<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680</id><updated>2011-12-10T15:53:35.703-08:00</updated><category term='jokes'/><category term='rules'/><category term='dashboard confessional'/><category term='lessons'/><category term='relationship'/><category term='comedy'/><category term='death'/><category term='deathcab for cutie'/><category term='epiphany'/><category term='Dad'/><category term='change'/><category term='status'/><category term='strategy'/><category term='self'/><category term='updates'/><category term='leadership'/><category term='emotion'/><category term='family'/><category term='internet'/><category term='high school'/><category term='react'/><category term='work'/><category term='past'/><category term='young'/><category term='kids'/><category term='social network'/><category term='humor'/><category term='friends'/><category term='growing up'/><category term='promotion'/><category term='facebook'/><category term='knowledge'/><category term='New Order'/><category term='mortality'/><category term='staff'/><category term='information'/><category term='reunion'/><category term='jasmine'/><category term='order'/><category term='music'/><category term='old flame'/><category term='time'/><category term='life'/><category term='online'/><category term='parents'/><category term='friendship'/><category term='human behavior'/><category term='peter pan'/><category term='patience'/><category term='time travel'/><category term='the fray'/><category term='health'/><title type='text'>The Voices Inside My Head</title><subtitle type='html'>Musings, Observations, and the like...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>23</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-8709947099065141325</id><published>2011-03-22T23:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-10T15:49:01.833-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='human behavior'/><title type='text'>Surreality</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;There are days that just seem a bit surreal and then there are days that truly do turn out that way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;It's not often that Life shows you it's extremes in such short fashion, but when it does, it does with utmost clarity. Very recently I had the misfortune of having to deliver life altering news to people I respect and have been working with for a very long time. Delivering that news was not the best day of my life. But in stark contrast to that morning, I went home and proceeded to help my daughter make a "leprechaun trap" for school. The absurdity of the day didn't hit me until days later as I recounted the day to a friend.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;How, on one hand, can I be the cold messenger of (professional) death, and then hours later be making a fantastical contraption for a mythical creature. But such is Life. One minute you are making adults swear at your name, and the next, you are making children smile.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;I can only reconcile this with the knowledge that there, laid out in the full spectrum of a day, was Life showing me it's capacity. Fear. Hate. Anger. Love. Laughter. Acceptance. All in one sunrise.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Some lessons are subtle can be subtle and hard to decipher. This one was like a hammer to the head.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"&gt;Appreciate it all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-8709947099065141325?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/8709947099065141325/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2011/03/surreality.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/8709947099065141325'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/8709947099065141325'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2011/03/surreality.html' title='Surreality'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-943863251856068684</id><published>2010-09-22T22:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-23T20:46:08.593-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='emotion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='deathcab for cutie'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dashboard confessional'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the fray'/><title type='text'>Song as Emotion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;There was a time in my youth where song lyrics played an important part in how I was able to communicate emotion and feeling. Back then, the lyrics were proxies for my expression. Today, thankfully, I've matured enough that I am able to communicate feelings, emotions, and thoughts without the crutch of someone else's words. But still, there are times when the mood and lyrics of a song still elicit a deep emotion. It's odd because the song is relatable, maybe not directly, but in some deep core human way. No longer do I live the days of pining for someone or working my way through a heartache, but hearing that emotion in someone else's voice - especially in song, seems to hit a visceral note. Back then the word-play of artists like &lt;a href="http://www.itsmorrisseysworld.com/"&gt;Morrissey&lt;/a&gt; (&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Smiths"&gt;The Smiths&lt;/a&gt;) and Robert Smith (&lt;a href="http://www.thecure.com/"&gt;The Cure&lt;/a&gt;) were enough send my mind reeling with thoughts of love, tragedy, and every other emotion under the sun. Of late, the songs that do this seem be to slow. ballad-style executions. Listening to &lt;a href="http://www.thefray.net/"&gt;The Fray&lt;/a&gt;'s "How to Save A Life", &lt;a href="http://www.dashboardconfessional.com/"&gt;Dashboard Confessional&lt;/a&gt;'s "Vindicated", or even something a little off like &lt;a href="http://www.deathcabforcutie.com/"&gt;Deathcab for Cutie&lt;/a&gt;'s "Crooked Teeth" have the same effect. And yet, a rocking chorus from the likes of &lt;a href="http://www.311.com/"&gt;311&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.blink182.com/"&gt;Blink-182&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.sum41.com/"&gt;Sum 41&lt;/a&gt;, or &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/newfoundglory"&gt;New Found Glory&lt;/a&gt; can also bring out core emotion. I find the influence is so strong, that listening to certain songs while driving actually affect how I drive. Yes, very scary.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;There is something powerful in song. It reaches deep into the soul and connects on a level that is both cerebral (with the lyrics) and emotional (with the orchestration). Done correctly, those songs stay with you - and more importantly, shape you as you grow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-943863251856068684?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/943863251856068684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2010/09/song-as-emotion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/943863251856068684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/943863251856068684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2010/09/song-as-emotion.html' title='Song as Emotion'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-1895979586327670637</id><published>2010-06-21T22:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-21T22:20:25.107-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jasmine'/><title type='text'>Jasmine</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;You know how there are some things that just remind you of home? I have mine (sorta).