Capristo Live

2006-11-04T19:05:00.000+01:00

To listen just press play:

Contact Capristo Live at
capristolive@googlemail.com

2006-09-02T21:20:00.014+02:00

Capristo Live – The Overview

This thing has grown and if I have my way, it’s going to keep growing, so to aid in the posts, here’s a brief but extensive rundown.

I. The Introduction

1. Early Years
2. Growing Up
3. Exchange
4. College
5. Co-ops
6. Germany – The Return 11-2005
7. Closing

II. What Is Capristo

III. This Frank Guy

1. 26.09.2007 Last of the Nice Guys
2. 22.08.2007 Falling in Love - Hard on the Knees
3. Frank the Mentor?
4. Frank's Personality
5. Frank's Type of Girl
6. 02.09.06 Scouting
7. 20.2.06 Reviewing the Situational Past
8. 14.2.06 Glimpse on Politics
9. Dec. 05 Material
10. –Who is this Frank Guy –

IV. Times I'll Never Forget

V. Nicknames

VI. Quotes

1. People I Know
2. Famous People
3. Movie Quotes
4. Random Stuff
5. My Quotes

VII. Something Serious

1. Education 24-06-2007
2. Love & Relationships, Relationships & Love 14-06-2007
3. Retiring the Breeze 27-02-2008
4. The Good Old Days 17-05-2007
5. It's Not All About the Benjamin's
6. There Go My Heroes 26-01-2007
7. My Look Back on the Attack 11-09-06
8. Following Through 19-08-06
9. Punks, Drunks, Shit Like That
10. Homesickness for the times gone by
11. Scouting – The Insight

VIII. The Poetic Side of Things

1. The Disease of Love
2. A Way to Start the Day, The Night Before
3. Love & Racing
4. Racing

IX. Some Comedy

a. The People Triangle
b. The F-Density Curve
c. If a Capristo were a Car...
d. Morning Wood
e. The F-Bomb
f. Prom Queen
g. Metals/Plastic, Men/Women
h. Breasts, Mans Greatest Obsession
i. Shopping Traffic

X. Frank's Movies

Movies with Frank in them:
1. Back Road Driving with the 325i
2. Autobahn Driving with the 325i
3. Wear Sunscreen - Henderson Scout Camp Reservation 2001
4. Home - Around Maryland, 2007
5. Frank Racing Down Under - Formula SAE/Student Australasia 2002 (Slideshow)

Frank's Favorite Movies

XI. Current Events

23.11.2008 Another Couple Months
27.09.2008 FSG 2008, Another Wedding & the Japan Trip
27.07.08 The Move, The Crash & The Trip Home
12.05.08 Changing of the Seasons
09.03.08 March Already
28.01.08 Return of the Capristo

XII. Capristo Live - The Best of Photography

XIII. Current Events Archive 2007

14.10.07 Wake Me Up When September Ends
19.08.07 Another Flashback
02.09.07 Another Day, Another Dollar
19.08.07 FSG - Formula Student Germany
29.07.07 Long Time No See Dr. C
23.06.07 The Long Story about a No Brainer Decision
13.05.07 Still Alive and Kicking
18.04.07 Holding On
31.03.07 The Detroit Trip & The Last Month
25.02.07 Frank's Future
04.02.07 February Already
10.01.07 From The Terminal at JFK

XIV. Current Events Archive 2006

25.12.06 The Christmas Edition
10.12.06 Mr. 247
26.11.06 Keeping Busy As Usual
03.11.06 Touring Bavaria with Pam
15.10.06 Edel Praktikant - The Noble Co-op
03.10.06 Wake Me Up When September Ends
17.09.06 A Doggy Dog World
02.09.06 3 Weeks of Madness and Fun
13.08.06 Blues Night in Schweifurt, Trying to get Frank a Woman
07.08.06 A Little Sad
05.08.06 Live from Southern France, The Rents Visit Till Then
22.07.06 More Kiliani, The Großglockner Experience, Saying Good-Byes
08.07.06 Kiliani and a Run Down on Life at the Moment
01.07.06 Indiana Capristo – The Mexico Expidition
24.06.06 More WC, Music Festival, Work
10.06.06 The Start of World Cup, Weindorf, Road Trip to Zürich
21.05.06 The Bentley Visit
07.05.06 Basic Stuff
29.04.06 Hockenheim Vintage Weekend, Shuttle Party, Frank the Mack
19.04.06 Bowling, Something Serious added
24.03.06 Soccer, Shot Down, Work
10.03.06 Days of Insanity, Macking, Skiing & Bros Reunited
22.02.06 Olympics, Random Thoughts Added
14.02.06 V-Day Babble
05.02.06 Recalling New Years

XV. Current Events Archive 2005

30.12.05 A Look Back on 05
27.12.05 A Scrooged Christmas
15.12.05 Chinese, Arm Wrestling and more German
06.12.05 Chillin with Basti
26.11.05 Thanksgiving 05
22.11.05 Stauner Eck
21.11.05 Dad Sold the Stratus “Merlot” and “Pepe”
19.11.05 Going Low Key
15.11.05 Officially Releasing the Website
05.11.05 Recalling Honky Tonk

Introduction:

2005-11-10T16:32:00.000+01:00

I was born in Oneonta, NY, USA and grew up in the small town of Maryland in NY's central leather stocking region. I am the oldest of three, and have a brother Anthony and sister Bethann. Our parents are all you could ask for and more. That's us at the kid sister's graduation. She's the smartest one, top in her class, but I think Tony and I raised more hell over the years.

The Early Years:
I have known my best friend Orrin since our diaper days. We have shared many adventures over the years.

I grew up playing in our 5.75 acre /2.3 hectare back yard and as I got older, the surrounding area. The hills were great for sledding and racing pedal cars down, but my first means of going faster were cross country skis. We used to jump on the ice in the creek in the winter, build dams in the summer, Crayfish hunting in the larger stream near by.

Growing Up:
I spent all of my K-12 years at Schenevus Central School. I played trumpet in the band, played soccer and baseball in middle school and kept playing baseball till I graduated. In those years, I was also active in Scouting. Some think you're crazy, to go out in the middle of winter, pitch a tent and not have anywhere to go inside. I find it one of the most rewarding things to do, to leave the TV, to go out in the fresh air, play cards and eat around a campfire. I spent 4 amazing summers working as an instructor in that time period and 2 more later on. I met a lot of good people. Joe, my brother and I would spend the second half of our high school days going to school dances, playing pool, going bowling and making trips to Crossgates Mall in Albany. Some of my crowning achievements were graduating Regents with Honors and receiving my Eagle Scout Award.

Exchange:
While most people were getting ready to go off to college, I was getting ready to risk it all and go into the unknown. I was going to be an exchange student in Augsburg, Germany. Of all the risks I've ever taken, this one has paid off the most. Mind you, I didn't speak a word of German before I left. I learned it the best way possible, by doing it. I met Melanie N. in my first week and we started trading letters after that. We became great friends and I'm happy to say she still helps me to improve my German.

My first host family was Petraks. It was interesting at first, cause Rainer's English was on par with my German - nonexistent. I owe it to him that I got the chance to kayak in the canal used for the 72 olympics, which was only half a mile down the road. We had a good understanding on things. I had the chance to revisit my childhood obsession of steam trains when we went to Nordlingen on a steam train. The model train layout he has in the attic is one of the most impressive things I've ever seen. We also had a good time playing trumpet together. I played a lot of hands of spades with Martin, Miriam and Renata when we had dinner at her place. My host sister Melanie was great. Having just come back from Argentina, she understood what I was going through. We were the same age and it was fun to hang out with her. She was a big help when it came to reading Melanie's letters and trading them back and forth would have been a lot harder without her, as I was in a different school than them, reading even harder. I would go to her with manuscripts of translation with huge blank spots in the beginning. We had a great Christmas together.

It's standard practice to switch host families as a Rotary Exchange Student. After New Years, it was time for my first change. I went to Königsbrunn to live with Nietsches. By this point in time my German was getting fluent and it was easier to get to know Rita, Julia, Günter and Christopher. I learned the most schwäbisch German I ever have from Günter. Rita always made sure I had everything I needed. Julia, Christopher and I would watch Stefan Rabb and laugh till no end. Julia was great and gave me all the advice on girls that you can't get from your bros at a time when I needed it the most. We had a lot of fun going out to the movies with the Königsbrunn crew. We went skiing for a total of 10 days in the Austrian Alps. I have never skied in so much powder in my life. The nights up in the hut were filled with games, and we were always the first out on the slopes. They were great in hosting my family when they came to visit, to which we are forever grateful (not the right word, but my English is getting poorer).

When May rolled around, it was time for Koren and I to swap families and I went to live with Prillers. Sebastian is the forth generation owner of the family brewery, the largest in the city, with the younger Sebastian (Basti) getting ready to make it five. Silvia was always very helpful and it was interesting to discuss political/social issues with her and Sebastian. Dominikus(Mini) and Hanna made sure that my social life didn't suffer. We would watch the Simpsons, sometimes with a 20 piece nugget and BBQ sauce in hand. It was a gorgeous summer and we frequented the beer gardens. Silvia, Hanna and I went to the Worlds Fair in Hannover. It was a summer that goes like most, too fast, but the whole year was like that.

Not to be forgotten, is Holbein Gymnasium, where I went to school. Frau Brenner took great care of all of us exchange students. We had a lot of good meetings up stairs in the alt Bau. I also learned a lot of (and all of my) British English in her 11F class. Participating in Frau Seger's college level English was interesting and entertaining. We had a lot of good class discussions. I could still do some math and physics, no German required. Dr. Lorbeer was also a good mentor. I spent a good portion of time playing in the Holbein Big Band. Herr Kellerman did a great job with us. The concerts, the practice week, the trip to England, and even the weekly practices were awesome.

In a year I experienced what it meant to be German. Most people think Autobahn, Oktoberfest and beer when they think of Germany, but that's like saying the USA is shopping malls, the Statue of Liberty and White House. I had three great host families who helped me make my year one of the most memorable experiences of my life. I became fluent in German and experienced a culture I've fallen in love with. I could go on and on, and to some of you I have. My experience as an exchange student is a book in its own right and the people are the heart of it.

College:
After my year, I started college at RIT, Rochester Institute of Technology in western New York studying mechanical engineering. G7, our dorm, was a happening place. John and I built my first computer, we used to hang out with Brandon, Marci and the rest of the crew. I picked up a part time jobs patrolling the dorms to make sure things were cool and took notes for deaf students taking German. They liked my thoroughness, and I was requested often for the following quarter. I participated in the Leadership program, LEAD my first two years and spent a year as a resident advisor my second year. In the early days, it was a struggle to find the right balance, to see where I wanted my college experience to take me. The time management lessons learned in my fist two years helped make my remaining three years an even greater success. Learning to balance girlfriend, school, work, formula and fun time comes hard when there just aren't enough hours in the day. I have to agree, "The quality of a university is measured more by the kind of student it turns out than the kind it takes in." ~Robert J. Kibbee I'd like to think I'm proof of that, but that I also had something to do with it.

Once in a while Jeremy and I would get together with people and go backpacking in the mountains between south western and northern PA. There's nothing more refreshing than throwing a 40 lb (20kg) pack on and walking through the wilderness for a good 18 mi. (27km). It also became a standard ritual to make the annual drive out to Indianapolis to visit fellow exchange student Scott. Scott went to Purdue and became Pilot and we had a lot of fun flying to Chicago and going to the races.

Far and above all my other activities, I joined the RIT Formula SAE race car team. My 4 active years on the team are almost as indescribable as my exchange. It's hard to explain what it means to be part of a group that designs, builds and races a car, let alone one that successfully competes internationally. I was lucky enough to participate as a group leader and driver in 4 events including two competitions is Australia. While I would have liked to have sampled all the things RIT had to offer, I learned in high school that to be a part of something and make a difference, you have to focus and devote yourself to a couple things and not everything. Some work and party or have hobbies. I devoted four years to formula. I will always miss not having the fifth year, but I had the means to support myself via a good part time job at B&L and decided it was time for me to step up to the plate and do that.

RIT has a good program and professors such as Kozak and Scarborough made learning what it is suppose to be. I might have left RIT with a BS in Mech E, but what I really left with is a great group of friends. I'll always remember the good times with Erin. I am as strong as I am today because of her. Erika taught me to have faith in myself, and see the things others see in me, and the things they don't. I spent a lot of good times with Pam and Aaron, and there aren't too many people who will go to the ER with you. Aaron & Erika made it their mission to remind me that there was life outside of formula, and it would be good for me to enjoy it once in a while. If ever there was a booming voice ringing down the quarter mile that was ready to burst our giggling, it was Liz and it was sure to be an interesting night if she was along.

Co-Ops:
I also had the privilege of working with several great groups of people through my co-ops. While working at Amphenol Aerospace, Bausch & Lomb and Honda R&D, not only did I learn how to be a better engineer, I learned how to be a professional. Each experience gave me some great memories.

Amphenol Aerospace - Sidney, NY I started work the day after returning from racing in Austrailia for the first time. It was a depressing morning, I had been pulled over for doing 92 in a 65 (that's 150 in a 110 for you km/h people) the night before. Oh well, you'll have that. I was working in the test lab, rigging up stuff, testing material samples, analyzing field failures. I learned how to solder. The best memories are drinking coffee while eating my morning bagel and talking to John L and the daily lunchtime pitch games. The table talk was hilarious. I can still hear Phil saying "without knowing." There was Kevin "the kid," Biviano, Barbie girl and the girls (all 30+ mind you) in the room where the plasma chamber was. It was an interesting time, what with me driving out to Rochester every weekend to work on the race car and to try and chase a girl. If there was ever a winter where I proved my driving, that was it.

NCR^3 - RIT Rochester, NY I think if it hadn't been for Bill M. out in the lab, I woulda shot myself. Everyone should have a job they don't like, it teaches you what to watch out for. Nothing wrong with people, just not my cup of tea.

Bausch & Lomb RD&E - Rochester, NY This time around, I decided not to start the day after returning from Australia. I was still jet lagged, but I can remember being in a conference with Travis - TREVOR, Dave B, Tom & Jerry. I was to work on wet vision, whatever that meant. After learning about plumbing from Ray and Ryan, I would soon find out.

In the early days, we didn't know what to expect, no one had ever tried this before. So I spent some time working with Kim, imaged lenses and wrote my first report. Things were always hopping, there was always something new. Process development, software development, hardware improvement, you'd never think it took that much to make something so small. That machine became my baby. I saw concepts of the line and knew the guys from PMD. My understanding of the Irish accent would improve with every weekly conference. I would go to bed at night counting lenses rather than sheep. At a time in my life when people were selling me out left and right, the team, my family at B&L was helping me see and realize my potential.

They kept me on over the summer as I brought Placé and Much up to speed. I don't remember how many cans of coffee I went through that summer, but it would be my finest ever. Wednesday nights were all nighters, but progress had to be made and I had to stay in school. Sleep wasn't a priority. At the end of the summer, I left to check out the automotive world at Honda.

After Honda, I came back for more, and more lunches. Placé and I would tag team the vision system with Much Baaaahhhhh-ing all the way. We were working on our senior design project. Double your pleasure, double your fun, we were going full bore. It would be another TLA (three letter acronym) with LBI. After graduating, and with the arrival of the line, the all out onslaught began. We were processing lenses faster than we could process data, it was great. It was also great to see the concepts, how they had changed, changed again and finally been built into one awesome lens making machine. We had to bring John G JR on just so we could focus on vision. I've seen robots do things I never knew they could and met the CEO. I left knowing the meaning of requirements and acceptance criteria.

The end was bitter sweet. I had a family there, I was the grandfather of wet vision. I was going to have to stop riding the lunch train. It was great to play my first game of golf at the beginning of September with Joe, Tom, Travis and the rest of us hooligans who were PAQ. The going away party the next Friday ranks up there next to golf as some of the best times I've had. I was never so sad for a night to end as I was riding back in Bill's boat after partying for 12 hours straight. It was so good, I had to stop in one last time afterwards, just to see everyone one more time, and get one more free lunch(thanks guys). Thank you Tom, Bill, Much and Placé, you guys were the best.

Honda R&D - Marysville, Ohio Up until the point I moved down to the small city outside of Columbus, all I knew is that it took forever to drive through Ohio. Honda was unlike anything I've ever seen. We had white uniforms with our names on them, but they washed them for you. I would have been willing to wear a uniform all through college for free laundry. There were 5 of us co-oping in the group. We all lived in the near by housing complex, we all suffered from the same illness, we were all a bunch of crazy mo-fo's. In no time at all, we had a full program. Mondays and Thursdays were Soccer with our group in the Honda league. Tuesdays we went to Buffalo Wild Wings with all the other co-ops social enough to go out for wings and beer. Wednesdays we went climbing and the weekends were always filled with something crazy. We played drunken Gran Turismo 3 with spec racer mini (Cooper, the original), autocrossed, or went to one of the many parties being hosted by a fellow associate. With all the activity, we were able to start our own weekly newsletter. We were the co-op crew and we had almost as much fun at work as we did outside of it. If I could remember all the co-op jokes. But I remember k-factor, kgf, and DAQ. I'll never forget going out to Stone Hause with Joan and Krista, Chris's 21st, the 555 TT, pimping out the Breeze with Paul, Riding around in the TL with Chris, setting up equipment with Howard, Jeremiah & John (not to mention getting busted on), and playing soccer with Fink, Hutter, Wyatt Earp, Andy "A-Train" & Ryan. I learned that you can drive a shuttle car like a shuttle, but don't need to go through NASA training to do it. Paul's halloween party was a religious experience thanks to Pete. Luckily I wasn't the one who should have been going to confession the next day. I'll never be able to look at another nurse the same again. I'll never forget hearing Nick screaming "That's right!" from his perch in the indoor hall. My P&%§$§ will always hurt, but I will never forget to drive 90 and swerve a lot. My going away party at the Stone House was amazing. I don't remember how many beers everyone bought me, but I do remember the meatball sub. There was Honda Prom last Dec. and I had the pleasure to catch up with some of the gang last March. If I'm ever in town in the fall, I'll be sure to bring my cleats and shin guards. It was the busiest three months of my life and I was happy to hear that I was more than what Brain and Richard thought I'd be.

Germany - The Return:
Sometimes you just can't get enough. People say they'd always see a glow in my eye every time I'd talk about my exchange. I couldn't stay away. I had to see what it was like to be here again, and on my own. I had to see if I could run across the same dream twice. I heard the best of the best were here, so I thought I’d come check it out.

Since the end of October 2005, I've been in Würzburg. I'm working for Siemens VDO, the automotive subsidiary of Siemens. I started off as an applications engineer. By May 2006, I was fairly well worked in and could pick up stuff and run with it. I kept improving over the summer and at the start of September 2006, I was handed my first project. I was unofficially given the PM. I joined the few, the brave, the project managers. By the end of the month, things had changed and I was to take over 2 additional projects. Things went from two suppliers and one customer then multiplied in both directions. Everything was tight, but it worked out in the end.

2006 was an amazing year. I spent a lot of time hanging with Jochen, Manual and the rock star crew. I’ve enjoyed their concerts and enjoyed the nightlife with them. There have been a lot of activities outside of work with my colleagues, where it has been nice to enjoy not talking about work. Everything from breakfast with the girls to full out get-togethers. I have enormous respect and admiration for everyone in our group. With the amount of time I spend with them, they are in many ways, my family away from my family. The occasional road trip with Brian and Jessica has always been an adventure. There has been the internat (high school) dorm crew and that has rounded things out. The times playing soccer, grilling down on the Main and late night chats with Jonnas, Marcel, Fanzi, Lili and Verena.

Inside of a year, I had made it to the point where people inside our project management and apps team wanted me to get hired in. I was loving the work, loved the team and couldn’t complain too much about life. I was completely willing, but it would be a tough up hill battle. It has been an honor to work with Oli, Gitte, Erkan, Roland, Jessica, Carina, Karen, Daniel, Rainer and Peter. That’s our immediate team. Their approval has meant a lot to me. As ’06 was drawing to a close, I was also overcome with how many other people were so concerned and hoped I’d stay.

You might have well taken the water tower from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and painted “Save Frank,” instead. It felt like that. Motor R&D, logistics, quality, purchasing, the sample shop, people out on the floor, customers and maybe even a supplier, or two, they were all crossing their fingers for me.

Before the year closed out, we hit our targets. I had had a bit of help. I have a damn good team. The last 3 months had been quite a killer, but we came out alright and I went home for the first time in 1 year, 2 months, and 21 days. Some would argue I had more than earned it. I had done more than anyone ever expected from me, especially at the start. I had gone above and beyond the duty of a co-op, but maybe that’s because I never saw myself as one. I only earned the co-op wage.

Coming back was a double edged sword. It had been wonderful being home, but, like always, I had something here to do. I wasn't done yet. At the start of ‘007, things looked like not even Bond himself would be able to save my ass. But who needs Bond, maybe all I needed was Dirty Harry, but I suppose a lot of people would say the same thing, “You earned it.” Well, I’m not going to discuss it. If you know me, you know I try to keep it on the down low, modest and let things speak for themselves.

There might be a method to my madness. It looks like I’m going to extend my time here for another 2.5 years, as long as they give me the German equivalent to a green card. So there it is, I kept it low key and did just what I set out to do. I got everything except the girl, but you'll have that at times.

In Closing:
It's closing time. Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end. I haven't forgotten anyone or anything, there are some memories that are just for me.

To the ladies out there who inspired me to write, draw, speed, drink, and above all else, be the best that is me, I'd love to go into the details, but that wouldn't be right now would it. You know who you are.

I look forward to any feedback you might have for me. Feel free to sign the guestbook and leave me some lovin. There is now an email address as well.

I still haven’t really spell checked anything. Why would I do that.... hehehe
"It's a damn poor mind that can think of only one way to spell a word." Andrew Jackson
My English continues to deteriorate, but I hope it’s still entertaining. It's still good enough to educate those around me on terms like SNAFU.

This post has been rated PG-13, but don't be surprised if you exceed R should you feel the need to snoop around. Children be warned, you might learn something.

Your Editor,
Frank Capristo III

capristolive@googlemail.com

What is Capristo

2005-11-07T15:54:00.000+01:00

About the title - Unless you can imagine a robot with a russian accent, the title isn't funny, but the boys at B&L know.

A Capristo is not a timid man, he is a passion expert. If it has wheels he will drive it, if it's on fire he will put it out. If he's lucky, people will remember him for working is heart out and pouring it into everything he does. Day, night, rain, shine, sleep or not, a Capristo is a guy who will go anywhere and do anything for the people in his life.

His endurance and dedication is second to none. If you need to go to Connecticut and back in a night to see about a girl, he is your man. The watermelon runs are as legendary as the land speed record between Utica and scout camp on Crumhorn Mnt . In the midst of the fire, he will take the heat and get the job done. He will do the right thing, even if it is the unpopular thing. He is a man of honor.

Make no mistake about it, but he is also a laid back man. When the heat is off, the game face turns into the face of games. The humor is sure to be filled with double meanings, sexual innuendos and movie lines. He enjoys going out for a drink or two, or anything else in the name of fun. Even just hanging out is above a dull roar. He will push the limit of comedy just to get that look. He is a man's man and a ladies man.

A Capristo is a dreamer, creator and craftsman. He is good with his hands and has the right touch. Not only can he see it, but he has the skills to do it big, do it right and do it with style. There is no half Capristo, he is all or nothing. On warm clear nights, you will find him out in a field, or along a shore looking up on the stars.

A Capristo is a lover and a romantic. For those who have dared to get this close to one, they will remember it for the rest of their lives. It is the Capristo family secret which has been passed on from father to son for generations (well, at least one) and been verified by a call to the old man on at least one occasion(boy was he surprised).

Above all else, a Capristo is a family man. He will work as many jobs as it takes to provide. He will drive all day to spend 30 minutes in the hospital. He never forgets to visit those whose time has passed and will clear the snow from the stone with his bare hands in the middle of the night.

And that is a Capristo.

Who is this Frank Guy - Random Thoughts

2005-11-06T20:54:00.002+01:00

My Random Thoughts

26.09.2007 Last of the Nice Guys

Forwarded:

To every guy that's said, "You're beautiful."
To every guy that was never too busy to drive across town
(or across the state) to see her.

To every guy that gives flowers and a card when she is sick.
To every guy who has given her flowers just because.

To every guy that said he would die for her.
To every guy that really would.
To every guy that did what she wanted to do.

To every guy that cried in front of her.
To every guy that she cried in front of.
To every guy that holds hands with her.
To every guy that kisses her with meaning.

To every guy that hugs her when she's sad.
To every guy that hugs her for no reason at all.
To every guy who would give their jacket up for her.
To every guy that calls to make sure she got home safe.

To every guy that would sit and wait for her for hours
just to see her for ten minutes
To every guy that would give his seat up.
To every guy that just wants to cuddle.
To every guy that reassured her that she was beautiful
no matter what.

To every guy who told his secrets to her.
To every guy that tried to show how much he cared
through every word and every breath.
To every guy that thought maybe this could be the one.

To every guy that believed in her dreams.
To every guy that would have done anything
so she could achieve them.
To every guy that never laughed at her
when she told him her dreams.

To every guy that walked her to her car.
To every guy that gave his heart.
To every guy who prays that she is happy
even if you are not with her.

...This one bulletin is for you...

