OUT OF OFFICE

No blogs next week! I'll be on vacation in Yellowstone National Park free from all technology. Marie, Joe and Janice (Letters from the Moon subscribers), I'll start posting again on October 7th.

As Kate Winslet said from a floating iceberg in the movie Titanic, "come back".

Past is Prologue

25% of all flights don't leave on time meaning they don't arrive on time either. The root of the problem has to do with too many flights during peak hours and inefficiencies in New York. When the morning flights are delayed out of JFK and LaGuardia, someone in Topeka, KS is going to be sitting on the tarmac later in the day.

"Excuse me Sir, but I have a connecting flight to Peoria. Am I still going to make my connection?"

"FA-GETTA-BOUT-IT."

Damn Yankee fans.

I've been on the short end, no wait, the long end of some nasty flight delays. They aren't fun. In fact they are a real pain in the ass, but they aren't the end of the world.

In our fast paced I got to have it now and when is the next version coming out world, we need a little perspective to help us do a better job of managing our expectations. Whew, that was a mouthful, so let me provide an example so this becomes a catch phrase.

In 1852 it took pioneers 150 days to traverse the 2,000 mile Oregon Trail from Independence, MO to Oregon City, OR. Arriving in the Willamette Valley could be delayed if you bent the wagon wheel on a rock, got bit by a rattlesnake, or took an arrow in the back.

This week I flew from Hartford, CT to Phoenix, AZ and back. Tomorrow I am getting on a plane to Bozeman, MT. By the time I get back to my own bed next weekend, I will have traveled 9,722 miles in less than 20 hours of flight time.

9,722 miles in 20 hours, or 2,000 miles in 3,600 hours?

"Folks, we just received word from the tower that our flight is going to be delayed for at least 2 hours. There is a backlog in the system at the moment. Apparently the delays started with a chartered flight for senior citizens from JFK to Palms Springs where they had difficulty instructing the passengers to find their seat and sit down. We'll update you on our new departure time as soon as we hear something."

"Excuse me, Sir, I know we won't be taking off on time, but will you still be serving peanuts and water?"

Just Don't Make Me Weed

I can't say I'm crazy about business travel, but once in awhile the destination is a bonus. The last two days in Scottsdale have been in the low 90's with no humidity and clear blue skies. The evenings have been even better. I can see why my in-laws like coming to Arizona for the winter. Sunshine is good.

Struggling for the Right Word

Flipping through a travel magazine I saw an ad for learning a foreign language in only 30 days. French, German, Italian - take your pick.

I don't think it is an honest ad. Some people have a disposition for learning languages (theory). My sister Pat falls into this category. She was so good at German, Harvard University recruited her for a doctorate back in the 1970's.

"Patricia, we would be honored if you would come to Cambridge and... well, just speaka da Deutsch." She opted for law school instead, but she got there in a Volkswagen.

More recently she made a trip to Paris and decided it would be more authentic if she communicated with the natives in French. I think she read a lesson book on the flight over and never spoke a word of English the whole trip. In accordance with fair disclosure, it is true she took French in junior high school, but "bon jour" is the only word that comes back to me after a 40 year hiatus.

I wish I could speak a language other than English. I've been tempted over the years to learn Gaelic. I took a crash course in college, but ironically picked up the word "slainte" at a keg party. In a renaissance moment, I tried to master the brogue before our family trip to Bantry Bay ten years ago. Lured by "even you can learn to speak Gaelic" packaging, I bought a computer program and English-to-Gaelic dictionary. Both items are up for auction on eBay if you're interested.

"Píonta Guiness, le do thoil. Slainte!"

Gaelic is a language on life support. Not quite dead, it's great to know on Saint Patrick's Day. Raise a pint in the air, throw together a few guttural sounds and it's as if you took a piece of the old sod from your pocket.

"In the mold of Eamon De Valera himself, he is."