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's one thing that reminds me I'm &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;almost&lt;/span&gt; home. The City of Los Angeles planted night blooming jasmine in the median on the offramp of my exit. By the time I'm getting home, the jasmine is in full bloom (for the night). The sweet scent reminds me that I'm about to see my wife and kids. Smelling that after a long, stressful haul on the freeway signals the journey is just about done - and consequently, calms me and relieves any stress. I now make it a point to roll down the window as I exit the freeway so as to not miss my scented signal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny how we literally have to stop and smell the flowers in order to remember what's important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-1895979586327670637?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/1895979586327670637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2010/06/jasmine.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/1895979586327670637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/1895979586327670637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2010/06/jasmine.html' title='Jasmine'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-3180355203750897221</id><published>2010-03-21T20:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T20:33:41.996-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='high school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knowledge'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='human behavior'/><title type='text'>What we pass on</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;There are many things we pass on to our kids... some on purpose and some by accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids are like a sponge and &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; do absorb all around them. It's fascinating to see my kids speaking in tones that I use and picking up on mannerisms that I do. Fascinating, and at the same time scary, I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's the little things that amaze, though. As a teenager, I lived on &lt;a href="http://www.arbys.com/"&gt;Arby's&lt;/a&gt; sandwiches. The "5 for 5" deal was made for high school kids - especially since it was down the street from our high school. The wife is not a big fan, so years go by before I get a roast beef sandwich with Horsie and Arby sauce. This weekend, we got Arby's for the family. My son devoured his sandwich and declared it was, "delicious!" With that proclamation I realized I had passed on a little bit of me. The moment was not lost on the wife either as she observed, "Are you glad he likes Arby's like his dad?" That got me thinking of what other non-life-lesson type stuff we pass on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My morning drive to drop off the oldest daughter allows us to share some music time together. Time was where she'd control the playlist - the usual fare - Disney favorites, &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Singable-Songs-Collection-Raffi/dp/B0000003IO"&gt;Raffi&lt;/a&gt;, etc. These days, we've moved on to more sophisticated bands, like &lt;a href="http://www.owlcitymusic.com/home.aspx"&gt;Owl City&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://www.keanemusic.com/"&gt;Keane&lt;/a&gt;. She even has a healthy appreciation for 80's music, with her favorites being &lt;a href="http://www.cyndilauper.com"&gt;Cyndi Lauper&lt;/a&gt;'s "Time after Time" and The &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eurythmics"&gt;Eurythmics&lt;/a&gt;' "Sweet Dreams."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's taking all that in that you realize how much we influence our kids - both knowingly and unknowingly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-3180355203750897221?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/3180355203750897221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2010/03/what-we-pass-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/3180355203750897221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/3180355203750897221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2010/03/what-we-pass-on.html' title='What we pass on'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-7706565586045303264</id><published>2010-03-15T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T22:15:37.904-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='young'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>The Littlest Teachers</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;There are many things I feel I have taught my kids. I never realized how much they'd actually teach me as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a short list of what my little teachers have passed on so far:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You can find wonder and joy in the smallest things - you just need to take the time to look.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Don't take things so seriously - silliness is an under-appreciated trait.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Imagination outweighs logic any day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Learn to enjoy the simple pleasures of life - like a nice PB&amp;amp;J with milk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;There's magic in a hug and a kiss - it can cure all that aches.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;And most importantly...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Don't worry so much. Tomorrow's a new day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-7706565586045303264?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/7706565586045303264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2010/03/littlest-teachers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/7706565586045303264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/7706565586045303264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2010/03/littlest-teachers.html' title='The Littlest Teachers'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-8638641175835683739</id><published>2010-03-14T16:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T21:26:41.735-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='strategy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lessons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='react'/><title type='text'>Life is a game show</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;What do you do when all life seems to send you is questions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Answer them, of course. The better answer, though, is maybe to just wait. There's a huge difference between taking quick action and reacting. Taking action requires forethought and decisiveness. Reacting is instinctual, and not premeditated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In life, the best decisions are made with thought. I've made it a point in my life to try not to be reactive. When things seem to not be going your way, you have to learn to roll with the punches - but more importantly, read the situation as a whole. I recently had a friend ask, "How can you be so calm? How can you &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; be mad?" The answer was simply, "It's not worth it." And that's the truth. You have to be able to filter the important from the trivial. The stuff that really matters from the stuff you can let slide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once you've mastered that, you can outlast them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-8638641175835683739?