Not many girls appreciate nice guys anymore...
And because of this, there are not many left out there...
If you are a nice guy repost this with "We're a Dying Breed "
If you are a girl that thinks every guy should treat a girl this way
repost this with: "To Every Guy...

FC: I couldn't agree with the closing more. Often times growing up, I adapted the line from Days of Thunder, "they need a brand name, an athlete or a player." Meanwhile all I could do was beg for a chance, just one chance to show someone I thought was special what I could, what I would do for them. I became a man of poetry, and wrote for no one that was mine, but she who would someday be the one. Of course I was inspired and likewise rejected by some, all but a few over the years, not that there were many.

By the time I got through the first semester of college, I was about ready to write a book entitled "Just a Friend," and have often enough felt that way since. I coined the phrase "Nice guys finish last, but we do finish, we always finish. - And plus, the women like it better that way."

And at times I find myself feeling those same old feelings. The hopeless romantic has not died, but experience has taught him all too well about the rules of love. Everyone should love and loose, and know what it's truly like. The nice guys are there, and seek to have a relationship. It's often they who are the shoulders that get cried on when the lady gets her heart broken by one of the others. The story repeats itself over and over. I've seen it many a time. And yet it changes nothing. For the ones where it is just a game, who could so easily have the true rewards if they weren't so blind to it, well it just doesn't seem fair. The nice guys are there, and could do it all, but we're never the right "type."

Life is not fair. More and more, practicality replaces principle. You adapt to where the rewards and gains are. As said in Hitch, you can make it so you never have to feel that way again. But for the true nice guys out there, straight to the core, and burnt to the core but not broken, we are the last of a dying breed.

22.08.2007 Falling in Love - Hard on the Knees

And there it is, a certain smile, a certain sparkle. I haven’t known it in so long I’m not sure if I’m dreaming or not. My face starts to ache from smiling back and I know I’m awake. We haven’t know each other for very long, but here we are, and my heart already sways. Is it the look in your eyes doing that to me, or the way your bangs come off to the side?

Once again I feel myself being reduced down to feeling like I know nothing about the world. I don’t know if you feel the same way or not, but can’t help hoping that you’ll fall for me so I can hold you in my arms and kiss you deep.

Is that too much too fast? I don’t know the rules any more. You redefined them. All I know is how nice it would be to lay out on a blanket in the park with you, sit and have a cappuccino at a café with you, dance the night away and fall asleep in your arms. And that’s all I know.

Frank the Mentor?

“"You never know when you might have the chance to enjoy it again...Too many hobbies, too little time. That’s life....And life, we each live our own. The wild live it by their own divine will, the weak follow the world around them, and the strong mix both to provide unique experiences in their lives, but with adequate self balance, criticism and check. Of course that is my view, and as such I try to live by my own words.” -Frank Capristo... my good friend and mentor..." Josh G.

No, I’m not sure I would have believed it either without reading it for my own eyes. It’s always an honor when something like that turns up. I suppose my first thought was, did I write that? And I checked that current events and thought, “Oh yeah, I guess I did.” And then I thought, someone actually reads this crap. I like to philosophize about life, thoughts, ideas, feelings. I do it whenever I have enough time to let my mind wander for a little while, and I’m not daydreaming.

It doesn’t happen often enough. When you’re a kid, if you didn’t get smacked for dropping the f-bomb, you probably received a hefty time out. Fuck, if I had that luxury today, I’d be one well rested daydreaming fool. Writing always helps me to relieve the internal stress. It’s similar to talking to a good friend, in that you get to vent, which is sometimes all you need. Talking to a good friend is always good, human interaction. Still, writing is fun all by itself. The fact that someone else reads it and takes it to heart is something I always find amazing. The power of a voice.

So me, a mentor? Get outta town. I mean I remember a few of us laying out under the stars by the flag pole at camp, chatting about life, liberty and the pursuit of women. It just so happened, that my last summer up there started right after I had gotten cheated on and dumped. It was a very philosophical time for me. Of course I told everyone that I wasn’t too affected. I was trying to convince myself of that, that it didn’t matter, and that I would find someone better. The whole time, I was only missing what I had had, what someone else now had, and it was eating me up the whole summer.

Live and learn. I asked a lot of questions that summer, and explained quite a few thoughts, while trying to mask the feelings. Still, I’m too much of a dynamic person, and the people who know me can always see through it, and know to take that itself as a sign of how I’m doing. All I ever explain is my rational, something anyone else could come up with. I try to look at all points and place myself in all the shoes. Hardly anything in the world is single sided, and most of it is 3D. One has to try and think that way as well.

I guess neither myself, nor most others would put it past me. I spent six summers teaching outdoor skills to rambunctious preadolescent kids who were off their Ritalin for the summer. If you can do that, you can do a lot of things. But teaching is not mentoring, there is a difference. Mentoring requires letting someone lead themselves, and just presenting information on the table. They get to choose what to take. Mentoring often lead to helping people to look inside themselves. They end up looking deep within, to find and listen to their true voice, the voice where the heart, the mind and the soul are one, the same and in harmony. It’s a hard place to come to, and I don’t think most people ever really know for sure, even after they’ve found it.

Still, we each have to trust in it, knowing that if things don’t go the way they should have, when plans and expectations fall through, that one can always return to the true people and places that one has, the things that are timeless. They are the family and friends, where the time in between seeing them never changes the relationship. It could have been yesterday that you saw them last, rather than 4 months ago. They are the places that may change over time, but never fail to loose their feeling. One need not to have the largest family, 1000 friends, or have been to every corner of the globe. Quantity does not surpass quality and the only race we run is against ourselves. Everything else is trivial. For everything else, there’s Mastercard, casinos, alcohol and prostitutes.

In life, it is seldom that your first ever kiss or date becomes your mate. This is usually the exception to the rule, and life’s path is often the same. More often is the case, that we live a series of relationships. Sometimes we end them, sometimes someone else ends them. Sometimes you are in one and tempted to be in another. Life is a duel between choices.

There is always a rock and a hard place. And for some, when tempted, they will make the jump. It’s usually the gutsy move and not so often the case. It goes against human nature to be reckless, and more often than not, is done only as an excuse to be reckless. The only certainty is that nothing is for certain. Others will stay with what they have, with what they know. And some will stay with the one they have, but always dream back on the chance they gave up, and how it could have been, maybe even how it should have been.

That’s life, and most times, it isn’t till afterwards, after the dust has settled, after the heart rate and blood pressure have gone down, that we see with clarity. Call it Monday morning quarterbacking, sure. In the heat of the moment, you only have split seconds to think and react. But when it comes to the course of our lives, you can go to a friend, or to one of those places for a few hours. You can relax, put it all out of your mind for a little while and then come back to it. Things often look different after that. A little breather after going crazy is good for the soul.

Coming to terms with what you will have and what you will have to give up is always a challenge. But as I always try to remember, when worst comes to worst, there will always be those people and those places, and they seldom go away, they are always there. And even when the distance separates them from you, you can close your eyes and go there, deep within your heart, where you always carry them.

Frank’s Personality

No one ever asks me if I know who Tyler Durden is. Sometimes though, I kinda wonder who I am. The world is a funny place. You look at yourself every morning in the mirror, you have your thoughts, your reasons, your character. Still, does it come off the way you want it to? I was screwing around last Friday night and ran across a little personality test. I’d like to say it’s pretty accurate. I should hope so. I answered the questions honest, but maybe a bit modest. I present them now to you.

Frank’s Agreeableness

- Does he take care of others, or take care of his own selfish ass?

This section describes Frank’s interactions with other people. The ways we communicate our feelings, beliefs and ideas to others are influenced by our cultural backgrounds, the way we were raised, and sometimes, which side of the bed we got up on that morning. Some of us are very mindful of others, making decisions we hope will be in the best interests of others even if it means sometimes neglecting our own interests. Others believe each person should be responsible for themselves, taking deep pride in their own character and independence with a firm belief that others are best served by doing the same. The following describes how Frank engages with others; illustrating the dimension of his personality that determines his independence and his desire to reach out and touch others in meaningful ways.

Frank is best described as usually taking care of himself.

Words that describe Frank:

Perceptive
Realistic
Demanding

Down-to-Earth
Hardnosed
Judgmental

Pragmatic
Skeptical

How he interacts with others:

He is clearly a compassionate person (He’s a Capristo. Read: Passion Expert). He believes that one should do unto others as they would have others do unto them, and he knows that friends help their friends. But with him, compassion is just one side of the coin; the other being a side that he also expects others to hold up their end of the bargain. So he helps others, but it is with the expectation that others don't take advantage of him or try to put one over. In short, he expects others to treat him as he treats them.

And for those people who do ask for help when they should have taken responsibility for themselves? This is the time when his more hard-edged side comes out. He is skeptical of people when they expect others to bail them out of trouble. If they got themselves into the bind, they should work their way out of the trouble. If it's an emergency, or if it's a friend who has been there for him when he has had hard times, he is there in a jiffy. But he is a discerning person and to him there is a big difference between an emergency and a self-inflicted wound. He just looks at the facts: how the situation developed, how serious is the situation, and how they can or cannot get through things on their own. The history he has with the person and with similar situations will inform him whether he should get involved or not.

He also has some limits when it comes to being with people. Sure some people need to be with others all the time, and seem to get recharged by helping out most anyone else. But that's not exactly him. He knows that he does best if he spends a fair amount of time on his own. Not that he’s a loner, just that time spent by himself is not wasted at all. He’s come to understand that if you don't take good care of yourself, eventually you won’t be any good to anyone, including himself and others.

So his compassion is tempered by realism. His sympathy for people in trouble is balanced by a critical evaluation of how dumb they are in the first place. Learning by doing. He’s been there himself and might be again. And he’s learned to take good care of himself, so he had something to give to hid friends or others truly in need.

Typical Negative Reactions People Have to the Frankster:

Some people may see his practical style as lacking compassion. When his compassion is tempered, as it is at times by his discerning questions and careful consideration, it may seem to some like he has too much head and too little heart. And when he uses time and energy to take care of himself, there will inevitably be some who see this as selfish and uncaring. But his approach is neither heady nor selfish. It is Frank. And since it doesn’t appear to be causing him consistent problems in important relationships, there is really no reason to change. His distinctive manner of having clear expectations for the relationships in which he’s in, will exert his energy and show his true core.

The Good Stuff:

The truth is that most people respect someone who knows themselves and what they want. So even if some people don't get exactly what they want from him, they will often leave with a deeper sense of respect for this guy. His frank and honest approach may help someone to help themselves when they didn't think this was possible. They wind up better off: they're out of trouble, they did it on their own, and they have him to thank. And Frank was true to himself. A good chap indeed.

Frank’s Openness

Curious or Contented?

(Definitely straight by the way.)

What you’re going to learn is how firmly committed he is to the ideas and beliefs that govern his thinking and guide his behavior. Some people trust their current ideas and beliefs the way a climber trusts the mountain; whichever way they move, whether the climb is on a familiar trail or over new ground, there is something solid beneath them, something they count on.

For others, new ideas, new solutions to old problems, new beliefs that replace tired convictions are like welcome wind in their sails. They can hardly wait to tack in a new direction and ride a new idea through uncharted waters. If it's new, it's interesting, and they're ready to explore.

The following paragraphs describe Frank’s responses to new ways of thinking and believing. How do he handle new information? Is he more like the climber on a familiar mountain or a sailor with a tiller in hand and a fresh breeze to propel him (maybe it’s the rum doing all the propelling, they did say sailor)? How he integrates and processes new information about the world and about others is a core aspect of everyone’s personality.

Frank is sometimes curious, sometimes content.

(Curious {not the right word, but bear with it} to have sex, content to wait for women who are mentally sane and the right ones.)

More words to describe Frank:

Accepting
Flexible
Educated

Self-aware
Middle-of-the-road
Proper

Distinctive
Indecisive
Adaptable

How does this dude approach new information and experiences?

Like someone who can sleep comfortably on either side of the bed (who says he sleeps?), he is equally at home with ideas and beliefs that he has held for a long time, and with new ways of thinking and believing that grow out of his intellectual curiosity.

His sense of who he is, and what his place is in the world around him, rests on values and principles that make up the solid ground he walks on. He’s tested them. They work for him. And most of the time, he is content to trust them, that is, until some provocative new idea slips in from a conversation, book or some flight of his active imagination. "Hmmmm. What's this. Never thought of it before." And off he goes, exploring.

Since he loves to learn, he’s always been teachable (Ladies take note). He absorbs new information, which means he is well-educated in things that matter to him. Sometimes his intellectual exploring will lead back to where he started; the "next new thing" proves too shallow or impractical to him. But once in a while, a new idea or belief will shift him from the ground he’s stood upon. It is so compelling and persuasive that he has to step away from the tried-and-true, and embrace this notion that is brand new to him.

Because he holds both solid beliefs and is open to new ideas, he is accepting of other people as well as other ways of thinking and believing. He is flexible enough to listen to something new and different, or something outside of his comfort zone. If it works for him, he'll take it in, and if not, he let’s it go. In this sense, he knows who he is: he is neither closed-minded nor wildly open-minded, but walk somewhere near the middle of the intellectual road and reason.

The things people are going to bitch about due to his way of thinking:

Not everyone will be thrilled by his flexible, middle-of-the-road (a matter of opinion in my opinion.) ways of thinking and believing. A few people are so taken with flights of imagination into whatever is new, that they might find his commitment to long-standing values and beliefs too confining, if not too boring. Oh well; so be it. They'll just have to be in free-flight without him.

Others are content with the ideas that have served them and their culture well. They're not excited by the prospect of moving on. And some people are afraid of new ways of thinking because they are somewhat fragile. They have trouble maintaining their current worlds and don't want someone like Frankie-boy, for instance, pushing out the edges of their intellectual cosmos. Don't be surprised if his solid values sometimes make people distrust him as an explorer, or if his flexible and open mind sometimes gets him criticized by people who walk away from the very same explorations that he finds refreshing.

What the bros will might say about their bro:

Many will find him trustworthy and therefore an attractive companion on the intellectual journey. They will appreciate the combination of his open-mindedness and commitment to the tried-and-true. In an intellectual climate sometimes dominated by the extremes of either wild innovation or dug-in traditionalism, his moderate views and proper acceptance of a wide range of possibilities will be a distinctive and refreshing quality. Because he joins his curiosity with strong foundational ideas, beliefs and practical solutions to problems, people will trust his occasional explorations into new territories to be reliable, and not "something new for newness sake".

He is accepting of others, flexible in his own intellectual commitments, well-informed in areas that matter to him. He is also comfortably aware of who he is and where he stands. This combination will make him a desirable companion on the intellectual journey for many, many people.

Emotional Stability

Steady or unsteady?

(Sounds like a fluids test to me.)

The crash course in crap you need to know about emotional stability:

We're all born with the capacity to feel deeply, so it's as natural as breathing to experience a range of emotions. Fear and joy, sadness and anger, shame and disgust all lie somewhere within each of us. Ah, but to what extent do we control these emotions, and to what extent do they control us? How we each answer this question of how our emotions play out in our lives has a great deal to do with our levels of personal satisfaction and with the character of our relationships with others.

Does Frank manage his emotions well, keeping them in check with his thinking and willpower, or is he someone who lets emotions have their way, giving in to the wild dance of feelings? The following paragraphs describe his emotional range in terms of being a person who is either emotionally steady or someone who is responsive to whatever feelings swell up within.

What surprised the hell out of Frank when he read it: Very Responsive!

Do any of these words ring a bell when trying to describe him?

Emotional
Insightful
Perceptive

Sensitive
Self-conscious

A general description of Frank’s radioactivity (Is there a half-life to this):

Each one of us encounters some hard times; we get caught off guard, or feel a sudden swell of emotion, whether from fear, joy, anger or sadness. Life is just a bitch sometimes. Sorry about your luck.

Frank knows that because he is an emotional person (A sensitive side for you ladies). Some people go to great lengths to keep their emotions under wraps, to keep a stiff upper lip, to not let others know what emotions they are feeling. But that’s not Frank. He embraces all of life's emotions, both the joys and the turmoil that life brings our way. (What else am I going to do, sell it on EBay?)

When he’s having fun with a group of friends, he doesn't even try to contain his pleasure. He laughs hard and feels every moment of the conversation. He does this because of the joy that comes from the experience. He makes very intense friendships; ones where all of the depth of emotions one can feel are experienced. Emotions are an essential part of his everyday life. He may cry at intense movies or when watching a sad story on the evening news (Naw, usually I’m laughing in disbelief at how dumb the world is). He gets angry, at others or (mostly) himself, and he doesn’t stifle it. Emotions drive his personality and relationships - he simply is what he feels (I guess that’s a passion for life, but who knows).

He experiences both highs and lows more profoundly than most (without the added overhead of doing drugs I might add). And he usually relishes the intensity of his emotions. He surely enjoys the good times. There are those times, though, when his feelings get the best of him, and he wonders how he’ll manage the moment (Bah, don’t let the man get you down. There ain’t nothing you can’t do in a race car). Because he’s so in tune with all his emotions, he will experience something very pleasant and will be able to engage with that positive feeling to again enjoy the wonderful intensity that life has to offer.

More bitching from the peanut gallery:

If we were to ask Frank what negative reactions may result from his approach to his emotions, it would likely be that some people find it hard to deal with his strong feelings. They might think of him as emotionally "over the top," and wish he would be more like those who are always emotionally composed and less prone to fully engage their emotions.

What the other critics might say:

Despite any negative reactions others may have towards him, many people will be grateful for his strong emotions, and willingness to experience these emotions. They will appreciate the candor with which he expresses even his deepest feelings, feelings they themselves might want to express, but may find difficult to share. Frank’s openness will be an encouragement to them as well. Still others may find his intensity compelling (Hint: wear sunglasses if it’s too bright for ya). Some feel emotionally flat, and he could be a burst of passion in their dull worlds (Or when the man has you down), and an encouragement to them to "get with" their own feelings (Dating yourself? I’ve been getting with myself for months. All I got was the encouragement to find a woman). Any or all of these people will be grateful for a friend who is so emotionally present.

Conscientiousness

Focused or Flexible?

I know it reads like stereo instructions, but:

It's a work day, breakfast is over. He’s dressed and ready to go. So how will our Frank approach the tasks at hand? Some people work best with a clear schedule, a set of priorities and a due date for every step in the process. Others are, shall we say, less regimented. They approach a task with as much imagination as organization, and with a willingness to bend and modify in order to exercise some urge of creativity.

What about Frank? Does he walk in a straight line toward a clear goal, or is he more likely to dance his way down whatever path will get him wherever it is he’s headed? The following paragraphs describe ways in which Frankie-poo approaches the tasks life brings. You’ll also find out to what extent he is focused and/or flexible in how he chooses to proceed.

Frank’s Approach to Obligation is: Focused & Flexible

Another table with bullets and words:

Casual
Informal
Compliant

Reliable
Organized
Solid

Dependable
Uncommitted
Genuine

How does he do this:

When he takes on a task at work or at home, he’s reliable. He get’s the job done. In an organized way, he defines the goal, lays out a plan, figures how long the task will take, and gets to work "solid and dependable as always."

But and this is important, he’s not a slave to the plan. He’s committed to it, but not chained to it. The connection is more casual and informal. He knows that sometimes "the best laid plans" fall off the tracks or out of the sky. When this happens, he cleans up the train wreck and starts over, undeterred.

Though not happening often, when plans change, he’s okay with it. In fact, sometimes he’ll change the plan. For example, if it's too nice of a Saturday to finish organizing the garage, he might say “Let's go for a bike ride instead.” True, the next rainy Saturday will likely find him back in the garage, but for now the work can wait. (It’s all about getting the most out of life, the optimum burn for intensity and longevity.)

What an interesting (their choice of word, not mine) combination of qualities. He’s organized, but casual; solid, but compliant; and dependable, but informal. At home and at work, people know they can rely on him. He takes great satisfaction in knowing that people think of him as disciplined and responsible, but he also knows that you have to have something of a free spirit inside. When this spirit moves him, off he goes, following the impulse of the moment. He’s right proud of his work ethic, but he also enjoys his willingness to lay the tools down, crank up the music, and play like a child (Work hard, play hard).

More comments from Siskell and Ebert, though I prefer Statler and Waldorf:

Some people live like Marines: duty-bound, disciplined and driven. To these people your man Frank might seem uncommitted. Where they would never leave work for play, or change plans in the middle of their life's forced march, Frank lets the circumstance sway him and move in a different direction. They don't understand.

Others live like kites on a string, attached by thin threads to the solid ground of responsibility and are blown about by every gust of impulse or imagination. To these people Frank might seem too cowardly, like he'll flirt with the impulses, but never give in fully, play on a Saturday but never blow of the entire work-week to "follow his bliss".

While these Marines and kite-flyers might look down on him for his combination of focus and flexibility, others might be envious. They can't free themselves from a sense that they're not doing enough, or from the equally frustrating feeling that they're not free enough.

And here Frank is, with his accomplishments and pleasures, getting the job done but also getting his hair blown back as he runs with the wind, or straight into it. As far as these people are concerned, he’s lucky to have the best of both of the worlds in which they feel they fail.

Comments from those likely on prozac, zanifdol or any of those other drugs with little cartoon characters running across the screen:

What a great life Frank has, and a great attitude to boot. When he’s not being a sarcastic SOB, he knows when to buckle down and push ahead to get the job done (as does every Capristo), and he does it well. He knows when to lay the tools of the trade aside, grab his kite and head for the meadow where he can run with the wind as well (Or stay at home and pleasure the misses). Many people will see and admire Freddie for this lovely combination of a person who can focus, but who is flexible enough to know when to let the spirit move him in some new and livelier direction.

It's a life most aspire to, and people are delighted in seeing it played out in his life. Some may ask his advice and turn him into a mentor of the full and balanced experience. They will want to know how he does it, what the costs are, and if he gets frightened (I lost my teddy bear, will you sleep with me?) that he’s not working hard enough or playing often enough. They may make him think about his own life more than he has, so he can share it with those who want to emulate this balance between flexibility and focus. They may be correct, that lucky son of a gun!

Extraversion

Outgoing or Reserved?

It’s your last chance, but in case you’re too dumb to figure it out:

Some days Franktoberfest wants to hang out by himself, not answer the phone, and make the world go away. The next day he’ll e-mail everyone, go to lunch with a friend, and try to find some gathering to take part in that evening (I didn’t know I was a fucking rollercoaster). It may be the phases of the moon, or something he ate; some days are just like that. In actuality, his desire to be with others or to be alone reflects something deep in his personality. Some of us are more comfortable by ourselves or with one or two friends, while others crave the crowd and can't stand it when the house is empty or the phone doesn't ring. The following paragraphs describe Frank’s fundamental desires about being with other people; whether he is generally an outgoing person or more reserved, if he seeks adventures with others, and if he tends toward assertiveness or kindness.

When it comes to being an arogant prick or being a floppy cock, Frank is:

Sometimes Outgoing, Sometimes Reserved

The last little box of words describing Frankie Boy:

Moderate
Amiable
Laid-back

Temperate
Relaxed
Poised

Civil
Uncommitted
Pleasant

A general description of how Frank plays with himself and with others (Princess Bride “gentley”):
Lucky Spank! He enjoys his own company as much as he enjoys the company of others. He’s a great conversationalist and thrives in the wonderful kinds of connections he knows how to have with his family and friends. He also equally enjoys his own company, whether sitting in a favorite chair with his book and soft music playing or wandering in the woods by himself. He likes going home to his family or roommate (when he has one); but if no one is home, he finds quiet, solitary time to be just as pleasurable. What a great combination to enjoy being outgoing and to be just as comfortable being reserved. Lucky Focker!!

Because he is so amiable and relaxed, he is comfortable with almost any group of family or friends. Whether they are pumped up and lively or calm and subdued, he remains at ease. If someone needs to take over the conversation, he is comfortable taking the lead. Frank can also lay back and let someone else be in charge. No big f-ing deal. If the conversation gets rowdy, his moderate demeanor will often draw it down to a more temperate level. If someone in the group loses their cool, he will most likely maintain his poise, and if they get nasty he knows how to keep a civil tongue, even though he may want to back hand the SOB.

He may find himself out of balance on occasion. If he’s alone too much, he may need to get in touch with someone. If he spends too much time with his family and friends, he will most likely need to sneak off for a day by himself. He’ll putter and read and clear his head of the noise of too much conversation. When he’s at his best, he lives in a rhythm of time with others, time alone, time with others, and time alone. It's a satisfying, comfortable balance. Lucky him!

The Last Bit O’Negativity
Our Frank may occasionally run into problems with other people. Since not everyone is as balanced as he is, close friends and family may get frustrated with him, or he with them. They may be more sociable and outgoing, and find him too laid-back and relaxed. They want conversations to be lively and passionate while he keeps things amiable, civil and dialed down. Or, others may be more quiet and reserved than him, and when he’s in one of his more animated moments, they may wish he would back off, sit down and shut the hell up. He may be ready to put more energy into a conversation than they are comfortable with.

His balance may be a problem. Other people may be consistently more sociable or more reserved than him, and find him to hard to read. Some may even say he rides the fence. Others may find themselves envious of his ability to be outgoing at times, and at other times comfortably reserved. As long as he has his head pulled out of his ass, and pays attention to pick up on these cues, he’ll be in a better position to interact with such folks.

