Feb 152018

I am not a Constitutional scholar. I am not a lawyer. I haven’t spent years of my life dedicated to the understanding of the ways our system of laws work. I’m just a guy who, in all honesty, had his interest in the Founding Fathers sparked because of Hamilton: An American MusicalOver the course of the last year I’ve read Ron Chernow’s books on Hamilton and Washington. I’ve read the Constitution, the Declaration of Independence, and all the Amendments. I’ve read the Federalist papers.

At this moment, as we’re looking at another series of school shootings in our country, I’m particularly thinking about how everything I’ve read in the last year squares up with what our current situation is in this country.

Hamilton was opposed to a Bill of Rights for the Constitution, simply due to the fact that he was concerned it would set a precedent that would expand the powers of the Federal Government beyond what the Constitution intended. His reasoning was that, by declaring that the Government specifically could NOT pass legislation removing certain rights, the implication was that the Government HAD the power to pass laws not expressly forbidden by the amendments. The Government had, for example, no right to restrict the freedom of the press in the original document. It was, therefore, unnecessary for there to be an Amendment specifically stating that they could not do it. Fast Forward to now, and in order to prevent the Federal Government from passing a law restricting flag burning, for example, and you are forced to classify Flag Burning as “speech.”

Now take this data and turn it to guns. Here you have the opposite problem. Because the Bill of Rights specifically protects the right of the people to “keep and bear arms”, the Federal AND State Governments have found themselves in a situation where any attempt to pass reasonable gun legislation becomes a “Constitutional Crisis.” The truly amusing thing about all of this is that some people view the Second Amendment as proof the the Founders wanted everyone armed, when that is far from true. At the time the Constitution passed, all thirteen states had some sort of gun legislation in their Constitutions. Hamilton was terrified by the prospect of armed mobs. In many states, in order to own a gun you had to swear an oath of loyalty to the Confederacy.

And while I know this argument has been made, unsuccessfully, thousands of times…What the Founding Fathers viewed as “arms” back in the 1700’s and the weapons we have available to us today are so radically different as to be virtually unrecognizable in the same context. According to a completely random internet forum I just found using Google, a highly-skilled re-enactor can fire a flintlock rifle six times in one minute…while standing completely still…

Those are the “arms” the Second Amendment was written about.

Keep and bear those all you want, folks. That’s not at all what I’m worried about these days.

I don’t really have any sort of major point in writing this, or a solution, or…really anything. I’m numb, and I keep seeing people say that the solution is MORE guns and MORE metal detectors and MORE walls and fences and borders…and I just keep thinking…This is not the world we should want to live in. We shouldn’t need to be locked in amber to feel safe. I don’t want schools to be fortresses.

I want there to be less guns.

Much less.


But instead I’m thinking that I need to buy one.

So. There it is.

Dec 082017

Star Trek: Discovery is, in my opinion, the best Star Trek series since the original one. It might even be better than the original series, but it’s hard to top that since TOS was groundbreaking for the time. When I heard that CBS All Access was going to be showing the series exclusively through their subscription portal, I didn’t even hesitate to re-activate our account. It was last used to watch the most recent season of The Amazing Race, as we do not have cable, satellite, or a functioning antenna to catch over-the-air transmissions. I didn’t even think twice about it, because this is how we consume media these days. If there is a series on we want to see through a platform we don’t have access to we pay for it while the show is on and, when it’s over, we shut the service back off again.

It works well for us, because we don’t end up paying for services we don’t want.

Based on the number of people who want to burn the CBS studios to the ground over this decision, though, I guess we’re in the minority. I just don’t get it. People are enraged over the fact that a Star Trek series isn’t available for FREE.

Except, it never HAS been. Nothing in life is.

If you’re a subscriber to cable or a satellite service you’re paying for CBS.

If you’re watching a series on Hulu, Netflix or Amazon, you’re paying for those services.

You can make the argument that watching CBS using an antenna is free, but you’re still watching commercials…you’re paying for those shows by consuming advertisements.

Star Trek has never, ever, been “free.”

What’s more, I frankly don’t understand the outrage even if this was some kind of radical departure from conventional business practices. The commercial-free version of CBS All Access is roughly 10 bucks a month. For every month that the show runs, you get five hours of content for $10, IF the only thing you watch is Discovery. You’d pay the same, or more, to go see a first-run movie in a theater. I’ve seen people talk about waiting until the DVD comes out and buying it. Admittedly a cheaper option, if you don’t mind waiting to see if CBS makes it an option (something that, at this point, is unclear).