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/8638641175835683739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2010/03/life-is-game-show.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/8638641175835683739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/8638641175835683739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2010/03/life-is-game-show.html' title='Life is a game show'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-703251255934727992</id><published>2009-10-27T21:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T22:06:46.419-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='humor'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='comedy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jokes'/><title type='text'>Things Ain't Like They Used To Be</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Why can't things be like in the old days...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I watched &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monty_Python_and_the_Holy_Grail"&gt;Monty Python and The Holy Grail&lt;/a&gt; the other night, I realized that they just don't make comedies like they used to. Even the old &lt;a href="http://looneytunes.kidswb.com/"&gt;Warner Bros. Looney Tunes&lt;/a&gt; cartoons have been sanitized on TV. I was listening to the dialogue from a Daffy Duck cartoon while driving - the kids were watching it on the van's DVD - and it struck me that these days comedy has been dumbed down... a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I grew up watching &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Benny_Hill"&gt;Benny Hill&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.threestooges.com/"&gt;The Three Stooges&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.marx-brothers.org/"&gt;The Marx Brothers&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.bobhope.com/"&gt;Bob Hope&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monty_Python"&gt;Monty Python&lt;/a&gt;. These comic geniuses taught me timing, slapstick, spit-takes, and comedy, in general. But what I really learned was the value of good word play. I learned that the nuances of the English language could be used to make people smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How are kids these days going to learn that? Comedies today are about farts and dumb jokes. If only comedies these days could be written with adults in mind (comedies that kids then could grow in to). The best comedy is one where the viewer learns more with each viewing. Jokes that went over my head as kid, now make me laugh out loud (literally).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why I vow to instruct my kids in the ways of the comedy giants that preceded us. It's not only my duty to comedy, but a decision to continue a way of life. In the end, comedy &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is&lt;/span&gt; where you find it... but you do need to know where to look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-703251255934727992?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/703251255934727992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/10/things-aint-like-they-used-to-be.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/703251255934727992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/703251255934727992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/10/things-aint-like-they-used-to-be.html' title='Things Ain&apos;t Like They Used To Be'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-6957312075568729180</id><published>2009-09-17T22:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T22:59:41.682-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rules'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='human behavior'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='order'/><title type='text'>Human Nature</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;It's amazing how trained we become as humans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always marveled at the laws of human nature that govern our behavior. We feel a need to conform. No where is this more apparent than on the drive in to work. Multi-ton vehicles race across freeways and highways, and the only thing separating them from becoming a demolition derby is a few painted lines on asphalt. The yellow lines mean one thing. White another. And broken lines yet something more. These invisible restraints keep order (and rightfully so). Can you imagine if everyone suddenly disregarded the painted lines? (If you've driven in Mexico, you don't need to imagine.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wondered when did we learn this behavior and it occurred to me that it starts at a very early age. Not only do we learn rules of behavior and manners, we learn to conform to what the crowd does. School is a major area of conformity and rules. I watch my daughter, fresh from her first days of kindergarten, as she now raises her hand to interrupt a conversation. Something unimaginable a few weeks earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a certain comfort in knowing that there is a sense of order and that people can be counted on to behave in a certain way. How many times have you been annoyed by "rude" people? The rudeness is generally someone not behaving like the crowd. The comfort I take in this human behavior is knowing that (for the most part) people will stay in their own lanes and that people will (predominately) be courteous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet, people will be people. As with everything in life, you take the good with the bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-6957312075568729180?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/6957312075568729180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/09/human-nature.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/6957312075568729180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/6957312075568729180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/09/human-nature.html' title='Human Nature'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-1565916362898330148</id><published>2009-07-15T22:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T22:46:46.627-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Progeny or legacy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"I hope my kids don't turn out like me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was a phrase uttered recently by a friend of mine. It got me thinking of how I want my kids to be. As a parent, you hope you are raising your kids to learn from your mistakes and be better people. The big catch-22 is the fact that we're &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;still&lt;/span&gt; making mistakes... even as adults. So how do you end the cycle...? Well, you don't. I've realized my kids will never be me - nor should they be - but they will be me-ish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As much as we hate to admit it, we become our parents to a certain extent. I was amazed the first time I uttered my daughter's full name in anger. In that instant, I remember thinking, "How did I become my Dad???"