I report and comment on so much Buffalo-related negativity that I thought I should provide some balance and show you this -

Awesome. We need more of this. Little by little, brick by brick, this is how you rebuild a dying microeconomy. This is how you employ people. This is how you lure businesses. Operating in Buffalo isn't a privilege - without incentives people would be crazy to (re)locate here. That is, unless you have the wherewithal and resources to locate anywhere you like, flying the altruistic flag high and all. Renovating existing space makes this deal even sweeter.

Interesting, given the times -

I have a few books I've thought about buying lately and decided to put together an order on Amazon. I hate it when their free super saver shipping conspires against me. I want to buy two books and the order comes to about $23. Granted, both books are discounted around 40%. I feel like asking them to just charge me $2 more for the books so I don't have to spend $10 on shipping.

End of an era indeed. I can't think of many people that lived a fuller life than Sen. Ted Kennedy. Yes, there were some controversies, but on the other hand I can't think of many people that have lived through more tragedy than Sen. Ted Kennedy either. God Bless him - he is the only Kennedy brother to have died a natural death. He was the best looking Kennedy brother as well.

No pictures this time. If you want to see my pictures, go to Carmen Kitchen's Facebook page. I just found out that they "borrowed" two of my pictures from my previous blog entry here and used them for wall photos on FB.

I really don't mind, and in fact I think they should ask people to submit pictures of their food... or even of themselves with the food. But jeez, can't you guys at Carmen's at least say "thanks for promoting us on your blog, we'd love to use your pictures on FB to promote our restaurant?" C'mon y'all! Que tal unos pastelitos? Ustedes necessitan hook a gringo up! :) (solomente una chiste, see you soon).

You know the world is upside down when Obama makes me feel nostalgia for the Clintons. Yes, both of them - the Presidential philanderer and his better half. Actually, I have a lot more esteem for Hillary these days than I used to have. Maybe it is a result of her not being a politician anymore?

I've never really thought much of Bill, although over the years I've always enjoyed his shenanigans and the public's seemingly endless ability to forgive him. Really, let's think of this - Bill Clinton, Rhodes Scholar and brilliant man, arguing about what the meaning of "is" is? Surely we can agree that arguing about the meaning of "is" is preposterous regardless of context.

Which brings us to the present day. Man you've got to love Bill Clinton, riding in like a knight in shining armor, carrying the damsels in distress on his white horse Hollywood producer/donor funded airliner.

The public is being bamboozled into believing the imagery, that Bill Clinton was the driving force behind the release of the two extraordinarily foolhardy journalists who broke the law in the most despotic country on earth. The real truth? The Administration was much more involved than they want to let on - to suggest that this was a "private humanitarian mission" was a flat out lie. Washington Post, and pretty much every other outlet, made it clear that negotiations went along on the side, involving senior WH and State Dept. personnel, and others.

So again, I'm really, really loving how Bill Clinton is getting all of the credit and soaking up the love on the backs of other people. I miss Slick Willy in action. He's not even paying for the jet! One would think that Al "$100 million fraudulent dollars in mah con man pockets" Gore might have fronted that cost, as he is the founder of Current TV.

My real question is this - what's up with this wholly dishonest and easily debunked assertion that Bill Clinton was on a "private humanitarian mission" and what did we give up? The press has reported that our government, including WH level personnel, were directly involved with negotiations (the piece refers to this as "conversations" but you know better).

There isn't a rational person on earth that believes the North Korean government released these two ladies out of the goodness of their hearts, or for a mere photo op with The Artist Formerly Known As The First Black President. So, what did the North Koreans get in return? We may not know for years, although the underlying irony was not lost on me during Clinton's visit.

Remember?



I wonder how many North Koreans starved to death that week!

You be the judge. Vlad Putin barechesting it on horseback -

I've got nobody I can really talk to about the stress in my life. My father lost his job and is preoccupied in a cloud, my grandmother is 80 and I can't lay my worries at her feet, and my brother has his own problems. My grandpa is gone and for those of you who didn't know, we were raised by our father and grandparents after our mother gave up custody when we were 9 months old. In other words, I can't draw on my mom for advice either.

I'm trying to figure out how to cope with this - I'm usually the listener, the source of optimism and enthusiasm for the people around me. What happens if I don't have it in me anymore? Lately I've been feeling a little worn down and I've been at a loss... I've been begging God to provide me with some clarity and to remove this spectre over me.

Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins and Edwin "Buzz" Aldrin, Jr. American patriots and heroes to generations of dreamers around the world.



Last night the BBC replayed the audio from the famous event in "real" time, as if it were occurring live. It. Was. Awesome. If you read my previous entry regarding my dreams then you know I can have a wild imagination; I enjoyed it last night.

