Why?

Why does my head sweat when I eat spicey food? Mind you, I like it pretty hot...but why does it make my head sweat? Hmmm....

Torture Inc., part two

There is an interesting little read from the BBC...lord knows you can't trust them...

It's an interview with a top aide to Colin Powell. He flat out accuses Cheney of breaking U.S. laws and stops inches short of accusing him of war crimes. Read it, or don't...whatever...it's a free country...for now...

Torture Inc.

So, this comment is from a State Department spokesman concerning the use of not so secret anymore torture centers the U.S. set up in Eastern Europe.

This is a struggle that all free countries, including the countries of Europe, share with us: How to deal with groups of people, individuals, that respect no law, that wear no uniform, that follow no regulations, and how do we as a country and how do we as countries that abide by the rule of law that follow -- that abide by our international obligations and abide by our constitutions? How do we deal with that?

It just makes me wonder how we're supposed to deal with it when it's the President of the United States signing off on torture... Is there a hell hot enough for such a person?

Once again, that was..."groups of people, individuals, that respect no law, that wear no uniform, that follow no regulations..." Sound like anyone familiar?

Current favorites spots you're reading this at...

I'm still amazed by the concept that I can write some inane thought here and, within seconds, some bored sole in Kuala Lampur can read it and think, 'Well, at least my life isn't that dull...' What a miraculous world we live in.

That said...my current favorite spots that have appeared in my logs lately are:

• Matsumoto, Nagano, Japan


• Mauritus


• Richmond, Tasmania


• Delhi, India


• Dubai, United Arab Emirates

That's right, I'm international. International and proud. In the past I've had visits from Germany, France, England, Italy, and Brazil.

I should also give a nod to my friends up North who hail from such cool places as Moose Jaw, Whitehorse, and Ontario.

It really is an amazing world.

Je deteste...

I went out on Friday morning, rolling into the shopping melee that pretty much passes for a cultural event in America these days. This was not because I'm a masochist, or an Uber-shopper, but because I needed to try and find a computer part and I was going to my parent's in the afternoon. So, morning trip it was.

I didn't find the part, so I wandered over to Kohl's (a midwest store that used to be all about groceries, but is now all about clothes and other department store stuff...an odd transformation if ever there was one...) to see if I could grap a new pair of Levis. I actually need the Levis, it wasn't entirely because I didn't want to do laundry.

I got into the store, put my head down and blasted over to the men's department. Grabbing the jeans, I turned and for the first time saw the utter ridiculosity (I was a sports writer...I'm allowed to make up words...) of the situation.

The line snaked to the back of the store. Fatties as far as the eye could see...clutching their doorbuster deals tight to their corpulent selves. Not an ounce of joy slipped from any of those porky lips. (At this point, I should tell you that I'm really not playing up the extra pounds for a laugh. The majority of the people in line - mainly surly looking women, I might add - were obese.)

The jeans were left somewhere between the men's department and the door. I fled...

I would further describe the horror, but this guy does a much better job of it. I refer you to him.

0 for 3

I've gone 0-3 on my holiday plans...didn't do drinks with Gregg, Thanksgiving dinner was postponed a day, and last night it was snowing a bunch, so I didn't see Eileen. Go figure.

Despite that, it wasn't all bad. Still went out on Thanksgiving Eve. I suppose it could be called Tanksgiving, since that's what everyone was busy doing...getting tanked. Ran into some people I haven't seen in a while. Thanksgiving was postponed a day, so Thursday turned into a Shawn's gonna start learning to use Flash kind of day. My favorite pub open that night, so out I went and had a great time...again running into some friends. Friday, went to the folks house and did the dinner thing. Then it started snowing and it was getting late, so no drive through the backroads of Wisconsin to see my friend visiting her folks.

So, now it's Saturday...who knows what's gonna happen...I just know that I'm not going to try and plan ahead...not with my recent record...

Happy Thanksgiving and Stuff(ing)

Hope everyone has a great holiday. I'm going to go out to buy expensive drinks for my friend Gregg tonight, see my folks and family tomorrow, and likely see my friend Eileen on Friday.

I leave you with my kind of turkey...watch your backs or he'll kick your ass.

Cheers.

*****Note*****
If you came by earlier, your eyes are not betraying you...the gun toting turkey is indeed now moving. My day wouldn't be complete without some tinkering around.

Nice day, but...

The shadows are long and it's only 3:15. I'm not a big fan of this time of year. I like long days too much.