End It On a High Note; Get Stoned, Get in a Plane, Get High In a Plane:

Most people, of all IQ’s, will truly appreciate his flexibility in social situations. They will like him for his amiable warmth and willingness to put in his two cents. At the same time, they will respect and admire him for his ability to sit back and let others take the lead or the spotlight. No insecurities about needing to be the center of attention with this guy. They will appreciate the ways in which he tempers what could become intemperate moments; by remaining poised and relaxed when others are flipping out and getting out of line. When the temperatures are a rising, he cools things off to keep everyone merry and chill (We’re only talking about social settings here ladies, this Capristo is all Capristo).

He is as good at listening and following as he is at talking and leading. A true leader helps others to lead themselves. People will often appreciate his ability to adapt to the situations at hand. Because he is sometimes outgoing and sometimes reserved, he’ll make most people comfortable in his presence, and they will truly enjoy his company.

In Closing

There you have it, to the best of my ability, I hereby sign away my life, liberty and first born child should I be found guilty of perjury. I answered a whole bunch of questions as best as I could. I hope you agree, agree with the good, and can help me improve those other points. We never stop growing as people, but we each have our cores. This has been an attempt to let you all look in. I hope you enjoyed.

Frank’s Type of Girl

Everyone always ends up saying the same thing; “Frank, we need to find you a girl.” Sometimes they say a girl who will unmercifully ride me from dusk till dawn, although use me like a pogo stick was more often used.

Indeed, I often find myself quoting Pirates of the Caribbean with “You’ve got to find yourself a girl mate.” Unlike the movie, I haven’t already found myself one. Kiera doesn’t live in the neighborhood.

Here we are though, Frankie’s been just about another year in Germany, seen lots of eye candy, but never been able to sample let alone claim one of Germany’s honeys for his own. As always, I am inclined to wonder why?

For starters, it goes back to the way it’s always been, Frankie doesn’t know to mack. When I’m in my game, I know how to play, but my game has never been the walk up to some random attractive girl and as her her name. My game has always been the random chance game, where someone introduces me and we start to chat. On the off chance that a buddy is a’mackin, and I happen to be playing wingman, it’s easy cause I’m just along for the ride. In very rare circumstances, some girl find me irresistible and has to be over obvious with me. And that’s the way it is.

I suppose the hard part for me, is that the level of attractiveness doesn’t guarantee the level of attractiveness, if you know what I mean. Beauty doesn’t mean I’m going to remain interested, and I want to have something more than that to go on.

So what am I really after? What kind of girl is Frank’s type? I think part of my problem is that I don’t exactly know myself. I know what I know from experience, I know what I want to do with my life, and what that means as far as a woman, is somewhat hard to explain. I find myself turning to The Girl Next Door, although I’m not looking for a blond in particular.

I go to the diner scene. They’re there and she’s telling the kid they need to find him a girl who is attractive, can make him laugh and who will push him to do things he never thought possible. Indeed. And to evaluate that, I don’t like the over made up beauties. Most actresses and models are attractive, but only in the over done sense. Maybe that’s my opinion, cause that’s the only way I ever see them other than how they’re made up for some film. But I must confess, I’ve found certain ones attractive in a film, but the real life shots of them just plain… suck. I don’t like the plastic look. I don’t like the over generous chest, or anorexic looks either. I don’t like the frills or extreme looks. I like the tasteful girl next door look.

I don’t usually like the short hair look. I’m usually more of a fan of shoulder length or longer. Hair and eye color don’t really matter, it’s usually more of just a way everything looks together. I know I’m a big fan of legs and not chests. Looks are usually a case by case basis with me, but I know I’m not a fan of the piercing or tattoo ladies. Ear rings are nice, leave the nose and everything else alone.

Personality, of course it’s important. There are some guys who refer to girls that have personality, meaning they have large chests, but I’m after the real thing. What does that mean? I can’t exactly say. She should be nice, but not too nice. Girls that are always in a good mood just have something wrong with them. I want a girl with a sense of humor, or who can, at least understand and put up with my humor.

Intelligence is also important. I don’t mean just book smarts, but an understanding of the world in general. I want someone who can evaluate the world and look at it from various points of view. She should be confident in her own thoughts, but be willing to reevaluate opinions based on new information.

And while I generally break things down into those 3 things; looks, personality and intelligence, I know I have more specific things. I need a girl who likes the outdoors. I don’t want some girl who just wants to go to the beach and sit with her book. There’s time for that too, but I’d like to have a girl who is willing to go sailing, hiking and camping as well. I want a girl who will go dancing, but also enjoys a quiet evening in a café. I want a girl who likes a quiet evening in front of a movie as much as going to a party and staying out till 5am. She should be willing to try new things, and be forceful enough to make me try new things. We should be able to plan things together, and flexible enough to be spontaneous with things.

We are all strong and weak. We all have the moments when we are up or down. I need a girl who will lean on me when she needs it, and can be supportive when I need it. I don’t know. I feel like it’s all bs. I want a girl who simply has “that spark.” I want a girl who will be a good mother. I want a girl who can look sexy in jeans and a shirt, without trying, and who can be dead sexy when she wants to be. And she’ll do it just to drive me crazy, and somehow I’ll be able to do the same for her.

I want a girl who can lead, follow and walk beside me. I want a girl who wants to share it all, and discover even more. Does such a girl exist? Damned if I know. I know what I’ve held in my arms. I know the magic I’ve touched and for whatever reasons, it went to a certain point and that’s it. But what I’m after, what I believe we are all after, is the one that brings no boundaries and who is timeless. And so it is she, who is my type of girl.

02.09.06 Frank the Scout

For those of you who know or don't know, I was active in scouting. Most people don't really know what that means. Some thinks that it means you never do anything wrong, and always help little old ladies across the street. I'm not going to go in and debate that, but what I will say, is that I try to live by the points in scouting. I hope when you read these, you see and understand me.

Scout Law

TRUSTWORTHY

A Scout tells the truth. He keeps his promises. Honesty is part of his code of conduct. People can depend on him.

LOYAL

A Scout is true to his family, Scout leaders, friends, school, and nation.

HELPFUL

A Scout is concerned about other people. He does things willingly for others without pay or reward.

FRIENDLY

A Scout is a friend to all. He is a brother to other Scouts. He seeks to understand others. He respects those with ideas and customs other than his own.

COURTEOUS

A Scout is polite to everyone regardless of age or position. He knows good manners make it easier for people to get along together.

KIND

A Scout understands there is strength in being gentle. He treats others as he wants to be treated. He does not hurt or kill harmless things without reason.

OBEDIENT

A Scout follows the rules of his family, school, and troop. He obeys the laws of his community and country. If he thinks these rules and laws are unfair, he tries to have them changed in an orderly manner rather than disobey them.

CHEERFUL

A Scout looks for the bright side of things. He cheerfully does tasks that come his way. He tries to make others happy.

THRIFTY

A Scout works to pay his way and to help others. He saves for unforeseen needs. He protects and conserves natural resources. He carefully uses time and property.

BRAVE

A Scout can face danger even if he is afraid. He has the courage to stand for what he thinks is right even if others laugh at or threaten him.

CLEAN

A Scout keeps his body and mind fit and clean. He goes around with those who believe in living by these same ideals. He helps keep his home and community clean.

REVERENT

A Scout is reverent toward God. He is faithful in his religious duties. He respects the beliefs of others.

Scout Oath

On my honor I will do my best

To do my duty to God and my country

and to obey the Scout Law;

To help other people at all times;

To keep myself physically strong,

mentally awake, and morally straight.

Scout Motto

Be Prepared

Scout Slogan

Do a Good Turn Daily

The Eagle Scout Charge

The foremost responsibility of an Eagle Scout is to live with honor. To an Eagle Scout, honor is the foundation of all character. He knows that "A Scout is trustworthy" is the very first point of the Scout Law for good reason. An Eagle Scout lives honorably, not only because honor is important to him but because of the vital significance of the example he sets for other Scouts. Living honorably reflects credit on his home, his church, his troop, and his community. May the white of the Eagle badge remind you to always live with honor.

The second obligation of an Eagle Scout is loyalty. A Scout is true to his family, Scout leaders, friends, school, and nation. His loyalty to his troop and brother Scouts makes him pitch in and carry his share of the load. All of these help to build the loyalty which means devotion to community, to country, to one's own ideals, and to God. Let the blue of the Eagle badge always inspire your loyalty.

The third obligation of the Eagle Scout is to be courageous. Courage has always been a quality by which men measure themselves and others. To a Scout, bravery means not only the courage to face physical danger, but the determination to stand up for the right. Trusting in God, with faith in his fellowman, he looks forward to each day, seeking his share of the world's work to do. Let the red in the Eagle badge remind you always of courage.

The fourth obligation of an Eagle Scout is to be cheerful. To remind the Eagle Scout to always wear a smile, the red, white, and blue ribbon is attached to the scroll of the Second Class Scout award, which has its ends turned up in a smile.

The final responsibility of an Eagle Scout is service. The Eagle Scout extends a helping hand to those who still toil up Scouting's trail, just as others helped him in his climb to the Eagle. The performance of the daily Good Turn takes on a new meaning when he enters a more adult life continuing service to others. The Eagle stands as protector of the weak and helpless. He aids and comforts the unfortunate and the oppressed. He upholds the rights of others while defending his own. He will always "Be Prepared" to put forth his best.

You deserve much credit for having achieved Scouting's highest award. But wear your award with humility, ever mindful that the Eagle Scout is looked up to as an example. May the Scout Oath and the Scout Law be your guide for tomorrow and onward.

31.05.06

A Day in the Life of this Capristo

If the alarm is set, it goes off at a quarter past 6, just like it the days of old when I used to have to follow my father to the shower. The shower takes about 10 minutes, 5 to shower and 5 to strip/dry off. I have my own sink in my room. I press play to whatever playlist is loaded in winamp and shave. It’s about another 10 minutes to do that, and I’ve finished drying the rest of the way off. It’s time to throw on a pair of pants and maybe the t-shirt of the day before walking down to the kitchen. I nuke some coffee water and then sip it as I finish dressing.

Somewhere between 7 and quarter after I leave for work. If I’m feeling frisky, I’ll take the 25 minutes and walk. Most days it’s a 15 minute bike ride. She’s a weathered older style mountain bike. I can’t make time on her the way I could on the road bike, but she’s all season transportation. We cruise along at a pace that keeps me from turning into a sweaty mess by the time I get to work. Walking is nice if I’ve got the time. I’ll finish waking up before I get to work. I’ll have time to get my thoughts in order for the day and admire the beauty of my surroundings. If it’s raining, I’ll arrive at work a little wet on my thighs, but dry off pretty quick.

I’ll swipe in and walk upstairs. If I’m wearing a jacket or fleece, I’ll hang it up and go around, say good morning and shake everyone’s hand. It’s the standard practice here. If someone has a birthday, or for some reason has some goodies, they’ll be sitting on the counter next to the coffee machine. I go and fire up the computer, get out my notebook and whatever clips of paper I need for the projects I’m in the middle of. About that time it’s time to log on and fire up Outlook. If I’ve gotten any emails over night, I check them out.

If I’ve got samples being built, I’ll go down there to check on the status of things and see what’s going on. If not, I’m in the middle of data up to my elbows with paper scattered across the desk and on top of parts. I’ll wait till 8 if I need to make any calls. If it’s a normal day, I’ve got till about 8:20-8:30 till Erkan and Oliver get in. If they’re there earlier (7:30ish), I know they’re in for a rough day and probably a rough week. I plan accordingly.

Things are a dull roar or full bore. There will be about 10 different things on my plate at once. Some are hot and need to be taken care of asap. Some are things I need to set up with other people and keep track of. The rest are things that are waiting for the 5 minutes I wish I had.

The wholly time is from 9-9:15, break time. Most people bring in bread with something on it or go to the caf. If I’m starving I’ll run out to the caf. If things are running really good and the techs invite me, which they will, I’ll go and eat at the caf with them. Thursday is Leberkäse with eggs and Friday is Bratwurst. I usually work through it. I say screw it, I’ve got too much to do, too little time.

It’ll be a hard push of madness up until lunch. I might have to run out to our large storage area or the main production line. I might be measuring something in the fine measurements lab, or by hand in the small sample storage room. If I need a Mat. Sci guy I will probably be out there to drop off or pick up parts. Towards 11:30 my stomach lets me know what time it is. Jessica and I usually walk over between 12 and 12:30. It usually depends on what we have going on. She’ll probably wait for me if I’m in one of the other areas. We usually go and pick up sandwiches, and take orders for anyone else who wants something. Gitte will probably want a light sandwich or Kit Kat, but not always. Occasionally, when there’s something good, we might eat at the caf.

The afternoon goes by too fast. I haven’t gotten enough done, but I’ll probably burnt out enough. I’ll take it up to somewhere between 5:30 and 6. I’ve had to set 6 as my get your shit together and get out of here time. If I’m in a pinch, it gives me 20 minutes to finish whatever email(s) I need to write and make it out before I go over the legal 10 hour max work day. Those last 20 minutes go by too fast and if I’m in the middle of data I know I have to save and shut down at 6 or I’ll probably be sucked in and go over the time limit. It’s like being back on the race car team, what should have only been another 5 minutes always turned into another hour. The girlfriends never appreciated that, not that I can blame them.

It’ll have been one crazy day. I’ll have had about 10 gears to switch between about as many times as an F1 driver. I’ll still have the wind down; the overlap time takes a while. It’s better when I walk or have to pick up some food. Dinner is always some sort of meat with a side, probably rice or mashed potatoes or I’ll break things up with pasta. Everybody is always dazzled with my cooking, although I maintain that it’s nothing special. I usually make my meat a little crispy/burnt. Not bad, just starting to, like it was cooked on a grill. People are always worried about it, but I tell them it’s perfect.

If it’s a Monday or Wednesday, I’ll probably be playing soccer. Afterwards we’ll all chill in the hallway waiting for each other to cycle through the shower. If it’s a Tuesday or Thursday I might be bowling with a couple of the guys from the sample shop, but we don’t do it every week. I might hang out with Marcel and company, watch a movie, read, write, work in Photoshop, compose a new playlist or go to the internet café. There are always a number of spontaneous things that can happen as well. I can always go to the park or down to the river to sit on a bench in the setting sun.

Somewhere between 11 and 12 I’ll hit the hay. It will most likely be closer to 12. If I go to sleep earlier, I’ll wake up before my alarm.

If it’s the weekend, Friday might be quiet or spontaneous. Most likely, I’m too burnt out to stay out past 1 and will consider the night a success if I’m busy till 11. Unless I stay out past 2 or consume more than 6 drinks, I will begrudgingly wake up somewhere between 8 and 9, if not earlier on my own. King Morningwood will tell me to get up. I am obliged to follow his command, but return promptly to bed and will probably dream till 11. I might have the urge to get up and start the day early, but I remind myself I need to rest up for the night to come.

I’ll get up, go pick up grocery to get me through the rest of the weekend. Everything outside of restaurants and similar establishments is closed on Sunday. I’ll enjoy walking around. If the weather is decent, the scenery will be too. I’ll go check out what’s in the charts, but most of it won’t interest me. I’ll be happier cruising through DVD’s looking for something good on sale. I might walk into one of the toy stores / model shops and check things out. I’ll hit up the clothing stores and do window shopping, just to see if there’s something I like. For the most part, my wardrobe is complete with all the shirts and pants my mother and girlfriends have given me over the years and I won’t see anything I want or need. Saturday night is go out night. Someone is always doing something. Depending on who I’m with, where we are and how things are going, I’ll probably walk home between 1 and 6 if I’m not crashing at someone else’s place. It will take me a maximum of 45 minutes regardless of where I am. Most likely in the 10-15 minute range. It’s always nice to do things that way. The cool night air is always refreshing. If I’m lucky, the stars will be out and I’ll gaze the whole way back.

Sunday will probably start around 12 but can be as early as 10 and as late as 1. I’ll get up, eat something. If the weather is nice, I’ll go outside and read somewhere. If not, I’ll sit on my bed and read or write in my journal. Time goes by so fast with so much going on. I won’t remember it if I don’t keep up with whatever the last two weeks have been like. One week can be hard enough. Most of the kids on my floor go home on the weekend. They trickle in Sunday evening. If there are enough of us around and the weather is right, we’ll go outside and kick the soccer ball around a bit. The rents might call in the evening sometime. I might have laundry to hang up or fold. I won’t be tired enough Sunday night, just as I was too tired Friday night. It will have been a week that went by too fast (weeks start logically with Monday here thus ending with Sunday), but I’ll have a whole new week to look forward to. And that’s the way the days go by. I can indeed feel them flying like a hand out the window in the wind.

20.2.06 So here we are, I haven’t really been up to much, so it’s time for some more of Frank’s random thoughts. Talking to the old man a while back on the phone, I was telling him how I’d been writing what’s become my autobiography. Not because I think that I’m that special, but because I wanted to put all the stuff down on paper before I forget any more of it. I want to have something concrete so that the things that I go “Oh, yeah, I forgot all about that,” are there to read.

Anyway, it’s always nice sharing with the old man, as it is with all the people I’m close with. The old man is more than a father, he’s a best friend as well. Both of the rents are. And like any good friend, it’s great because you know each other and can be constructive while still having a good time. It’s nice having someone that always agrees with you, but that doesn’t help you grow as a person either. There’s nothing to challenge your thoughts, whether you agree with the challenge or not. It’s a good thing to be presented with a different point of view from time to time. Of course it’s a good thing to feel like you’re not all the way out in left field either; center-left will do just fine. I didn’t want to be a white or black sheep, I wanted to be a blue one. Of course the closest I ever came was the Smurf incident on my 5^th birthday. My first incident with blue balls was, well not as bad as any other. Literally. I’ll never get clothes wet again without having washed them first.

So the old man, in his infinite wisdom, reminded me not to beat up the past too much. “Remember you did things for your reasons and knowledge at the time.“ And that’s true. You can always what if yourself to the end of time. It’s interesting to evaluate things. Sometimes I’ve gotten to a point we all get to at times, the “why the f did I do that?” But we all have our reasons.

So why do we do the things we do? I’ve been tossing it around. I think I can only really present the guy perspective. If I knew why women do the things they do I could write a book and get rich. They’ll make it into a movie. Maybe I can get Mel Gibson to play the part of the guy…. In my opinion, guys do the shit they do in the name of wine, women and song. Mostly in the name of wine and women, cause if you have them, the song usually comes along for the ride. If you push the right button, she sings for you. If not, you’re the alcoholic cowboy singing Every Rose Has It’s Thorn. I know that’s technically not a country song, but it makes my point. We’ve got jobs to sustain alcoholism, pimp it for chicks and all the rest of the things we like to do in our spare time. But that’s just the surface, there are lots of situational settings.

First and foremost, you do something because you wanted to. You saw a pretty girl, you said to yourself, “I gotta talk to her,” you went and talked to her. Now to clarify, guys are always thinking with their wieners, our body doesn’t allow us to pump blood down there for that long. But that’s just the example I picked. It was either that or buying a car, and I figured most of you are sick of me talking about cars all the time.

Next case, cause it seemed like a good idea at the time. This one is usually related to wine. It seemed like a good idea to drink 20 ounces of vodka in a 30 minute period of time… however, after another 30 minutes and the next 12 hours, that was obviously the wrong impression. So was mixing 3 beers and 3 tequilas that other time. We learn from our mistakes.

Cause it was the lesser of two evils. The old rock and a hard place. You can work half the time and play the other half, or you can not work and not have any money to play with. Actually, it’s more like a rule of thirds. Sleep doesn’t count as work or play, you need it to do both.

Cause it was the right thing to do. Some people have character. Some people have the guts to do the unfavorable thing, but the thing they know is right in their heart. Sometimes you knowingly let your balls get kicked in. You can see it coming, but you don’t turn, you don’t guard yourself, you take one for the team – the hard way. Sometimes you gotta do it to stay true to yourself, and to those around you.

Cause it wasn’t worth the risk. Maybe you were just too comfortable, maybe you were contempt with everything you already had. Maybe you had too much responsibility to other people.

Cause it was a dream come true. I think one of the worst things someone can do, is turn down their dreams. Sometimes, yeah, it has to happen. Sometimes you have to choose between two dreams. But when you’ve got a real chance, when it’s starring you right in the face, sometimes you gotta take it.

Just for the f of it, - Diet Coke. Well, hopefully something more worthy than diet Coke. Maybe some real coke, you know, none of that clear or lightweight stuff. Just the plain old fashion mixture from that classic formula. None of that Wegmans crap, no straws, mirrors or playing cards required. Just because why not, that’s why. To be or not to be, - just for the f of it.

Cause you don’t give a flying…. That would be the mile high club if you did. But hey, there are those times when we are so caught up in emotion, that we say that. Whether it’s hurt or frustration, it tends to be one of the two. Maybe you really just have no preference to the situation, but that nagging someone keeps nagging and you snap.

Cause it was the best you could do with what you had. Hopefully you’re not saying this about the love of your life. Maybe your mother in law. In either case, whether in extreme honesty or not, it may indeed reflect more about you than them. But to be serious, life, as with most things in life, is a compromise. You don’t get something for nothing. I don’t care if you’re rich, have the love of your life or don’t.

I will relate this to racing for just one moment. In racing, there is what is known as the traction circle. Accelerating is towards the top of the page, decelerating is down, cornering left and right point left and right, just like your IQ was normal. No reverse polar notation here. Now you can have pure acceleration, straight out towards the top of the page, pure cornering is left or right (they call that lateral acceleration) and downwards is, yes, you’ve got it, pure deceleration. In between each direction is a ratio between them. Some circles are larger than others, the vehicle more capable. The point being that you can only have so much in one way. What you give up in cornering you keep in braking. It takes great skill to drive around the circle at the edge of it for any given track. You’re limited by your skill, the car and the conditions on the track. Still if you know me, I used to do the best I could with the old Breeze, at every location and it was more than enough to keep most praying to the god of their choice.

Lastly I’ll wrap it up with cause it would be cool. Damn the consequences, sometimes you can see it and how much fun it’s going to be. You don’t care what it costs, what you have to do. For those 5 seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, years or decades, something are worth it all.

And if nothing else ladies, cause we men are always trying to prove to each other who metaphorically has the bigger phallic. Act like you don’t care, but we know size matters as much as knowing how to use it. It’s all about that traction circle thing I was just talking about; you just know it as the oh-or-no circle.

I’ve never been one who liked to answer the question, describe yourself, what are your characteristics. I suppose it’s because I want to be modest, too modest. I can remember on at least one occasion where people told me, damn, we didn’t know how much you did around here till you were gone. Ill be the first to admit, its hard sometimes, but good as well. I know the things I’ve done, but I don’t want to be like I’m your daddy. So I’m going to try to present my views on thing, maybe input a little commentary from things people have told me and let you decide who I am.

14.2.06 With recent events being what they are, my moving out and what not, I decided to write a little bit about my view on politics. I'm not going to talk about government. We all know what most of them aspire to be, but the comment I will make, is that most people only want to see things their way, or think that their way is the best way and there are just too many different kinds of life to do that. So I find most people to be no better than the politicians.

But to talk about my real topic, well, I found out a couple weeks beforehand that my rent would go up by 33% which would then take up close to half of my take home pay. I'd been asking about it since we found out about the renovation back in October. There were didn't knows and the response that it was to remain affordable to students. So with short notice, I was faced with the choice of having to try and afford high rent for a month while I looked for something else, or getting something else. Luckly, with the help of Siemens, I was able to come with what will be a solution that is the lesser of two evils. Still the timing has been poor and my landlord didn't seem too heart broken when I said I had to move out. So, does she already have people lined up and didn't mind putting me to the wind? I don't know for sure, so I can't say one way or another. But it got me to thinkin. Most people do what's right by them. I can't afford it, I'm moving out. I'll move into the new place, see what it's like, if I feel like staying long term and if not, I'll move. Of course we've all had significant others, some we broke up with some that broke up with us. We've all had our reasons. And I left Bausch after a great experience there, twice, but I was always honest and up front with my intentions as best I knew them and I tried to make sure they got as much from me as I did from them, that it was win-win for both sides. And I try not to hold things against people. We are who we are, no one is perfect. Some try to do things the right way, and regardless if they screw it up or not, at least their intentions and heart are in the right place. Some people don't give a rats behind, and some are out there trying to cause trouble. And I suppose there are those who just don't have a clue. But that's life. You take the dice an you roll. I coulda bailed a long time ago, but I liked where I was, so I kept rolling, prepared to do what I had to. It wasn't the end of devil 505 till it was time to punch out. So I am, in true Capristo style. It's going to be action packed, things are lined up, one on top of the next. Spring is right around the corner, but first it'll be time to do a little skiing. I love every single one of my host families, and I hope I've done it right by them.

Dec. 05

I think we all have something inside of us. Something that doesn’t change. We change with time, granted, we mold our experiences and are in turn remolded by them. I’ve seen some of my closest friends grow into something I hadn’t seen five years ago. They’re still the same people deep down, some are still the people I knew 10, 15 years ago, but older and wiser. And in that time, we’ve lived. We’ve done things no one, not even ourselves expected or thought we’d do. And that’s the interesting part about life. There are chances, there are chances to find new things we never knew existed.

We find different parts of ourselves. It’s difficult sometimes. The times when you feel so alone you don’t know what you’re doing, where you question every thing that has brought you to the present moment. It’s not that you’re uncertain, that you’re right or you’re wrong. It’s just a look inside, it’s the self check to make sure you are who you want to be, that you’re doing what you should be. It’s a difficult thing, it’s always a difficult time, but you’re strong and you’ll make it through just fine. The moon, the tide, the seasons, they all wax and wane, but if you know where they are, you know where they’re going to be. You know there’ll be snow in the hills, but that doesn’t prepare you for the beauty of it all the next time you see it, not even for the ten thousandth time.

