Big Brother

RIGHT NOW!

What’s On: “Jesse” Julian Lennon (THANKS BUDDY!)

Current Attitude: Peaceful

When I was a youngin’, my Dad was our local King of Soccer. He was involved with all the arranging and organizing and was often quite busy. He also sometimes worked 3 jobs and couldn’t always be around. I liked soccer, but I LOVED baseball and hockey.

Dad wanted to make sure I got to do some of the things I enjoyed and I had a kindred spirit in a guy we had gotten to know from one of my Dad’s part time jobs. A young guy named Glenn was the assistant director of the recreation center and he and I hit it off quickly. By the time I was 9 years old, I had a little job at the rec center too, doing game stats for basketball and softball and would work there from time to time until I was 16.

Glenn would run trips to Yankee Stadium and a few other places and always just sign my name next to his because he knew I’d go. Dad would just give him the money whenever and I’d be on the trip. He became like a 2nd dad to me and it was joked in my family he was like “my other father”.

Sometimes my Dad would buy tickets and give them to him to take me places. We had a lot of fun and there are a lot of stories in my life directly attributed to him.

His job at the rec center was fun and games. He got to sit and talk sports all day and he was a perfect fit because he was like a little kid.

Glenn took a job in another town a few years later when he got passed over for the directors job in favor of a former classmate of his in college. I think I’d leave too.

We lost touch and other than a passing chance meeting he had with my mom, I haven’t seen Glenn in 25 years at least. Recently thru a professional encounter with a friend of his wife’s (a physical therapist), I will hopefully have a chance to see him and say hello. I remember her as well and she was a delightful person too.

It makes for a great anticipation to see someone so important to my young life again.

One really funny story attributed to him had to do with him trying to get some educational credit. Glenn was required for credits to teach a class or directly run a program himself each year for points toward his certification. So one day everyone was checking out the programs at the Rec Center and all got a good laugh.

In his infinite wisdom, he decided to run a weightlifting program. A fit but very slight man, Glenn’s usual weightlifting seemed to be of the 12 oz variety. This was like reading the funny papers. Soon every person who knew him from the rec department was calling up and asking to talk to “Muscles Glenn’...”Glenn Schwartzenegger” ,”Hercules”, “Mr Olympia” and anything else they could think of. Pictures arrived by mail of Glenn’s head pasted to the top of bodies on muscle mags.

People were signing up and paying money just for the opportunity to laugh at him. The class filled up quickly and soon the laughs would be on them.

At the last minute, due to all the jokes and what not, he dropped out and got one of the real local muscle heads to run the class and then they were sorry. The REAL teacher pounded on all the jokester, making them work out big time and yelling at them, exhausting these less than fit people who only signed up to watch what they thought was going to be a joke.

People dropped out and no refunds were offered! Served everyone right!

I can't wait to see him soon and laugh at some of the old stories from a real good influence of my life!

Take a Look Around

RIGHT NOW

What’s On: Yankeeography Catfish Hunter

Current Mood: In Friday Mode

Its Friday morning and I didn’t need a calendar to tell me its Friday morning. My body and mood are telling me what day it is fine. Friday should make you ambitious, full of fight and wanting to cut loose and do something...have some fun, or get something accomplished in your life.

Heheee..no. Friday just means your tired and you want to go home. But you look around home and there is too much to do here too. I want to tear this place apart and start over. We need a whole new everything.

But I look in my wallet and what little bit of ambition I have left is gone. Money would bring me to life! That would help me take a look around and get this place looking like I want it and how it deserves to look.

But where to get it...where you say...well we’ll rob a bank of course...no wait...that won’t work...

Ahh but robbery is the key word. I’ve been getting robbed for years.

Its time to end the party. Its time to take it back, Dave.

Happy Birthday Huntie

RIGHT NOW!

