Well even *I* laughed my ass off at the best blond joke ever. Warning: maybe NSFW.

My face is pretty fucked up.

Take a hard look at my picture and you might notice my nose looks slightly off (it was broken three times), a scar running thru my right eyebrow, and a scar above my lip, again on the right. There’s a scar obscured by my hairline on my right forehead, and a scar obscured by my left sideburn.

Yeah, my face is pretty fucked up. End of story. Well not really. Each of those injuries are marks, they have their own stories.

This is the story of the scar on my right eyebrow, the most important one I earned.

Or to put another way, the story of how I met Richelle. And it’s not romantic. It’s crazy and makes me sound like a punk. But it *is* our story.

My brother Dante and me were talking about women. A topic we used to spend plenty of energy discussing. Both of us had been in a few relationships by that time (I think I had just turned 17, he was 15). We were sluts. Not so much intentionally. I would never call either of us a “player”. Far from it. We just lived close to our hearts, not knowing what the next day would bring. Whether we’d even be alive.

Case in point, we were having this discussion on the Broad Street line 15th and Market platform, underneath City Hall. I forget the circumstances of our being there, but they were not good. Things were going bad at home and we were both pretty much on the streets. We were on our way to see a show at the Empire rock club (long gone) in Northeast Philly to blow off some steam.

I had this bad habit of being too hard on Dante. He was a bit more fast and lose with women then I thought was healthy. Part of that was his charm – women seemed (still are) naturally attracted to him – and I always had to work a bit harder then to get attention. That was the focus of the discussion – how I had come up with a new plan to pick up somebody.

My plan: Bum a cigarette. No really! I explained that if I asked some girl for a smoke, I could instantly judge if I had a chance. So afraid was I of rejection. I get taged as an extrovert (Keirsey says I’m an ENFP), but I’m truly a social cripple. Going to something as simple as our monthly blogger meetups gets me nervous and I avoid public speaking. This would give me a way to pre-judge safely and to start a conversation.

Dante was incredulous. I didn’t smoke. Smoking sucks. But I had an earlier experience smoking, when I was around 12, that one of my mom’s boyfriends “cured” me from – he forced me to smoke an entire pack – one smoke after another. It was ugly. So I knew I could pull it off without looking like a fuckwad. And notice how many women smoke? It’s too easy a conversation starter.

Anyways, we trek to the show. The headliner is a glam band called Bang Tango. Metal with funky bass groove. The kinda thing you normally dance to. Or at least spend some time with a women too. Not to headbang. Not to mosh.

The Empire was a small club. Intimate. You were right up in the band’s face normally. Well, in their crotches at least. Short stage height. Tonight there were plenty of women here. Glam bands attracted them like nothing else back in the day.

There were quite a few cute ones as well. Two of them in particular. Sisters. Both of which Dante started to pick on immediately. They were standing in front of us, their hair was high – real, real high. One of which, he patted her hair down (dude is short), and made a crack. I think she made a remark right back. She, in particular, was something. Hot. Tight flannel shirt. Was that a Poison T underneath? High-heeled boots. Tight jeans. Bright smile, nice legs, and an ass that didn’t quit. There was something about her. Indeed, when she turned around to respond to Dante, and I saw her face and heard her voice, I felt something in my chest I didn’t recognize.

Before you know it, the show started. And Dante and me started a mosh. This is *not* the style music you normally do that to. This was too small a place. But what the hell. We had that steam to blow off remember. A few joined and the typical circle you would see form at a thrash or speed metal concert grew. The band fed off it. Got aggressive. It was good.

Then wham! Some dude attempted to headbut me and instead put his teeth into my eyebrow. Blood ran down my face.

Rock n’ roll ya know. It hurts. But I didn’t feel it all that much. Dante looked concerned. I couldn’t see how bad it was. He asked how I felt. Ran and grabbed a cup of ice. Then asked the cute girl for her bandana. She looked with some form of combined horror/sympathy/sarcasm at me and gave him the bandana. We soaked it in ice and wrapped my forhead.

And I continued to mosh.

Look, I had no health insurance. Didn’t know if I was going to live past tomorrow. Didn’t feel much pain. I had no idea the thing would scar like that.

Besides, that girl was cute.

After the show we made it early outside to see the band pack the bus. They said thanks for the pit. They never knew Philly could be like that and never had a show with so much energy in the audience.

I kept an eye out for those two girls. When they passed by I asked the one who had given her bandana for a smoke.