But, since it is Thanksgiving coming up, I should toss out a couple of thankful fors...

I'm glad I have pretty good friends and family. It's a nice thing to have people you care about and that care about you. I'm glad that I've got my health and I'm mostly in pretty okay shape. I'm thankful that there are still people who choose love over hate, even in trying times. And I'm thankful that the world is more good than bad.

Got anything to add?

Cheers.

Please don't be offended if I don't call...your number's in my fridge

It was one of those weekends...

Why they happen when I drag myself out to the pub looking like ass is beyond me, although it does fit into the philosophy of 'The Tao of Steve.' Anyway, it's all too sordid and risque to repeat here, so I'll just leave you with the knowledge that the title of this post really does say it all...

Sometimes single is a good way to be.

p.s. - For those of you who may know of my Moment of Godlike Clarity and the followup on New Year's Eve...consider this the next installment.

America's Sweetheart was Canadian...

This is a special nod to the North...apparently, there are some Canucks who wanted to see some Canadian representation in the smart and beautiful listings.

That said, today I bring you 'America's Sweetheart.'

Ummm...Shawn...didn't you just say you were taking us up North? Yeah, I did. That's why I have to tell you that America's Sweetheart was Canadian.

Gladys Marie Smith was not only adored by the masses, she was also a keen business woman. Born on April 9, 1893, in Toronto, Ontario, young Gladys was destined to prove that child actors don't all grow up to be Danny Bonaduce.

She started acting in a Toronto stock company and from there went on to some leading roles in New York. She began her film career in 'Her First Biscuits' in 1907. She was directed by D.W. Griffith (who went on to direct the seminal, 'Birth of a Nation'). By 1909, she had starred in 'Mrs. Jones Entertains,' under the name Dorothy Nicholson. She appeared in 51 films that year. She was working under Griffith at Biograph Company. In 1910, she appeared in 49 films. In 1911, she left Biograph and went to work with Carl Laemmle (the father of Universal Studios). She returned to Biograph after a year and went on to work with other companies, directors and producers, including the legendary Adolf Zukor.

Anyone who didn't see young Gladys' drive and ambition, must not have been looking. She clearly had plenty of both. If you count backward from 1919 to her birth in 1893, you'll come up with the age she was when she joined two of the biggest names in Hollywood and founded what would become one of the big studios. Who was this plucky 26 year old actress?

Gladys Marie Smith was better known to millions as Mary Pickford, or simply, America's Sweetheart. She was one of the biggest names in silent movies. Her place at the top of the Hollywood heap was challenged by only a few. Two of those fellow actors - Charlie Chaplin and Douglas Fairbanks - became her partners in the founding of United Artists. Fairbanks was, later, her husband for 16 years.

Her silent movie work made her a star. She starred in many silents, including: 'The New York Hat,' 'Tess of Stormy Country,' Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm,' 'Poor Little Rich Girl,' and 'Daddy Long Legs.'

By the year 1916. Pickford was making nearly $150,000 a year - the average family income was about $2,000 a year. She earned $2,000 a week and then received a $10,000 bonus at the completion of each film.

It was also, during this time that Pickford began working with a young female screenwriter, Frances Marion (*stay tuned for more on Frances Marion), who would become one of Pickford's closest friends and one of the most highly regarded writers in Hollywood history. This is just an example of Pickford's near obsession with surrounding herself with the best talent in the industry.

Her performance in the sound film, 'Coquette' cemented her position in the pantheon of Hollywood deities. She won an Academy Award for that performance - the first one given for an actress in a talkie. Pickford was one of 36 founding members of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. She and her husband, Fairbanks, were the first two stars to officially put their hand and footprints in the cement in front of Grauman's Chinese Theater in 1927.

In addition to founding United Artists and helping start the Academy, Pickford and Fairbanks built a lavish mansion, known as Pickfair, which became a center of the Hollywood social scene and the scene of many raucous parties.

Pickford retired from acting in 1934, after making 'Star Night at the Cocoanut Grove.' After divorcing Fairbanks, Pickford went on to marry Charles 'Buddy' Rogers ('Wings,' 'My Best Girl'). Although she is widely remembered for her sweet, and often Pollyanaish, portrayals of heroines, Mary Pickford was also the most powerful and influential woman in Hollywood history.

She received a Lifetime Achievement Oscar in 1976. She died in Santa Monica on May 29, 1979. For more information about Pickford's life and charitable works, go to Mary Pickford.com.

First off...

Thanks for all the nice comments. They all mean a lot.