And love is like that. You’ll have seasons where it seems like you’re on the out with it, but there is love year round. The smell of the melting snow in the first spring days, the sun and the wind on your face in the summer, the first frost of fall with the smell of changing leaves, and white beauty of winter with hot coco in hand and a wood fire burning in the stove. It goes on this way, the same things but new things. You may know me, but you’ll always see something new. 2005 is on it’s way out, it’s been a stellar year, so here’s to old tricks and something new.

-Who is this Frank Guy -

To start with, well, regardless of who people are, we are all people. We all have dreams, things that make us happy and sad, things that we are interested in and so on. Those are the foundation blocks relationships can be built on. I don’t care about age, sex, color, or whatever else you want to list out. I don’t care if you never graduated from school or have a PhD. If you’ll step into my analogy for a minute, we are all rock climbers. Some are going to climb hills with a shallow grade, good hand holds, something that might be considered easy, something you could just about walk up. Others are going to climb the most impossible slopes. But we’re all climbers, and I will talk with anyone on an eye to eye level, as an equal or better until I have a reason not to, until I’m disappointed with garbage that comes out of some peoples mouths.

I’m in no hurry to get to the end of life, only in a hurry to make the most of it, to pack every second, every minute, every day and so on with as much as possible so that I can look back and say yeah, I didn’t waste a dime. Time goes by too fast. I may never get to see and do everything, but there’s no reason why I can’t fill it with as many quality moments as possible. Things can be planned out or spontaneous, just so long as things happen.

I’m a situational kinda guy. Everything depends on what’s going on. As an engineer, I’d say it depends on constraints, the type of load being applied, and how something is constructed. You can have the same load, same constraints, but a completely different construction is going to give you a completely different kind of answer. You can see this in my driving. When I’m out on a race course, it’s on, ride the limit. We are all crazy idiots willingly risking our own necks. If I’m alone on a back road, well, it’s not quite as close, you have to factor in the fact that someone could be around every corner not expecting you on the limit to come roaring through. When I’ve got people in the car with me, well, I have a responsibility to them, to get them to wherever we’re going safely. Now every now and then someone will say make some time, show us what you got and I’ll open it up, but not like I would when I’m alone. And there’s normal driving. With some people, you can’t drive like a rapped ape. When I’m in someone else’s car, it’s my job to bring it back without a scratch. If I’m in traffic, I owe it to everyone else to control my urges to a dull roar. You can’t screw around too much when there are mommies driving their kids around. You’ll find me doing the same stuff on the ski slopes, sprinting in a kayak or shell across a lake or leaning out over the side of a sailboat to try and get the most out of it. I’ve always been curious, they should have named me George, but it’s not too hard to see that I became an engineer because I wanted to know how to make my own toys, and make to go closer to their limits, to make them reset limits. That was the answer to that situation.

I love to laugh. Its usually related to my mind being in the gutter, but I like to play off things too. I don’t care if you’re having the worst day of my life, you gotta try and find humor in things, in yourself. If I do something dumb, that doesn’t really affect anyone else, I’m going to be like geez dumbass, what did you do that for. Focker. And I’ll answer my self in a retard voice, cause I’m stupid. I’ll think on Multiplicity or something funny and think “Sorry Steve, that legs gonna have to come off.” And then I’ll be like awe fuck it, and make it better, make it work. At the same time, I don’t like to let other people down. That hits a spot that ends me. I believe in family and friends. I believe in honor and if I screw up and damage any of that, then I don’t pass go, don’t collect $200 and go straight to hell.

My nonchalance (fancy word for not being picky) drives people nuts some times. What do you want to drink…? Well, if I can be happy with any of the choices it’s kinda eh, whatever, whatever you’re having. Some call that indecisiveness, but in cases like the one here, it’s the wrong application for the word. I also have this thing were I don’t want to cause too much trouble or make people go out of their way for me. I’m eternally grateful when they do, and hope I can show that one way or another.

I like to test and push myself. I like to say ok kid, lets see what you got. It’s a big motivator and I think that’s one of the reasons I used to procrastinate with school work, that and the aforementioned quality moments. I loved putting my 6x9 journal entries off until about the last night or two before they were do. I had it calculated out, about how fast I could do them, and I’d time it so that it would be an all-nighter, a do or die moment, no screw ups allowed night. I’d chew mint, crank the tunes and jam through the night. I’d get an 8.5/9 and laugh myself silly. People would look at me in amazement or get perturbed because they had done 4 or 5 a week the whole quarter, and spent more time on it and gotten the same grade, or perhaps a 9 but still couldn’t believe it. I like to be busy, I like to be doing stuff, I will find something to do.

I like to use my noodle. I like to think, evaluate, invent, create, build, but also philosophical. I’m going to look at history, its examples, its experience and try and apply that. I try to restrain from thinking with my penis, or at least a completely uninhibited one. Most of the time, when you let your penis lead you, someone slams the door on it and that’s no fun. So if I may consult others, just to double check my own thoughts, to make sure I’ve evaluated every perspective. No one comes up with everything, inspiration and genius can be sparked from the damedest places. And above all else, no one is right all the time.

I bow down and worship the under dog. I love it when the guy no one thought could do it, comes out of no where and dazzles everyone. I love it when people accomplish stuff that others said couldn’t be done. I think I identify it. If you don’t want me to do something, you better be able to rationalize it, cause telling me not to is just like waving the flag in front of the bull.

I try to be a gentleman. I think they are the last of a dying breed. Its tough these days, you got women who don’t want you to hold doors for them, or think you’re hitting on them if you do. You got your boys always trying to get you laid. Not that I mind the help, but people gotta understand, I have my own terms and standards and I’m going to stick by them. And there’s more to it than that, but yeah, I try to be, I’ve been known as and well, yeah.

Now to go along with that, I think most would agree than I’m a romantic. Over the years, I’ve been a poet and one to know how to treat a lady once I got her. There are at least a few out there that still remember the times we spent together, in the best of ways and so I think I must have done something right.

And When I´m not out going crazy, I like to go camping, backpacking or just somewhere where I can lay out and look at the stars. I might bring a pen and paper to sketch with. Besides the usual rock, I like film scores. I like stuff with drive in it, that could just carry you into the wind and make you feel like you had a rocket strapped to your back. I like the stuff that makes you feel that no matter what, you can do it, you´re going to do it. And I like some of the softer stuff that carries you off.

There are a lot of sides to me. I have a lot of interests. Some people are surprised that I became an engineer, but that´s out of the context they knew me. I´m a jack of all trades kinda guy, and I´ve mastered a few along the way. I´ve been called a renaissance man for it. And somewhere in there, I make my mark. I think I´m the kinda guy people will always remember. The guy who was a good guy, worked hard, did a good job and lived as well. Someone who would not walk in front of you, not behind you, but be by your side, call it the way he saw it. Someone who wasn´t too scared to push himself or try new things, but smart enough to look at the whole picture, to consider others as well as himself.

So there it is. I hope my head isn´t too big, that I haven´t exaggerated too much. To those of you who don´t know me but managed to find the site, that´s me trying to look in mirror, but show you what´s rolling around behind the eyeballs as well.

Times I'll Never Forget

2005-11-06T12:44:00.000+01:00

I can't possibly think of all of them at once, but here's a first cut:

Bipity-bopity-boom - Orrin had discovered that by swinging one of those balls (you know what I'm talking about, with a handle that you can bounce around on) he could transfer enough energy into his 40-50lb brother to make him fly 5-10 ft. We were in 3rd grade and it was great, right up until PJ got hurt. And then came a sound I will never forget, "Orrin Michael Barnhart get over this instant!" As far as childhood summers go, that was the best. We'd call each other up at the same time at times, both get busy signals, shit like that. I was always racing down there and we would do something.

Camping up on South Hill in the leantoo, middle of winter. "Steamroller" "La Chavaleros"

13th birthday party - chillin around a campfire, meatloaf playing cause it was cool at the time

Camping in the winter up at scout camp, Orrin burning his boots into sandles and the shovel handle too.

Scout Camp '96 - Redneck Olympics. Running around staff week with Pete, Joe and the rest of campcraft/skills in the red truck. The nights off, the Courtney couch, Racing on Super Nintendo with Orrin, hearing Melonchollie and the Infinite Sadness playing in the tent next to ours, OA Tapouts (the old ceremony, but post "knock out" era).

The Last Sasquatch District Camporee - Taking some medals with the Oneonta Boys, waking up to being 16 with Joeseph.

The Party up at Top of the World. Being DD and hearing "Tony's a player" the whole ride home.

Scout Camp 97 - Rob and Joe being badass. Going out to the Cobelskill fair, Tony taking a picture of the cute girl doing traffic duty.

Going up with John to see Cathrine, going to a party and having a good time.

Hanging out down in the shack with John, Joe & Tony. Falling asleep on Joe.

Winning 3 Klondike derbies in a row.

The staff parties - aka fuck _____ . Steak & Potatoes, jumping off the roof into the pool, hide and go seek, jumping on the ice, lawn ordement shopping, sledding. Tony waking up at 3am the first time and getting put back to sleep. Having breakfast made by Glens parents for us the next day. The Big hairry beast, Die Hard trilogy, playing cards.

Driving out to SU with Tony to visit Glen. The waterbotle incident, going out to college parties, pizza afterwards.

Going to see Titanic on Valentines Day '98 and getting my first kiss afterwards. Yeah, I was one of the record breaking crowd that went.

Stroke of Penis and Cantis atallis fuckis. Leave it to William to come up with that readin the back of my T-shirts. Good times chillin with William in Math.

BVJD - "I finally understand what it means!" Boys nights up at John's cabin.

The times up at William's cabin. Pulling both barrels at once. Watching a movie one night, not wanting to get up to go hunting the next morning. Having them throw it back in and me responding later with "Of course I wasn't going to get up, I'd already seen that scene."

The snowmobile trip to Marks. Getting stuck coming back.

AP History - Hoffie, froggie, Mark doing math hw in the back of the class, me giving answers to the rest of the class when we were reviewing for the regence. (My back itched that day for some reason, and being distance learning, well, everyone on our side got everything right)

Junior Prom - Topping the Lancer out and holding it between Oneonta and Schenevus. Driving out to a westford party to pick someone up cause I was the only sober one who could drive stick. - I was sober for both junior and senior proms, of which I'm proud of.

RYLA - It was a good week. Hanging out the dorm windows talking to the ladies, toga-ing, hiking our asses up and down hartwick.

Scout Cap '98 - Being on the waterfront for the first time. Titanic theme skit. Running to Conneticut and back in a night so Pete could visit a lady. Orrin and Pete doing the volleyball challenges.

Going out with Joe and Tony to the Milford dances senior year.

Sitting outside listening to Back Street Boys while waiting for Tony at Joe's one night, till he finally called us at 3am to tell us he was staying at Kims. I'll never forget the next morning when I went and picked him up either.

Crazy times with Joe & Tony - Playing pool, cruising up and down main street oneonta in the LTD with tunes cranked, going to Albany, my missions, the puppy dog look of rejection on my face and them cracking up. Bombing through the back roads to go to a dance competition in West Windfield, making time in the lancer. Walking with Tony to stop and say hi to Mike on the way back.

Teaching Orrin how to downhill. Bouncing off the guardrail and going skiing anyway. Tony wipping Orrin and I out.

Tony's 16th birthday party. Will zipping himself up and being asked about it later on while getting his baseball physical. The two of them side by side getting ready to pray to the porcelin god. Will or Joe asking me how I was doing and me responding "I'd be fine if the shit would just stop spinning!"

Cranking my best hit ever in our game against Wocester. They say I woulda had a home run if I hadn't stopped on 2nd, oh well. Taking 3 was enough to make me smile.

Winning sectionals after losing tri-valley and going to states.

Senior Prom - King Orrin & Queen Emily, the Oneonta-Schenevus speed record revisited.

Graduation - Graduating regents with honors, the party afterwards. There's nothing like sitting around a campfire talking about the times.

Scout Camp 99 - Out in the cabin with Joe, Nick and John. Morning wood, bringing a couple milford girls up despite being sick, cause Joe wouldn't expect anything less, being worse the next day and getting caught. Spades. Going up to Jim's and jumping off the bridge.

Arriving in Germany - Having my luggage miss one of the flights, bombing down the autobahn doing 200 kmh. Having something to eat, going with Martin to go play soccer, falling asleep on the bus, but having a good time once we got there.

Ostwerk 9.9.99 - My first clubbing experience and a damn good one at that. Got introduced to the Hochzoll crew and couldn't fall asleep that night. Doing something no one, including myself, thought I had the guts to do, writing a letter in German and hitting on a girl the next day at Mo'town. The greatest risks yield the greatest rewards.

Going to the nearby lake a few days after school had started and having someone say hey, look, looking and seeing some guys ass and his balls hanging down as he was changing. That's culture for you.

Umweltwoche - Scott being Scott. Carrying stone, Thomas's crosseyed kid, playing bad touch and 3.14 every morning. Sitting up at night in the cabin, Scott trying to use the translator to translate dirty american sayings into spanish. Fernanda telling me that I work too hard.

Going to München with a couple other exchange students, having my first Maß, having to drink it in a half hour so we could go to the movies. Not daring to close my eyes for the first half of it cause the room would spin.

Going to see Creed one night, getting back at 3am, getting up at 6 and going to Heidelberg for the exchange student Christmas party, walking down the street after dinner with a case on my shoulder, people taking fresh ones out, putting emptys in all the way back to the hostle. Another thing you'd never see in the states.

New Years 99/2000 - It was one hellofa party. The fireworks, Melanie, someone else and I standing in the middle of the street making a wish and throwing empty champange bottles over our shoulders.

Moving out to Könnigsbrunn, Brother-Sister conversations with Julia. All of the movies, going skiing in the Alps, going to Köln and Bonn. Watching Stefan Rabb.

Having the Fam and Joe minus dad come visit. Going out to Peaches the first night. Going and seeing Harte Jungs, PM with the topless dancers and Ostwerk.

Big Band - The practice week, trip to England, chilling in the youth hostle with the boys, being sick the next day and not going on any of the rides at the amusement park, the concerts.

Moving up to Neusäß - Going out to Mo'town with Basti till 2am on a school night, but I got up and went to school the next day too! Going out with Mini & Hanna.

Going to get ice cream during afternoon break one day with Melanie.

Walking back from KFC to Neusäß with Scott one night in June.

Altbau Fest

The last days, saying good bye to everyone.

Getting off the plane in JFK, going through immagration and having the guy tell me welcome home. Stopping at Mt. Cisco the next day on the way home. Coming home and having Orrin, Beth and Sarah come by for a visit.

Driving out to Darien Lake with Tony and Joe to see Creed. Them making out with two random chicks, Tony getting cool-aide on his neck and shirt from her dyed hair. Moving to RIT the next day.

Building my computer with Lt. Dan (my roomie John). RSA-ing, LEAD retreats, Marci, B-dog, cornbitch.

Getting stuck up at Hartwick on new years and having to call the old man.

The spring quarter from hell. Working on the race car. Getting Promoted, getting a D in calc 3.

Going out to Indy for Scott's graduation. Staying a bit longer.

Scout Camp 2001 - The Camp Video!! The first Watermelon run. Hans & Franz skits. Speed runs over the back roads to Cooperstown while moonlighting as a painter. OB helping out the one night, sitting on the back deck, smoking a cigar.

Being an RA. Staff training, dad's second heart surgery, running to Albany and back in a day. Weekly Staff meetings.

Driving the race car, F8 for the first time.

Having my keys tossed around the floor, so I would stay longer.

Driving Sunday nights out to Buffalo, coming back Monday mornings half dead with the sun in my eyes. Pam and Aaron keeping me awake in Dynamics. Sleeping on the floor of building 6 in the basement, waiting to take notes in German. But we built F10, one of the finest formula cars ever.

Turning 21 in Detroit and getting a speeding ticket. Having it snow that day.

Spending 3 weeks in Augsburg. Brunnen Fest, Open Air Movies, Cappuchinos, Running in the rain to Murphys Irish Pub, going to München and walking around for the day.

Scout Camp 2002 - Lip Sync, men in tights. Laying out in front of the dining hall. Being one of the older guys. The Watermelon run 2. Partying with Joe and Tony on Cherry Street. Letting Tony try to cut my hair, Joe fixing it(yes, there was alcohol involved). Getting the wisdom teeth out.

Brake Leader, trying to RSA/narc again. Failing Numod mid quarter, having to quit RSA-ing but getting a B in that class. Lindsy & Amy giving me the occassional jab so that I would stay awake. Thank you ladies!

Going to Toronto with Aaron, Jess and her roomie. Talking about writing the engineers guide to dating.

Going to Australia to race F10. Meeting up with Koren in Melbourne. Trying for a second chance.

Going skiing with the waterfront crew.

Driving from home to RIT and back every weekend for winter quarter. Getting blown sideways on top of the mountain outside of Herkimer, driving by looking out the side window and gauging how far away I was from the bank. Believe it or not, I was leading people at a 5 mph pace.

Going out to Rain for Erika's birthday, getting my car towed. Opps. That's how you know you're a country boy in the city.

One crazy spring quarter. Building the car, mackin it. Working at reman, doing FEMA analysis. Driving skidpad in Detroit.

Going backpacking with Jeremy, Tony & Keith. We went a total of 3 times. Jeremy only got us lost twice. Not on the trail mind you, but on the way to his house, where we'd stop for a good home cooked meal.

Going to the Indy 500 with Erin.

Emily's graduation party.

Going to the firemans carneval. Having a good time with John S. Going to Nancy's afterwards, seeing Beth, emily and everyone. Talking with John about how does my brother do it, while he was working his magic. Staying at Banners for the night.

Having summer classes with the appartment all to myself. Cranking the oldies in the am while going into the bathroom, just like the old man used to. Grilling out behind the shop. Driving the car all summer long.

Taking 3 6 packs of Weizen to Oswego to visit Orrin. Going to his favorite bar for a Guiness and then over to some friends for a night of cards.

Vintage GP at Watkins Glen with Erin.

The fall quarter from hell. Going to the USGP, flying to Chicago, eating at the cheesecake factory. Going to the ER and getting diagnoised with migraines. Getting a second chance.

Reel Big Fish Concert with my bro. Who else could beat 2 girls out in a lap dance competition.

Going down under with F11. Racing in autocross and endurance. Getting 3rd in endurance. Being 3-4 seconds a lap faster than anyone else on the team.

Co-op at Bausch - talking to Jerry for hours on end. Running tests, late, which always seemed to fall on a Friday. Staying late till a report was done, working on the car at night. Brainstorming meetings with PMD and people from Waterford. Moving out to Scottsville. The first Live Run, process discoveries, software changes, talkin to the man D. Brown.

The Summer of Coffee! 22 Hrs of classes a week the second half and 20+ hrs a week at B&L. It was great getting to train Matt, even more rewarding seeing how far he's taken things. You're the man. Of course I got a reputation for drinking 32 oz of coffee a day, Wednesdays I'd go to sleep at 6, get up at 12 and go 24 hrs till 12 Thursday night, but I did it all. I work best under pressure.

Going hiking at Letchworth with Jeremy, then getting the look on the way back from some dudes girlfriend as they went by us in a Mitsu. Well of course I have chase and passed him back, but then it was on, and the old van was no match for him as he passed me again. We made him work for it though. He was alughing his ass off and so were we. What a riot.

It was great going to the USGP again, better weather for sure. Who else could run a Corvette out of gas on the highway. I'll never live that one down, right Scott?

Going to see Puddle of Mud, 3 Doors Down & Nickelback with Tony & Jess. Having Jess cock-block Tony the whole time!

Camping out in the infield of Watkins Glen. Sitting around a lantern, having Weizen with dad and Tony.

Moving to Marrysville, OH

The standard Honda issue white uniforms, name included, laundry for free. Dirty all you like.

Kyle getting wacked in the head with a caliper. Zip ties becoming standard issue to co-ops.

The weekly co-op crew newsletter. Have you flogged your crew today?

Playing soccer in the Honda League. Hearing people on the opposite team say watch out for that guy. Practicing one day, yaking, continuing practice in a dazze and scoring mad goals. -shoulda done that in a game, I might have actually scored then.

Winning our last indoor game.

The autocrosses, with James getting it tail happy, Chris taking out mad cones and Kyle being the man in the knockout ternament. Big thanks to James for getting my own tail happy experience on film.

Climbing. Great times, great talk.

"Enhanced" Grand Turismo - Spec racer Mini, stick racing (on the controller), going to Wendys afterwards with late night hunger to order just about everything off the dollar menu.

The Halloween Party! I need not go into details. All who were there will remember.

Going to visit Pam in Cinci. Going out to the Hofbrau Haus in Cinci. Going to the renessance fest a few weeks later.

K-Factor - bending a couple clamps in the process

Setting up static tests with the boys. Getting ripped on the whole way. There was a day when my face turned as red as the writing on our shirts.

Working with Howard to set up the test car.

Getting yelled at for using the test car as a shuttle car. Opps. Live and learn, but more importantly take responsibility for your actions.

Rollin in the ride with DVD audio crankin out Linkin Park's Reanimation disk and Dendis driving. Getting to gather road data myself.

Chris's 21st. "Enhanced" bowling style.

Bowling as a sub for Fink while he was on vacation with his woman. I still haven't been able to beat the 146 I bowled that night.

Chris demonstating how the control system was not working on the test car. Stopping for meatball subs.

Working with big Paul out in 40. "My &%$ hurts" and learning what it meant to make all bolts "German"

The 555TT. Getting brake fade, and having smoke come from the left front wheel. Locking the rear brakes up cresting a hill. Seeing Kyle chase James and being able to keep up with them by pushing the Breeze and using the gears.

Going out to the Stonehaus with Joan, Krista & Paul for some beer.

My going away party. I was overwhelmed by the attendance. I can't even begin to describe.

Picking up Aaron from the airport, going back to our appartment and having a cold one in salute to his experience in Würzburg, then going off to class.

Honda Prom. One more outstanding night of fun. Save a Horse, Ride a Capristo. Hey, all in Capristo style, no one would expect anything less.

Senior Design, wanting to bang my head into the wall with all the dumb lectures. I coulda learned more drinking hops and barely down at McGreggors.

Going out to a Feuerzangebowle Party. I'll never forget trying to stuff all those Hershy Kisses in my mouth with the stupid mittens on. Aaron, you're my hero.

Going home and out with my bro. There were many nights like that, but only one where I went to a party and met Jenn and Doozer. Dooz was mixin up some good shots. Country Rock was jammin that night. There were many nights when we all went out, sometimes to breakfast afterwards. Good times.

Of course I'll never forget coming back from the Fox and having Tony make breakfast, or the night we picked up the last 2 calzones from the pizzaria at 2:30 am. Brothers always!

And I sure as hell won't foget the night we were out till 5 am, after coming back from Utica in a snowstorm, going out, going to Neptune for breakfast and then driving home. I swear that car would go anywhere, well, almost, and that night I ran through the snowbank at the edge of the driveway doing about 20-25 mph. She made her way through it, snow flying everywhere, pushed all the way back to be big shed before getting hung up. And I still managed to get up and help clear the snow that day. Damn, now thems the stories to tell grandchildren. Not my children, I won't make the mistake my father did. We always wanted to be just like dad when we got older. *grin*

Sunday night dinner with Pam, Laurel & Aaron. Making Radlers & Rußs.

Graduation - It was certainly the fastest 5 years of my life to date.

Running back home on the weekends to visit dad in the hospital and finish the porch for Bethann's graduation.

Live runs 8 & 9, process development, LBI.

July 4th weekend! Getting pizza with Liz. Driving back and catching the Rochester fireworks with Aaron and Melissa.

Doozer's birthday party. I hope I never see my brother in a speedo again.

Fireman's Carneval - hanging out with our old baby sitter, Tony calling up the old man so that a girl could ask him about the Capristo secret/practice.

Golfing with the B&L crew. The going away/celebration party the week after.

The vintage GP weekend with Dad & Tony. Exploring more of the track.

Going to the IRL race at Watkins Glen with the parents and Orrin. Sitting in the Stratus talking to Orrin, lookin at pictures and joking around while having a couple German beers.

Nicknames

2005-11-05T15:53:00.000+01:00

In Random Order

Frank

Frankie

Frankie Boy

Frankie Poo

Freddie

Franko

Guy - A B&L Thing

Franko American

Fronk - Thanks James

Franswa - Ah, good times on the waterfront

Francois - Herzler back in the day

Frank Rizzo Baby

Narc, Narcie, Narcie Poo

Monté Cristo or simply "The Count" - Honda R&D

Frank “Nice Ass” Capristo – I still have the post card to prove it

Frankster - Courtesy of my O-town ladies

Spank - Leave it to Barnhart to come up with something like that

Speed Racer

Dr. Capristo - Tom, and it always had a nice ring to it

Shea - Thanks Munchkin for reminding me of that one

Der Amerikaner

Amee

Wolfman

Cantisatalisfuckis - William, back in high school math

Creature of the Night - now there's a new one. If she only knew the half of it. hehehe, my brother & I both for that matter.

Frankie Two Toes - Someones mafia name for me

Schlampe - as requested by OB, also the standard greeting for my bro and I. I teach people the German they can't learn in school.