The folks that amuse me the most, though, are the ones who say they will wait until it comes to [insert streaming service here].

Really, though, I get kind of grossed out by the sheer entitlement of it all. Like these people deserve to see Star Trek, and it’s a personal affront if they must change their viewing habits in order to see it.

But then again, geeks are an odd bunch.

Dec 062017

I don’t remember exactly when this happened, but I believe it was in the Fall of 1993. I was living in Polk County at the time, working overnights at a plastics plant in Lakes Wales while attending school full time at the Polk Community College. For, perhaps, the first time outside of my early childhood I was at a healthy weight and exercising on a regular basis (it was, for the record, Slim-Fast that time…not something I’d suggest trying in retrospect). I was living with my friend and co-worker Bill in a nice apartment that we managed to keep clean. We had a decent sound system and an entire wall of VHS tapes and CD’s to entertain us. I had a comic subscription at an awesome shop in downtown Winter Haven, and had established a small circle of Polk County folks to play games with on a regular basis.

It was my first real taste of being a grown-up. Of independence. It was great.

I made regular pilgrimages back to St. Petersburg on the weekend to stay with my Mother for a few days and see my friends. On one of those weekends, I was running around by myself all day on a Saturday with the windows down, enjoying the alternative music programming that was on 88.5 WMNF. My hair was long, and my grunge look was in full effect. I felt good about myself and what I had accomplished. I was smiling and singing with the radio, when it suddenly hit me…

I liked me.

That thought had never occurred to me before, and there have been many times since that I’ve forgotten it, but in that very moment I was utterly and completely happy to know myself. “Here’s a guy,” I thought, “who I would enjoy hanging out with. He’s pretty damned cool.”

I think that for most of us it is rare to have those moments. I think it’s even harder to today, with the proliferation of technology. I was forced to be in my own head that day. I couldn’t distract myself with social media or handheld games. It was just me, myself, and I. No talking. No texting. No phone calls. Just spending time getting to know the person who lives in my head and discovering that he’s a person I am happy to know.

This isn’t a screed against technology by any means. It was just something that occurred to me earlier today as I was driving to work…

Listening to music.

Singing along.

Just alone in my head…in my car…having a moment like I did 24 years ago…

And realizing that I still find myself to be a pretty nifty guy.

Dec 052017

I do not understand blind loyalty.

My wife and I have a group text going with my Uncle, where we coordinate going to see movies and discuss things that we all have a common interest in (the primary categories being Marvel movies, sports, and technology). The other night he excitedly sent a text message to us about the fact that Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. was on. I replied that, after a few episodes, we had given up on the show because it had not sparked our interest.

You’d have thought I slapped his baby. Considering the fact that he doesn’t have children or pets, maybe I did.

A brief (and, I feel the need to point out, good natured) argument ensued about the fact that I should be Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and, for that matter, The Inhumans, because…Marvel. Really, that pretty much seems to be the extent of the argument. I love Marvel comics, and I love the movies, so as a result I should watch anything even tangentially related to those two things.

Not my style.  When it comes to entertainment I’m particularly picky in that regard. I’m not going to support something just because I, in theory, should. If a Marvel series sucks, I’m not watching it. If a Marvel movie doesn’t work for me, I’m going to say so (I’m looking at you, Thor: Ragnarok). If my local sports franchises suck I’m not going to waste my time watching them on television, and I’m certainly not dropping the significant coin required to see them play live (and if, for some reason, a sports franchise from another metropolitan area is doing well and catches my attention I’ll feel no guilt about rooting that team on).

If I have learned anything balancing work, school, family, and acting over the last 16 years, it’s that the single most precious thing in my life is my time. It’s a gift I can give to the people who care about me, and it’s a commodity I stockpile because there are periods when I feel like I simply do not have enough of it. I’m certainly not going to spend it consuming entertainment out of some sense of loyalty if it isn’t actually worth the investment.


Dec 042017

250 words.

On the surface it doesn’t seem that hard, and yet I’m sitting here wondering what the hell I was thinking when I decided to take on this “challenge.”

Let me back up a step.