For anyone worried that I'm planning on giving all my belongings away and joining up with the shaved-head Hari Krishnas...worry no more.

Mostly, I've just been trying to look at myself and figure out what it is I want. Sure, money is part of it...but a small part. Prestige is a small, tiny part of it. Basically, I have all the desires we all have, but it's just time to put them into line. Instead of pursuing them all, or none of them...I just want to figure out the important ones and not waste time chasing shiney objects.

The first step is, of course, figuring out what those priorities are. After that, the biggest step is leaving where I'm at...jumping back in the stream, as it were. Anyway, some will say to figure out the destination, jump in and start paddling - others will say, jump in and start paddling and then figure the destination. Both are valid...though, I think I'll be doing the jump in and figure it out later thing myself.

Anyway, thanks for taking time to read my confessions and for coming back to see what else is in store...just know that your presence makes the journey easier...cheers...

My parents expected a lot from me. Not in a harsh way, but in a way that was always hanging in the air. They sacrificed a lot to make my life better. And I let them down.I don't know exactly what they wanted for me, but I know it's not what I've accomplished so far.

I had a girlfriend in high school, Becky, and I know she thought I could achieve some great things. I let her down.

Later, I had a girlfriend, Coleen, who believed in me. She was ready to share her life with me. I let her down. She moved on and made a life for herself. I saw her a while back and I was embarrassed because I could feel her disappointment. It wasn't expressed, but it hung thick in the air. That still haunts me.

I went a long time, never getting close enough to let someone else down. I didn't really know that's what I was doing, but it was. For a long time I didn't let anyone close enough to be let down. Even when I lived with a woman for nearly three years, that wall was there. I lowered my expectations to create a safe little world for myself.

It was a long time before I met someone who challenged me. Someone who expected more of me than I did. I loved her more than words could express. I still do, and I think she knows it in her soul. In some strange way, I know she really doesn't want to hear from me until I've lived up to my potential. Rebecca, I know you're out there and I love you for believing in me. And, remarkably, I know you still believe in me.

I had a boss at the same time who expected more from me too.

Kevin and I worked together in his frame shop for five years. One day, he fired me. It wasn't because I wasn't doing the job, but rather because he knew I was hiding in that job. He told me to take some time off, collect unemployment and figure out what I needed to do. He gave me a gift of love, and eight years later, I still haven't repayed it.

One night, sitting outside the paper I worked at, my friend Josh told me I was wasting my time doing what I was doing. He probably doesn't even remember it, but he was right. It's been several years since then.

Tonight I was told to get the fuck out by my friend Gregg. I've never cried at a bar, but I did tonight. But he was right. This isn't my town. This isn't my life. I need to move on and stop hiding here. I started to promise to do something big, something great, and he stopped me.

'I don't care about that shit,' he said. 'Just stop. Just fucking stop. Stop fucking doing what you're doing and be something. It fucking breaks my heart that you're cleaning carpets, working for your brother. I belong here, I know my place here. You don't belong here. I should be living my life vicariously through you. Just stop. Don't let me down, just don't let me down.'

I don't know. He's right. All my friends throughout my life have been right. I need to think a bit. Maybe I'll be back tomorrow, or the next day, or never...but I want to share a small piece of friendship with you all before I take some time out.

Thank you all for just being yourselves. We all have a special spark in us and we should cherish it. No one is here for long, a few years, a few decades, whatever...when we go there will only be some memories, and then those will be gone too.

Have you done everything you could today? Probably not. Neither have I. What are we waiting for? Just do it. Hug your kid. Call your Mom. Call a friend. Mend a fence.

Embarrassed? Who gives a shit...just do it. Just do what something you know you want to do, but you're scared of.

Do it.

You'll probably look the fool, but who really cares? Just fucking do it...

Recent reading...

I like to read. It makes me feel good when I learn new things. I also have a bit of a fear of saying something wrong. Along with an pretty strong sense of curiousity, I also have a high degree of skepticism built into my system.

Reading fills some of my needs, so I guess I'll be reading for life - literally and figuratively.

I wish there was rhyme or reason to my reading habits, but there's not. Generally speaking, I find something that interests me and become nearly obsessed with it. Then, once I reach a certain level of knowledge on the subject, I usually lose interest and move on. Sometimes I return, but often I'm left with a sophomore level knowledge of many things.