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, my son tripped the house alarm and called LA's finest to the house. As I was thinking of how much of a terror he was going to be... I was reminded that I was as much a terror - if not worse, when I was his age. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;How else do you explain my favorite shirt growing up that bragged: "Here comes trouble." So w&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;as he learning or did he have Dad's crazy genes or worse...was it both?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, it doesn't really matter. My kids will be their own little people - as they should. The best I can do is to protect them, keep them safe, provide for them, and guide them as best I can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe, just maybe, they won't turn on me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-1565916362898330148?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/1565916362898330148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/07/progeny-or-legacy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/1565916362898330148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/1565916362898330148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/07/progeny-or-legacy.html' title='Progeny or legacy?'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-4011151419985797633</id><published>2009-07-08T22:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T23:11:03.941-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knowledge'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='staff'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='information'/><title type='text'>Knowledge</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Sir Francis Bacon said, "Knowledge is Power." And while that's very true to a degree, it is really what we do &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;with that knowledge that is powerful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowledge that is kept to oneself helps no one but the ego of those that hoard it. On the other hand, knowledge that is disseminated not only &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;empowers&lt;/span&gt;, but also enlightens. In the absence of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; information, people naturally speculate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;They fill the information void with rumor, conjecture, and hearsay. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;How far you let that go, as a leader, is what separates the true leaders from the wannabes. As I've said before, a true leader trusts their people, even if only to say, "I don't know." It's only in an environment of transparency that the group can mature and grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Information is like flowing water. Regardless of how secretive you may want to be with it, it usually leaks out one way or another, so you may as well address it head on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a true testament to a leader (and an organization) to share information so that everyone benefits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-4011151419985797633?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/4011151419985797633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/07/knowledge.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/4011151419985797633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/4011151419985797633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/07/knowledge.html' title='Knowledge'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-3271327560102694603</id><published>2009-06-22T22:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T23:20:30.794-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time'/><title type='text'>The Journey</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;If I had a chance for another try,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; I wouldn’t change a thing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; It's made me all of who I am inside&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; And if I could thank god&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; That I am here, and that I am alive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; And everyday I wake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; I tell myself a little harmless lie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt; The whole wide world is mine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;"Rite of Spring" - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://modlife.com/angelsandairwaves"&gt;Angels &amp;amp; Airwaves&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Recently while watching a trailer for the movie &lt;a href="http://17againmovie.com/"&gt;17 Again&lt;/a&gt;, my wife asked me, "Would you want to do it all over again?" Without hesitation, I replied, "Why would I??!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a long time I've been a believer of "everything happens for a reason." It's not as easy to stay true to that as it sounds. When my Dad passed, it was hard to accept that there may be a reason for it all. (I still find it hard.) But having the good fortune to be able to look back at my life I can say, there is no way I could be here in this moment (typing this post) if I had made different choices in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the best examples is my current job. Had I made different choices in high school - I may not have ended up dating the young lady that would eventually become my wife. After college, my first creative job was working with my then future sister-in-law in a small studio designing baby bedding as a licensee for Disney (among other studios). It was there that I was exposed to the other creative jobs that the Walt Disney Company offered. Having been exposed to the Company offerings, I made the leap to apply for a job in the new Internet division. Almost 10 years later I can say it wouldn't have been possible if I hadn't taken all the steps along the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, you can always argue that it may have happened some other way, but it's hard to imagine that I would be the same person if I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, regrets mean little to me. In life, it's not about what you've missed along the way, but what you've gained as you've journeyed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-3271327560102694603?