A few weeks ago Sam Falco, a friend and (if I’m being honest) someone who I consider to be a bit of a mentor, tweeted about a 14-day, 250 words per day writing challenge that he was taking on. The point was just to write, essentially. Kind of like Morning Pages, I suppose, but instead of being stream-of-consciousness writing that nobody was supposed to read the point was to get the work out there in front of others.  I kept tabs on him during the challenge, making sure to poke him when I hadn’t seen a post go up on a given day and thoroughly enjoying what he put out there. Several of the pieces he wrote made me want to reply in kind, but mostly it just reminded me of how much I used to write back before the days of Twitter and Facebook.

I miss those days.

All those factors combine with another pretty big one. Today is the first day, pretty much since 2001, that I am no longer a student. I have completed the coursework for my second Masters degree, and I am just waiting for the final grades to come in before I can officially say I have earned my Masters in Business Administration. It’s been a very long, very hard, and very expensive journey. It feels odd to know that part of my life is over. On the plus side, I have a very strong desire to put some of the things back into my life that went by the wayside while I was finishing up school. Acting, for one. Reading for pleasure is a big one in there too. And, of course, my writing.

So. 14-day challenge. I’m generally scornful of the whole challenge thing, so we’ll see what happens. I may end up cheating and pulling out a few of the many unfinished drafts that are clogging up my WordPress Administrator, but we’ll see. Maybe I’ll just enjoy expressing myself in more than 280 characters for a change.

We’ll see.

The song currently stuck in my head is…

Sep 172017

It has been, quite literally, years since I have sat down to write anything for personal reasons. I’ve written for work, and I’ve written for school, but beyond occasional forays in attempting to update my Morning Pages, I haven’t sat down to just write about or for myself. I don’t know exactly why, to be honest. I mean, I have theories. Lack of anyone actually giving a shit about what I have to say pretty much tops that list. In the world of social media, long form personal posts seem like quaint old relics from days gone by, and the effort that goes into creating them seems wasted. After all, if we’re being completely honest with ourselves, having an audience is really the only reason one writes for public consumption.


I’m also tired. So very tired. I’m in the final semester of my educational career. I have eleven more weeks of what looks to be an absolute grind before I finish my Masters of Business Administration at the University of Maryland University College. I took a three-year break from school after earning my Associates Degree in 2008, and with the exception of one semester have been in school non-stop since the Spring of 2011. In that time I’ve earned a Bachelor’s Degree and my first Master’s Degree. When I considered my current career path it made sense to enroll in the Dual MBA program at my school and take on another year of courses, but I’d be lying if I said that it hasn’t been a monumental challenge to keep up. Every time I look at the course work for this final class I feel an overwhelming sense of anxiety and wonder if there is any possible way I can get everything done. I’ve had this feeling often throughout my academic career, and my wife always reminded me that every time I’ve felt that way I’ve proved myself wrong, but this time feels different.


I suppose it always does.


I’m going to be glad when it is over, though. I’m ready for the next chapter of my life, the one that doesn’t involve going to school, to begin. I’m ready to get back on stage (I decided, after realizing how intense the DMBA program was, not to audition for any more shows in 2017). I’m ready to take vacations where I don’t have to worry about having an Internet connection so that I can log in and get course work done. I’m ready to try and find a love of reading again, because the amount I’ve had to do for school has made me absolutely loathe picking up a book unless I absolutely have to. I’m just ready to move on.


Of course moving on from school means facing the reality of paying back my student loans, which at this point are the equivalent of a second mortgage, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Unlike many folks who graduate from school with large debt, I’ve already established a career that will, at the very least, make it somewhat less painful to pay them back.


My current state of tiredness is also the result of a much more immediate situation. Last week, Hurricane Irma decided to pay a visit to our state. When the track shifted to put the eye directly over our area late Friday night, Lisa and I decided that it was wise to get the hell out of dodge. We packed up the animals and my son and took off to shelter with friends in Jacksonville. Ironically, the storm seemed to take a much harsher toll on that area, mainly due to flooding, but we still came through unscathed. When we returned home on Tuesday our power was out, and it wasn’t restored until days later. I’m incredibly grateful that a loss of electricity was the worst damage we faced as a result of the storm, but I cannot emphasize enough the amount of psychological stress I feel during power outages. It’s hard to explain in a way that doesn’t make me sound like a spoiled, petulant brat. Our home is my sanctuary. In a world where I often feel I have very little control over my destiny, the house we share is a place where I feel I have control. It’s clean and orderly, because that makes us happy. It’s filled with things that are important to us. It’s where we spend the majority of our time together, and to be perfectly honest spending time at home with Lisa is pretty much my favorite thing in the entire universe. When that is disrupted, say with a lack of electricity, I am an absolute mess. When I don’t look forward to going home at night, I cannot think straight. I’m irritable. I’m distracted. It’s just a horrible experience for me, and I’m sure everyone around me. Even now, several days after the storm has passed and power has been restored, I’m still off-kilter. I’m sure the fact that I ate a bunch of really horrible food and drank way too much during the days of the storm isn’t helping, either.


