I'm Sorry... WHAT?!?

I don't know if you've seen this article or not, so I thought I would bring it to your attention (pointing to one person reading this blog). The title of the article itself is confusing, so I'll clarify it for you: Keith Richards: 'I snorted my father'. I thought it was a typo... but the story is actually exactly what the title makes it out to be. Apparently, Keith Richards (the geriatric guitarist of the Rolling Stones) decided it was far too tempting to have a cremated father lying around without mixing him with a little cocaine and snorting him up. To quote the article: "He was cremated and I couldn't resist grinding him up with a little bit of blow. My dad wouldn't have cared," he said. "... It went down pretty well, and I'm still alive."
WHAT?! Seriously, who does something like this? This goes so far beyond drug addiction that it can't even see normal drug addicts with binoculars. Who says to themselves "Man, I really need to snort my dad"? Perhaps the worst part is that now, after snorting his father, Keith Richards constantly smells Old Spice and fishing tackle.
What? Shouldn't end with an 'old men smell' joke? How about this one: Perhaps the worst part is that now, after snorting his father directly into his cranium, Richards can't get his father's voice out of his head. Richards goes on to say, "I keep hearing a voice that tells me I'll never do anything with myself if I keep playing the 'damn guitar'."

Grace Angelina

On last Thursday, March 29th, my sister gave birth to a healthy baby girl who they named after my paternal grandmother, Grace. She was seven pounds seven ounces... which means absolutely nothing to me, but people kept repeating her weight as if those are magical numbers. I'll tell you what a magical number is: One. As in I am now the number one uncle on the planet Earth. Eat it, Uncle Ben!!!
Both mother and daughter are fine even though Grace was born with the umbilical cord around her neck (apparently happens in 1 of 5 births! Staggering). She was the most alert baby that most of the staff had ever seen... constantly trying to figure out who these people were and what was going on. She also likes to lick things.
I was granted a grand total of ten minutes with just her and me (at least that's how it felt, as everyone else was making sure my sister was alright). She was upset that her mom wasn't around and then I started stroking her cheek... very softly, very gently, with one pointer-finger. Amazingly, this calmed her down. It was the most spectacular thing ever... so visceral, so immediate. There I was, making another human being feel safe and loved, and having her respond to it with such honesty and instinct. She wasn't being nice to me because I'm funny and nice and make her laugh... she was responding positively because I actually made her feel better. If only all my relationships with women were this easy.
Please keep mother and daughter in your thoughts and prayers... and hope there won't be a war waiting for her when she's 18.


This picture was actually taken with my cell phone. How lame is that? In my defense, my camera decided that, even though I had been charging the battery all day, it was going to die on me after about two seconds... so my phone was the only option I had. Here, my mom holds her new granddaughter... already thinking of ways to spoil this girl. I know a way I'm going to spoil her. Three words: Horse. Riding. Lessons.