What's On: "You and Me" Lifehouse

Current Attitude: Drained



Happy 18th birthday to Hunter. I can't believe I'm wishing him a happy 18th, I've already known him since he was 12 and its always a pleasure to have him as a friend and someone around who we can help with each others projects.

He's headed off to college and will have a lot going on soon, but we wish him the best in days ahead!

Optimism

RIGHT NOW!

What's on: WEBE 108..Test of the Emergency Alert System
Current Mood: Weary

Its damn hot out.

Pulled off the parkway onto Dixwell Avenue in Hamden heading for my old stomping ground near Southern CT St University where I went to school. Greeted by the Steve Miller Band and then J. Geils Band's "Centerfold" back to back. For a few minutes it was 1982 again. They were fun times.

Today its not the nicest of places, it even had it moments back then.

As I reached my desitination, I must have thought it was still '82. I left my car unlocked, windows open, cell phone and PDA on my seat. (of course neither of those items existed in '82!)I came out 20 minutes later and much to my surprise, both were still there on my seat.

Either this neighborhood has grown soft or maybe things are getting better. I want to believe the latter. Either way, it was a nice day to ride down Dixwell again.

Old songs, the old neighborhood but new technology. No one stole any of it.

Nothing Compares 2 Boo

RIGHT NOW!

What’s On: Fox News, That Greta Lady

Current Attitude: Discouraged

I was with my grandson Mike (Booter) over the weekend. Our visits are like they have always been, except they have a different feel to them now. With him living with his father and not my daughter, I don’t get to see him as much as I used to and I miss him incredibly.

I get to see him once a month and the nice thing is he seems thrilled to see me and often picks things up right where we left off. I could tell he misses me too, but its like he has accepted things this way. I suppose I should too.

Still he has a nostalgic thing to him. He gets in my car and asks to hear the same songs he’s always liked. His favorite is Hall and Oates, “Life’s Too Short” which he calls the “Booter Booter” song because we sing his nickname to it. He always is happy going to the playground, getting a slushie, and lunch.

He still likes the same games we’ve been playing there since he was 2. Its amazing how much he remembers.

Its nice that Booter is still affectionate and now that I don’t get to hug him as much as I used to, when I do now, it means so much more to me. When I hugged him the other day, it felt like I better enjoy it because they aren’t as frequent as they used to be. I simply have never loved another person more than him and I never knew how much you can love someone until he came into my life.

He’s really made my life complete from the day he toddled up to me, grabbed my leg with both arms and looked up to me with the same look he still does from time to time. We have pictures together from his first birthday, he hung with me the whole day.

I remember being at a wake for a family member my daughter went to. She had no babysitter and so I sat with him and kept him company. We sat on the ground and killed a bag of M&M’s, his face was every color. But then he hugged me goodbye and we were tight from then on. A few days later we were at a party and he and I killed a plate of food together. He just kept coming back up to me with his mouth open. He cried when I left.

We spent just about every Friday together after that, sometimes I’d take him home for the weekend. I think he knew when Friday was coming. Its like he knew I was coming over. He’d see my van and bust out of the house to see me. I remember him hearing my voice when he was in his crib and climbing out because he knew I came over, screaming my name.

I remember putting Booter to bed at night sometimes and Emy would put Delilah on the radio for him. As soon as he’d hear her voice, he’d fall asleep. Once he was riding in my van and Delilah was on and he fell asleep. I swear today he’d fall asleep now hearing her voice!

I already have such wonderful memories of the things we’ve done and places we’ve gone. The picture of Booter and me sits next to my computer and burning candle. I look at him everyday and think of the days gone by and ahead. I pray we will have many more memories in front of us!

The Big Meltdown

current song on: “Chariot” Gavin Degraw
current attitude: good

Well I looked outside and it was just as I suspected, all the snow is gone from last winter. I’m ok with that. One of the things that seems finally officially gone from last winter as well, is the weight I put on. It just doesn’t GO away anymore, you have to MAKE it go away. Encourage it to go away, bribe it at times..offer it a deal.