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/3271327560102694603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/06/journey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/3271327560102694603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/3271327560102694603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/06/journey.html' title='The Journey'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-8830783812730376071</id><published>2009-05-27T22:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T22:51:16.448-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dad'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mortality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Flashes of Memory</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;The human memory works in strange ways. You would think it would function more like hardware - store a memory, retrieve a memory. Not so. More often than not, memories come in fits and spurts. They can be triggered by sounds, smells, songs, or sometimes... they are forced out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting at a funeral recently, I started thinking about the day my Dad passed away. As I mentioned in my previous post, I was with him. In vague generalities, I remember the day. I can remember the exact sequence of events that transpired that day. I can remember the sounds. But one memory escaped me for more than ten years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a flash, I had a memory of me attempting CPR on my Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This may seem a trivial memory to dredge up, but in that instant, I realized - with the utmost clarity - my failure on that day. Having had years to work through my loss, I rationalize that there was nothing more I could do... but all that went out of my head as I re-lived those few minutes of trying to get my Dad to breath again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alone in my head, I sat there helplessly. Had I done all I could? Did I do it right? It doesn't really matter, though - my Dad is still gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember hating the show "Rescue 911" for years after my Dad passed. I would watch and get so angry - the happy endings they showed at the end of each episode, only fueled my anger. There was no happy ending for my Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet, I am not haunted by that day as much as you would think. In those flashes, it all comes back, but as with all memories, they soon recede into the depths and are replaced by new ones. Not better ones, just new ones. Memories of my niece being born after my Dad passed. Memories of more nieces joining soon after. Memories of my own wife and kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end, it's not the flashes that matter - but the entire story they tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-8830783812730376071?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/8830783812730376071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/05/flashes-of-memory.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/8830783812730376071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/8830783812730376071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/05/flashes-of-memory.html' title='Flashes of Memory'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-1882492592107034966</id><published>2009-05-21T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T22:31:53.452-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mortality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Later... doesn't always come</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; ;font-family:verdana;" &gt;So dizzy Mr. Busy - Too much rush to talk to Billy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt; All the silly frilly things have to first get done &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt; In a minute - sometime soon - maybe next time - make it June &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt; Until later... doesn't always come&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cut Here&lt;/span&gt;" - &lt;a href="http://www.thecure.com/"&gt;The Cure&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;Sometimes we get so busy with life we forget to stop and remember what really matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I found out a friend's mother passed away. He's my older brother's good friend who I happened to grow up with. Growing up he was like my second big brother, and his family an extension of my own. Over the years, we grew apart for no other reason than we got older and had our own lives to live. I haven't seen my friend in a long time. And these days it always seems that we see old friends only at weddings and funerals. And as we get older, it tends to be more at funerals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This got me thinking... the anniversary of my own Dad's passing is coming soon. It will be 14 years this summer that he passed. That day still sticks with me vividly. You see, I was with my Dad when he passed. Long story short, he had a heart attack at home and that was that. I remember feeling numb for so long afterward. I wasn't able to deal with it directly, since I felt that I had to be strong for the rest of my family - my Mom and sister, specifically. In some ways, I don't think I've really ever dealt with it. And by "it", I mean the guilt that sometimes creeps in when I think about that day. In retrospect, there's not much I think I could have done differently, but there has always been that nagging question of "what if?" In some ways I've come to peace with what happened, but it still never really goes away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I've been left with are all the great memories I shared with my Dad. The daily drive home after school that seemed so simple at the time, but now that I cherish for the 1/2 hour alone I got to spend with him. Waking up early on Sunday to go with him to Mass. The smell as he cooked the family breakfast every Sunday. His smile as I was able to make him laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is indeed short. Too short for all the things we truly want to accomplish. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I vowed I'd never take things for granted after he passed, but as people do... I forgot. Sometimes it takes a vivid reminder of our own mortality to make us remember that "later doesn't always come."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-1882492592107034966?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/1882492592107034966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/05/later-doesnt-always-come.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/1882492592107034966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/1882492592107034966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/05/later-doesnt-always-come.html' title='Later... doesn&apos;t always come'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-308592860590612248</id><published>2009-05-07T21:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T22:39:09.849-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='patience'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationship'/><title type='text'>The ties that bind... or not.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;When is enough enough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's the "final straw" and the "nail in the coffin", but it's funny how sometimes "enough" just sneaks up on you. A friend of mine and I share an inside joke about how he loses interest in his personal projects very fast. He can burn with passion at the start of the project and then a week later it's... meh. It's pretty comical with him, but in regards to other areas of life, it's not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's take friendships, for example. I would sacrifice all I could for a friend, but occasionally, there comes a time where the effort needed to sustain a relationship outweighs the benefits. Sounds clinical, I know. In marriage, you compromise and you constantly meet each other half-way. It's a constant adjustment that takes work. With your soulmate, it's all worthwhile. With friends, it's a bit more complicated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friendship is a symbiotic relationship in which both people benefit - either from company, support, laughs, or just to have someone who understands you. But it's definitely a two way street. So what happens when the traffic starts to go all "one way"? That's when it gets complicated. Everyone's had an acquaintance that was "hard to be friends" with. Why would that be? Because you were getting less out of the relationship than what you putting in. It's just that simple. Doesn't that mean you're a "good friend" for sticking with them? Yes. But patience can only last so long. There are so many other things in life to worry about: family, health, etc. One's time and compassion are finite. So... we choose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And sometimes we choose to let go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-308592860590612248?