It’s funny, though. One of my biggest issues about dealing with the lack of power is the accompanying lack of air conditioning, but as I write this I’m voluntarily sitting outside and it’s pretty damned hot. I suppose it’s ultimately the difference between choosing to sit outside in the heat and being forced to because it’s even more miserably oppressive inside.


I also have a fan on, so there’s that.


I don’t know. Maybe some of how I’m feeling is straight-up mid-life crisis. I’m staring down the barrel of 45. I’ve accomplished a hell of a lot in my life, I know, and I’m well aware that a good deal of what I’ve accomplished is because I’ve busted my ass to get here. I’ve been a good employee and a good student. I’ve done my best to be a good husband and a good father, but I’ve screwed that up on more than one occasion. I see those meme’s that ask whether or not the eight-year old version of you would be proud of where you are now, and I just don’t know. I mean, I’m not a Jedi so that would certainly be a bummer for him. But what would he say about me being an Agile Coach? What would he think about the fact that I’m not a famous actor or some sort of world-class software developer? What would he think about how my love for all things “geek” has diminished significantly over the course of the last few years? Would he think I was lame?


Hard to say, really. Unlike many people I know, I don’t actually look back on my childhood/teenage self with fondness. I was…kind of horrible really, both physically and mentally. I was a spoiled, selfish brat, and (especially in my teenage years) the epitome of the much-reviled nerdy “nice guy.” So, really, if the younger version of me wouldn’t be impressed with middle-aged me, that might not be such a bad thing.


But where do I go from here? I’ve got a fantastic career, with a company that I can honestly say I’d be content working for until I retire in 20 (or more) years. I have an amazing wife. I have a home. My son, despite some rocky years there at the end of his teens, is happy and doing well living on his own. I take multiple vacations every year. I don’t have to worry about paying the bills or keeping food on the table. I can pretty much indulge myself on any minor purchase that may flit its way through my head, which has for years been my benchmark of true “success” in life (I’ve always said that I’d know I’d made it when I could walk into a book store and purchase any book I wanted without having to worry about whether or not I could actually afford it…the irony there being that, as I mentioned above, I really don’t like reading very much any more). While I’m not a household name, I have had a long and successful career acting professionally in the Tampa Bay area, and the main hallway in our home is adorned with posters from the many shows I have been in over the course of the last sixteen years.


So, in the immortal words of Josiah Bartlett, “What’s Next?”


It’s a question I don’t know the answer to. Perhaps when I decide to write another blog post in two years I’ll have figured it out.

Sep 032015


It’s 6 AM on the day before Dragon Con here in Atlanta. I had a crappy night of sleep due to some poor dining choices I made yesterday, and I haven’t even finished my first cup of coffee yet, so there’s a very real possibility that this post is going to get a little cranky.

But the subject makes me cranky, so it might have gone that way regardless.

After doing a major pruning of my friends list I started using Facebook again about a month ago. For the most part? It’s been a pretty pleasant experience. I no longer have to skim through pages of updates and posts that I really didn’t give a crap about to see updates from people who I actually want to stay connected to. That’s cool. Thing is, I still see some things that get my blood boiling. One of those things can be summed up in the use of the #AllLivesMatter hashtag (or the general attitude that is represented by that hashtag, even if it isn’t being used).

I want to say I get it, and that I understand the frustration, but I simply don’t. I can’t see how, with the massive amount of information we as a a people we have available to us in the information age, it’s not possible to see how there are major issues in our country regarding race that simply can’t be wiped away by insisting that people “stop playing the race card.”

What really bugs me about this is that more often than not this quiet racism is cloaked in comments about (primarily) African-American and Latino culture here in the country. “Those people” would do so much better in their lives if they would just “pull their pants up”, “learn how to speak properly”, and “stop acting like thugs.”

So, in other words, they should act more like a proper white person.

Ironically, these same people never seem to make those kind of comments about other whites unless said caucasian acts “ghetto”. I mean, while there are certainly exceptions to the rule you don’t often see your typical trailer park redneck contribute much to the betterment of society. See a picture of a white guy holding an assault rifle and standing in front of his pick up truck? Many likes! Yay, America! See a picture of a black guy holding the same rifle in front of his BMW? OMG THUGS!!

