Oops - Almost Forgot . . .

So, I was sitting here admiring my handywork, when I realized that you'll probably end up wondering where I came up with such a dorky name for the site. Well, first, allow me to clarify that, despite rumors to the contrary, I have no grudge against Gilbert Arenas, nor do I have a problem with that silly-looking little man behind the curtain in Oz.

The name comes from a hockey player I used to cover by during my days as a sportswriter. After the games, we reporters would go in and talk to the coach – who went by his initials: R.P. – and get his quotes about the game. Then we would into the locker room and talk to the players.

Well, this player – a goalie named Phil – pretty much hated R.P. I surmised this, when while out drinking after a game one night, he told me, “I fucking hate R.P.” I never quite found out exactly why this was, though my best – and most likely guess – was that because Phil was a highly regarded prospect at the time and felt that his time with this minor-league team was just a small speed bump on his way to the NHL. Unfortunately, his play was a slightly larger speed bump - and R.P. was quick to notice this - as was everyone else without impaired vision who watched him.

Anyhow, after one particularly bad game by Phil, he was pulled by R.P. for a younger prospect – who ironically, went on to have a very successful NHL career. After the game and our post game talk with R.P., we went into the locker room to talk with Phil, who immediately asked - with as much disdain as he could muster, “Well, what did the Wizard have to say?” Of course, since Phil was from Quebec and had a fairly heavy French-Canadian accent, we all got a chuckle out of this, (though we're pretty sure he thought we were laughing because we thought he was so funny and not - as was actually the case - because he pronounced it "Wee-zard"). Subsequently, Phil would refer to R.P. as “The Wizard” to us from then until his departure from the team at the end of the season. And we would all go on to laugh at his expense for years to follow.

So, that's it - not a particularly interesting story to anyone who wasn’t there, I suppose – but it amuses me and that’s all I care about.

Like A Phoenix Rising From Arizona . . .

You know . . . given the fact that I’ve thought about starting up another blog on and off for the last year or so, you’d think that I would have come up with something earth-shattering to write about in my maiden post.

Of course, you would be incorrect.

So, whilst I continue to work off the keyboard rust – I’ll start off with a little bit about myself – both to introduce myself those who are reading me for the first time – and to refresh the memories of those of you who are coming over from my other site . . . and will subsequently be leaving shortly thereafter.

As I kind of just mentioned - this is my second attempt at blogging. My first blog ended after it indirectly cost me a shot at a job with a certain very popular racing organization in town. (I say indirectly, in that I really don’t think it had anything to do with it at all, other than it gave my shrew of a boss an excuse to get rid of me).

In any event, that mess, coupled with the myriad tasks associated with fatherhood, and – of course – finding a new job eventually put a crimp in my writing time and overall creativity, so I decided it was best that my site and I parted ways for the time being.

Now, some three and a half years later, enough time has passed that I’m ready – or so I think – to give this blogging thing another shot. May God have mercy on us all.

So, about me – I’m a late 30-something or other, married to a wonderful woman with two beautiful children, who – as far as I know – are mine. I will neither name them nor myself, for that matter, in this blog, since God-forbid I find myself in another situation where I’m at a job and some dopey twit who can’t come to terms with her attraction to me decides to get me fired because of some innocuous post about wanting to get hired full-time at the job I had already been working my ass off at for six months prior.

(Sorry, I ramble a bit when that topic comes up. Four years later - you think I'd be over it by now. But I digress . . .)

Anyhow, my family is great and they tolerate me more than any three people should have to – though it should be mentioned that the two children really don’t have much say in the matter – at least until they’re old enough to better understand what a lunatic their father is.

The best way to describe myself is that I’m a fairly conflicted person. I’m warm-hearted, but often angry; I’m mellow, but constantly stressed; I’m ambitious but lazy; I want friends, but am generally annoyed with most people. In other words, I’m pretty much a walking contradiction
I do have a Myspace page, but rarely if ever use it. I may finish it someday, but who knows? For the most part, I think that Myspace is the most annoying creation ever and I’m fairly certain that the guy who created it is the anti-Christ. Granted, I have no actual proof of this, mind you – but again – I’m fairly certain.

(That being said, the one thing I do find pretty cool about it is that, despite the fact that I’m practically never on my page and have made no effort at all to make friends with anyone except the three people I know who have pages, I regularly get 2 to 5 requests a week from these smoking hot chicks wanting me to add them to my friend list and inviting me to watch them and their equally hot friends on their web and shower cams. I mean, I’m a happily married man, so I would never take any of these ladies up on their offers, but still – I find it quite flattering).

Oh, yeah and I hate driving.

But I’ll get into that more down the road.

Trust me.