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/308592860590612248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/05/ties-that-bind-or-not.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/308592860590612248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/308592860590612248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/05/ties-that-bind-or-not.html' title='The ties that bind... or not.'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-7349783708805965401</id><published>2009-04-30T22:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T22:29:10.239-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='promotion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='staff'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='leadership'/><title type='text'>Going Mental</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;It's funny how a single word can change your state of mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... that and the expectations that come with it. I recently ascended one rung higher on the corporate ladder and with that came a new title. It's not a huge change by any means. There is not a "Highness" or "Duke of..." in my new title, just a simple word added: Senior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not like a lot has really changed even. I still have the same number of people working for me (although that will grow by two soon). For all intents and purposes, I have the same job - albeit one I have been doing without the "official" title for a while. But a funny thing happened deep in the recesses of my brain. I realized with great power, comes great responsibility. (Thank you, Spider-man). Now mind you, I don't really have great power, but I do have some influence in my small sphere. I realized that as a "Senior" I have some responsibilities that are expected of me - not only by my superior, but by my peers, and even more importantly, by the ones that work for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's an unwritten agreement when you manage people that you will have their back and watch out for their better good. That comes in many forms: backing their decisions to take risks; protecting them when they feel overwhelmed; being the buffer to those things that can distract. But more importantly, the one thing they expect is for you to make decisions. Yes, it's just that simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason your superiors give you a bump is that you are actually expected to take the lead and make decisions. It still amazes me that that isn't the case with everyone. The worst leader is the one that is indecisive. Either stunned into indecisiveness by lack of confidence or the fear of being wrong, that type of leadership is not really leadership at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone can't be right all the time, but sticking your neck out is what separates the true leaders from the posers. True, the only way to have that confidence is to know that you will be supported, but there is definitely something to be said for bucking the system and not being a "yes" man. The world has enough of those already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've said many times in the last few weeks... step up or step aside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-7349783708805965401?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/7349783708805965401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/going-mental.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/7349783708805965401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/7349783708805965401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/going-mental.html' title='Going Mental'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-4446972426531029269</id><published>2009-04-22T21:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T22:01:46.386-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='online'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='facebook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='status'/><title type='text'>Digital Exhibitionism</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Ahh.. Facebook. Oh, how you've turned the world into a bunch of voyeurs and exhibitionists. Not only do people feel compelled to know the goings on of everyone else, but now everyone can do a little digital striptease themselves. If ever there were a worse way to say, "Look at me, world!" (maybe Twitter), then Facebook - you take the cake. With Facebook, you can now scream to the world all the minutia that once would have been relagated to conversations with your grandmother. Why not pick up the phone and actually "talk" to people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I hear you screaming... "Then, don't use it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True. But as with crime statistics, 80% of the ridiculousness is caused by 20% of users. What of the 80% of Facebook users who are not ego maniacal?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-4446972426531029269?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/4446972426531029269/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/digital-exhibitionism.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/4446972426531029269'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/4446972426531029269'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/digital-exhibitionism.html' title='Digital Exhibitionism'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-3219582930011911742</id><published>2009-04-22T20:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T21:40:34.757-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friendship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><title type='text'>Definition of Self</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;What defines us?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;Most people "find" themselves along life's long path, so &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;for them it's who and what we decide to surround ourselves with. For others that definition is more elusive. It's fascinating to see others not be able to find that which most eludes them - happiness. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;'m &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;reminded of someone I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;once &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;knew who felt compelled to define herself by her work and by extension, the opinions of her coworkers. The need for being in the "in" crowd and her professional advancement were enough to cloud her better judgment when it came time to define her real friends. It was then I realized that I didn't know this person anymore. Any values she cherished we no longer shared. It later came to light, that I was not the only one who had come to this realization.