Got some interesting news today. I guy totally un-related to me, but who is in my family, died yesterday. He was 64, AND had a toddler. The toddler found him, which makes my heart hurty. His wife was a couple years older than me, so it was a May - December thing.

The guy is my Step-Mother's Ex-Husband, But They All Remained Friends. I've vacationed with them all a couple of times. I wasn't exactly fond of him. Mostly I looked forward to seeing his wife, because she's hot. That was when I was single. He was kind of boorish, very old-school good ol' boy. He berated me once for beating him at poker and taking his money. I had to explain the logic of keeping track of what's been dealt.

Then there was the time he told 5G our car was a "n----" car. He was from West Virginia.

The sad part is that he was the most refined of that gang. There's the couple, both in prison, who left their ADHD kid with the grandparents, who pop a pill in him...

Apartment secured. I could move in tonight, which is tempting because the AC gave out at the place I'm sharing now.

When I got to work this morning, our newspaper website was down, which is unfortunate because I get most of my info from there. Our ME is trying to roust our provider from bed, which could be difficult considering he's a serious party boy. I have to repect somebody who can get stoned, have meaningless sex with a stranger, go to bed at 3am, and then build an excellent business model website by noon.

Funplex is playing right now. Once again I'm reminded that Kate Pierson is 60. AND she's living with her girlfriend. I have to assume at this point that the sexing of Kate will just not happen. Officially, she's bi, but I think she's passed the point of no return.

But still, those nude pics of her that popped up on the net? 60? How is that possible? I think I'd still hit it. (writer is domesticated and would not really...

I'm looking at an apartment today. It's about 20m from work, in the middle of thick tree patches, farmland, and the Chesapeake Bay. It's cheap to boot. The town is technically an island, at the confluence of the York and Poquoson rivers.

To get there, you go over a huge drawbridge, then you're on the ground for about a half mile, then another huge bridge takes you to the middle peninsula.

It sounds swanky and tropical, but it's really a factory town. Everybody who works in this town works at the chip mill. However, just like rural eastern North Carolina, there are McMansions popping up here and there. It's prime sailing territory.

After rooming with a couple people this month, I'm looking for the sweet release of solitude. John Cowper Powys was right. As was Sartre. L'enfer, c'est les autres.

Reading Supple Cow's recent post reminded me of my own sabbatical from humanity, online and IRL. We moved here for 5G to take advantage of her advanced degree and job opportunities. I quit my job, in hopes to latch on to NPR or the two public radio stations here.

What happened was I latched on to ABC radio. Specifically, talk radio. The folks who used to bring you Sean Hannity, Rush Limbaugh, Mark Levin. While I appreciated the technical equation of the position, the programming was not my cup of tea. So I left there to have my own news hour on a DC talk station. Which was cancelled when new owners took over.

During all this, I was increasingly unhappy. Miserable. Hate. When that chapter was drawing to a close, I began to come out from under the fog. I think it was the realization we have a baby on the way that shook me loose. When I heard that first heart beat.

Now, I'm back in management, at a very anti-corprate radio station. Company attire...