MILF Rider - Erkan, that's the last time I tell anyone about how I became "the better looking one"

Edel Praktikant - "The Noble Co-op" - Thanks Clemens. For those of you working on perfecting your German, Edelstahl is stainless steel. Edelstoff - Noble/Precious Substance. This was used to describe what I had filled my flask with last winter skiing. You get the idea. For more explanations and usage: http://dict.leo.org

Frankie 24-7 - It happens to be that my extension is 247. Coincidence? You be the judge.

SIF - Senior Intern Frank, but only till April bitch. Once again, thanks go out to Erkan.

Email me with your additions: capristolive@googlemail.com

Quotes

2005-11-03T15:52:00.000+01:00

Quotes are listed in the following order: From People I know, Famous People, Movies, Random and from Yours Truely. Have Fun.

People I Know

Mom: "So how's your love life doing?"
Me: "No change, nonexistent."
Mom: "Well how are you besides that? Are you healthy?"
Me: "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
Mom: "Well I'm a mother, I'm supposed to ask these things. Here's your father."
Dad: "I ask the important questions. Your dick didn't fall off, did it?"

"I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss from her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it. One" - My Bro, awe yeah, now that's a Capristo. I couldn't agree more.

2pm Thursday

“Time to wake up Tony.”

“Ehhh, wake me up in the afternoon.”

“It is the afternoon.”

”frank u need a new profile now that u in Germany. something like "my boner is in Germany" that says it all to me :)” Orrin

“hell yeah i'll take you home you sexy beast!” - Josh

“You’re a sick man Capristo” Pete

There's no reason we need to be shackled by the strictures of our relationship. Unless you're into that sort of thing. In which case, I got some shackles in the back. – Tony

“ I want that picture! If anyone ever wanted to know about you I want to show them that picture and be like that was Frank! Hey, here's my jump drive put it on that!” - Muchard

“i am definitely capristo live's biggest fan:-D” – Erika S.

“Spend a night with him. Give him a chance and you won’t be a lesbian in the morning” – Tony, trying to help a brother out.

“Drive 90 and swerve a lot” – Paul Kiebler

“Your brother misunderstood me. I said I had a lot of sex in my 20’s, not that I had sex with a lot of women.” The Old Man - Tony’s done both.

"Hey pertty boy, who's this one, she's different from the one you were with last night."

"Kallie, gee tony, I don't think you've ever had a K before." – John S.

“he's got a lewd mind that suits your Capristoness well.” – John I.

“Have you grown the annual Capristo/lumberjack winter beard yet?” - Muchard

"There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum. It's breathtaking, I suggest you try it." - Tony

Don't settle for the one you can live with, wait for the one you can't live without. - the kid sis

“Argh, can you come home? i miss you! i saw tony for a little bit last night and made me wish i'd seen you before you gone and left me! *lol* No, not fucking funny...i'm not laughing here asshole! :-P (reading)The watermelon runs are as legendary as the land speed record between Utica and Crumhorn Mnt at scout camp. LMAO!!!! i love you man haha... those were the days! LOL, i can't stop laughing! Lol” Josh – aka Yoshi Glad you like it man. I miss you too.

“It’s ok. I don’t need to stand behind a shield. I’ll just stand behind a co-op. They’re expendable.” - Richard

“This co-op, he just sits there doing work all day long not bothering anyone. He must be defective. Is there a return policy, can we send him back and get another one?” – Lee

“I have been working more than a few frank-late nights a week over here trying to keep up with processing images.” - Muchard

“Do we have all the co-op’s? Yep they’re all here. Collect all 5.” - Someone in VR3

“Anyone who has the guts to autocross a Plymouth Breeze (and bare the snickering of the locals) will go far in life.” - Lee

“Frank, you're a peach!

*I'm a what?*

You're a peach.” – Joan -and I was that close to quoting Face Off

“have a great night, sleep tight, don't let the hookers bite…too hard” – Erika Z

“ I was just here watching the rain when the movie "Eurotrip" came on and since I had never seen the beginning I thought I'd catch-up. Good thing too since I'd missed the scene where he gets the topless girl in the hot-tub to rub her boob. Did I ever tell you that 20 something year old boobs are just the best, welll take my word for it, they're a lot like beer. Really, until a beer is properly aged it tastes like crap, and when it gets too old it tastes worse, if it got better they'd have beer cellars like they do for wine. So it's best to enjoy boobs at their peek, which is to say usually twenty something.” The Old Man

Conversation with Cute Waitress:
CW to my old man: Don't you like your cookies?
Old Man: Yeah, I'm going to take them home for a midnight snack.
CW: Well you'll have to stop and get some milk too. Then you can have milk and cookies.

Old Man: I'll leave the door ajar if she'll bring the milk. Don't worry Dale (mom), it's just the milkman.....

Would you hold it against me if I told you you had a beautiful body? – Camp Staff

I wear my pink pajamas in the summer when it's hot. I wear my flannel nighties in the winter when it's not. And sometimes in the springtime but for often in the fall, I jump right in between the sheets with nothing on at all. – Camp Song

“Do you believe in the hereafter, then you know what I’m here after.” – Old TV show

Famous People

Character is higher than intellect. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see. ~Henry David Thoreau

I am different from Washington; I have a higher, grander standard of principle. Washington could not lie. I can lie, but I won't. ~Mark Twain

What counts is not necessarily the size of the dog in the fight - it's the size of the fight in the dog. ~Dwight Eisenhower

The human spirit is stronger than anything that can happen to it. ~C.C. Scott

I can live for two months on a good compliment. ~Mark Twain

Of course there's a lot of knowledge in universities: the freshmen bring a little in; the seniors don't take much away, so knowledge sort of accumulates. ~Abbott Lawrence Lowell

College is the best time of your life. When else are your parents going to spend several thousand dollars a year just for you to go to a strange town and get drunk every night? ~David Wood

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

What a man thinks of himself, that it is which determines, or rather indicates his fate. ~Henry David Thoreau

I drive way too fast to worry about cholesterol. ~Author Unknown

"The Best educated human being is the one who understands most about the life in which he is placed." Helen Keller

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat." Teddy Roosevelt

you must learn to play by the rules, then you must forget the rules and play from your heart. - Unknown

"The brave dies perhaps two thousand deaths if he's intelligent. He simply doesn't mention them." Hemingway

I never graduated from Iowa, but I was only there for two terms - Truman's and Eisenhower's. ~Alex Karras

A good leader is a person who takes a little more than his share of the blame and a little less than his share of the credit. ~John C. Maxwell

In certain trying circumstances, urgent circumstances, desperate circumstances, profanity furnishes a relief denied even to prayer. ~Mark Twain

At no time is freedom of speech more precious than when a man hits his thumb with a hammer. ~Marshall Lumsden

Kissing is like drinking salted water. You drink, and your thirst increases. ~Chinese Proverb

Her kisses left something to be desired... the rest of her. ~Author Unknown

A kiss is the upper persuasion for a lower invasion. ~Author Unknown

A man's kiss is his signature. ~Mae West

I wasn't kissing her, I was whispering in her mouth. ~Chico Marx

A thousand men can't undress a naked man. ~Greek Proverb

There is magic in long-distance friendships. They let you relate to other human beings in a way that goes beyond being physically together and is often more profound. ~Diana Cortes

Movie Quotes

“There's no gene for fate.

We have to get drunk immediately. You want to know how I did it? This is how I did it, Anton: I never saved anything for the swim back. There's more vodka in this piss than there is piss.

It was the moment that made the rest possible” - Gattaca

“Get busy living, or get busy dying. ...I hope to see my friend and shake his hand... I hope the pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams... I hope...

I must admit I didn't think much of Andy first time I laid eyes on him; looked like a stiff breeze would blow him over. That was my first impression of the man.

Remember, Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies. " The Shawshank Redemption

“What we do in life echoes in eternity. Strength and honor.” Gladiator

”I did it! I did it! I am a wild success! I sold 'em all, all my paintings. You don't have to be embarrassed by me anymore, I'm rich! Isn't that what you wanted, aren't we happy now.
The night all of my dreams came true, and like all happy endings,It was a tragedy, Of my device, for I succeeded.”
"what color it may be in memory depends on the day." Great Expectations

*thinking about his ex* "It would be nice to think that since I was 14, times have changed. Relationships have become more sophisticated. Females less cruel. Skins thicker. Instincts more developed. But there seems to be an element of that afternoon in everything that's happened to me since. All my romantic stories are a scrambled version of that first one. "

"You are as abandoned and noisy as any character in a porn film, Laura. You are Ian's plaything, responding to his touch with shrieks of orgasmic delight. No woman in the history of the world is having better sex than sex you are having with Ian... in my head. "

"Jon Dillinger was killed behind that theater in a hale of FBI gunfire. And do you know who tipped them off? His fucking girlfriend. All he wanted to do was go to the movies."

*Thinking back on an ex from high school* "Sometimes I got so bored of trying to touch her breast that I would try to touch her between her legs. It was like trying to borrow a dollar, getting turned down, and asking for 50 grand instead."

High Fidelity

“Stephen: [Speaking heavenward] Him? That can't be William Wallace. I'm prettier than this man. All right Father, I'll ask him.
Stephen: [to William] If I risk my neck for you, will I get a chance to kill Englishmen?
Hamish: Is your father a ghost, or do you converse with the Almighty?
Stephen: In order to find his equal, an Irishman is forced to talk to God.
Stephen: [Heavenward] Yes, Father.
Stephen: [to William and the others] The Almighty says don't change the subject; just answer the fucking question.

Hamish: Some men are longer than others.
Campbell: Your mother's been telling stories about me again, ah?

Stephen: [to William Wallace] The Almighty tells me he can get me out of this mess, but he's pretty sure you're fucked.

Every man dies, not every man really lives.” – Braveheart

You're forgeting one thing mate, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow.

Will Turner: This is either madness... or brilliance.
Jack Sparrow: It's remarkable how often those two traits coincide.

Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate. – Pirates of the Carribean

“Dynamite? It's like wine, it only gets better with age.” – Last of the Dogmen

“Cora Munro: What are you looking at, sir?
Hawkeye: I'm looking at you, miss.

Jack Winthrop: You're not coming with us?
Hawkeye: I've got a reason to stay.
Jack Winthrop: That reason wear a striped skirt and work in the surgery?
Hawkeye: It does. No offense, but it's a better looking reason than you, Jack Winthrop.

Cora Munro: They're going to hang you. Why didn't you leave when you had the chance?
Hawkeye: Because what I'm interested in is right here.” – Last of the Mohicans

“Mrs. Fenty: You should read the Bible, Mr. Rumson.
Ben Rumson: I have read the Bible, Mrs. Fenty.
Mrs. Fenty: Didn't that discourage you about drinking?
Ben Rumson: No, but it sure killed my appetite for readin'!” – Paint Your Wagon

"Name one thing you're going to need that stupid fuckin rope for" - Boondock Saints

“Sure. But now he's going to be a marshal and an outlaw. Best of both worlds, son.” Wyatt Earp

“Van: I was scared that you wouldn't come.

Gwen: Well I was trying to decide what panties I should wear.

Van: Which ones did you choose?

Gwen: None” – Van Wilder

“Mitch: The weirdest thing just happened to me.
Chris Knight: Was it a dream where you were where you see yourself standing in sort of sun-god robes on a pyramid, with a thousand naked women screaming and throwing little pickles at you?
Mitch: No...
Chris Knight: Why, am I the only one who has that dream?” – Real Genius

Random Stuff

“This is Al Sleet, your hippy-dippy weatherman. Our Eagle-Eye Weather Radar shows a line of squalls coming in over the Canadian border. Our Eagle-Eye Weather Radar also shows a line of Russian ICBM's coming in over the Canadian border, so if I were you, I wouldn't sweat the squalls.

Weather forcast for tonight: dark. Continued dark overnight, with widely scattered light by morning.” © George Carlin

"Your girlfriend is on my buddylist" – Unknown

"My daddy used to spank my bare bottom. Now he's gone. Will you take his place?" - Unknown

My Quotes

“The end is only the beginning, here's to something new.” - Me

“But to this I say live by the moments. Every moment is the one that makes the rest possible. Now is forever. From riddle to rhyme, this is the time. Let it all be said, let the cards fall, let the passion drive you.” me

”Das Beste was ich je gemacht habe, war dir den ersten Brief schreiben.” Me

“Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies, but all you'll need, is to look into my eyes.” – me

“The poet writes and dreams on, and I still feel like nothing is good enough. But you have to know when to say F it. All the wiser, but never wise enough. I learn, but I'll never know enough. So here I stand, unchained, unbroken, going further, pushing harder. Taking no road, but blazing my own.” – me

“Sometimes, the best thing is to suck it up and do what no one else recommends, to go against the grain, cause you know it's the right thing in your heart.” - me

“A day without coffee is like a day without sex.” me

“Women are like beds, when you're in the market for one, you just want to jump on all of them. When you finally have one, you end up sleeping on the couch.” – me

“It's hard to believe the chapter is coming to a close. 5 years, and this is where I end up? I can't say that it was all I expected, because I walked into it like I do everything, willing to accpet it as it comes. In that, I have found a lifetime of existence, about 1/5 of my lifetime's, well, to date anyway. I've made some of the best friends, you know who you are, I've raced, traveled to far away lands, gotten numerous tickets, loved, drank (usually in that order) and much more. The memories are too many, but it's been orgasmic.” Me

“I plan this thing for weeks and all he's going to do is stay home and go drinking with his boys. I tell you it's not like me, I'm depressed. But not for long. Baileypalooza / Franktoberfest is almost underway.” - me

“I guess sometimes it's best when you say what you want and not care what others think.” – me

“Because I didn't do it just for me. I did it for us, for everyone. For everyone who has ever believed in me, or thought I could go somewhere. For the people too timid to chase their own dreams or go where they've never gone before, this is just a little insperation to ya. We all have a certain amount of time on this earth. Make it count, to yourself and those closest to you.” me

“Maybe you don't know what I mean, but I do enjoy being obscene. Nice guys finish last, but we do finish, we always finish.” – me

"Monday, I love Monday, I got the whole week to look forward to. Who knows what the tide my bring." - Yours Truely

World Cup Soccer Slogan "My game is fair play"
Frank's Version "If she's fair game, I'll play!"
-Do Note the double mean of fair game

Something Serious

2005-11-02T23:22:00.007+01:00

24.06.07 Education.

These days you hear a lot about education. Monkey boy himself started the no child left behind policy, but what are we really doing? If you ask me, it’s the fundamentals of our governing body that are killing the educational systems. The SAT’s and ACT’s are national standards. You have the FCC, ATF, FDA. 200 years ago, state’s rights was a different issue. Today, as the world globalizes, the politics of states rights are what is really holding things back, and that is the tip of a deeper ice berg.

The USA is a regional place. Each has evolved over different time periods, had different experiences and as such, is home to different kinds of people. But extrapolate this to the world scene and you see that the world has every right to be laughing at a lot of our ignorance.

Is it called the civil war, or the war of northern aggression? If we still have to ask that question, and cannot see past that, to why the war was really fought, then we are dead from the start. Equally, if not more concerning, is teaching about evolutionism vs creationism. Can we please separate church and state? Can we please accept new concepts and ideas, and leave insecurity behind? The creationists don’t get much credit from me. If we lived by their lead, the world would still be square in the middle of the geocentric model of the universe. So let’s stop with the bull, realize that some stuff is dust in the wind. Let’s focus on what we know, based on the evidence we have and try to build on that. If you want to stay and think the way people though in the stone age, move to a cave, make your clothes from animal skins and let me know when you finally see the light.

I don’t believe in mainstreaming either, certainly not for mental disorders. Personally, I might like to push for tracking students by three some what distinct groups; 1. mentally challenged (i.e. retarded), 2. ADD and slow learners and 3. hardcore learners. Let’s not bullshit ourselves, at the very least, there are those 3. When you mix them, you slow everyone down. There are too many disruptions and everyone looses, except certain kids parents who feel like their kid is getting equal treatment, while robbing other youngsters of a decent education. Note, feel. Each group has their own needs. Just like shoes, one size does not fit all.

When properly funded, all groups can receive “equal” treatment. Still, the slow learner will probably not become the next Einstein. The future for the mentally handicapped is probably the same, no matter what. One of the biggest problems education faces, is parents dreams exceeding what is possible from their kids. Furthermore, no one ever thinks to ask the kid if it is really what he/she wants. In all reality, the kid won’t know that till further down the road. Maybe the kid won’t ever know.

It is somewhat a chicken vs. the egg dilemma. If I knew at age 20 that I would have liked to have been a Formula 1 driver, but that the only way in this day in age, was to start driving carts at age 8, well, I missed the boat. But just like John Belushi in that film where he hits the home run, maybe that’s not really would have been the best. If I look back on what my life has been, the experiences I’ve had, I can’t even begin to knock what I’ve had. Being a race car driver would have surely presented its own experiences, and worthy ones to discuss at that, but there is no better between the two.

Back to education, to truly be successful, the content needs to be the focus, and the tests standardized to reflect the content, not the other way around. The test material should not be the limiting factor in the material covered. Now, the same trend is happening in the engineering world. Quality standards and what not are now breaking down projects so specifically that you can barely wipe your ass without the timeline telling you you can. What is one result of this? A whole lot more paperwork and documentation. This way, it is possible to trace a fault, when there is one, and make sure faults are caught early while they are still relatively cheaper to repair. Still, while check lists help ensure things are not overlooked, they are not a bible to replace good engineering common sense. There is no Engineers Book for Dummies. Furthermore, this work still needs to be performed, which requires more capital.

I believe the same is true for education, but it is good for nothing if we are not all using the same system of comparison. In engineering you always specify units, or else you have a wonderful Mars Lander event. Look at it this way, if I tell you it’s 32 degrees out, most will run for their winter coats and boots, a few will put on their wife beater, a pair of shorts and Birkenstocks. Fahrenheit or Celsius? Maybe they’re both wrong cause I’m talking in Kelvin and we’re in the middle of a nuclear winter.

The Japanese might rank pretty high up on the education list, but turn to page two and look at the suicide rate. That’s like little Bill Gates being excellent in math, but he can’t interact with his classmates worth a damn. When he gets to adolescence, he’s not going to know how to interact with women, but he will go on to create Microsoft because he was too sexually frustrated to do anything else. Maybe he gets even in the end with all the hookers money can buy, but would you want that for yourself? It’s tempting, isn’t it.

The Germans, in 4^th grade you get to find out if you’re going to go pick grapes, be a welder, or become a doctor for the rest of your life. Ok, it’s not quite that strict, and there are many ways to work yourself up the ladder and chances to further educate yourself when you are ready to take the next step. But you are broken out onto your path long before you enter high school.

And the USA, educate everyone, although some will go to BOCES occupational schools for part of the time, and are expected to be on the same level as the kids who aren’t. Furthermore, it is expected of them to be on the same level as the near suicide kids in Japan, and compare 1 to 1 to Germany’s best and brightest because the “lesser” mortals have been skimmed off. Nope, it doesn’t match up, and it shouldn’t.

You’ll never be able to give all intellectual levels the same chance. It’s idealistic and nice, but just not reasonable. I’m all for helping bring those at the bottom up to a level, where they might become self sufficient, but in the grand scheme of things, you unfortunately have to make a business case out of it. The tax base is not an endless supply of capital, and so you kinda have to rate how much the investment now will be returned by less state involvement later on. Is it too cold? Tell that to the guys at the bottom of the tax base trying to make ends meet, and hope their average kid might have a chance to get into college if proper funding can be secured.

On the world stage, the push is to make college level degrees comparable. If you graduate from college in Italy, you get your doctor title with your BS. Hmm. In Germany, it used to be, up until recently, that your “Diploma” degree from the university was somewhere between a BS and MS, requiring a paper to be written there, but not as intense as a Masters program. Germany, in the mean time has adopted the BS-MS system and started implementing it.

Some in Germany strongly feel this is a step backwards, and the new BS grad’s are considered to be second rate graduates, but it will level out. Depending on what field it is, one thing remains all important, experience. Theory is fine, but using it is something completely different. It takes a good 2 years of experience for a fresh engineer with no experience to get weathered. Schools with co-op programs may include an extra years worth of enrollment, but certainly give that student an edge. Not only is the break in time shorter, the understanding of different disciplines and company structures greater, but a direct link between classroom and application is established.

Not to mention there exists different caliber students. You can have an A student and a B student, and if you were to test each again, 1 year later, you might be surprised. It is not always the case, but many students learn for the tests and then have a blue screen moment, memory dump. Whereby the B student might remember that 80 or 85 percent of the material covered, and be more valuable than Mr. GPA. It’s a point to consider, at any level.

I draw on what I heard from a manager once. His engineers and co-op’s were more productive than the Dr. and PhD’s of his peer. I’ve seen this myself too. You get some engineer who can quote you formulas non stop, but doesn’t understand the physical limitations and/or interactions of what he/she is talking about. It all boils down to understanding the relationship between theory and practice, but this is easier said than understood.

In the grand scheme of things, there will always be a certain group of people who cannot take care of or think for themselves. There will always be those who are laborers, and perform physical and basic work in the world. There will be those who are the next step or two up, and have a form of higher education, and there will be those who will be seen as genius intellects. How should each be rewarded for their work and contribution to society? Pure communism is just as unrealistic and unfair as pure capitalism. In the end, we need to be wary of the difference between idealism and reality. We need to create justifiable standards which show the true caliber of the person. There is more to education than the traditional subjects taught in school. In this day in age when morals and ethics do not even rank in the top 5 for importance, I wonder if any of it matters. Surely it matters to some though, and eventually the pendulum is bound to swing back. I only hope that it is not a perpetual cycle, and that sometime in the future the world will even out at a fair and sustainable level. Idealistic? Sure, but also possible.

14.06.2007 Relationships & Love, love and relationships.

They are separate things, but often we find ourselves stuck between them. I guess when it comes down to it, I have one thought, everyone should have their heart really truly broken at least once. It puts perspective on things. Of course some people get hit really hard by that kind of stuff, and that’s one reason people need to experience them.

Sure it’s hard. Things are seldom easy. The things that make you grow as a person seldom are without a little pain or are even rarer. The thing hardly anyone can ever remind themselves of, is that they had a life before, and they will again. For guys, it usually takes a night of all out drinking and then some. I refer to this as formatting the C drive. Women will call up their girlfriends and spend a night eating chocolate, a chick flick, or something like that.

As a guy, I find it’s best to avoid women at this point in time, and at least wait for them to hit that “I’m going out, getting drunk and maybe going home with some guy if my girlfriends let their guard down” state. Even then though, it’s a dangerous time. At any moment, she might flip out and loose it. All kidding aside, I’ve been a shoulder to cry on, and gone out with the intention to get completely obliterated myself. The only thing I ever get out of that, was that my body felt as bad as my heart, but that was the intention, right?

To be sure, there’s always that hole. There’s always the hollow empty feeling. There’s the feeling of rejection. And what can you do except tell yourself that it just wasn’t meant to be, and that your true love and soul mate must still be out there somewhere. At the other extreme, you spend your life between relationships never knowing or giving up. I won’t go as far to say that you become a hermit and die alone. At this day in age, especially with the internet, there is no shortage of mail order brides out there. If the warm body of another is comfort, there is Adult Friend Finder and the likes. In all honesty, they should legalize prostitution world wide. Then again, with things like AFF, who needs to go to a cat house?

Now I know you don’t need to take things quite so far. There are plenty of sites out there that will help you find that someone special. I suppose the good ones all charge money. They should call it eHandoveryourcreditcard. I dunno, I suppose there is a huge mass of people out there who want more to go on than the look of someone sipping on their drink at a bar. I think it would be easy if we all had our status in an easy to read fashion across our foreheads, but that would take some of the challenge out of it. So, as one of my co-workers referred to it, a little “online benchmarking” isn’t such a bad thing. I am partial to agree, it turns it into something a little like car shopping. You can go through your options list and see you’ve found. If you like what you see, you can initiate contact and maybe go out for a metaphorical test drive in the form of having coffee or something like that.

No matter how we each go about it, I suppose the rules of attraction are pretty much the same as they’ve always been. We are bound to the things that turn us on, to finding the right smile and the right form of understanding, the right bond or form of bondage. It’s an uncanny thing that belongs to human nature. And so for all the heart breaks and heart aches, and the moments that can only be described as perfect, I say, risk it all as long as it’s worth risking.

27.02.2008 Retiring the Breeze

So it is with sad regret that I would like to inform everyone that the Breeze has been retired. The old gal has over 180k miles on her, the number 3 cylinder is shot and it’s time to lay her to rest. Included is are my thoughts and memories of the car I knew and loved. We spent the better part of my college career together, and I will miss her deeply.

It all started back in ’99. I was driving the Lancer, a car we knew whose days were numbered. She was 13 by that time and up in the 130k miles range. I had been teaching Tony to drive since he turned 16 that February. Planning ahead with the foresight my father has always seemed to have, he was car shopping that summer for the Lancer replacement. I went and test drove a Neon at the dealership one rainy day with Tony. It was ok, but it wasn’t the Lancer. It was smaller, and didn’t have the pep the 2.2l Turbo had. Even with 130k and the second turbo, she still had enough torque for me to impress someone who had never ridden with me before.

Our goals were simple. We wanted something with 4 doors and stick shift, and not red or white in color. There might have been some other parameters. Cost was obviously a consideration. We were looking for a mopar, but it wasn’t necessarily a requirement. Dad wasn’t in any rush really. He was shopping around, looking at what was available, stroking the salesmen to keep an eye out for what we wanted.