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;In recent days I, myself, have come to appreciate how much I've grown along life's long path. When we were younger, we'd get report cards with grades on how we were behaving. As an adult, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;it's not so clear to know how we are doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the extreme satisfaction of attending a friend's wedding recently. We've known each other for the past few years and chat often weekly, but I think we can both can say we are not each other's BFFs. Friends, yes. So why the invitation? When he was laid off from work, I was able to help him in the only way I knew how - by creating a portfolio site for him. That helped him find a job and consequently be stable enough to propose to his beautiful bride to be. As my wife reminded me that day, it's the little selfless things that come back to reward you - both in his friendship and in his trust and confidence to include us in his happiest day. That day I knew I had done well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;And in the end, to a certain extent, I am also defined by what I leave behind - &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;the physical manifestation of me - my kids, the friendships I have made, and the &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;memories that I leave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-3219582930011911742?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/3219582930011911742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/definition-of-self.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/3219582930011911742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/3219582930011911742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/definition-of-self.html' title='Definition of Self'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-5669479132998729321</id><published>2009-04-20T21:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T21:35:27.300-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='change'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='epiphany'/><title type='text'>Epiphany</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: bold;" class="me"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;e⋅piph⋅a⋅ny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: normal;" class="pronset"&gt;&lt;span class="show_spellpr" style="display: inline;"&gt;&lt;span class="prondelim"&gt;[&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="pron"&gt;i-&lt;span class="boldface"&gt;pif&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="ital-inline"&gt;uh&lt;/span&gt;-nee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="prondelim"&gt;] &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="pg"&gt;–noun&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;h2 style="font-family: verdana; font-weight: normal;" class="me"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;So what happens when you realize that the person you thought you knew is no longer the same person you thought you knew?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time has an interesting way of showing us the truth. Sometimes it takes seconds, and other times it takes years. I like to pride myself on my ability to "read" people. My track record is pretty impressive. Although, as with all things, it has failed me (miserably) on occasion. But what happens when someone changes right in front of you - over the course of a few years? I suppose you lean on others for comfort and find solace in what used to be. I feel a certain validation in the fact that I am not the only one seeing this transformation, but also a touch of sadness at having lost another bit of the past.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing stays the same, but through it all you must stay true to yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-5669479132998729321?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/5669479132998729321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/epiphany.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/5669479132998729321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/5669479132998729321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/epiphany.html' title='Epiphany'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-3083315787694381698</id><published>2009-04-20T21:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T21:16:32.843-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='young'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='growing up'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peter pan'/><title type='text'>Peter Pan</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Why do people &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; always &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;want us to grow up?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's definitely a time and a place to be an "adult" but the one thing that keeps me young at heart is not taking life so seriously. I recently had an old acquaintance ask, "Will you ever grow up?" to which I responded, "Why?" Seriously. I work in an industry that aims to entertain kids - how best to accomplish that than channel my inner child. Now mind you, this is a person whom I haven't really had any contact in almost 20 years, so maybe she wasn't used to the fact that that's always how I am, but nonetheless...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I've learned anything in life, it is this... a child's perspective is at the same time the purest and most brutally honest as you'll ever find. Just ask a preschooler to critique your drawing any day and you'll see what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-3083315787694381698?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/3083315787694381698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/peter-pan.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/3083315787694381698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/3083315787694381698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/peter-pan.html' title='Peter Pan'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-7186222829217852271</id><published>2009-04-12T23:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T21:17:08.867-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mortality'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='health'/><title type='text'>Mere Mortals</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There's nothing like having the crap scared out of you (medically) to wake you up to your own mortality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months back, was my turn. Before I go on, all is well, and thankfully it was just that - a scare. But it did get me thinking... My dad passed when I was just 22 years old. He was only 51. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;He and I were together when it happened, so it will always been fresh in my mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Your priorities at 22 are very different than what they are at 36.