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Showing posts from April, 2010

Sleeping’s for Wimps… and Old Guys Apparently…

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I’ve always been a nocturnal living in the world of early risers. High School – Working nights at the movie theater and graveyard at the radio station started this 25 year habit as I still had to get up and go to school. I’d steal naps anywhere (class, work, the dinner table) to subsidize my standard two hours in an actual bed. If I found sleep before 4 in the morning on a school night, it may have been in the town paper. Twenties – Still pretty much indestructible. Sayings like “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” and “Sleepin’s for woosies.” often came out of my mouth. More graveyard and night work helped that along, but even when I had a regular morning gig I’d find myself awake at 4 lamenting how I had to get up early. When I married my love I found she was just as nocturnal and that did not help my sleeping habits. I’d say I averaged 3 ½ hours a night. Thirties – Now we have four kids instead of two. Now our house is chaos all the time. Our pace of life has increased, maybe even do

Things I did today…

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Got up late. I remember the alarm at 6:00. A blink later I opened my eyes again and my lovely daughter was pointing at my clock, which now said 7:04. That doesn’t happen to me very often. We made it just fine. I was just trying to make the morning more exciting. Drove an hour or so to Weed, California. There’s a brewery in Weed with the slogan, “Try Legal Weed”. There’s also a college… within walking distance of the brewery. Go figure. It’s good beer, by the way. Later drove to Yreka, California. Don’t confuse this with Eureka, California. Yreka is full of farmers, red necks and lovers of Palin. The Native American word yreka means north mountain. Eureka is full of farmers of another kind, customers of those farmers and Palin effigy burners. The word eureka means, “Dude, I found my bong.” (This isn't true by the way. Arcata - 5 miles north of Eureka - is more the 420 capital of the world. But Arcata and Yreka don't sound anything alike, so...) Had Mexican food in Y

Out of the Closet and into the Fire…

When I think about the reasons I didn’t use my real name on my blog/twitter/facebook they all seem vague now. I try to come up with new arguments to keep the charade going, but it all falls flat. So, without further ado, I’d like to introduce you all (though most of you know already) to Casey Freeland . Tada! Wasn’t as exciting as I thought it would be. Ah, well. That’s my real name. Don’t wear it out. My father named my closest (in age) siblings Kelly, Casey and Carey. When he got mad and tried to yell at us he’d scream, “K-Ka-K-Ke-Ke-Ka!!!” and his face would get all red. His fault. Should have named one of us Fred. I’m traveling to Crescent City tomorrow. Haven’t been there in a while. There are some customers who need my attention. Winter always keeps me away because the route I take goes through a really crappy mountain pass. It’s beautiful. But the truckers talk to each other on their CB’s to make sure they don’t cross paths on certain turns. Because there’s just not

Writer, Fighter, Carpenter Be

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I’m a writer. I write short stories, novels, a screenplay, blog posts of course and lots and lots of poems. The word “WRITER” defines me more than any other, I think. More than father, husband, lover, golfer, individualist, banker, boss or any number of other possible me’s. If I had to write 8 hours a day for the rest of my life, I’d be a happy man. If I had to make 80% of what I make now but I could make a living doing nothing but writing, I’d jump at the chance. If I lost the ability to write, to me it’d be akin to losing about half my soul. It means that much to me. When I was writing in radio, pumping out a few commercials, promos, show prep sheets or whatever each day, I stopped writing everything else. When I was immersed in the frantic underwriting of the banking boom from a few years back, I very nearly stopped writing everything else. And now this blog has taken the bulk of my writing productivity. I tried taking a break about six months ago, hoping it would jumpstart m

POTATO SALAD FOR 40?

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I think a lot of people have their own special recipe for potato salad. Mine is very simple but always requested for Easter. So I must be doing something right, right? I bought this bowl today. It’s the biggest bowl I could find, in fact the biggest bowl we’ve ever owned. The salad weighs 15 pounds and by volume is about 8 quarts (7.7 liters) or two gallons. It feeds a LOT of people. Here’s the recipe if you need to feed a hoard… Stuff: 24 medium potatoes (that’s 10 pounds or 4.5 kilos) 12 eggs 1 24-ounce (680 gram) jar of small sweet pickles chopped to small cubes 12 ounces (340 grams) of sliced black olives 1 jar of mayonnaise (4 cups or about 1 liter) Mustard Dill pickle juice Red wine vinegar Salt Pepper Seasoned Salt Garlic Salt In large cook pot (or two) cover potatoes in water and add a dash of salt. Bring to a boil and cook for about 20 minutes or until a fork easily slides into a potato. Drain and set aside. In another pot cover eggs in water and add a dash of salt. Bring

Joy and Pain – Life is the mix…

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There is a lot to be up and down about right now... JOY THE APPLE iPAD Apple iPad is coming out tomorrow. I won’t get mine for 3 weeks, but I love reading all the reviews and the news about the momentum of this machine. I’m starting to go a little nutty with anticipation. I’ve gone on iTunes and put several aps in my wish list, although I’m not expecting to purchase most of them it’s fun to create my own little mini-store. Included in my list is a car racing game, a painting program, Apple’s word processor and facebook and Tweetdeck apps. I really feel like the gift is also the curse. It's always half-and-half. Whatever brings you the most joy will also probably bring you the most pain. Always a price to pay. Alice Hoffman PAIN LOSS OF LIFE The passing of the mother of my 21-year old daughter was a huge blow to our family’s psychosis. Two weeks later the dimness of our days is just now starting to lift a bit. My girl will be grieving for a long time and my heart breaks every time