It’s gross.

I guess I’m speaking up about this now, and in a very public way, because I’ve had a bit of a personal epiphany. Not too long ago I had a relative refer to an African-American woman who was in an old velvet painting as a “jungle bunny.” He did this in my house, within earshot of children, and I said nothing. I’ve been disgusted with myself ever since. I’ve put up with this kind of thing from people I know for far too long, and I simply can’t ignore it any more. Which means I’m likely to continue having some very awkward conversations with people who I genuinely care for if I continue using Facebook.

Or I’m just going to unfriend them…or leave the service altogether.

I frankly don’t know.

What I do know is that I can no longer sit by while the pigs take over the farm.

Feb 022015


I wrote the following as one of my assignments in my Orientation to Graduate Studies class at the University of Maryland University College. The goal was to write an article in the style of the “This I Believe” series by Edward R. Murrow. Unfortunately after I finished my essay and turned it in I realized that the assignment had been to write something about our professional beliefs and not a personal one, so I had to scrap the assignment and write another one in about 10 minutes (which, for the record, I got a 98% on). I really liked what I wrote in my original essay, though, and I wanted to share it here.

Fair warning – It’s mushy.

Continue reading »

Jan 132015
Image courtesy of Bruce Sallan - http://www.brucesallan.com/2012/03/25/are-you-a-socialmedia-addict/

Image courtesy of Bruce Sallan – http://www.brucesallan.com/2012/03/25/are-you-a-socialmedia-addict/

The company I work for considers themselves to be a Gallup Strengths-Based organization. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the concept, the long and the short of it is that the Gallup organization has a list of 34 traits that are apparently common in all people. These traits are referred to as strengths. When the company you work for decides that they want to become a strength-based organization (or you decide you want to find out what your strengths are on your own), you take a test and you get a list of the 34 strengths in in the order that they apply to you.

My number one strength is Input. What follows is a description of the type of person who has Input as one of their top strengths, according to the Gallup organization.

You are inquisitive. You collect things. You might collect information — words, facts, books, and quotations — or you might collect tangible objects such as butterflies, baseball cards, porcelain dolls, or sepia photographs. Whatever you collect, you collect it because it interests you. And yours is the kind of mind that finds so many things interesting. The world is exciting precisely because of its infinite variety and complexity. If you read a great deal, it is not necessarily to refine your theories but, rather, to add more information to your archives. If you like to travel, it is because each new location offers novel artifacts and facts. These can be acquired and then stored away. Why are they worth storing? At the time of storing it is often hard to say exactly when or why you might need them, but who knows when they might become useful? With all those possible uses in mind, you really don’t feel comfortable throwing anything away. So you keep acquiring and compiling and filing stuff away. It’s interesting. It keeps your mind fresh. And perhaps one day some of it will prove valuable.

I, without a doubt, fall into the former category of collectors. I collect information. I used to collect things, but I had a change of heart about that a few years ago and really try to live my life amassing as little stuff as possible. But information? Oh, I collect information. I want to know…well, everything. I ask questions constantly. In many ways, I’m like a child. I constantly want to know why.

I’m still not entirely sure why Gallup considers this a “strength.”

Continue reading »

Oct 012014

Every once in a while I think about deleting all of the posts on my blog.

It’s not a matter of being embarrassed about the content here or anything like that. I’ve written before about how I’m not a fan of people who try to ret-con their online lives, and I still feel that way. There are posts out there that I’ve removed for professional reasons, but for the most part if you were really inclined you could use this site to look back over the last 15 years of my life and, I’m sure, get a kick out of how stupid much of it has been.

No, if I’m being honest the reason I think about deleting the history here is because I’m lazy. See, the fact is that many of the older posts here were written on my now-inactive LiveJournal blog. They are improperly formatted, contain broken images, are untagged, and generally a complete mess.

This fact bugs me, you see, because those posts aren’t pretty.

Yes, I’m vain. I like the way my blog looks. Those old posts are an eyesore, and the amount of work required to fix them is pretty damned extensive. The easiest solution would be to simply eradicated any content that existed prior to me switching to WordPress.

The conundrum, of course, is that I’m under some kind of illusion that some of that content is actually good, and I won’t know that until I’ve finished going through it all.

So, no. I won’t be deleting all those old posts.

But damn, is it tempting.