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It scared the be-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;jezzus&lt;/span&gt; out of me to think I could leave the wife and kids in a few years. A quick doctor's appointment later and everything checked out - in fact, in some ways I was actually pleasantly surprised. But for a few long and grueling days, I was forced to look my own mortality in the eye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember doing that when I was 18... yes, it was weird to think about it so young, but hey... I distinctly remember thinking that if I were to check out right there, it would be OK. Not in an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;emo&lt;/span&gt;-Goth, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I wanna die&lt;/span&gt; kind of way, but with a deep sense of peace. I haven't felt that in a long while - no wonder with all the noise and stress in today's life. That was a long time ago... and priorities change. Today, I want to be here for my kids as long as I'm able. I still wish my dad could have seen some of my later accomplishments, like graduating college, marriage, and kids - especially since he was a huge proponent of all them. So job number one is to be here for my kids. I want to see them graduate. I want to see them get hitched. And I want to see my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;grand kids&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-7186222829217852271?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/7186222829217852271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/mere-mortals.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/7186222829217852271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/7186222829217852271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/mere-mortals.html' title='Mere Mortals'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-5667571861442077048</id><published>2009-04-12T15:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-12T15:34:45.088-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='high school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reunion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='old flame'/><title type='text'>When the past comes back to smack you in the face</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: verdana;font-size:85%;" &gt;It's funny how lengths of time can sometimes feel either like an eternity or a flash of an instant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I've got back in touch with someone from high school. Now normally this wouldn't be a big deal, but we shared an awkward past - me obsessed, her the ever elusive prey. It took a while for me to get over it - back then. Almost twenty years later, it was a blah moment. Very anti-climactic. Everyone has to grow up, I suppose, yet for her she still had reservations as if I was still the same dorky 16 year old. After a few emails and a lot of texting, it's all good, but why the drama? I suppose on some level you can only deal with what you know - even if what you know is information that's 20 years old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-5667571861442077048?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/5667571861442077048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/when-past-comes-back-to-smack-you-in.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/5667571861442077048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/5667571861442077048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/04/when-past-comes-back-to-smack-you-in.html' title='When the past comes back to smack you in the face'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-1541887959686233364</id><published>2009-03-22T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T20:28:17.617-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='time travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Order'/><title type='text'>Time Travel Songs</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=";font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;"  &gt;I've always found it very interesting that you can be transported to another time and place just by remembering a song. The mind is indeed a powerful vehicle for taking you back. The smells, the sounds, the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;feelings&lt;/span&gt; all come back in an instant. For me, my consistent time machine songs are found on &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Order"&gt;New Orde&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_Order"&gt;r&lt;/a&gt;'s &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Substance_%28New_Order_album%29"&gt;Substance&lt;/a&gt;. Hearing those songs today, for better or worse, send me instantly back to a much different time... and strangely enough, to clear nights in northern Utah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-1541887959686233364?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/1541887959686233364/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/03/time-travel-songs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/1541887959686233364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/1541887959686233364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/03/time-travel-songs.html' title='Time Travel Songs'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2979858839448676680.post-7474926715675099637</id><published>2009-03-19T23:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T20:28:50.107-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='social network'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='facebook'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='updates'/><title type='text'>CrackBook</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;There's something about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: verdana;" href="http://www.facebook.com/"&gt;Facebook&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; that makes people a little (read a lot) crazy. First it started with people feeling compelled to share everything they did every moment of the day. Then the dreaded "25 Things" BS started. Lately it's quizzes. I like the ease of keeping in touch, but must I be forced to know that you like "flair" or that you are most like Yoda? If I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; wanted to know.. I'd probably just &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" &gt;ask&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; you. I suppose the greatest &lt;span&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; transgression is the not-so-subtle cry for help disguised as "status updates." If you hate meetings, can't wait for the workday to end, ended a relationship, or are having a bad day in general, there is nothing more pathetic than screaming it out the world - digitally. The best update is the private one... in your head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2979858839448676680-7474926715675099637?l=skulleto.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/feeds/7474926715675099637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/03/crackbook.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/7474926715675099637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2979858839448676680/posts/default/7474926715675099637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://skulleto.blogspot.com/2009/03/crackbook.html' title='CrackBook'/><author><name>Señor Skulleto</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_HdXygxffGBI/SW_DO7Q7d6I/AAAAAAAAAAM/AgSznAIKD6g/S220/dr_destruction.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