The fact that it is a hundred degrees every day also makes it easier, when every ounce of liquid you have cconsumed in the last 12 years comes out of your body in one day.

There are a million and 4 weight loss plans these days, low carb, high carb, low fat..etc..counting points..you name it

Some people have these diets that they can get all this food and lose weight. . However the only way for me to trim the excess, is to go hungry, which can be fatal, ESPECIALLY for Italian people. Thankfully starvation deaths are down in Italy.

Finding out my cholesterol was high didn’t make me happy, so I embarked on a quest to get it down and if I lost weight in the process, this was a good thing. I walk 2 miles every night for years so this was no problem. The process was easy...eat 7 servings of fruit and veggies a day. The jokes were flying around the office that I had gone south and no fun when it came time to order out. Also trying to tempt me by saying I didn’t actually need to lose weight...which I have been hearing from many. We all know this is the voice of the Devil telling me to eat some cake.

Me, the King of the Candy dish at the office was disappointing everyone. The candy remains, I just have less of it and give more away. Thats a big key, to give away more candy than you eat, this will help you lose weight...Tootsie Rolls don’t count, you have to have 25 of them a day to make 20 fat calories. I can’t eat 25 Tootsie rolls a week!

The process didn’t have immediate results.

However the fruits of my labor, (no pun intended) were really starting to show when I tried on a pair of size 36 pants and they fell right to my knees! SUCCESS! I don’t have a stomach anymore, it has been downgraded to a tummy!

(The 5 grades are:..gut, stomach, tummy, abdomen, abs, anorexia!)

When I was going to my physical therapy clinic I work at on Wednesdays, I walked in and could tell there was a joke going on as two of the more sarcastic PT’s had Satanic expressions on.

“Dave” one starts, “You look really good lately.”

I look suspiciously at them both like I know they are messing around. The other one goes, “Yeah, you look really hot. Nice and trim” Now I know they’re up to something. Then they can’t contain themselves any longer when one goes, “Your hair looks super.” Those who know me minus a Yankee hat know I have no hair. I almost busted out laughing. Then they wanted me to turn around.

“NO!” I told them and then they broke out in hysterics. Another therapist came over and said, “What’s going on?”

“Oh these two worked out a good joke on me!” I laughed.

One replied, “You know we love you right?”

“You must” I answered, “You spent 5 minutes to work out a joke on me before I got here.”

You know I LIVE for negative attention right? Middle kid syndrome.

The next day I came to work and there was a 5 lb bag of candy on my desk. Have I been THAT grouchy that they are trying to tell me something?

None the less, I feel good, whatever I’m doing, its working. After all if it wasn’t, no one would say anything at all!

"7"

Over the last week, HBO has been debuting a movie about the life of Mickey Mantle. I haven’t seen it yet, it hasn’t been on when I can watch it, but I understand it is well made. I also understand they spend a great deal of time on his shortcomings, which are just as much a part of who we are as our good traits.

Mantle was one of those people who never understood why so many people loved him. People admired Mantle and Mantle admired them. He thought he was just a ball player, the important people were the ones who did the hard work and people who were smart. He had that “Aww shucks” Southern way about him. He was almost childlike in his behavior and mannerisms. Yet he was the kind of person who was so unassuming, that he was scared he’d let people down. Mantle’s hook was his simplicity. He was the kind of man who other grown men wrote him fan letters, like a relative of mine.

He reduced talented and cerebrally blessed men like Billy Crystal and Bob Costas to children in his presence to the point where their love and admiration of him, became a central focus of their lives. They loved him as a child and wanted to be him and then as adults, got to live their dream of just being his friend.

Mantle’s life was ruined by his drinking, but everyone who knew him knew he was a tragic figure really.

When I was a little kid, I knew Mickey Mantle was a baseball player, but to me at age 5 or so, I just knew him as the man who ate oatmeal in a Maypo commercial. I had only heard how wonderful he was from others. I never got to see him play a real game.