Indeed there was something special about her. That next month I ended the rest of my relationships, unbeknownst to her – I couldn’t think of seeing someone else while seeing her. She forced me to fall in love, even if I thought I didn’t want to and was frightened of it.

She got me thinking about tomorrow. And I know you know that the feeling in my chest was my heart. It still feels the same way whenever I look at her, talk to her, think of her.

The funny thing is, Richelle’s parents would long think it was my fault she smoked, but the reality was different as you can see. I quit just a few years ago. Richelle still does.

If you’re reading – love ya baby.

My back’s been hurting worst recently. Admittidly I haven’t been doing my exercises the way I should, but they were discouraging when I did. The pain would never go away (scale of 1 to 10, I’d say always a 2 and sometimes a 5). Now I’m always a 3-4 and sometimes a 6. So it helped. But not much.

Anyways, good news from the doc is that there has been no progression in my state: I have unstable type II spondylolisthesis, same as before and it’s not degenerative.

I just need to get back on the bandwagon and exercise. It sucks, because long term, I know I won’t be able to keep pace with this. It’s only a matter of time. But as of now – I’d be lieing if I said I was in overwhelming pain. Additionally, I have none of the symptoms that are truely frightening, like numbness of the legs, or pain while walking. In fact, my pain comes on stronger while standing in one place and moving little if at all, like standing in line, shaving, doing dishes.

Someday I should share with you how I think I did this to myself. It’s funny. Well not really. But I can laugh at myself. That’s what counts.

Many times, words fail me, and this is one of those times. CNN: Miner’s final note: ‘Tell all I’ll see them on the other side’.

Thoughts and prayers for those who went thru this.

Lots of folks are going gaga over thoughts big thinkers have shared at The Edge Foundation when it asked: “What is your dangerous idea?”.

The most radical answer to that question I have heard, and I’m not sure it is represented there (I have some reading to do) is Dave Rogers’s who has echoed a point over the years (I can say that now – we old ETPers are ancient in web terms…): The way to subvert hierarchy is to admit: “I’m not in control.” None of us is. Even those at the very top..

I’ve never bought into this 100%. Ultimately, it maybe true, but I don’t like where it leads me. It doesn’t seem to recognize the effects of choice, free will, love, compassion *or* passion in its equation. It’s cold. It’s unconfortable. And, yes, it’s dangerous. But in a very good way – even though I don’t like to think about the idea – I know the value in doing so.

I want to go meditate now. Off to work.

And here’s to 2006!

I hate lists, I love lists. Ever see “High Fidelity”? There’s a little of that in all of us. So with that caveat, here goes what I thought was notable in the news of 2005…

1. From the Boxing Day Tsunami to Rita and Katrina, mother nature showed how ineffectual we are to stand her wrath. In response people gave a lot – in record amounts sums were raised and volunteers went into action. But time is passing and Katrina raised questions that go unanswered: If we could not be prepareded to handle hurricane relief with days warning – what of a terrorist attack? And is that level of poverty acceptable in America? Anywhere in the world?

2. Speaking of which, Live 8 helped refocus hearts and minds on poverty as a world wide fight. AOL’s coverage of Live 8 was notable and may be looked back on as a turning point in streaming video.

3. There was an election in Iraq. A great thing. A sign of progress. Then again, it’s an election that brought it closer in alignment to Iran. Speaking of which….

4. The President of Iran revealed himself a raving war-monger.

5. Bin Laden – still free. The American people? Revealed less so.

6. Pope John Paul II passes. Joseph Alois Ratzinger is named Pope Benedict XVI.

7. The mass media is dead. While this New York Times article is focused on music, the same trends are on the move in TV broadcasting, radio, newspapers, movies – all forms of mass entertainment and news. If something can be transmitted digitally – delivered over the net – and there is a social aspect to it (what doesn’t have that?) – it will feel these effects. Participatory, on demand – media and software – were the story of the web this year – and will continue to be into the next.

8. Fox buying MySpace for $580m, and MySpace’s terrific growth, are but a precursor of what’s to come (think distributed) but it definitely opened the eyes of many.

9. Digg, del.icio.us, and Memeorandum exemplified new ways to share and get the news. All largely thanks to RSS and its ubiquity.