Did you know that the average age of the engineers working on the Apollo program was 26 years of age? I heard that on NPR, for what it's worth. Not to wax too rhetorically, but I think it's fair to say that the moon landing cemented our nation's greatness for all time in human history; it was an accomplishment that people will be reading about and discussing 2,000 years from now. The 21st Century was very consequential in human history and our nation was at the center of it all.

This was done at a time where really we had the absolute bare minimum technical expertise to achieve the goal. It was more a matter of will and national pride than anything else, but the national investment in the Apollo program has an amazing legacy - decades of technological innovations that have advanced our nation, if not the world.

This was done during a turbulent time in our history - within 10 years we saw two Kennedy brothers and Dr. King get assassinated, the Vietnam War was in full swing, etc. The moon landing reminded us of what we're made of - we got to see the very personification of it on TV, watching three men in white spacesuits look back at us from another heavenly body. We needed heroes and Apollo delivered.

Some of the most fascinating conversation I've ever heard was listening to the Apollo astronauts talk about their feelings and what went through their minds during the mission, in particular how they felt looking back at the earth from afar.





Apollo 11 Wiki -
10 Reasons Why The Apollo 11 Moon Landing Was Awesome -
NASA Apollo 11 Image Gallery -
SFGate Blog - Alan Black - The First Laugh on the Moon -

What is breaking my heart, though, is that these men feel NASA is currently a shambles. Read here -

(e:lilho) made me realize that my situation is the exact opposite; that for the longest time I had vivid dreams that I could remember precise details about. God, I miss it badly. I haven't had a vivid dream in a long time. I have a couple of theories; one involving the serious about of anxiety that I suppress on a regular basis, and the other being the at times abusive way I treat my body.

Dream No. 1

One dream I had involved me hanging out at an ex-girlfriend's family home. (This is a girl I had a recurring nightmare about for many years - she hurt me badly, I suppose, if I had constant dreams about her abandoning me. Different situations, same result - no matter what, at the end of the dream I lost and couldn't find her). This dream was a little different - she wasn't actually in the dream although I was in her parent's house. I was in her room when I hear the doorbell ring downstairs; I run down the stairs and all that is there is a receipt for flowers, next to the goldfish. The receipt lists the type of flower, I pick it up, then I wake. The first thing I did was scribble down the name of the flower - I did a Google search and it was non-existent.

Dream No. 2

Another dream I had involved tooling around what was in my mind somewhere in lower Manhattan, although in reality it could have been anywhere. I was with an anonymous group of friends, tooling around bars, checking out dingy record stores, taking a walking tour of a new urban landscape. I remember the traffic, the smell of the hot street, the people, the dangerous crosswalks, the skyscrapers, the weather (early afternoon gray skies, followed by bright sunshine), walking the sidewalks and taking in the environment. It was a truly beautiful day. I recall not the rush, but the flood of excitement and newness I felt during my dream - I wish with all my heart that I could repeat it and feel it again. It was like somebody poured an ice-cold pitcher of water over my restless soul, allowing me to take in a fire hose of zest for life, full bore, all while admiring the grandness, chaos, sadness and magic of a new city with good friends.

Dream No. 3

I'm with my brother and my dad in a strange city - it could have been a weird mix of Pittburgh and parts of New York. We're there on vacation, just to check things out and see a baseball game. We park our car in a downtown garage, which is attached to an absolutely enormous office building, complete with several walkways suspended over different parts of the building. I learn that I must work here - I have access to the building. Our car is stolen, which triggers me to run upstairs. It's late afternoon at this point, about dinnertime. I'm talking with police on the phone, who are downstairs speeding in their cars through several levels looking for the thieves. The office walls are mostly glass; I gaze outside the windows to try to relax, and enjoy the beautiful scenery and the strange aesthetic beauty of the modern downtown, the traffic, the people, the sun gradually retreating, office lights flickering on from across the street, all in combination. Then, I wake.

Dream No. 4

I'm with my ex-girlfirend I've mentioned earlier, although in the dream we're still together (sorry for the spoiler earlier, you already know how this ends). We're upstairs at a party - it's evening and we're in a somewhat old apartment building, with a huge entertainment area. The party is great, a real laid back and enjoyable atmosphere. Outside of the windows you see equally tall buildings that look like they were built during the Great Depression - evidently I'm in New York and in my head the party is set in a building somewhere in lower Manhattan. While the party is going on, criminals burst through the doors and begin shooting people. I rush over and proceed to put my fist through a guy's face, incapacitating him and injuring him severely. This evidently spooks the criminals, and they retreat. Not having any of this bull, I proceed to jump out of the window and fly about 20 storeys to the ground level to apprehend them. I shoot sparks out of the tips of my fingers, stunning them and allowing for the police to easily haul them in. In a flash I'm back upstairs and the mess has been cleaned up. I can't find my girlfriend, who seemed to be oddly missing during a lot of the party. Evidently, I was a guy with super powers who lost his girl during the evening.