I'd still like to speak Gaelic, and Latin as well. Maybe it is my obsession with all things dead, but one would bring me closer to my Celtic ancestors and the other to the angels.

Latin, another D-minus on the report card, is the language that transcends space and time and reaches the ears of God. In Catholicism the most sacred songs are sung in Latin - purity.

Latin is the keeper of the keys for most of the words we use, so in theory if you know 8,000 Latin words you should be able to figure out the meaning of roughly 300,000 English words. I read somewhere the demise of Latin could be traced back to the lack of the word "um". Gaelic had no word for "sunshine"and yet both languages survive on the fringes.

At the young age of 50 I am not giving up on my linguistic dreams. I remember my Dad revisiting algebra when he retired. Two trains start at the exact same spot, on tracks that run side by side. Both start at the exact same time, both heading north. One has a big engine and can run at 60 mph. The other train is a smaller train and can only run at 45 mph. When the big train has gone 120 miles, how far has the smaller train gone? If Pops could hone his mathematical skills at age 70, there is still hope for me learning my declensions.

Veni, vidi, vici....and slainte, too!

Peter Pan Syndrome

James celebrated his 22nd birthday last week. He's grown into a nice young man. He's going to school full time as an accounting major AND working a 40 hour week for a Fortune 500 company. He pays his own rent, buys his own gas and cooks his own meals! Known as Scooter during his Little League days, I think he's grown into a James, or at least a Jim.

While he is anxious to move on up in the world, I'd prefer to keep it to Neverland. I was in Modell's on Saturday and they had an end of season sale on baseball gloves with no one to buy them. I thought of buying one just to give it away to the first 12 year old to cross my path. I thought better of it and picked up a pack of football cards instead.

I got home later in the afternoon to find a mailbox full of bills and my quarterly 401-k statement. Despite putting more money into my account, and getting a bump from an employer match, the total value of my retirement nest egg went down.

I don't wanna grow up. Fidelity doesn't want me to either.

Simpson, Eh - Part II

I've done some crazy things in my life to get attention. Three that come to mind are:

1. Streaking across the Christ the King School stage during Thursday Night Bingo wearing nothing but a ski mask, and of course....yelling BINGO!


2. Standing up at a 4th of July Concert in Hartford and tipping my baseball cap (ala Lou Gehrig) when the U.S. Air Force Band conductor announced a special guest in the audience. "And that is not him," he was quoted as saying.


3. Picking Julie up at Bradley Airport (Hartford) dressed as a limo driver with a sign hung around my neck. The sign read, "Foxwoods Casino Welcomes Julie Mullen" and it sported a giant Playboy logo. The whole lobby was waiting for her arrival.

I understand the desire for recognition. Don't let the secret out, but when I post here on Letters from the Moon, I am hoping that someone will take notice of my thoughts and photos. I am a seeker of acceptance albeit an unrealistic one given there are some 57 million blogs on the net. But, hey, what is it they say about the lotto - you can't win if you don't play?

I don't think I am ever going to have my Warhol moment. There is too much competition in the marketplace of pranksters, and the younger generation is taking the sport to another level - death. Just this week a University of Florida student got tasered (that's 50,000 volts for the unknowing), and a MIT co-ed stood down when the Massachusetts State Police drew their machine guns following her Logan Airport stunt. It was 34 years ago when I ran naked through the bingo hall, but at the time I remembered being worried someone might recognize my voice. The thought of being shot by Sheriff McGlauglin never entered my mind.

Andrew Meyer and Star Simpson stole the show for now, but I'm going to keep tagging my blog entries with "Moon Mullen". Sooner of later somebody is going to take notice and my life will be complete.

AP Photo

Slightly Off Kilter

There are some days where it would be better just to stay in bed. They can't all be perfect.

Simpson, Eh

The real injustice of O.J. Simpson beating the murder rap in 1995, is we are going to be subject to another TV trial in 2007! Does anyone remember anything else from 1995?