Eventually, someone (namely himself, - so much for salesmen knowing what they have) turned up the Breeze, one of Chrysler’s cloud cars, scheduled to go to auction after having sat on the lot too long. She was 3 years old, with about 70k on her. 5 speed, 4 doors, dark green. A good looking machine, although the Stratus grill was more appealing to me. She had probably been a rental car, but being stick hadn’t really seen too much abuse. She was still really tight, and had a fairly short throw, especially compared to the Lancer.

But I wasn’t interested. The Lancer was still my gal. The Breeze was for Tony. The Lancer was really the only car I knew up until then, and we had already been through a lot together over the 30k miles I had put on her. I left to go to Germany for my exchange, expecting not to see the Lancer again. As fate would have it, Tony lost her on some ice, but didn’t have quite as much luck as I had had with my icecapades. She was still there when I came home, but only out in the field, undriveable.

Tony was still in high school, and I was going off to school. As part of the agreement, I wasn’t allowed to have a vehicle my first semester. Dad had his truck, mom was still driving the van and Tony needed the Breeze. I hitch hiked to and from school that year with friends. D-dog was also out there, and I’d get picked up from Bainbridge. Eventually I had the van out to school to move home with, but that was it. It must have been that fall when Tony needed something on the computer, drove out the Breeze and claimed it only took <2.5 style=""> Cruising at 75 mph on the thruway it took a good 3 hrs to cover the 200 mi. stretch.

My first real experience with the Breeze came that fist winter out at school though. Through complications with a snowstorm, my then girlfriend spent New Years down with me. We had gone in with Tony, but he was going to ride over to the party with Joe in his LTD. They lost us at a stoplight, and since we couldn’t reach them right away, I drove around town. What do you show a girl in a rinky dink town like Oneonta? I thought about it a minute and thought about the view up at Hartwick college. That must be nice. Nice, but I didn’t realize the college was closed. We had just gotten new rubber for her, and Tony said she would go anywhere. Almost. I didn’t quite make the hill, and being flustered, I got too close to the guard rail backing down. At 1 am on New Years, I was calling up the old man to beg for his assistance. Eventually, one of the grounds guys came and got me out, begrudgingly. He thought I was taking Marci up there to try and have sex with her. Guilty until proven innocent I guess. And that was how we really started off.

Tony was going off to school in Maine. It gave him the macho need for something with much more ground clearance and dad picked up the F150 for him in January, 2001. I received the van by default, but without any objections. I always maintained that until I bought my own set of wheels and paid my own insurance, I would take whatever I was given. Besides, at the end of the year I had to move back home. The van was the only thing that could carry that much for a one shot ordeal.

I didn’t know the car yet, but when I got invited out to Indianapolis for G’s high school graduation, the Breeze was the logical choice. We started out early that morning, had some weather till getting out past Rochester. It was pretty smooth sailing as we jammed to the cds I had with me. I only stopped once for gas. I had some Foties Bread from the local bakery and some lemon seltzer water I stole from mom. That was about all I consumed as we pushed through the 12 hr. ride out. I caught the Columbus rush hour traffic that we would later learn to avoid. That was tough, a few miles of stop and go until we could get around and back on the road again. It was a good time out there, and it was smooth sailing the whole way home in the bright June sun. It would not be our last trip out.

I was back up at camp that summer. My relationship with the Breeze had yet to blossom, as she was mostly used to shuttle the waterfront staff into O-town Wednesday nights on our nights off. The first trip we went on was out to RIT one weekend for the race car design meeting. I didn’t use the AC, and never ever really did. Didn’t want to steal the horsepower off her or pull the gas mileage down. She didn’t have foot vents like the Lancer either, pity. But there was the sunroof and the fan. I had the windows, but didn’t want to hurt the fuel mileage too much. She did about 5 mpg better than the Lancer, but also with about 25 hp less. No cruise control, just like the Lancer, but she held her own really nice through the back roads over to West Winfield. The old man always talked about using the gears in his cars when they didn’t have power. I applied this to the Breeze.

One highlight of the summer was when we ran out of watermelons for the water carnival. I was sent into town to get one so we could close out with the key event. I didn’t have a lot of seat time in her yet, but I knew her pretty well. We sprinted into town, getting up to about 105 mph and holding it for a short stretch before arriving at the next exit. We picked up the payload and made it back up to the hill after about 25 minutes time. Foolish? Perhaps, but my driving record was clean again and I was experienced enough to know how that game worked. If I calculated out what it would cost if I got nailed, and compared that to what Tony was costing, I was still the cheaper deal. I would do whatever I had to to have it my way.

I also got to know East River Road that summer. I was doing a little moonlighting in the evening, doing wallboard and painting. At night, the only real enemy were the deer. That wasn’t a road the cops ever really sat on, and the headlights always gave me enough time to slow my ass down before anyone had any time to bring the radar to bear on me. The thought of a deer cutting across always things suspenseful, but I didn’t care and usually pushed at 75 mph. There was a nice corner to come hot into, usually at better than 75, jump on the binders, down shift and put the hammer down coming back out. You had to watch the loose stone, but it was no big deal. When the corn was low enough, you could see through it before you got there and knew if you could take the ideal line through or not. It was a lot of fun. Fun I needed.

I have a fuzzy memory of how things worked out when I went to school in the fall of ’01. I think I took the Breeze out with the initial load, kayak on the roof and then took the van with the couch for the second run out. Dad was in the hospital for his second heart valve and I had the van for that. The van was practical with the middle seat out and the back seat moved up, especially till the race car shipped off to Australia and we where hauling cones and everything else down to the parking lot on a regular basis.

Still, it was nice to get the Breeze back and I’d run her over the back roads on the way home, stopping at grandma’s for a visit before tearing the back roads up. I got to know that stretch a bit that fall/winter/spring. I got to know the back loop at RIT too, making regular speed runs from the dorms over to the girlfriend’s place out in UC starting in Dec. ’01. I received one on campus ticket that spring. It would not be the last. Of course she was a real warrior that spring, bringing me dead tired out to and back from Buffalo on nights when I’d drive out to see my woman that semester. We’d head out in the dark after class at times only to come back again with the sun in our eyes the next am.

At some point, Noodles, Moshier at I piled in to go over to the McDonalds over on West Henrietta by Lehigh Station Rd. Moshier piped up and asked me why I was short shifting her all the time. I had to stretch her legs he said. Well, I was used to doing that on the back roads when I was alone, but he was right. Everything became stoplight grand prix after that.

Paulie got his Eagle Scout that spring, and I went home to see the ceremony. Well I was supposed to see it, and the gf was supposed to go with. When I swung by to pick her up, she was still in her pj’s. Fuck. She hadn’t showered or anything, and we got a late start, one I was going to try and make up. I played the rule of the blocker on the thruway, finding someone who thought the 80+ mph range was ok, much to the dismay of the one sitting in the passenger seat. I must have taken Rt. 28, cause there is less chance of getting stuck behind someone with plenty of places to pass. The woman wouldn’t have been able to handle the back roads either. Still, there were some. When I made the turn over by BOCES, I had slipped into the primitive animalistic hunter driving mode.

When I drive on the limit, I slip into the zone. My brain devotes its full attention to processing everything the eyes throw at it, the ears tune everything out except for the sound of the motor and the tires. My right foot becomes ultra sensitive to the pressure on the gas and brake, coordinating with the hands on the wheel, while the left foot is timed with the right hand to provide smooth shifts. I was booking at 40 or so, about to take the 90 degree at the T. You can see if there’s any traffic there too, and there wasn’t. There was a little gravel though that I had spotted. Ok, swing out to the left a little, and take the ideal line through it. It meant the Breeze drifting on all 4 through it, before hooking back up with me on the throttle through it. She never changed her yaw through it, it was just right. Of course there was a lot of screaming going on and all I could do was laugh out of enjoyment. We caught the end of the ceremony, and someone wasn’t happy with me, but I was happy with the Breeze.

4 of us piled in to her to go out to Detroit that May in ’02. Part way through Canada, we had to leave the Queens Highway on a small detour. Well, I must have picked up a slow leak in the rear right, cause a few miles down the road, she blew out. Toasted, the tire was smoking and the sidewall looked like someone had taken a can opener to it. The antiroll bar must have been working pretty well to keep her balanced, cause I never noticed till it was too late.

The brilliance of my father is that he always gets a full size spare. We did it pit crew style. Star wrench out and one guy breaking the lug nuts, 3 guys unpacking our bags, then one on the jack while we pulled the spare out, fully inflated. We were back on the road in a good 10-15 minutes tops.

The Breeze had good brakes, and it was a good thing because a guy came whizzing through an intersection in a 40 zone at 75 or so. One minute the coast was clear, the next minute he was flying by on the brink of loosing control. If I hadn’t had a stick I might have been too far out, and too late. Of course that wasn’t enough to keep me from getting a speeding ticket 15 minutes into my 21^st. Well, I came out of the Silverdome after working on the car late, and decided to treat myself to a little acceleration run up to the little knoll before the stoplight. I think I peaked at about 72 mph. Wouldn’t you know it, the under cover cops were out that night and she caught up to me right before I was in the hotel parking lot. I guess I woulda been better off if I had gone out drinking, then I wouldn’t have been driving.

She moved a mess of stuff home at the end of the year. Tony had come out and helped with the couch. She was home for 3 weeks while I was in Germany. When I came back, it would be the start of one of our most trying times ever. My girlfriend had cheated on and broken up with me. I was heart broken and I was trying to shrug it off and deny it. At least I still had one girl who was faithful to me. The Breeze and I tore it up as much as it could be that summer. I was back at camp and any time I left the mountain, it was in a hurry.

There was one Wednesday afternoon when we were scheduled to clean the showers and latrines. Just up behind the dinning hall, Josh remembered I had my appointment for my wisdom teeth appraisal. Shit, I had forgotten all about that. I ran, jumped in and took off. We hit 90 on the little level stretch on the Maryland side of the mountain as I made it down on to Rt. 7. Again, 90 for a few seconds on the straight stretch past McAdams. I shot the dip at about 75 mph, but she always held that through there. The stretch into Oneonta was one I had made hundreds of times, and up until the point where I got too uneasy, I used to push certain spots. The main place to push her was on the circular on-off ramps, till the tires started to cry in agony. You could push and balance her with the throttle at that point, and it was a great way to learn her balance without going too fast. Needless to say, I made it to my appointment on time.

That summer was the watermelon run part deux. I swore every time I left the hill I was in for a ticket. It was only a matter of time and I knew it. But first we’d set the great Utica-Blockbuster to Crumhorn Mt. – Scout Camp Speed Run. We had been up at the waterfront director’s for the weekend for our annual weekend at his camp, thank you for a great summer watch movies and jump off the bridge fest.

We offered to drop the movie off. It was the summer I had my one mix cd of Billy Joel, Pink Floyd and other classics that Orrin liked to jam to. I always used to rock my hips back and forth in a sexual fashion to Another Brick… I still do. That day would be its own semisexual experience as Orrin wanted to see how fast we could make it back to Camp. I asked Josh if he thought he could handle it and got the nod. The tunes were going, but I had them dialed down. I needed to hear her, every whisper, every note. It was the stretch I had been practicing for almost a year.

We rocketed down the roads. She was in good form. They were doing the one bridge and I had to go a little further down Rt. 51, that was going to cost time, precious time, time I was going to have to make up. And we did. It was probably one of the peak points of driving her. We made it back in good time. I don’t remember exactly how long, but we were back way ahead of the other group. I think it was something like 40 minutes on a trip that normally takes about an hour.

Tony was living with Joe on Cherry Street that summer. The one night someone was up visiting on a night I was in to visit. Well, I was in no mood to drink and had to go back at some point anyway, so I drove. Again, it was one of those nights where it would have been better off if I had been drinking and thus not driving. On the way of taking a couple people back to the apartment, I decided to have a little fun. I wasn’t driving too much like a candy ass, but it was enough to catch the eyes of the local cops. I never saw them, and I would have noticed their lights, but they swore I was trying to outrun them. BS. Anyway, they nailed me for failure to signal and improper turn.

Kiss my ass, I was well within the limits of everything. Those were bogus tickets for them getting a DD but not a DD in the drunk driver sense. For all the crap driving I’ve seen out there, me getting busted for being such a proficient driver hardly seems fair, but that’s life.

It was good though, it slowed me back down a little till I took the van back out that fall quarter to move into the Formula 161a Perkins Apartment. I’d trade the van for my ’85 Lancer I had bought that summer, but she dropped out with tranny issues that December. Soon it was back to the Breeze.

I was brake group leader that year, and on co-op that winter quarter living back home. Mornings I’d go take I-88 down to Sidney, back at night. Arrive in the dark, come home in the dark, weekends I’d head out to school after work on Friday to go work on the race car. We went through 10 weeks of that. I experienced every bit of winter driving that quarter. We stopped the one morning after the girl lost her new Liberty on an icy bridge, we braved white out conditions and lead traffic on the thruway. We got blown sideways on top of Vickerman Hill on Rt. 28 at 30 mph with snow banks over 20 ft. high. It was a real winter. One night we were trying to come up over Crumhorn in about 4 inches of snow and only made it up half way. Even in the spring storms, or days when the thruway was a set of parallel tracks, we had to play the game of slide in lane hopping. She’d romp through the mush till she hooked up in the clear patches again.

The best that winter was the night it took us 5 hours to get out to school though. Up by Syracuse, we hit pure white out conditions. The truckers were stopped along side the road, and there was a lot of traffic just sitting in the right. I looked out to the left and could see the snow bank on the left of the outer lane. In the glow of my low beams, I could see more there than I could straight ahead. So I pulled into the left lane, and started nursing along at 5-10 mph, using my distance from the bank as a guideline and watching for someone sitting in front of me straight ahead. It paid off, and I lead a line of traffic out of it where it finally cleared up between exit 44 and 45. It was still murder going through 4-6 inches of the white stuff and made it to the shop somewhere around 10:30.

I co-op’ed on campus spring ‘02. We went down to BW3’s in the ice storm people were so afraid to go out in. Bah. I had the whole loop at RIT down pat. Once in a great while, there would be a convoy of us, but I was never a big fan of horsing it when it was like that. Too much testosterone, too much to go wrong. I was more of a one man show, my girl and me. As much as I pushed it with people in the car, it was always different from when I was alone. I never tried setting the limits when others were with me. One of my favorite things was to do the stretch to and from the shop. There was a nice straight stretch down past the apartments that T’ed in leading into a nice sweeper. Down at the other end, there was another 90, and a tight S on a slope. We got a lot of practice doing that or going down through the S, making the turn towards the front circle, blasting down the straight before slowing down to enter the circle before getting her set to ride around the 180 bowl. Coming out it was a straight shot down to the stop sign. That was life. Co-op by day, workout and dinner afterwards, race car till it was time for a few minutes of sleep and repeat.

We’d go down to Letchworth State Park around the time of my birthday with a car load. There was a trip home and back one of those weekends. The Breeze got to meet its newer cousin, the 2002 Stratus RT. I got to find out about something Joe had always talked about. Joe always wanted an automatic. He was afraid a stick shift car would prevent him from doing some of the things the bench seat of the LTD had to offer. “Hold on, I have to shift.” Not the case at all, and if you were on a nice stretch of road, without too many bumps, it was not a big deal. On the thruway, you just had to make sure there weren’t any truckers or minivans with small children passing by….

I ended up making a road trip down into PA that summer. It wasn’t the first time. Tony and I had gone down to look at a Shelby Lancer shell that never worked out back in the summer of ’01. This time, two years later, it was to see about a girl. It was the first week of classes, and the lab, my only class that day, had been canceled. As said in Animal House, “Road Trip.” I went down and back in a day. I’d go down once more a month later. I’m pretty sure it was the Breeze I was in the one night that summer, when I was making a speed run down to the apartment and came across the rent-a-cop sitting there.

I was already doing 40 or better when I saw him. I knew they liked to sit there, and I was usually pretty good at spotting them in time. This night and this time though, I had already committed. I knew he had me and started to lift, but then mashed the pedal down and kept going. I could hit about 70 before breaking to turn into the parking lot. This time I didn’t start breaking till about the turn. I went the little bit to the intersection, made the turn and was off campus before he could even hit the lights and come after me. The rule is, they’re not allowed to follow you off campus. Thank god Weber had filled me in on that little bit. The formula team had all sorts of experience with Campus Safety. Some of it was better than others. I had my own experiences over my tenure there.

That summer was great. I had the apartment to myself most of the time. A couple of the guys were around and we did a lot of barbecuing and driving.

The campus and greater Rochester area was my race track. I didn’t mind the occasional on campus ticket. The way I saw it, my RIT presidential scholarship was paying for it. I’m sure my parents didn’t see it that way, but hey, you can’t please everyone. I was still under caution after my 92 on the thruway the previous December, and had to take it easy off campus though. It got so I had to go to Herkimer and take Rt. 28 down just to discipline myself. I got really good at driving late at night around campus. It was a good summer.

I don’t remember anything too special going on in the fall of ’03. I was still out in 161a, doing the formula thing. It was always interesting switching between the two vehicles. All of the sudden, the brake pedal felt a mushy, there was no acceleration, but plenty of body roll. Well, that’s the difference, but you don’t drive a race car on roads with potholes measured in inches either. Tubenut was ridding with me back up after we were out driving one day and commented on my driving skill of not reving it all the way up to redline like some did. Well, I knew my girl, knew where her range was and shifted accordingly.

That winter after a very successful trip to Australia, I started co-oping at Bausch & Lomb. The Breeze and I had already gotten a lot of winter experience the previous winter, and it probably saved our asses more than once. Since I was out on campus that winter, co-op by day and formula by night, I was around to take advantage of the empty snowy parking lots the school had to offer for entertainment. Most of the time I was alone when I was practicing inducing and recovering from slides.

I wasn’t one of the idiots who got going full speed and spun it around a few times for kicks. It was all about building skill and I used to leave when those bozos would show up. There were a couple nights when I went out with a couple guys on the team that I had some trust in. I never used the hand/parking brake to induce them. I either wagged her back and forth till she broke loose or combined it with a little bit of braking to make her snap. The one treat I did allow us, was once in a while going backwards at a little speed, cranking the wheel, letting her come around while shifting into first, catching her and continuing in the direction we were going in. I used to do that with my RC car back in the day too.

I moved out of 161a that Feb. and down to Scottsville. In the cold mornings, I’d make the trip up to work. It was quite dangerous in winter. Right after getting on 390, I had to cut across to make sure I was in the group staying on for 590. In the morning traffic and winter conditions, this could be quite tricky. Winter turned to spring. In the mornings, I’d shoot up to 390, 390 to 590 and 590 to B&L, in the evenings back down before going up to the shop to work on the formula car.

That summer would be one of my finest and the Breeze was with me the whole way through it. With renewed traction came renewed ram roding around. I was in class and RIT was still my race track. I’d get up in the morning, make my thermos of coffee, as I had been since winter and head out the door. I was still working 20-25 hrs. a day at B&L in addition to 20 hrs of class and about another 20 hrs of homework/labs and crap. I went home a few times and while my sister hadn’t quite turned 16 yet, we went out on Loft Rd. to do a little learning.

As a Capristo, it was practically law that she learn to drive stick. She stalled the car out so bad the one time, it tripped the airbag sensor and we had to call it a day. I cleared the fault by disconnecting the battery and hoped the airbag wouldn’t go off unless I needed it to. Luckily it never did and I never needed it to. We had a good summer, but at 8, she was starting to make her age a little known.

That fall we made our way out to Ohio. As always, she was filled to the brim in the move. We made good time and good mileage going out. A couple weeks later we drove back for the vintage weekend at Watkins Glen. Dad and Tony came out in the van. It was the year of the green cars.

A few weeks later we’d make a run back to Rochester, and then again in November when it was time to look at apartments. There was the standard trip over to the ATM, which was about 15 miles out, across back country roads. It wasn’t quite as much fun as the NY roads, because the roads where straighter with little elevation change, but there were a few that weren’t bad. Most of the time we made trips into Columbus to go do our weekly climbing. We had an autocrossing experience together, and had some fun, but not as much as on the back roads.

Returning one such night, the roads were wet, but it had stopped raining. I figured I could still take the on-off-on S-ramp at about 75 mph / 120 kmh. The limit was more like 72. About ¾’s the way through the corner, I felt the back end start to step out. I corrected, but at that speed and momentum, she was going to come around. I knew this from driving the formula car. I turned us into the spin, watching the rough grass and bush line pass by. After coming around towards 180, I started to turn the wheel back. She came around 270 and I hoped I’d catch her by the time we got back to 0, but she wasn’t done. I had to turn back into it and saw the grass and bushes passing by a second time. I was certain we were going to end up down there this time and was contemplating what the tow truck driver would say and how much damage she’d have. We got back around to 180 for the second time and there was a car off in the distance approaching. I turned the wheel back and we came past 270 again, by the time we were almost back in the direction we had been heading in when she caught herself. I’d say we were about 30 degrees short of a full 720, still on the road after having spun through the rest of the corner onto the short straight.

I had put the clutch in and the engine had stayed running the whole time. I gave her some gentle left and right turns through the wheel. She felt fine and we were now down to 20 mph, so I shifted into 2^nd and we drove home. While I had been going too fast, I also felt it was time for her suspension to get a little rework.

I ordered a full set of Eibach springs and a set of struts to go with them. The guy working Advanced (Auto) pronounced it Eee-bach instead of I-bach. Guess he doesn’t have any German ancestors. It was a week or so before it all came in. Paul said he would help me do it and one night after work, we went at it. The springs were supposed to lower her, but I didn’t notice much of a difference. Anyway, we gave her an alignment and you could feel the difference.

Before I was going to leave Ohio, I promised myself that the Breeze and I would do the 555. I had been down it riding shotgun with Chris, now I wanted a taste of it with my hands on the wheel. The gang was up for the chance to go out and do some driving before the winter weather set in, so we all went out. James in his V8-BGT, Kyle in the Lexus S300 that he had tweaked, Nick in his Jetta, my roomie in Accord and I of course in the Breeze.

James went out in lead and Kyle gave chase. I was pushing hard to stay with them, but overheated the brakes on the Breeze in the first stint. Later, Nick would tell me the left front was smoking when I let him by. I thought we were in for that the whole day, but never had any more problems. I guess it was just outgasing, it certainly wasn’t that I stopped pushing. I stayed with those guys pretty good the whole time. The fun part was, the Breeze and I had to take it a lot closer to the limit with those guys to stay with them. Good times.

We went back home for Thanksgiving and I’d move out to Park Ave using the van. I’d switch back again around Christmas. It was more of the same, the cold harsh winter in Rochester that we had both come to know together.

Grandma had gotten lung cancer, and at the end of January, we all got together one night. The weather decided it was going to throw everything it had at us though. I think the first flake started falling around 10 or 11, and it would be steady for over the next 12 hours. Tony was going up in his Dakota, but I was taking everyone else in the Breeze.

Going up was interesting enough, but it was still somewhat light out, even if it was more white than anything else. The trucks were out on top of it, but it was still falling pretty fast. By the time we got up to Illion around 2 or 3, the roads were sporting 3-4 inches. Uncle Bob was somewhat surprised to see us and didn’t know if we’d be able to make it. Hell yeah, of course. My winter driving had come a long way since I had gotten stuck that one New Years.

We went to dinner, the whole lot of us, and then over to the place they were keeping her. We had some cake and said what we all figured would be our good byes. It seemed much later, being winter and all, but we probably got started back around 7. Everything was the fuzzy glowing orange that falling snow makes in the incandescent lights. It reminded me of nights skiing over at Deer Run.

I wasn’t trying to set any records that night. The task was simple, trudge through the snow and drop the precious cargo off at home. I had my complete wits about me, as I always seem to when the pressure is on. I love it. When it absolutely positively is on, I almost always am too. Sometimes the road had been recently plowed, sometimes not. I didn’t try Crumhorn that night. If I had been alone, I would have.

We got back home around 9 or so. Tony and I had agreed to go out that night. Who would go out when they were already safe at home on a night like that? These guys and their noble steeds. I went into Oneonta and we left the Breeze at the hospital parking lot along Main St. It would be a good place to get her out of later. The snow was still coming down.

We didn’t care, and it was warm at the Fox. We stayed out till closing time and then went over to Neptune for breakfast with a few people. By the time we got done there, it was 4:30 going on 5. The Breeze had accumulated another 6 inches on top of her as the snowstorm had blown itself out. There were still a few small flakes and flurries falling, but the storm had passed. I fired her up, flipped the defrosters on and went to work cleaning her off. I could have stayed at Tony’s, but I wanted to be home to get an early start on cleaning up the next day.

The drive home wasn’t anything special, but I love the way it all looked in her headlights, just us on the road, the whole world seemingly asleep. I made the turn up the hill and wondered how we were going to get in the driveway. The plows had been through not more than a few hours before and on top of the 2 feet of snow we had, they had piled and packed it up. I thought about going up to the grandparents up the road and burying her in their yard, but I figured I’d give it a try here first. At the very least, if I got hung up half way out, the big shovels were no more than 30 feet away and there’d be a spot light to throw on.

We came up on it at about 20 mph, I turned in and we hit. Snow flew up in a big cloud and I couldn’t see anything. It must have looked pretty magical. It’s too bad no one saw it. When it all went white I put in the clutch and stopped the car, although the snow had done a pretty good job of doing that too.

