't totally happy when the Yankees got him in the first place, although I did love the "sticking it to Boston" portion of it all. The only thing I never really accepted from him was the "slapping" the ball out of Arroyo's hands while running to first. Once that happened, I was pretty ok with the Yankees losing the playoffs to the Redsox. I didn't want to win that way.  And making me root for Boston to win for whatever reason leaves a bad taste in my mouth and I cannot easily let that go.  Regardless, A-Rod will move on to greener pastures... possibly rejoining Joe in Los Angeles.  Which by the way, what's with Don Mattingly, and Larry Bowa moving to LA with Joe?  Really!?  They were that offended by the Yankee management letting Joe go?  For most his reign as Yankee manager I liked Joe, but I would have let him go after 2004.  His playing the hurt puppy dog is another topic for another day.  Once more, I digress...Where A-Rod goes to is not a concern of mine.  There will be no anger, resentment or bitterness.  Even if he went to the Red Sox or Mets, the only thing that would do is give me more reasons to make fun of each of them for.  I am more curious as to how the Yankees handle his departure and choose his replacement.  Maybe the Yankees will continue to make smart choices (holding onto pitching prospects and such), and I don't think having Wilson Betemit at third is actually too scary of a notion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-6360949404174716965?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6360949404174716965'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6360949404174716965'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/11/on-rod-opting-out.html' title='On A-Rod Opting Out'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzYU7SFMM3I/AAAAAAAAAPE/mUX_XuWOdhc/s72-c/Arod.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-6101484120284803078</id><published>2007-11-09T08:55:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-09T09:20:40.092+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Talk About The Weather</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzQYDyFMM1I/AAAAAAAAAO0/HucIGAm_ANo/s1600-h/Rainbow+from+kitchen+window+001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130752328744055634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzQYDyFMM1I/AAAAAAAAAO0/HucIGAm_ANo/s320/Rainbow+from+kitchen+window+001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As the weather gradually turns into bonafide fall/winter here, my Belgium co-workers, almost with glee, will ask me daily how I still like living in Brussels. The sun doesn’t begin to rise until I am on my way to work and has set before I finish for the day. The rain has turned into this not completely pleasant mixture of water and ice that has a slushiness quality to it. Many of the locals cannot believe that we (on our own volition) gave up sunny-blue-sky-every-day Los Angeles for 300+ rainy-day-per-year Brussels. As a friend told me when I first moved to southern California, you wouldn’t believe how bored you become of a clear blue sky everyday. There is something to (living in Brussels) being surprised on a daily basis to what kind of day you’re going to be offered. Sometimes, we get five or six different types of weather on the same day.&lt;br /&gt;Now one thing that I notice when I ride the metro back and forth from work is how unprepared for the weather I am. People have scarves, winter coats, umbrellas, gloves, galoshes… something there really wasn’t a strong need for when living in LA. But then again, sometimes you get views from your window like the one I am showing here… and I can buy those things that I am missing… but you can’t put a price on views like this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-6101484120284803078?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6101484120284803078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/6101484120284803078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/11/talk-about-weather.html' title='Talk About The Weather'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzQYDyFMM1I/AAAAAAAAAO0/HucIGAm_ANo/s72-c/Rainbow+from+kitchen+window+001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7803766691151500318.post-7260209162850410520</id><published>2007-11-08T13:19:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T13:35:45.307+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Expectations</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzMCmiFMMrI/AAAAAAAAANg/v149HHpoIA4/s1600-h/A+Bunny+%26+A+Buffy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzMCmiFMMrI/AAAAAAAAANg/v149HHpoIA4/s200/A+Bunny+%26+A+Buffy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130447261511987890" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early in my marriage, I credited my wife with having more expectations from me then anyone else I've known.  This is the highest compliment I can give to her because up until I got together with her, I felt no one else in my life really expected much from me... thus, there were not a whole lot of reasons to improve my situation in life.  Additionally, I'd developed the belief that I was severely limited in what I could do to improve my position.  But when I got together with my wife, all of a sudden, this changed.  Now, someone envisioned changes, improvements I could not see.  I cannot emphasize enough the importance of having someone in your life that depends upon you.  Because if it is just you depending upon yourself... who is going to be there to your changes to matter?  Something I have said for awhile now regarding baseball, what non-Yankee fans don't get about Yankee fans is that Yankee fans EXPECT the Yankees to do well and to always be in World Series, let alone the playoffs (this is another story for another time) and that we don't rely on "hoping they are good this year."  This blog is dedicated to my Bunny for whom without this would not be worth writing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7803766691151500318-7260209162850410520?l=anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7260209162850410520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7803766691151500318/posts/default/7260209162850410520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://anexpatriateyankee.blogspot.com/2007/11/expectations.html' title='Expectations'/><author><name>James Holloway</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08074434176034746959</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VfTi21xpWxs/ThIF2ll8ObI/AAAAAAAACno/NwsLLRp5otg/s220/sportograf-18453841_lowres.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_vvoK1yOUbCQ/RzMCmiFMMrI/AAAAAAAAANg/v149HHpoIA4/s72-c/A+Bunny+%26+A+Buffy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