But like Billy Crystal describes his first visit to Yankee Stadium, he walked in and only had seen it in black and white on TV. The colors came to life when he first came inside as did the player with #7 on his shirt. Mantle signed an autograph for him that day and then hit a home run that nearly left the Stadium altogether. Everything he had heard was true.

I stepped in there in 1972 and went to Old Timers Day. I too fell in love with what I had only seen on black and white TV. The Stadium was old and falling apart, but I loved it just the same. I saw the man with the #7 on his back and all the people around him and my youthful eyes could see the sun shone a little brighter around him.

Mantle had stopped playing a few years earlier, but he would participate in this exhibition game. The players can’t play like they once did, but occasionally you get a glimpse at what once was.

He stepped into the plate to a rousing applause and then took the first pitch and took the swing I always heard he possessed and the ball hit the bat and made a sound I had never heard with my 9 year old ears. My jaw dropped as the ball took off like it had been shot out of a cannon and but I was able to follow it as it went foul.

I thought I would never hear that noise again. I had been watching and playing baseball games for a few years and I never heard a ball hit a bat like that.

I waited for the next pitch, hoping I’d hear that sound again. Mantle didn’t disappoint me, he took his mighty swing and the ball made that unbelievable sound, but this time the ball went for a home run.

As 60,000 people stood and applauded, I watched him round the bases and now knew why everyone loved him. He never let anyone down. Even 4 years after he stopped playing, he still was making people happy. Everything I had heard was true too.

I know there were people in his life that were less than satisfied with him, yet he was so flawed he was perfect if that makes sense. He was perfect in his humaness.

He was one of a kind and why 10 years after his death, people are still talking about him.

An Amazingly Ungraceful Friday

Sometimes you just want to get the week over with, especially while things are going ok. Quit while you’re ahead I always say. Its not a bad thing. However, I don’t get such a luxury. In my office, Friday afternoons are ripe for the pickins, dressed up with a variety of nuts, weirdos and whackadoodles. They just wander in, no appointments and want to be seen right away.

Over the years of doing what I do its become something to expect. Today we had another lulu!

These two 400 lb ladies come in, with a little kid maybe 8 yrs old and weighing about 200 lbs. They want to be seen right away and also want me to see them before others who have appointments. Luckily it hadn’t been too bad and we got the one who needed too be seen in. The three of them were brought into a room, and they filled it rather quickly with size and smell. Bathing obviously wasn’t high on their list.

They spent a few minutes to lecture me on how the world hasn’t learned to make rooms or devices for fat people and how we should all be ashamed of ourselves. I love it when people feel the world needs to conform to them and not that they should help themselves get healthy.

Suddenly out of no where one of their cell phones goes off playing “Amazing Grace”. The lady looked at her cell phone and “DAMMIT! WHAT THE F**K DOES HE WANT..I’M SICK OF HIS G*D DAMN SH*T.”

I couldn’t help thinking while this tender Hymn was playing, this woman was cursing openly and using the name of the Lord in vane! She looks at me and said, “Its my G*D damn husband.”

I look at her and think, “Its married? There’s more than one stupid bastard on this planet I guess.”

She sighs and says, “Probably wants me to pick something up at that fu*kin’ church!”

I left the room and thought to myself, “Ahh Christianity.”

After awhile I got to thinking if I was Jesus and saw who is following Him these days, I think I would’ve demanded at lawyer at my trial.

Thankfully spirituality isn't for the perfect or we'd all be screwed!

Oops..did I say that?

When We Were the World

Its hard to believe today is 20 years since the Live Aid Concert. My daughter Emy and I won the DVD the other day and have been watching it since because I hate the baseball All Star game.

As I watch this video, I remember the day. It was hot as heck in Rhode Island, I spent the day alternating between the concert and the wading pool with then 3 year old Emy. The performers looks just like we last left some of them. This was when they were their most famous and for me, many of them are frozen in time.