Saturday Julie made a comment that you could probably trace the roots of reality TV (evil) back to the scene of a white Ford Bronco driving down Interstate 405 in L.A. I think she is right.

Mix in a Little Love

Julie has a tin box filled with recipe cards. Some are commercially printed instructions from a food manufacturer or magazine, but most are hand written notes passed down from her Mom. When we got married 30 years ago, we loaded up the back of a Datsun orange pick-up truck and moved from Vermont to Michigan; the recipe cards came with us.

I saw the Quick Fudge Frosting recipe on the kitchen table this morning. I don't know the exact number of birthday cakes she's covered with that bit of love, but I know it numbers in the hundreds. Little Joey (friend of the family) turned 1 yesterday and had the pleasure of dipping his face in a football shaped, chocolate fudge birthday cake.

When the day comes to split up our estate, the lucky one is going to get the tin!

Everybody's Turning Green

Al Gore sure did shake things up with his movie, An Inconvenient Truth. Regardless of what you think of Monsieur Gore, the fact that lots of people are taking notice of the earth and how we should care for it is a good thing.

Holes in the ozone, global warming, depletion of natural resources are all worrisome topics. It is only logical that with a growing worldwide population, and the continued economic development of India and China, humanity will someday squeeze the last drop of oil out of the desert sands. China, a nation of 1.3 billion people, is expecting annual automobile sales to increase by 15-20% for the next 20 years! I'm hoping there is some young brilliant mind working on perfecting the use of hydrogen fuel cells tonight instead of playing Halo online.

I guess my thoughts are that everyone has to do their part to conserve for the good of all mankind. We took on a project this summer to reduce the CO2 output from the Mullen household by turning off the air-conditioner. Our kilowatt usage was down by 50%. We also sloughed off when it came to trimming the hedges, pulling the weeds or cutting the grass this summer, but as a result the oxygen level around Valleyview Lane is soaring! We're doing our part.

Pope Benedict XVI is doing his part as well. On Save Creation Day, he spoke to 500,000 youth on the need to protect nature’s delicate equilibrium before it is too late. He even wore a green vestment during the community Mass in symbolic gesture. I can see where a holy man would align himself with environmental groups and scientists to protect God's great creation - it is a moral issue.

But what do you make of the announcement this week by the Russian general who stated a new bomb they developed will be sporting a green label? I kid you not.

On Tuesday, Colonel General Aleksandr Rukshin, the deputy chief of Russia's armed forces, announced the development of the "father of all bombs". Exciting news for an old world power, the General went on to say, "The results of the trial of the newly created aviation bomb have shown that its effectiveness and potential are comparable to a nuclear bomb. At the same time I particularly want to emphasize that this bomb does not cause ecological or environmental pollution, in contrast to a nuclear bomb."

As Kermit the Frog would say, "It's not easy being green!"

Photo from BBC News

Score One for the Fella

A couple of months ago a business cohort gave me a strong bit of advise to curb my use of the word "gal". He said it was a word better left to the 1950's that had a sexist edge most people find offensive.

Born in 1957, it is possible I uttered the word gal prior to 1960, but it's more likely it came into my vocabulary sometime in the late 1970's. In fact, I eliminated the word groovy before I ever let slip with the word gal. I'm a late comer.

I wasn't aware that I use the word all that much, but even if I do, it is never with a negative connotation. I often describe my wife as "the nicest gal you could ever want to meet." Then again, I think she also has the nicest set of gams you'd ever want to see!

But gal isn't the same as broad or dame. It isn't even the same as doll, as in the 1950 play Guys and Dolls. Nope, it's a modern day term and I've got proof!

Today while sitting in Grand Central Station, I picked up a copy of the New York Post to pass the time. The sports section starts on the last page in the Post, so I read it like a Chinese novel. Patriots-Jets Spygate, Giants injuries, Yankees win, Mets loss, baseball box scores, Belmont race schedule & odds, and finally on page 79, Women's World Cup Soccer coverage. The headline read, U.S. GALS SURVIVE IN BLOODY OPENER.