10. There is a growing realization that while we are gaining much in terms of choice and personal control – we are losing more than we thought:

10.1 Following announcements of Knight Ridder’s self-destructive, staff slashing buyouts, and rumors of a sell off that might lead to the Philadelphia Daily News’s closing – the Daily News’s Will Bunch posts a courageous request for conversation – The New Philadelphia Experiment: Saving the Daily News. Challenging the notion that paper is product, he coins the phrase “norg”, short for news organization. His ongoing series, and conversation among many big thinkers, implementors, and pundits, that is largely being chronicled on Philly Future is a must read. It has been painful following so many great writers leave both papers these past two months. It has been said that newspapers used to write the ‘first draft’ of history. Speaking of which….

10.2 Users editing their own bios and histories at Wikipedia lead Dave Winer to ask: “we need to determine what authority means in the age of Internet scholarship. And we need to take a step back and ask if we really want the participants in history to write and rewrite the history. Isn’t there a place in this century for historians, non-participants who observe and report on the events?”

10.3 The coverage of Katrina, in particular from The Times-Picayune, showed just what news organizations can do at times of crisis. The the good and bad of it will be a topic of discussion for a long time to come. But hopefully the work of The Times-Picayune doesn’t get lost in in the debate.

11. All systems – even systems where control is seemingly passed to the edges – can be – and will be – gamed.

12. Web 2.0shmo. “Web 2.0” looked like to be a phrase that defined participatory, control pushed out the edges, social software and media. Now it is a marketing slogan used by firms that want to flip. In anycase, there were a large number of efforts this year that exemplified using the web and the net itself as the platform for software and media. From Google Maps mashups to Yahoo!’s embrace of social web services – the old Sun slogan – “the network is the computer” and my raving to fellow software engineers at work years ago – “the URL is the command line, the URL is the command line!” – has come to fruitition. And that has concerned the old guard.

13. Speaking of the old guard – Microsoft is no longer looked at as the evil empire – it’s Google. Imagine that.

14. Democrats start to realize, they aren’t top dog in the blogosphere.

15. The troubles with Diebold and electronic voting machines start to make waves in the media – finally!

16. Podcasting got big. Then didn’t. Videocasting on the other hand….

17. There is a growing realization that Wal-Mart and organizations that use practices like it, might just be bad for America. I guess that counts upon your point of view however – doesn’t it?

18. 80s-style Metal is back. It might not be called it, but it’s definitely back. See YouTube: Children Of Bodom – In Your Face Music Video, Coheed and Cambria (listen to Welcome Home) and Avenged Sevenfold. Soaring vocals, guitar solos, lyrics about evil. Yes indeed. So there.

19. The Philadelphia blogosphere rocks. Gothamist, Metroblogging both launched blogs in our area to compete with Philly’s home grown Philebrity. The Daily News, Inquirer (and) and the Philadelphia Weekly have let lose terrific writers as bloggers that show not only do they get the medium – they’ve embraced it. PhillyBurbs.com has some of the most popular ones in our region. And most important – a huge number of independent voices have joined us online as our growing monthly meetups show a glimmer of.

20. The Eagles made it to the Super Bowl! and lost. And we’re not going back for a long time. Thanks to big egos and greed getting in the way.

21. Philly rocks! The news has been non-stop about our fair city and how it is now a tourist, business, residential, and buzz destination. Meanwhile, just outside of Center City, gun deaths climb at an extreme rate. Philly has always been a city of small neighborhoods, very distinct from each other, yet connected. Lets hope the prosperity the core is starting to enjoy spreads past Fishtown, to Kensington, past Old City, to South Philly, past University City, to West Philly, past Spring Garden to North Philly.

If I were to compile a personal list of notables…

1. My wife graces my life still.

2. My friends and family are still together and healthy.

3. I’m still am decently healthy. Knock on wood. Still need to do something about my back.

4. I’ve started to go to college. Next class begins in January.

5. I’ve played two shows in one year. Wow. Can we do three next?

6. I’m still at Comcast. And I’m getting happier here believe it or not. It’s a good place to work with some huge challenges, opportunities to tackle, working with some great people.

7. The Philly blogosphere rises. Philly Future and the team of volunteers helping maintain it rock. New partners. New friends.

8. I decided last year to be far more bold in 2005. To not restrict myself in reaching out. I’ve done that. I need to do some more.

I’m notoriously shy, so it’s with hesitation I put a thumbnail pic of my recent self up here in a spot where folks can see it. However, I think it’s become a kind of necessity. I’ve started to meet many folks who I talk to online, and this can help mitigate the shock some folks have putting a face to the voice.

stormtrack: The Boxing Day Tsunami of 2004

Yahoo!: Year in Review 2005

Yahoo!: 2005 Top Searches

Shelley Powers: Year in Pictures

Philly Future: thebmrant: Matt’s Favorite 20 Albums of 2005 (and some I hated)

Philly Future: Blackmail Is My Life: Weekendered – Best Live Music: Philadelphia’s Top 5 of 2005

Philly Future: thebmrant: Best of 2005–Favorite Philly Shows This Year

John Battelle: Predictions 2006

Jason Calacanis: My Predictions for 2006

Dave Winer: 2006 predictions

Ray Ozzie: Looking back, looking forward

Wired: 2005’s 10 Sexiest Geeks

It’s 12:04 AM now. The start of a new day. My brother Dante’s family has just left, along with my brother Steve, after a great dinner that Richelle put together. I’m looking forward to a good night’s sleep and waking up with her, and Xena our puppy. Drinking coffee together. Opening gifts. Going to church. Then spending the day with her family.

I used to hate Christmas. To me it was a holiday that could only be enjoyed by those who had ‘normal’ lives – people with functioning families – which mine was not. My memories of Christmas past are filled with Salvation Army Santas visiting us, with credit cards driving my mom to bankruptcy, of a sense of what we did not have – of greed.

So if Christmas is about being joyful with no reason to it – then from the perspective I came from – it was bullshit. Like the line in “I Will Buy You A New Life” says: I hate those people who love to tell you, Money is the root of all that kills, They have never been poor, They have never had the joy of a welfare christmas

So here I am now – with a paying job – with a family as normal as one can get – and I am thankful. I don’t feel I deserve to be this blessed. I struggle with that sometimes. But most important – it’s only from *this* perspective that I can see that if a sad soul like myself can make it to a place like this – then anyone can. That God has a place for all of us. Something I most certainly didn’t believe as a kid.

via Slacktivist came a reminder of “My Advent Adventure”, by Anne Lamott. A good read, it influenced this post, a reminder of what Christmas is about:

All of a sudden, the man in front of me soils himself. I guess his sphincter just relaxes. Shit runs down onto his shoes, but he keeps walking. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“However, I do. I clapped a hand over my mouth and nose, and my eyes bugged out but I couldn’t get out of line because of the crush behind me. And so, holding my breath, I walk into the windowless, airless room.

“Now, this meeting has a greeter, which is a person who stands at the door saying hello. And this one is a biker with a shaved head, a huge gut and a Volga boatman mustache. He gets one whiff of the man with shit on his shoes and throws up all over everything.

“You’ve seen the Edvard Munch painting of the guy on the bridge screaming, right? That’s me. That’s what I look like. But Terry enters theroom right behind me. And there’s total pandemonium, no one knows what to do.The man who had soiled himself stumbles forward and plops down in a chair. A fan blows the terrible smells of shit and vomit around the windowless room,and people start smoking just to fill in the spaces in the air. Finally Terry reaches out to the greeter, who had thrown up. He puts his hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Wow,” he says. “Looks like you got caught by surprise.” And they both laugh. Right? Terry asks a couple of guys to go with him down the hall to the men’s room, and help this guy get cleaned up. There are towels there, and kitty litter, to absorb various effluvia, because this is a meeting where people show up routinely in pretty bad shape. So while they’re helping the greeter get cleaned up, other people start cleaning up the meeting room. Then Terry approaches the other man.

“My friend,” he says gently, “it looks like you have trouble here.”

The man just nods.

“We’re going to give you a hand,” says Terry.

“So three men from the recovery house next door help him to his feet, walk him to the halfway house and put him in the shower. They wash hisclothes and shoes and give him their things to wear while he waits. They give him coffee and dinner, and they give him respect. I talked to these other men later, and even though they had very little sobriety, they did not cast this other guy off for not being well enough to be there. Some how this broken guy was treated like one of them, because they could see that he was one of them. No one was pretending he wasn’t covered with shit, but there wasa real sense of kinship. And that is what we mean when we talk about grace.

“Back at the meeting at the Episcopal Cathedral, I was just totally amazed by what I had seen. And I had a little shred of hope. I couldn’t have put it into words, but until that meeting, I had thought that I would recover with men and women like myself; which is to say, over educated, fun to be with and housebroken. And that this would happen quickly and efficiently. But I was wrong. So I’ll tell you what the promise of Advent is: It is that God has set up a tent among us and will help us work together on our stuff. And this will only happen over time.

“For you, Crabby Miss, and for me; together, over time.”

Merry Christmas. May there be peace on earth and good will towards all.