That whole period was frozen in time really, but there was nothing frozen about that day. Warmth was the order of the day, not just in the weather, but all around. There was a feel good side to this show on both sides of the pond, at Wembley Stadium and the now razed JFK Stadium in Philadelphia.

I had watched a lot of soccer games from Wembley over the years on video, but this is the way I will always picture Wembley. Full of people cheering the performances of British music icons of the time, hastily assembled to fulfill Bob Geldof’s vision of a fed Africa. Geldof quite brazenly moved this forward and regardless of the PR backlash he received that many people felt this was to advance his own agenda, few could really question Geldof’s heart.

Here in the US, the nice thing about what was going on was that it was now cool to be charitable. The celebs we loved were telling us so. The nice thing was we were getting to see our favorites all pretty much in one day. If there was someone you were a fan of, chances are they performed somewhere that day. Sadly, some of the best performances were lost that day as the media took Geldof at face value in his request that this was supposed to be a one time broadcast, never to be taped or re-broadcast. The Brits didn’t take him seriously, the Americans did. The BBC had just about all the concert available, minus the ones that were lost to disasters of the day. (if you’ve ever worked live TV, you know what I mean)

The majority of the US version was found unceremoniously thrown in a vault at the MTV studios, uncataloged or labled.

I think what amazed me the most about Live Aid was what the whole world could do together if we put our minds to it. It took an entertainment event to get everyone to focus on the same thing. Sadly the world can’t just get together on other things the same way unless we add rock stars.

That day we had a friend over to watch the big event. We drank beer, ate lobster we couldn’t afford and made the most of the day. In retrospect, I now realized that even though we were relatively poor in those days, the fact we could make a day out of a TV concert and chow down, made me realize the importance of what was in front of me.

The saturation of “AID” shows that followed were never held a candle to the master event. As a matter of fact, by 1988 the onslaught of causes that were trying to be saved thru music, almost hurt some musical careers as people began to see them more as high paid activists and not musicians.

The mere fact that 20 years later people still talk about this one is a tribute to how special this day was.

I can remember that as night fell, Emy knew she was going to stay up for Hall and Oates as all the airplay they got at our house made them her fave. They were on tour at the time, unlike many of the other groups, so their performance was much tighter than many other people's. Even after they were done performing with the Temptations that night, she really didn’t want to go to bed. Maybe realizing that even she knew something important was going on.

As the bedtime negotiating process continued, she saw coming on the screen, Lionel Richie. She knew him and screamed.."LIONEL RICHIE...LIONEL RICHIE!"


She knew what would be coming next as he was going to sing her favorite song, the encore for the night, “We are the World.”

She didn’t know what it meant or why anyone was singing it. That kind of thing doesn’t matter to a kid that age.

A full belly of lobster and a night of music was enough to keep her happy. She had no idea how lucky she was, kids just take things for granted.

Twenty years later, we were in the car together when we heard a trivia contest on the radio for Live Aid asking who backed Mick Jagger and Tina Turner at Live Aid. I knew it was Hall and Oates and she placed the call to the radio station and we won the concert video.

The Live Aid concert touched us when it aired and it still does 20 years later. Now we get to live it all over again.

Lobster anyone?

Step On a RAAAAT!

I love my cats...I really do. I have to keep telling myself that. After all they never stop surprising me. They also never stop trying to show me how much they love me and how smart they are.

Cats and chicks have a lot in common, they love you a whole bunch as long as you’re buying!..(*DUCK DAVE DUCK!) Why my cats adore me at feeding time and many times right after they don’t want to interact. Sound familiar? However in the end they only want to make you happy!

Now and then, if you are a cat owner, you know they have to thank you for all the wonderful things you do for them. After all, if you don’t think your cat is grateful, think again. Your cat is more than happy you’re their owner. After all, if you didn’t own them, they’d be stuck on the streets all winter feeding out of garbage cans. You think your cat doesn’t know this? They watch TV, they go online..they know the statistics...what the hell you think they do all day when you’re not home.