At first I thought this a misprint. Surely in today's politically correct world, a noted newspaper wouldn't publish a sexist title, would they? Okay, so it's the Post and not the New York Times, but these guys all have degrees too. So I kept reading.

Page 21, Brothel gal: No sex there.

Page 20, Exclusive: Gal teacher in perv bust.

And the winner is, on the front cover, Foul Isiah Vulgar Sick Knick: gal.

You know what I think? I think my wife is the nicest gal you could ever want to meet.

Fantasy Without the Chubby

I mentioned last week we started up a Mullen Clan fantasy football league. 14 teams in total, we had family members from the woods of Maine, Washington D.C., South Beach in Miami and The Alamo monitoring the NFL scoreboard all weekend. Folks were making last minute roster changes, sending off trash-talking emails and generally having one helluva virtual tailgate party.

Having a fanciful mind, I thought playing fantasy football would be easy. I even drafted a kicker noted for drinking so I could pretend to celebrate when I won my first game. But it turns out I've been away from the statistical side of sports for too long, and I drafted a bunch of losers. My kicker missed all 3 of his field goal attempts and Moon Mullen's Roughriders got spanked. So much for the bubbly.

The prognosis for this week is worse. I'm playing the family gambling genius whose team racked up a record breaking score (122 points) in week one. I'm working on a pre-game motivational speech for the guys, but I haven't figured out how to get Bill Belichick to read it to Laurence Maroney. Do you think Maroney follows Letters from the Moon?

Despite my inept coaching abilities, I'm loving the MCFL. We started a $50 contest last week for the best Mullen Clan Football League logo design. John submitted his as shown above. The photo of Joe Pa (Papa Joe Mullen) in his Jessup High School sweater is the front runner. I'm not sure anyone could come up with anything better - who is going to bet against the family patriarch?

Why Did We Ever Go?

I was traveling back from NH tonight and listened in on Bill O'Reilly's talk radio show as he opined on the military report from Iraq. As you can imagine, there was nothing in the latest assessment by General Patreaus that swayed those on opposite polar ends to change orientation. But something Bill O'Reilly said got me to thinking the democracy crusade is a bad idea.

He said, and I am paraphrasing, that no one in Baghdad cares about establishing a democratic society. Based on his personal trips to Iraq, the common Iraqi is only interested in food on the table, a mosque for prayer, and a place to sit around and smoke.

Was that supposed to be a slam? I'm thinking if I could have two eggs over easy in the morning, go to Mass at noon, and cap off each day smoking a White Owl Panatella, I'd be down with that! I'm probably missing something important (like a dictator and torture chambers), but gosh, if Wild Bill's observations are accurate, I wouldn't care about democracy either.

Quarter Century Club

My daughter's 25th birthday is tomorrow. We got so excited we decided to celebrate it a day early. Happy Birthday, Jess!

Uniting Christianity

By now you have probably either seen or heard about Osama Bin Laden's latest video. A rant against capitalism mostly, Fearless Leader, says we can put all of our differences behind us if only we "embrace Islam". Why didn't the Pope think of that?

Let's see, Gabriel comes to Mary, Mary gives birth to Jesus, Jesus preaches love, Jesus recruits Peter and his pals, Jesus gives Peter a cornerstone and a set of keys, Jesus is crucified and the Church is off and running. The apostles carried forth a beautiful message and they were really nice guys, but it turns out some of the descendants of faith thought The House of God needn't have a cornerstone. As a result a few followers of love one another moved out of the brick house, gathered up some sticks and straws, and built their own churches - lots of them.

Today there are some 300 versions of Christians in the marketplace of souls including Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Protestant, Anglican/Episcopalian, Anabaptist, Baptist, Lutheran, Presbyterians, Seventh-day Adventist and more. