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For the three of you who might be interested, today’s blog entry is really nothing more than an update on what’s been going on in the wonderful world of the big bad Daddy Hippopotamus. For the rest of you … well, I guess you’ll have to wait ‘til next time.

We’re Movin’ On Up

I hate moving. Hate it. It’s just an exhausting process and I would rather avoid it in the future. As I mentioned a little while back, I’ve now moved to a new place. It’s much smaller than where I’ve been living the past four years and it is a fourth floor walk-up (which is bound to get old after a few more weeks) but the view is magnificent. However, the view was the last thing on my mind as JB and I moved an overly heavy chest-of-drawers across town in a torrential downpour.

Packing up all of my belongings and trashing various things I’ve had for a dozen or so years was, in some ways, a very educational experience. Sometimes it felt like I was throwing important elements of my past away. Sometimes I was shocked to realize that I had held on to meaningless crap for as long as I did. I was literally bombarded with memories (both good and bad) as I cleared out closets and filled boxes. And now as I try to organize the new place and find a home for all that junk it’s like a poor man’s Christmas … “look at all the neat stuff I have!”

You know who loves you when they come and help you move for only a few slices of pizza and beer or two or three. So much thanks must be given to JB, Mel and Rebecca … they spent a lot of hours moving a lot of crap … and they did it all with a smile on their face. Well, except for Mel, who constantly reminded me that I’m hated by both her and God … not necessarily in that order.

Once I get this place in some semblance of order, I guess that’ll be reason to have a house-warming party … so be ready, all of you house warmers.

Crickey! That Was A Surprise!

After moving the last of my stuff on Monday (a nice sunny day) I found myself in a coffee shop watching CNN report on the death of The Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin. What a tragic, tragic loss. I’ve always been a bit of a fan of Steve-o having been first turned on to him by my son Derek. His energy and enthusiasm were infectious and that’s what I admired about him. Granted, there were several times when I thought, “Man, this guy must be on the most intense speed ever!” If only we all could be that excited and passionate about something.

Of course, my thoughts and prayers are with his family … especially his children … and the continuation of the conservation he was so dedicated to. Although I never planned on using the blog to ask folks for money, I hope you will join me in becoming a Wildlife Warrior – the only proper way to honor the man and his work. I imagine there will be more than a few scam-artists out there trying to make a buck on this tragedy, but Wildlife Warriors Worldwide is the only true home to support the protection of injured, threatened or endangered wildlife – from the individual animal to an entire species.

Sad that it took the loss of someone I honestly admired to follow-up on my previous post … support the hippo, support the wildlife. Go on … if I can do it, so can you.

Great & 48

This little blurb appeared in the Daily News a few weeks ago and as a Met fan, I just had to share it:

‘Julio Franco received a cake from Jeff Wilpon and Omar Minaya on the field before the game on his 48th birthday. "Getting older and younger doesn't matter, it's how you feel," Franco said. "Yesterday is the past, tomorrow's the future and today is a gift. ... I woke up this morning, that's the gift. I'm here, I don't want anything else."’

Thanks for the inspiration, Julio Franco. I, too, woke up this morning and that’s a pretty decent little gift. The gifts that I’m not so crazy about is the pulled muscles, aches and pains that still linger in my body from the move … the knee that’s still swollen from carrying a sofa up four flights of stairs, the back pain from lifting boxes of books that weighed more than they should, the stiff neck from spending the other night sleeping on the floor because I hadn’t put my bed together yet.

So, you’re right, Mr. Franco. Today is a gift. Unless you’re moving.