Some of my latest reads have been:

Our Endangered Values - Jimmy Carter
SUSE Linux 9 Bible - Several authors
The Pleasure Of My Company - Steve Martin
Survivor - Chuck Palahniuk
Mind Of Clear Light (Advice on Living Well and Dying Conciously) - His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Anyway, I guess I don't understand people who don't want to know. They're out there and they are many...these people who would just rather not know. They don't want anything to pierce the bubble which they live in. To them, truth can be a dangerous thing and knowledge is to be feared. All I can say is that I don't get it.

Anyway, back to the book pile for me. I'm in the middle of a book called 'Over the Edge' by Greg Child. It's about the four American climbers that were kidnapped by rebel fighters in Kyrgystan in 2000.

What might have been...

The Packers picked up win number two last Sunday. They did it against one of the better teams in the league...and they did it with a fourth-string running back and a bunch of backups. Maybe that's the thing that sets a team apart. The desire to try and win even when there shouldn't be a chance of winning. Who says that sports has no lessons to teach?

Out here in Wisconsin, our new hero is Samkon Gado. I mean, seriously...is this kid too awesome, or what? He was born in Nigeria, played football at a small college (Liberty) and was let go by the Chiefs, where he was on the practice squad. The Packers sign him for their practice squad in the middle of October and less than two weeks later he taking handoffs from Brett Favre in an NFL game. And the thing is, he's actually pretty good. Top it all off with the fact that he's polite and he seems like a nice guy...and you've got a player that Packers' fans are starting to love.

Anyway, even with an abyssmal record, the Packers have been in pretty much every game, which makes fans of the Pack wonder just what might have been if there weren't so many injuries...

Something old, something new...

The Zombieslayer sort of got this topic rolling and I couldn't just let the chance pass to hand out some praise for two exceptional Spanish women. First, Margarita Carmen Cansino - who you perhaps know as Rita Hayworth.

Although she was born in New York and raised in Southern California, Rita remained a Spanish girl throughout life. Her father was Spanish and the family had strong roots back in the old country.

Rita, the queen of the pinups, was not only a lovely face, she could also hoof it with the best of them. Ginger Rogers might have been the partner, but for several Hollywood stars, Rita Hayworth was the better dancer. That's not just some studio spin either. Her father was perhaps the best known Spanish dancer in early Hollywood. He not only appeared in many movies after closing out his wildly successful show in New York and moving to Hollywood, he also became a well regarded choreographer and dance teacher.

Young Rita was brought up to dance and spent hours in the studio. She was actually 'discovered' by a studio bigwig when he saw her dance in a show with her father.

She did some small parts, did some more parts and then finally hit it big. And hit it big she did. Mostly known for playing steamy sirens, Hayworth was longed after by many men of the time. During the war, she was the armed forces' most popular pinup girl and she returned the compliment by performing in shows, working in the USO canteen and entertaining soldiers. She was also active in fund raising.

Like many actors and actresses of the time, Hayworth had a rocky romantic life. She had a handful of marriages and divorces and was, sadly, never able to find that careful balance of successful career and quiet lifestyle that she sought.

Two of her more famous marriages included a marriage to Orsen Welles and a marriage to Prince Aly Khan. Yup, she was a real princess, much like a certain starlet named Grace Kelly.

In later life, Rita developed Alzheimer's disease and was unable to work in movies. Her daughter, Princess Yasmin Agha Khan cared for her during her final years. She left behind a string of excellent movies and thousands of adoring fans. Not such a terrible legacy really.

*****

And just so you don't think I'm stuck in the past, I present Paz Vega. Vega is already well known in Spain and around the world, but is still a bit of a unknown here in the States.

You might remember her for her charming, yet solid performance in 'Spanglish.' Somehow, Vega manages to convey a range of emotion with very little spoken...or, at least, very little English spoken. Her portrayal of a single mom trying to do the best for her daughter is really very good.

If you want to see another side of this excellent - and beautiful - actress, you should rent 'Sex and Lucia' or Pedro Almodovar's 'Talk To Her.' Come to think of it, I haven't had the chance to watch 'Talk To Her' straight through, so that might be on the plate this weekend.

Here's the quick low down on lovely Paz Vega:

She was born Paz Campos Trigo on January 2, 1976, in Seville, the Spanish town famous for Carmen and singing barbers. The slender and athletic Paz first dreamed of being a sports star and later aspired to politics. But at age 15, all it took was a day at the theater to cement her ambitions; a performance of La Casa de Bernarda Alba set her sights on acting for good.

And, sadly for us guys, Paz Vega lives in Madrid with husband Orson Salazar. The streets run wet with my tears...