I used to have a cat who knew how to put the TV on and they’d be sitting there watching when we came home. Cats know there are very real threats out there. No matter how paranoid you are, they’re more paranoid.

Cats feel like they have to save you from all that life ails you with, especially creatures from the beyond, who the cat is sure is going to invade yours and their way of life.

Birds, squirrels, flies are big threats to you not to mention the other cats in the house are major problems to each cat. They are determined to bring them down and make you proud. Its like your kid bringing home an A! You also have to tell them how wonderful they are.

Of course, everything comes with its own set of drawbacks. For example, while your cat is out chasing birds, the blue jays are taking exception and are plotting to poke your cat square in the ass. Its almost funny to see 3 jays swarming around to wreck your cat who thought he was so cool. Strength in numbers they always say.

Sometimes you are the recipient of the drawbacks. This morning I stepped outside to head out for work and nearly made a header myself as I stepped on and squished a dead rat my beloved cats brought home for me. After I cleaned my shoe off and disinfected it, I went to work thinking this can’t be any kind of a good day if it starts off stepping on a dead rat.

Well on the way to work, listening to the radio, my daughter and I win a Live Aid DVD box set, with me answering the question and her calling in the answer. I get to work to find out my boss had been just telling a few people how good I’ve been to work with and how much they like me there.

If everyday went the way today did...nah, I’ll pass. My shoes still smell bad enough!

Success vs Failure

Our friend Deanna has about 12,578 kids...

As I have stated before it is determined that everyday you get up, there is a better than 1 in 30 chance its one of our friend Deanna’s kids birthdays. Those odds are so good, that really we should just get up and call over there and find out if its anyone’s birthday. Its too hard to keep score of all those birthdays.

Deanna’s house should do what the nursing homes do, and just have a monthly party!

I tried several ways to remember them all. I lost all my date books, wrote myself notes and tied string to my fingers to try to remember. I had so much string tied to me that my hands when numb and almost needed an amputation.

I tried computerizing and getting an e-mail sent to me each time its one of their birthdays. But my mail program simply thought I was being spammed and sent the e-mails to the junk folder and I never got them. I went out and purchased a reminder program and the computer told me I was out of memory. Uh, yeah, that’s why I bought you!

So then we tried the system that Deanna would call Doodle early in the week and invite us to the party. This would give us time to shop for it and be there on time. Then the next Monday, Deanna would call me up all mad saying, “Where the hell were you Saturday?”

“What was Saturday?” I’d reply with a question.

“It was (insert name here) birthday!”

“I didn’t know.”

“Oh, I get it, SHE didn’t tell you.” The scene would repeat itself every other weekend. Deanna would then ask her why we didn’t come over, just to see what she’d say. “Oh HE (meaning me) didn’t want to go over, he was in one of his moods!”

I LOVE kid birthday parties, they are such a blast and kids live for them and it shows. I love CAKE! All you have to tell me its someone’s birthday and I am generally there without dispute.

Deanna knew I wasn’t the one behind the problem. I told her, call ME up the week of a party! So she did. “I’m calling you because the bitch will forget on purpose!”

Yet that week we didn’t forget a birthday. I had us all prepared, got the kid a nice thoughtful gift and showed up with bells on.

After the fun, I said to Deanna, “See how well this works? You call me, here we are...on time...great presents bought..fun had by all?”

I got a filthy look from Doodle, but the truth is the truth. I had to take it further, “See what happens when you tell a Ginny instead of a Polock? Stuff works out huh?”

Sometimes the difference between success and failure is who you tell!

Journey to the Center of a Baseball

A nice early summer day. The day before the 4th of July, I was done cutting my lawn. A little sweat trickled from my head. I sat down in a chair to over look the fine grooming job I did to my grass. I had no where to go this weekend and liked it that way. I remember all the days cutting the lawn when I was young, when my father could catch me to do it.