There wasn’t that much snow on the windshield and a few swipes later, I could see that I had the car all the way in on the front half of the driveway. We had made it that far and I decided the best place to put her, would be out of the way down in front of the blue spruce. I wasn’t sure if we would have any traction, but down the hill we went, nose first. Getting down there, I figured what the heck, let’s try a 3 point turn, but I didn’t quite make it all the way, getting caught on some of the hard pack that was buried under the fresh stuff. Till morning then, and so it was.

I think we must have been back out on my way to school the next day. Maybe it was a couple weeks later, but that winter all the same. We were cutting over Crumhorn going down the Milford side with all the switchbacks. I started braking long in advance before the tightest spot, but it was really icy and she wasn’t slowing down enough. I padded the brakes and went off tangent to the road. It was good that we had all that snow, it kept me from going back the 15 feet to the tree line. Instead I was up to the door handle in snow, but only 3 feet off the side of the road.

I started digging and had to clear out a good 10 feet in front of the car to make it back out. While in the middle of it, a sheriff deputy came rolling by. He asked me if I needed him to call anyone to come help, etc. I told him I had my cell phone with me, but that digging her out was easy and that the car was fine. If I needed anything, I’d call my old man. He also made a crack about how I should get winter tires. Eh, I was the driver, it was my fault, not the tires. And it was. I had given her a little gas coming out of the previous corner and probably gotten a little too much speed up.

You’d have thought I’d have learned my lesson long ago. I suppose it never woulda happened if I had had someone ridding with me. I woulda been playing it more careful. If it had been the next curve, I also woulda been playing it more careful as going off there would have been fatal to the car. A calculated risk. In fact I had considered trying to cut the inside corner, but figured if I lost her going out of it, I might end up over the bank. I chose the smart place to go off, at least from my perspective. The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful.

Spring wasn’t quite officially here when I finally got sick that winter. It was a couple weeks before Easter. I felt like crap so I stayed in that night. I got up the next day and wanted to run down to the local supermarket to get some drugs. Walking up the sidewalk, there were pieces of a busted up side marker, and I figured some idiot had had issues trying to parallel park.

I got to the Breeze and realized we weren’t going anywhere. Someone had come into her just in front of the rear taillight, caught the rear left wheel and shoved everything forward into the rear door.

There was a good 3/8 inch gap between the wheel and the tire.

The suspension was collapsed. We weren’t the only victims. The stupid drunk 40 year old bitch driving her fat ass SUV and then come back into the car in front of me and the next, damaging 6 cars in total plus her own. One was a brand new Impreza wagon. She had to ditch her vehicle a little ways away because it was undriveable, and fled the scene, but still gotten busted. There was a number to call for the claim.

I had the unfortunate luck of having the same insurance company as her. Instead of making this easier, my company didn’t want to pay out any more than they had to, and she had bare minimum of coverage. The Breeze, at age 9 and all her miles was a total write off. Totaled. I was short a vehicle and would have to miss a week of work while getting a ride to class every day with my roomie.

I had her towed over to the place that I had do work on her out there, just for a quote on the work. They said it would cost what the insurance company was paying me just to get the mechanical work done. At least I had AAA and the tow job was free. The tow job that lay ahead of me would be $230.

Well, it was born out of a conversation with the old man. We decided the best thing to do would be to bring her home, and see if we could get the work done cheaper. At the same time, I would seal Bethann’s red-orange Neon, Pepe. She was still in high school and he wasn’t essential to her daily needs. Being in the situation I was in, I didn’t mind. Pepe had the same drivetrain, but a little bit different final drive ratio. He didn’t get as good of mileage as the Breeze, but he was good off the line and up through. Anyway, I shopped around and ended up at Penske for the rental. I was going to have to go with a 15 footer because the smaller trucks weren’t allowed to pull the trailer. I wanted to drop the combo off in Oneonta, but that was a no go. At least the guy must have felt for me, as he didn’t charge me for the trailer. We dropped Aaron's car off at school and hit the road.

Here it was, my first towing experience and I had a 15 foot bed with a 4 wheel trailer off the back. I couldn’t go with a 2 wheel job, cause the back end was messed up. It ended up working out alright, and I ended up parking everything up at the grandparents, backing the Breeze down and bringing her down to the house. We had Easter and then it was time to go back late that afternoon. Up went Pepe and we went back out.

I was half toying with the idea of making the Breeze a parts car and went out looking for another one just like her in the greater Rochester area. I found a not so bad purple machine, fairly cheap, but the old man had other ideas. Before I knew it, I had Merlot, my wine colored Stratus with the 2.4l automatic. She had some good pep as I knew from the time we drove a silver one while looking for Bethann’s car.

Over the next while, the Breeze would go and get her body/suspension work done for right around what the insurance paid off. What worked out against us, was the little plastic piece in the clutch had cracked and she needed a new one of those too. Oh well, She had over 170k miles on her back then, it was about time.

She wouldn’t be back on the road again until Feb. ’06. By then, I was already in Germany and it would be till December till I’d get to see her.

After his ’96 Dakota lost its brakes and got totaled, the Breeze became his daily driver for a time. The old man had been driving her and his truck (up till July) and she was still getting over 30 mpg, usually around 32-33 mpg. It was great being on the road again with her. She went up to camp with dad and I for some Christmas Day Kayaking on Ice.

We took a road trip out to Columbus to go visit James for New Years, stopping back in Rochester to visit the B&L crew for a few. There was also a run out to Rochester to see Aaron and Jeremy. Good times. She was 10 going on 11, and it looked like the hood was going to be going again on her before too long. Still, she was good transportation. I’d have jumped right in and gone anywhere with her.

I wasn’t sure if I’d get to see her again, if she’d still be there the next time when I came home. I had been through that once already with the Lancer, back when the Breeze was still young and vigor. We had come many miles together since then, and in a way, I was even more attached. I went home at the end of May ’07 again, and again, she was mine to run around with. With dad’s surgery, I pretty much restricted my outings to the local region. Still, we hit up all the old roads and I was able to get a little footage of her going down 7 into town. She could still go through the dip at 75 mph.

I wish I had been able to get a run in up to West Winfield on footage, but I had left my cable back in Wü and didn’t want to delete what I had.

In fact, I’m not even sure if I got up that way that trip home. What the Breeze got, was another scar. The night before the old man’s surgery, we came back from kayaking and backed the bed extender on the truck into the left front corner. She slid back a good 18 inches on the dew, but it tore the front cladding and bend the light and hood down. We felt bad, it’s no way to treat a lady.

Again I said my goodbyes not expecting her to be there when I got home. The old man had already gotten a new truck by then, and we weren’t sure if she’d go before the winter, or if we’d wait till spring. Although she needed a little maintenance, she was still cheap transportation. Not too long before coming home for Christmas ’07, she started having a hard time starting. I noticed it too when I came home and drove her. Sometimes she’d start hard, and sometimes when she was warm, she’d take off without too much trouble.

I didn’t go too far with her, a trip down to Kingston, one up to Albany and then a final one to Utica. The trip up to Utica was nice, going up the back roads through to West Winfield. I was pretty sure this would be the last time I got to share a moment like that with her. Coming out of the store in Utica, we’d have one of our last moments together, a flat tire. It ended up being a piece of plastic we picked up. This time I was without my pit crew, and it was just the two of us.

We got it done without too much trouble and then it was back down to West Windfield, with a short stop at the cemetery before continuing. I decided we should have some fun and started driving accordingly, but didn’t get very far before getting stuck behind a line of traffic with a tanker truck at the lead. In front of us was a red current generation BMW 325xi with a ski rack on top.

I thought we’d ditch them when we turned off rt51, but the BMW was going our way. I think he meant to leave us behind, but I gave the Breeze the go and we gave chase. We were no match for him. He was making over 200 hp and we probably weren’t even making 100. Still, I had her gears to use and managed to catch a glimpse of him here and there. It worked out nicely for us, because I knew I had a cop catcher out in front. I didn’t drive her as hard as I used to. I too was out of practice of driving out on the limit, but we had fun. Even after he turned off and was gone, I kept it on as we came down East River Rd. for the last time. There wasn’t any traffic coming and I got to take that corner the way I like to. We were going strong up Crumhorn and on the one switchback, I got her back end to step out about 6 inches on the dirt. We took it nice and easy after that, although there were a couple last sprints at the bottom of the hill and out by 7.

We decided if all she needed was a headlight and nothing major, we’d keep her going. We weren’t sure what the hard starting problem might be. It sounded at first as if it might have been ignition cables, but didn’t act like it driving her. In the end, when it came time to do inspection on her at the beginning of the month, it turned out that the number 3 cylinder is completely shot. She pukes oil out when turning her over without that spark plug in.

And so it goes, with about 190k miles and 12 years on her, it’s time to retire her. She’s at home, down back with the 50 Plymouth and my ’85 Lancer. Maybe an engine swap is in order. It would be illegal, but who is going to care with a car that old. I know where there is an ’86 2.2 turbo…. But as it goes with all that she needs, mechanical and bodywork, it’s time to let her go gracefully.

Like a lot of things, she was a car that I didn’t think too much of when I first saw her, but proved herself to me over time. She was an underdog, a warrior, and fighter till the end. She will be greatly missed. We spent the best of times, the worst of times and over 2/3^rd of my driving lifetime together.

The Good Old Days

17.05.07 The old man recently wrote to me to remind me that these are the good old days. I thought about it, but I have long struggled with this point. Even back in middle school, teachers were telling us of “the good old days.” We were living them they said. Of course the one was a big time basketball star back in his high school career. Me? At the time I was a second class geek. I wasn’t a first class geek. I couldn’t even get that right. That’s how it was.

Of course my opinion then is the same as it is today, every day is one of the good old days. Today will be yesterday tomorrow, and all we have is the now. It’s what we do with the now that influences how we will remember it.

I’m a sentimental hopeless romantic. It doesn’t take too much to come to that conclusion. Life is a journey. In the end we die, and what we do up until that point is what makes us individuals. Life is a series of phases, the steps in the journey. If you’ve ever been on an adventure, journey or something of that nature, you can probably pick it all out.

As a scout, we often went camping for a weekend. First, we all got together. There was waiting and chatting with people as they showed up. A kind of nervousness always seemed to be in the air. Eventually, all the packs were loaded and it was time to head out. We drove, cause usually it was a weekend where we would compete against other scout troops. In the more rarer cases, we took to the trail with map and compass in hand. Regardless, eventually we reached our destination.

We had to pick out a campsite. We’d clear sticks and stones before getting out tents. We set up tents and dug a fire pit., setting the sod off to the side. We’d gather wood to burn and get a fire going. There would be dinner, belly stretcher or a derivation of, clean up and then relax around the fire until it was time to turn in. Even then, there would be some gossip about which girl was looking good. Sometimes there would be a wrestling match (over a girl), but more often the chatter was held over a game of cards. For those who had been exposed to it and knew how to play, drinking games were played with Kool-Aid or water.

It would be a brisk morning. Usually a cool dewy air, maybe the crisp sharp frosty air in the fall. It was fresh though. Most mornings the sun would be shining or it would be the morning shimmer before the sun came up over the hillside. Other times there would be the familiar sound of rain drops bouncing off the fly, which had probably woken you up briefly in the night. The air was damp and heavy, so was everything else you had brought with you. It didn’t matter how well you had packed it.

We got up begrudgingly for breakfast. Perhaps instant oatmeal with water heated up over the fire or something of that nature. Maybe it was beacon and eggs cooked on the griddle over the fire. You were constantly trying to keep the smoke out of your eyes, especially if you were cooking. After cleanup, it was time to start the morning’s events. Each patrol divided up and went off to start at a particular even, tree identification or the compass course, maybe fire starting.

We’d go through and knock them down, one event at a time. Eventually, it was time to go back to the site to make lunch. Soup, sandwiches, maybe some art of goulash. Sometimes you didn’t want to go back out, but eventually it was time, and you did. You’d wrap things up, and maybe end up socializing with some guys from other troops that you knew from other schools, either from sports or classes at scout camp.

Dinner was a bigger affair. There might be a glazed ham in a box oven. Peach cobbler in the Dutch oven for dessert was a time honored tradition. There would be assembly around the big campfire and the evening would be passed watching skits, cheers and songs backlit with yellow orange red flames. The sparks would stream up towards the stars. Eventually awards would be handed out, more ribbons of green, red and blue to be hung off the troop flag pole.

After such a full day, things were usually a little quieter. Everyone had worn themselves out trudging through the forest, meadows and everything in between. The day’s rewards had been hard fought for, and while the bodies were not yet sore, they were worn out for the time being. It didn’t matter what the weather was like, when the eyes finally closed and one dropped off, a freight train wouldn’t have been enough to wake him.

The next day, we’d wipe the sleepers out of our eyes, and again go make breakfast. Afterwards there would be the closing ceremony and everyone would head back to break camp. The grass would be matted down from where the tents were, paths to where the dining fly was, and around the campfire, where the sod was now back in place.

The ride home always felt different than on the way over. You had changed, but you didn’t know how. After getting picked up, you went home and showered to rinse the smell of campfire off. You were human to your parents again after that. Gear was unpacked and prepped for the next time.

It was all a journey. For me to pick out one part that I liked better than the rest is almost impossible. Life has thus far been the same. For me they are all the good old days. I treasure and already miss the days that have yet to come.

Sure it’s easy to reminisce about the teens and twenties. First kiss, driving, the bar scene, sex, making money with no one to spend it on but ourselves and/or significant others. Still, there are kids to come and no reason to stop having fun. Maybe some grow out of, and get tired of getting blasted on the weekends every now and then, maybe not, but there’s no need to grow out of having a good time with friends and doing the things we love.

Of course later on in life, I might change my mind. Time goes by, and as it does it seems to go quicker. So these are the days that will all too soon belong to our own personal pages of history. And to this I say make every page a page turner. Want to read the next page, but hate to reach the end of each chapter, and the book itself. We can’t make it last any longer, but we can make the pages come to life in the most vivid imagery, colors and feeling. We can leave something behind, so that those that follow have something to remember, and a good story to tell. Hopefully they will be inspired and can live just as well, if not better. And then, then they will be the good old days.

It’s Not All About the Benjamin’s

There are a thousand and one different variants of it. “I’d rather be poor and happy than rich and alone.” I grew up in the 90’s so of course I’m familiar with P-Diddy. For everyone else, there’s always “Money can’t buy happiness.” For that one, I’m tempted to quote Johnny Dangerously and finish the line with “so I guess I’ll have to rent it.” But renting happiness is like sleeping with a hooker. You pay your money, get what you came for and then it’s over till next time. Not really what most people are after. So what is it really all about?

It’s always a different perspective. Those that have it will more than likely have a different view from those who don’t. And what does it mean? Being rich 200 years ago certainly means a different thing from being rich today. Even going back to Roman times, what was it to be rich? Sitting around in pools and what not? Getting you hand chopped off in the street for no reason? I have to believe that the sex is about as promiscuous, we’ve just improved birth control.

The issue of making a buck has plagued man for centuries. “No bucks, no Buck Rodgers.” Well we all have to make a living somehow. We all have to support our activities and agendas. In the more modern times, this has meant the career. The career has influenced modern man on a number of levels. Still, some say you can know where you’re going, or even where you’ve been. And times they were different.

Up until the 19^th century, you had barons of power. Go back as far as you like, there has almost always been a rich trader in the bunch. The whole Americas, Africa and East Asia were all colonized for one reason, to bring profit in. The ones who did this well, lived well. The ones that didn’t scraped by. There always was the fairly self sufficient farmer as well. Entertainment might have been theater or reading a book or playing some simple game.

The industrial age got things caught up in a hurry. There was lots to be done. It was possible to go from rags to riches with the right idea and the right backing. They’re in the history books, there are colleges and building named after these greats of their time; Carnegie, Mellon, JP Morgan, Rockefeller, Ford & Hearst to name a few. They struck it rich while many struck it poor. Inventions like the telegraph, telephone, light bulb, the automobile and record player changed the way people spent time together and stayed in touch with one another. National pastimes developed, specifically base ball for the time. For those who couldn’t make it to a game, there was the grand new invention of the radio.

The post world war II era defines the more modern times. The Automobile has come into its own. You can fly across continents in a matter of hours, even fewer while the Concords were still flying. The television was invented. You didn’t have to travel to the stadium to see the big games. It was brought to you over the airwaves in 2D form in addition to the 1D sound.

With generation x came the age of the internet, the dot-com boom, and the development of all the modern pc based things people occupy themselves with today. What the internet was 15 years ago, and what it is today is a truly outstanding development. Of course there are pros and cons, but it has indeed provided in making the world a smaller place. People can more easily find others with similar interests. Letters go from point a to b in a matter of seconds, and without causing paper, postage and days-weeks. It is now possible to better research products before buying them, and find out about bad products. People can now scan and print in photo quality. This is complimented by today’s digital cameras. 10 years ago an extra gig was an extra couple hundred bucks, now you pay less than a dollar a gig.

The whole world has gone and gotten itself in a big hurry. In the business world, you can give presentations to multiple continents at a time. It has brought the business world closer together and thus brought the demand for those who are culturally aware. To move up the ranks requires moving around. Changing departments, changing companies. Hands shuffle themselves and the guy who used to be your customer might end up moving within your industry and working as your supplier. There are those who seek to move up, move around. There are those who are only swiping the proverbial punch card, and there are those who will perfect their craft.

At some point, everyone reaches to point to which the quality of their life meets their expectations. It’s not all about the money, about moving up and moving around. It’s about looking forward to work each day. It’s about having enough time to enjoy a family and watch it grow. It’s about friends and having the time to spend with them.

Is the best career move the one where you set yourself up to climb the corporate ladder, or the one that provides you with the best ‘play time quality’ to ‘free time’ ratio? And how does one reach this plateau? It’s always been there. It was just harder to jump. In this day in age, there is more available, and yet people are content to just let it go by. It might be a generational thing. I still feel the generation x-ers are fighting the over driven life, the corporate policy of do more with less.

None the less, the power lies pretty much within the individual. There is always hope. There is always the inner will. There is always the morning sunrise and best of times amongst those who are simply the best people to be around. It’s not about the Benjamin’s, it’s not about whoever ends up with the most toys at the end wins. It’s not more money, more problems, but less life is no life. Get busy livin’, or get busy dyin’. Here’s to doing what makes you happy, what makes you feel like you belong and what let’s you live the way you want.

There Go My Heroes

It’s been rolling around in my head for a while now. It’s something that drives me to do what I do, the way I do it. You can let the Foo Fighters play in the background for this one. Here are my heroes.

I don’t know if it’s universal. I’d be willing to agree, when things work out the way they’re suppose to, every sons greatest hero is his old man. In general, he doesn’t do it alone, but there’s a male to male bond. The male role model, and it may be equally arguable, that if done right, every guy searches for a wife he hopes will do as good with his children as his mother, but then I’d have to change the title.

My greatest hero is indeed my father. A kid the doctors didn’t think would live past 12. He didn’t have it easy growing up. My grandfather worked 3 jobs at one point to make ends meet. My father could play sports, at least not in school. He couldn’t play a musical instrument, since they thought it would kill him. Still, he played ball in the park and was a pretty mean pitcher. He rode his bike where he had to go. His parents split when he was 16 and he went to live with foster parents. He worked on the farm there and then summers at Tenaco.

His grades landed him a scholarship, which allowed him to go to college. My father became a pharmacist because he wanted to help people. For over 30 years, in the hectic hospital environment. He could have moved on to bigger and better positions, but stayed put and gave his family stability. I know it’s probably one of the most important background things that had an effect in my life. I know I grew up in a place that I will always love. His self sacrifice has paid off many a dividend to me.

You have to respect someone that knows when it’s time to take themselves out of the game. It was a hard choice for my father, but he had the courage to do the right thing. A weaker mortal would have kept going until they hurt themselves or someone else. Pharmacy is a business where an error can cost a life. Dad had the guts to resign, and judging by the responses, it sounds like he created something more at work. Something that made people’s day brighter. Of course I know because I grew up under his roof, by his rules, his wit and his humor.

I have many a memory. I can remember before I was too big to be thrown up in the air and he playfully threatened to bonk my head into the light fixture in the kitchen. I can remember his 79 LeBaron, the car that was immaculate and too good for my brother and I to ride in on most occasions. I didn’t understand it then, but I did when I taxied my friends around in the four wheels that were mine. I can remember him always building something in the basement, or the shed. I can remember the 86 Lancer when it was brand new and him running up through the gears, the turbo snapping our heads back on the way over to Cherry Valley. I can remember the bits and pieces of advice on women. The man to man things when mom wasn’t around. He went with me to court for my first speeding ticket. Came out in a light snow storm one New Years when I got the car stuck. We’ve done everything from camping, hiking and boating to going to the races. My father grew two fine men. I think almost anyone will agree with that. He is probably the greatest single thing that has made me who I am today, and for all of that, he is my number one hero.

Of course it doesn’t stop there. Growing up I had a number of role models and heroes. I’ve always had a fascination for people who went out and did things before they became easy, and those who have gone old school to make things more of a challenge. You had the golden era of flight with the prop driven planes and the men who pushed them in the second world war. The 60’s and into the early-mid 70’s was the golden era of racing. They didn’t just push a button to fire a missile, or look at data acquisition results to figure out how to best set up the car.

It wasn’t until I entered the work force as a co-op till I found my next group of heroes. I had worked at a scout camp for 6 summers and had my crews, but a crew is a group of buddies. We’d kill for each other, we were that tight, but about the biggest amount of stress we ever encountered was the lack of women for 7 weeks straight and having to control the libido when the occasional scoutmaster’s daughter came up to visit.

When I started co-oping I quickly came to realize there are a few different types of people in the working world. There are those who are there for just a paycheck. It’s just something to do 8 hours a day in exchange for the ability to afford alcohol, toys and woo members of the opposite sex for the purpose of intercourse. There are those who are all about themselves. You are an object to them, no different than a piece of office equipment. They are looking to climb the ladder and you might just be another yellow brick on the road to Oz. You have the full of shitters who do more harm than good, and you have the people who make it happen.

I have had four jobs where I worked with quite a bit of the doers. I’ve been fortunate to come into teams and work with the best of the best. It’s been the down to earth people who had more intelligence in their little finger than some hot shot phd that mean a lot. I had my first one of these during my first co-op. Every morning, we’d spend a half hour before starting the day drinking a cup of coffee and I’d eat my bagel while discussing the world, the world of engineering and whatever else. It was a year later when I came into my next group of heroes. They gave me the tools, a bit of direction and no chains to hold me back. Their effort inspired my effort. There was and still is a core of characters punching away, spending critical periods working hours on end. There always has to be good fodder about your sister.

I left this group one fall to answer one of the two questions that would nag me about my career if I didn’t answer them. Automotive, or not? This was as good a time as any to check one off. It had been a goal to try that industry out since before I started college. By the time I got there, I had seen a good portion of what lay under the tip of the berg people call engineering. I was just hoping I’d end up in an area that suited me. It worked out well. I was there too short to really work myself into anything special. Still, I was able to contribute. I had a team which taught me the essence of doing more than just working together. Afterwards, I went back and finished my degree. I spent that time and the summer back where I had been, trying to help put and prepare as much of my baby for it’s grand preview as possible.

I left the following fall to go after question number two, and I’ve been here ever since. With the stereotype in the states, I can get away with quoting the line from Top Gun, “I heard the best of the best were here, so I thought I’d come on down.” Well, everywhere I’ve been, I’ve been on a different side of the coin. It is of course different. It’s even different from what it was a year or even 6 months ago. I’ve come a long way and it is because, as before, I have the best examples to follow. It’s a combination of everything I’ve experienced up until now, and more. While I have come into and have a lot of contact with virtually every department required to develop a product, it has been my fellow project managers and apps who really out do themselves. And I don’t see them as successful just at work, but outside of work too. They are and have what I hope to have on a variety of levels, not just the ones at work. I always enjoy the time we share outside of work, and of course the friendly quips at work. We sit at work in our threesome. When one suffers, we all suffer, but we hold each other up and make things right.

And those are most of my heroes, or at least the type.

Top: "Gurney fights from the first to the last minute of a race with complete dedication and is equally fast, never wearing out. His style is smooth and thus elegant." Richard von Frankenberg

Bottom: "After the race all the drivers and mechanics went to a restaurant together. We lived and we worked together. I enjoyed that the most." Jack Brabham,
the only man to ever win the championship in his own car.

Looking Back on the Attack

11.09.06 It’s hard to think back on the last 5 years, and realize it’s been that long already. We all remember that morning. People in other parts of the world remember that afternoon, or early morning, when radio and television stood on their heads.

I remember walking back from class and hearing bits of conversations. From my understanding, it sounded like two planes had collided over downtown NYC. I remember thinking to myself shit, but thinking how it was probably only a matter of time as most airport electronics dates back to the 70’s. I thought good, maybe now they’ll invest a little more in keeping things up to date. I was as shocked as most of the world. I remember watching the second collapse. I was sad, and pissed off. The media was coming off like a bunch of 3^rd grade rejects. I don’t remember what they said, but it just pissed me off. Of course that was the year I was an RA and my thoughts ran threw the names and home towns. No one I knew lost anyone, but I know there were people who did.