When the lawn was done back then, I’d sit outside for awhile, listen to the unmistakable sounds of summer. Other neighbors buzzing their lawns or hedge trimmers. Kids playing, my parents probably fighting and me looking for something to lose my mind in.

As I sat there, I remember taking a wrecked baseball and seeing the cover was coming off. While it was sacrilege to tear up a baseball when I was a kid, I wanted to learn all about on. After unwinding what seems like miles and miles of string and yarn of various colors and grades, the middle was just a chunk of rubber. It took almost a half hour to reach the center.

Today as I sat in my chair over looking my lawn, I saw a baseball coming apart and decided to take the long journey that I hadn’t taken in almost 30 years. I began the unwinding process to the same sounds I probably heard years ago.

People working on their lawns, kids playing, some early fireworks and an argument coming from my house.

Doodle comes outside and asks, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Dissecting a baseball, it has been years since I’ve done this.”

“Why are you doing that?”

“Because I can and because I haven’t done this since I was a kid.”

Bri comes outside and sees she’s getting on me and says, “Leave the guy alone, he’s having a rare peaceful moment.”

She walks away as I continued to unravel. As I did, I thought about being a kid and how innocent life was and how much life has changed since I last unwrapped a baseball. I love baseball and I love to see how a baseball ticks.

Things are so different now, I’m the dad now, much of my family has come and gone and no one sees each other as much as they used to. But as I rolled away the miles and miles of string, I finally reached the inside and realized something.

The neighborhood is different, its a different lawn, different neighbors grooming their lawn, different little kids playing and different people arguing in the house. Yet no matter what changes, the middle of the baseball is still the same, just a chunk of rubber.

I also realized I’m pretty blessed to be living some place where I can sit on a Sunday afternoon after cutting my own grass, and unroll a baseball and not worry about anything.

Happy 4th everyone, find something mindless to do. Because you can...

Tim Nunes

A few years back, the web was starting to bust with a new concept, writing portals.

They gave the opportunity to amateur writers to free write everyday, earn some points toward financial rewards and get yourself a new audience as well as possibly attract the attention of someone who could help you get some kind of writing fame.

In essence, we were becoming semi-professional writers, like the semi pro baseball players for $10 and all the beer you can drink.The concept was we would write stories, the website would get advertisers who would pay them and we would either buy products from these advertisers and the site would pay us. Well we weren’t on these sites to buy stuff from advertisers, we were there to write, read and be read. When the advertisers didn’t make money, they pulled their ads.

I joined up, because my website then approaching its 3rd year was still pretty much a friends and family outfit, where that was the extent of my audience. I needed to find out if I was any good, hoping to gain some respect from other writers. Then hopefully I could turn them into fans of my website and me for them as well.

From the day I posted my first story, I knew this was going to change things drastically. My first post was received with huge response and more from there. I gained an interesting following, who also went on to become readers of F@DW.

One of the people in the audience was a short story writer named Tim Nunes. While his stories varied from biographical, to sci-fi and fantasy to mysteries and then some, I saw something of me in his work and he saw something of him in mine. We were vastly different in style, but the meanings were clearly similar.

We were all hanging on to the day when someone important would notice our work, knowing almost none of us would ever see that day. Almost none of us would ever really get paid from these portals. Most of them would go bankrupt before they could get around to paying the writers.

We moved on from portal to portal, not expecting to be paid anymore, just hoping for audience. Thankfully people like Tim were there for me and me for him. As a result of these people, growth in new friends, family and co-workers and many other referrals, my audience quadrupled in 2002 and F@DW became more than a website for myself and many, it was kind of a weekly laugh club where people could be involved and interact.

The other day, I was thrilled to find out, the big call came for Tim Nunes, a story of his was bought and he finally became a professional writer. Long overdue and I can’t be happier for such a great guy and writer. Its a shame its likely not enough for him to quit his day job, but one thing leads to another I hope!

TWO SCOOPS WAY UP FOR TIM!