As a upstater, we constantly bash NYC, but it’s a brotherly kind of bashing. You don’t actually try to drive a stake through his heart. We don’t talk like them, and we don’t drive like them, but they’re a part of us and we’re a part of them. I know I wish we still had the Statue of Liberty license plates. Growing up I visited the Big Apple a couple times. I can remember riding past the towers in the school bus a couple times. They were New York’s skyline. You always had the Empire and Chrysler buildings in there too, but the towers solidified it. For 30 years, they had been captured by every camera angle imaginable, almost.

Some things will always irk me. The event brought people together, like tragedy always does, but there were enough people running around with a kind of drunken grief as well. People caught war fever overnight. We wanted justice, but what is justice itself if unjustly achieved? Like most events, the details, the important measures got mixed up, forgotten or swept under the rug by politics.

They had all died heroes. Still, were they any different than any other fire fighter or policeman killed in the line of duty? Granted, they had died almost all at once, it a great tragedy, but they were still the same as any Joe in that sense. All of the sudden people cared more, they were enlightened. They became band wagon fans, because suddenly it was in fashion. And I’m happy people have more respect for those who perform some of the toughest and more honorable work in the world. I just think it shouldn’t have been riding on such an even.

I honestly don’t feel any safer on an airplane than I ever have. I don’t think our ports are safe either, and rather than go wage a war, those are the two places I would have beefed up first. If drug traffickers can still smuggle their deliveries into the country, how hard can it be for a terrorist to do the same? But I say no risk, no fun. My chances of dying are what they are, take it or leave it, just make the best of it.

I will always honor those who have given themselves unselfishly in the service of others. And I will try to strengthen cultural bonds instead of breaking them, so that some day, we may all live as an international family. For now, I will honor the fallen with a heavy heart and a tear in the eye. May we never forget, but honor their memory by holding first ourselves and then others to higher standards of conduct.

Following Through

I heard it for the first time when I was a wee lad. For our coaches it was a part of their favorite repertoire. Follow through. My father never put it that way, he always told us that we should finish what we start. In my grandfather’s words, he didn’t care who started it, but that he was going to end it.

Now as I was growing up, I had my share of unfinished projects. Did I lack the know how at the time? Did I need help and didn’t know it? Maybe I needed a little motivation. Things always go better when there is more than just one person doing the work, although I must confess, I do enjoy working alone at times.

Regardless of working alone or on a team, if it’s one thing I learned over the years, it’s that you have to follow through. The world loves those who have the drive to finish what they start. If you’re a special kind of person, you get sent in to fix things, usually when they’re totally f-ed.

That’s it though. Nothing worthwhile ever comes without some sort of adversity. It’s adversity that brings out the true colors in people. It’s pressures that show the character people are made of. It’s temptations that show us where we’re weak.

It’s tough. Sometimes you get into something and it turns out to be the exact opposite of what you were expecting. Sometimes you have to cut your losses, but that’s usually only a requirement in the business word. It’s usually a matter of constitution, a matter of drive, and a balance of commitments.

I’m a pretty firm believer in that people can will themselves to do almost anything, if they want to bad enough. Sometimes you can will yourself to do something by telling yourself that it has to be done, that failure is not an option, that there are no limits. This works well for personal things, but can be difficult in a team setting. Again, it boils down to each individual to decide their own level of commitment.

Things don’t always happen as planned. That’s life. Sometimes you have to be able to change gears with the changing conditions to stay within the power band. Sometimes you have to set priorities, but you should never forget. You can usually come back to something, but you can’t postpone for forever.

It can be a matter of self commitment, but maybe you owe it to others to get it done. Maybe you have come this far, it would be a shame not to complete the last piece or two of the puzzle. And what I’ve noticed, at least for myself, is that it always feels better that way. It feels better to have things completed rather than have them laying around, or remembering that once upon a time, I wanted to do that. It’s always nice to look and say yeah, I was there, I was a part of that, that’s mine.

It’s always a compliment when people say with amazement, “damn, I never would have been able to do that.” But I’m always reminded that there was once a point in time when I probably thought the same thing, and then I dared and willed myself to give it a go. I know they could do the same, if they wanted to and could follow through.

It’s a shame to be a quitter. It’s a shame to give up because something is too hard. There is almost always a way. You just have to believe. You just have to try, and sometimes more than once, character belongs to those who have the commitment to follow through.

Punks, Drunks, Shit Like That

Personally, I think it’s part of that generation. I know that generation, I spent enough summers at scout camp to know that there’s something wrong with generation R. Why R? Cause they’re the Ritalin generation. They’re part of the generation that grew up without ever being hit by their parents and would threaten to call the police if they ever were. They watched too much Barney and Teletubbies. They can’t remember what it meant not to have internet, let alone what people did before the modern age of computers. They’ve grown up thinking they deserve ever modern accessory; game cube, playstation, mp3 player, cell phone, palm pilot, laptop. There’s still one thing they’re lacking, the maturity. They’re all dick and no brains. Maybe that’s just men in general, maybe it’s the modern era of MTV that has turned their brains all to crap. Maybe it’s all of that.

My opinion is that they’re all just a bunch of softy clown punchers. I remember growing up when spanking and corporal punishment was still allowed. My mother didn’t like it, but I think a little bit is good. Sometimes you have to learn children a little respect via tough love. I can remember being little and arguing with my brother over something. I remember our grandfather telling the both of us that if we wanted to cry about something, he would give us something to cry about. We understood the meaning and the tone and straightened our act right up. It was either that, or that if we wanted to bang heads, he would knock our heads together and we wouldn’t like it. I remember the cuff across the face the first time I dropped the f-bomb. I remember that if Orrin and I thought about getting out of line, we could count on a size 10 from his father to our backsides. The instructions to the babysitters were always the same; “If they get out of line, don’t hesitate to smack them.” We knew our place.

We were the generation that grew up playing Atari, Nintendo and Sega. We had duck hunt and Super Mario 3, with the game genie. We didn’t have cell phones or have to worry about running out of minutes. We weren’t always accessible to each other. We had to be home to receive calls. We still had to use rotary dial phones. None of that cordless touchtone crap. The old man used to flip the shit a little when he got the phone bill and saw how much/long I had been talking to the girl the next town over. “I never talked that much on the phone when I was your age.” That’s cause the telephone hadn’t been invented yet when you were my age…. well not really.

He didn’t do a lot of things back then, but did other things. I never had a rock salt pistol with three different barrels to go play with. No one ever stormed our shack to try and tip it over. But what did we talk about all the time? I don’t know, but I think it was cooler to pass notes in class than write text messages. You could sit at home, watch Saved by the Bell and talk to some girl till one of your parents came home. MTV still played music back in those days. Of course I’ve got a little bit of the old man in me. I’m anti camera phones. The only thing they’re good for is taking a picture on top of a ski slope and sending it to your buddy who couldn’t come. He can then take a picture of himself giving you the bird and everyone is entertained.

My generation has been in the middle of all the modern electronic developments. We went from cassettes and walkmans to CD’s to mp3’s. We went from no hard drive to 200 gig of portable USB power. Processors and memory from double digits to quadruple, from green on black color screens to 32-bit. Cameras have gone from Fisher Price to 4 mega pixel digitals. Printers from dot matrix to photo quality. People used to have date books, now people have to check their Outlook calendar or pda. If your cell phone takes a dump, you’ve probably lost whatever form of a black book you have. And that’s why I say today’s generation R is different from all the ones before it, but that they still need a good smacking.

It’s Frank’s World –we just live in it.

People always get a kick out of that postcard. I’ve had it quite a while now, a picture of me plastered over Sinatra. It’s from the second year at school. Maybe I should change it, but what one would I put up instead?

Turning 25 has put a new spin on things. I’ve got a decade of pure chewing satisfaction to look back on. Sometimes I feel like I’ve done it all, but then I’m reminded that the days are too short, time goes by too fast and I have too many hobbies and interests. It’s the reflection knowing that I can’t do it all, but seeing that I’ve done a lot with what I’ve had. I suppose that’s the best anyone can do.

If it’s one topic that comes up every now and then, it’s how my co-op is going. People here want to know if I’m having a good time and enjoying things. People back across the pond want to check up on me, and see what’s the next adventure I’ve taken. People here usually follow things up with a “What made you come here,” and “Is it hard to find a job in the US?” I explain things from the perspective that I saw. And as topics go, people want to know what kind of money people make in the US, what’s the cost of living like. I explain that as an engineer, you start around 50G’s a year, teachers probably more like 20-30 depending on the area. My peers are usually surprised when they find out what I’m making here. “You could be making over 3X what you’re making here? What are you doing here?” It’s always difficult to explain. I enjoyed the job I could have had, the town wasn’t too shabby either. For whatever reason though, the chance to follow a dream line doesn’t cut it. My peers look at me with a twisted face as if someone just kicked them in the nuts. But I still say, what’s the going rate for a dream these days? The last MasterCard commercial I saw said priceless.

Homesickness for the times gone by

I have homesickness for the things I can never go back to. The times that belong to the history books, the times we can never get back. With every day, every week, every year that we are away from each other, we change. You can always meet back up, you can always go out and do something, but the virgin times, the golden times, they always belong to a time when people grew up together.

Sure there were times before high school. Not to belittle those times, as they are as important as the rest, but they do lack some intensity. It was high school that we all started to spread our wings out and fly around some. Where our parents loosened their grip and hoped we wouldn’t fall flat on our faces. They were the days when we rode buses to away games, when we sat in study hall together. It was the time when we really became social, when our hearts were young and our dreams large. There were parties, card nights, dances and nights on the down. There was a safety net. As long as you managed to do your school work, or most of it, there would be plenty of time for everything else. It was almost impossible to overextend yourself, even if you had a job and played sports.

They told us those days would be the best days of our lives. We had fun, and before we knew it, we had gowns on. We would take awards home from school for the last time. No one would ever again worry about perfect attendance, or a regents exam. We would never again, sit out in from of the school in the June sun, talking about the questions and answers. In a small school, you spend 12 years with people and then get scattered to the wind. Sure you keep in touch. The last 10 years have been magical allowing people to stay just a couple keystrokes and mouse clicks away from each other.

But as I said, you loose the closeness. Your experiences differ from theirs. You can share, and on some levels, you are going through the same things. Still, there’s a difference between relating to someone and living the blood sweat and tears next to them in the proverbial trenches.

You end up having to build a new life of some sort. For some, who stay in the area and go right to work, the transition is smaller. The area, the people, a lot of those things stay the same. Your crew of friends may change some, your idea of sports might end up being league baseball and bowling, but the social net is fairly well established. People around know who you are. You’re still so and so’s kid, you’re still the one who was on the sports team who went to sectionals and so on.

For a few daring souls, the transition is abrupt. They leave it all behind, language included and go to another country. They leave it all behind, but carry it deep in their hearts. They start from scratch, building the best they can. A year will go by in the blink of an eye. The path will most likely bring them back to the point they started from, but it will be they who will be different.

In what has become the most common way, most go on with their education. In the various shades of this new world, some will live at home and commute, some will travel across the country to get out of what they see as a small town trap and some will be a days drive or less away from home. The experience is shaped more for the out of towner.

“College is the best time of your life. When else are your parents going to spend several thousand dollars a year just for you to go to a strange town and get drunk every night?” David Wood

It’s not quite that extreme, but the theme is concurrent for what most hoped it would be. Sure, there would be classes, but most hoped that there would be plenty of time to party. College was going to be National Lampoon’s Animal House. There would be frat parties with sorority girls. Everybody would have lots of sex and be merry.

In reality, it would be shaded the way high school was. There was a hierarchy. The underclassmen would all think that they were big stuff. They felt that they had earned everything already and expected to be on the same level as the upperclassmen. The upperclassmen in turn would throw it back and explain how they hadn’t earned squat yet. “The stuff we’re doing would make tears run down your face and make you cry for mommy it’s so hard.”

It wasn’t exactly true, everything would be relative. Every semester, every year you’d have to step up your game. By the end of things, your game was on a higher level than when you started out, but the difficulty of things had grown in proportion. You can’t compare little league to high school level to college level to the majors.

There would be club activities and a part time job. The safety net people had in high school would be gone. No one was going to tell you you couldn’t carry 18 credits, work 20 hours a week and spend 20 hours on club activity. If you were smart, you multiplied your credits by two because you knew there would be the same amount of time spent on doing homework, labs, projects and reports. Social outings and a significant other would also have to be factored in. All in all, even if you didn’t sleep, there still weren’t enough hours in the day to do it all if your eyes were too hungry. Everybody made their own cuts, had their own limits, and some would fall over the edge when they got the balance wrong. The good old days of high school were gone. The portions had grown, but the week remained the same. Those that used to do it all would find it hard to adapt.

Without say, it would be a grand old time, regardless of what happened, even if only for a little while. It would be a grand new world at the start. Sure there would be programming, people trying to tell you the same crap you learned in high school about drugs, alcohol and sex. But you would all be there together, in some dorm looking to refill the lifestyle each was accustomed to, some searching for something new. Never again would the opportunity present itself to be around so many people. Everyone would build new circles. Between classes, work, club(s) and the floor, relationships were there for the taking. All you had to do was be willing to open your door, your mouth, reach out there and touch it.

There would be late nights just chilling, a couple people in a room or a lounge. There would be all-nighters and jam sessions, rocking out to mp3’s over headphones while your roomie slept. There would be nights when nothing made sense, when you thought you would loose your mind. If you were lucky, you would find love, but as love goes, it’s risky at best and some would loose just as fast as they found. It would take a broken heart or two, but some would be lucky and find the one.

Most would move out of the dorms after their mandatory year of “hell,” but were established and hooked up. Most would move out with the crew they had established into a 3 or 4 bedroom somewhere. The routine was established, semesters and years were just variants of the first. You just had to up the antae every once in a while. With a good foundation, things would rock and roll. You could build your relationships and make a name for yourself in your activities. You got to know more and more of the classmates in your major. Your professors knew who you were.

You’d have summer jobs and internships. If you were lucky, you’d go back home for a summer or two to be near what you had lost. Otherwise you’d meet people in your field who had been out there in the thick of it for a while and could give you some advice. Over the course of things, you’d see the direction you wanted to take, if you didn’t already know. You’d get to see different companies and how they operated. If you were lucky enough to be at the right place at the right time, you’d be able to give as much as you got. Towards the end of things, you’d be able to shine and show your stuff as what you could be, and hint at what you would be in the future. The luckiest would find a workplace to call home after graduation through the course of it all.

And just like that, in the blink of an eye, it would be cap and gown time again. Another few years gone by. The memories aren’t of classes themselves, with a few exceptions devoted to a few professors who made it the best, but of the times. It was a repeat of high school, but on a grander larger scale. There was more to risk, more to gain. It was more personalized as everyone had the power to do it their way. By the end of it all, people had found out who their closest friends from the good old days were, with whom time could not divide. Most had found a few new close friends to keep in touch with. Some had even found the love of their life and would marry in the following year or two.

All had experienced the transition from high school to college and maybe experienced a couple transitions between internships and school. Some didn’t see the end coming last time, but the tunnel would be straight at the end for everyone this time around. Some rejoiced, some were sad and for most it would be bitter sweet. Everyone knew they’d all be scattered to the wind again.

Some would go on with school, but most would find a job. Everyone would follow their dreams the best they could. Those that hadn’t gone on to college had probably settled down, gotten married and maybe even had a kid or two. They had started the phase the rest would just be getting into.

There will be colleagues at work. There will be projects and deadlines. For most, the hectic days of late night sessions are over. For some, the traveling has just started. But if you ask me, it’s just the next level of the game. It’s the level where people get married, have kids and all that. Some went to it right out of high school, some took a little longer to get there. It’s the same game everyone’s been playing for a while now. It’s the same old balancing act of doing what you know you got to, having a hobby/interest or two and managing the social life. You need the first to be able to provide for the second two. It’s a bit more regulated, but you still need to find the right balance. You can still fall over the edge if you don’t watch yourself.

At some point it’ll be time to retire from being pro time and go old-timers. Things will hopefully be just for fun, for the spirit of the game. It’ll be more coaching and spectatting. The kids will have grandkids and all that stuff. Eventually we all go to the big sandlot in the sky.

I haven’t gone pro yet. I’m still pretending I’m in college, but you can bet I’ll make the jump when my time comes. I’ve seen enough to know what’s coming, but I know I’ll still have to up the antae when the time comes.

My mind on things is that they’re all the golden times. The times that have gone by have gone by too fast and I know the one I’m in will belong to that group all too soon. It’ll be the next level and then the one after that. But I’m not going to let a minute of it go by without trying to play the game the best I can. Sure you remember the best plays, but I say it’s the people that make the memories.

I am homesick for the times gone by. For the nights when we piled in a car and headed out for some adventure. For the nights we sat around talking about our goals and dreams, cracking jokes over a drink and card game or two. For the late nights, cool night air, clear sky and stars in the mid morning hours. For the games we played. I hate having each piece so far away, but it couldn’t have gone any other way for me. The world is dotted with places that are all golden to me. It’s not the places, but the people at them. The golden times are there when you belong to a crew, a bunch of people you can call your goodfellas and girls. It’s the bonds we built, the looks we exchanged. It’s the times we’ll create the next time we cross paths.

Scouting

When most people here that you were a boy scout, their first thought is of that guy in high school who did everything by the book. They think of that guy who was kinda the teachers pet, who did all of his homework, who never drank, never smoked and who wasn’t even going to go to first base with a girl until they were married. So I’m here to dispel the myths, or at least add some truth.

We all started off as goofy preadolescents, but no more so than the rest our age. Those who had been part of cub scouting, and especially Webelows, had been to camp and on an overnight campout or two. There would be many more to come.

Things usually started out with knots. It was a periodical ritual. In scouting you learned how to do lashings as well. Now you could build A-frame structures, cooking stands, bridges, tripods and catapults. You were armed with a bow saw and an axe, knew how to care for them, knew how to use them.

There would be first aid. If someone drops down with a heart attack in front of you, a scout is going to know what to do about it until help arrives. He’s going to think send for help, airway, breathing, circulation. If he comes upon something, he’s going to be looking around for power lines, sniffing for gas or checking for a source of carbon monoxide poisoning before he rushes in. He’s going to know how to apply direct pressure and elevate the wound. He’s going to know to look after the neck and back and keep the head isolated if a back injury is suspected. He’s going to treat for shock and keep talking to the victim in a cool and calm voice. Later on, he might learn lifesaving techniques on the water. He will know how to treat sun stroke and hypothermia.

A boy scout is a piro. He knows how to burn the forest down like any other idiot, but he also knows every step to take to prevent it as well. He can start a fire in the snow with one match. He knows how to make a good cooking fire and a bright camp fire. He knows how to put them out and how to leave the grounds with hardly a trace of things. If he sticks around long enough, he will learn the art of ceremony fires.

A scout is skilled person in the outdoors. He can pick out the 4 points of the compass if stranded. He can orient and follow a map miles over various terrain with a 40 lb pack strapped to his back. He is skilled in canoeing, rowing, kayaking and sailing. He can swim with known strokes. He can cook. He can shoot a bow and arrow, a gun and shot gun and care for all. He knows trees and what they’re good for.

With all of his skills, he is ready to face the outdoors in any sort of weather. Stormy or calm, rain, sleet, snow or shine, you can throw him out there and he will know how to make the most of it. From tarping it on the bare ground, to tenting to lean-toos, he’s ready for it all.

He is a fellow versed in skits, songs and cheers. He knows how to get up in front of a group of people and put on a show. He knows how to MC.

Through it all, he learns how to lead. He can lead by example, he can lead by showing and teaching the way. He is a spirited competitor and knows the essence of teamwork. In the nights spent with his peers, he has fallen asleep talking about the things most men talk about, sports, women and what’s going on. He’s a member in his community and gives time to help out and lend a hand around town.

He’s part of a brotherhood, a group of young men who will fool around and get into trouble every once in a while, but who would also go out on a limb for each other. He’s part of a group that earns respect. Above all else, he’s a hard working son of a gun who’s going to be able to save your ass if you plane goes down.

The Poetic Side of Things

2005-11-02T23:02:00.000+01:00

It was back around '97 or '98 when I wrote my 100th poem. It's still the only one I know by heart:

The Disease of Love

The disease of love,
I know no cure,
Only that it's something
People with hearts must endure.

Those that love,
Can't live without.
Those that love and loose,
Know what it's all about.

What started off as a crush long ago,
Becomes the love that they now know.
Many crushes have come, and many gone,
But now they sit together as the day breaks a new dawn.

They're cuddled in each others arms,
The way lovers should be.
They swear to spend their lives together,
Fulfilling their destiny.

The loves that passed long before,
Now they are faded memories and exist no more.
Still some heartache remains inside,
Overcome by happiness it shall hide.

And like the knights of the round table, in the days of old,
It is a princesses love that I long to hold.
If you will be my princess, everything will be fine,
As all roses are sweeter than wine.

If you say no, I'll close and lock the door,
As I don't think I could love anymore.

A Way to Start the Day, The Night Before

We've been sitting across
From each other all night long.
Eyes meet and bounce away,
Flirtatious smirks barely suppressed.

We both finish our drinks,
And head out on the dance floor.
More eyes, more smiles,
There's no repressing it now.

It's Latin American night.
Our hands meet
She lets me be the gentleman
And I lead.

Cha-cha, Meringue,
The night passes away,
Hours pass by in seconds
Feels like we've known each other for ages.

Afterwars, a diner.
Coffee and friendly chatter.
No longer across from one another,
We're turned to each other.

She rides back with me.
We both play it cool.
We both know what's coming.
We both know what we want.

We go inside,
I lock the door.
She turns the light back off,
And we kiss.

Her lips are warm, soft, firm, passionate.
I caress her lower back
Her fingers run through the scruff of my neck.
Our hearts race together.

I brush my thumb across her cheek,
Hand sliding down to her neck.
Our lips part, as I kiss her,
From just below the ear to her shoulder.

My shirt now untucked,
Her hands run up my back underneath.
Nails dig in a few times,
Till she pulls it off.

Her top is next,
And lands somewhere.
I tease,
Kissing her half exposed chest.

Dropping down to her waist,
I work my way up.
My hand finds the clasp.
She gasps, holding me into her.

The night is magic.
We melt together
Time and time again,
Till we lay spooning.

Cuddling, we wisper back and forth,
My fingers run up and down her arm lightly.
We roll over and I
Fall asleep to her rubbing my chest.

Breakfast is more like brunch,
Two steaming hot cups in our hands,
Two sparkling eyes to gaze into,
And a smile to start the day.

Love & Racing

Just give me a god damn Race Car!
Something with four wheels,
And Pulls out of the Corners.

Just give me an open stretch.
Give me lefts & rights,
Short and long straights with hills.

Give me a stretch that knows no limits.
Let it have a soul and none.
I'll give it mine,
Without asking anything in return.

Let it be deserted
With the bright sun on spring green leaves.
Give me cool air warm in the sun,
Or a bright night under the moon.

Let me see the gravel.
Give me the racing line through it.
We'll marble through with a heart throb,
Hook back up and keep on moving.

Let her push through the corners on all 4.
First leaning hard to the front outer corner.
Give me the transferring to the back while leaping forward,
As a panther on the pounce.

Give me greedy brakes.
Let me nurse them in gently, but with force,
On the brink of traction,
Into the turn in point then lifting off.

Give me the heat of the moment.
Let me show her passion & compassion.
Just keep me pushing hard, don't tire with the time.
Gotta keep it up all the way to the end.

Let me Love the way I race,
The way I love to Race,
With passion's intense moments,
And stints to cool off before heating it up again.

Let it all blend together perfectly,
With us being equally in control of each other.
Racing is second to Love,
And my Love is second to none.

Racing

You change,
2 layers of Nomex.

The shoes fit better than Italian leather hand shoes.
You tie them up,
Toss the racing gloves in the helmet,
And walk outside, the arms tied around your waist.

She’s already out there, waiting.
The motor is warm.
It’s idling raspy, waiting,
For the smoothing high rpm’s.

You get in, foot to the brake pedal.
The 6-point harness comes together;
Nut-huggers and waist belts – clipped,
Shoulder belts – snap, snap.

You take the wheel from the A-Arm,
It finds the keyway, - snap.
Gloves and helmet sit on the other arm.
The helmet slides snuggly down, gets fastened, gloves next.

You blip the gas a couple times.
She’s good and ready now,
The steering wheel feels good,
You get the OK.

Clutch in,
Lever forwards with a notchy click.
You bring the rpms up, 9000,
Lift off the clutch and start off.

The tires get their grip.
Click – 2^nd.
You burry the pedal, lift,
Click – 3^rd, then 4^th.

It’s only been 4 seconds,
You’re doing 75.
It’s ecstasy,
It’s orgasmic.

You brake and come back down.
Acceleration, braking, left, right.
Everything’s good, all systems go.
You bring her to the start line.

You get the green,
It’s all about time.
Now is the time,
You are the man.

You’re in your own world.
You have yourself,
The car, and the course.
You only hear the motor.

You eyes look through the ideal line,
Your hands and feet follow.
You anticipate and react,
You race.

You’re pushing yourself,
You’re pushing the car,
You two are married,
You two are one.

Everything streaks past in the blink of an eye.
It’s like a dream,
But you stay in it and are completely conscious in the moment,
The memory will be numb.

You push hard.
- Faster, faster, stay on it.
Your arms burn.
You’re wet with sweat.

It’s over.
You come to a stop.
They come over and help you out.
You’re beat.

They’re amazed.
You were awesome.
You were on the edge.
You flirted with dead and survived.

When you can move again,
You go eat dinner.
You play it through your mind again
In quiet satisfaction.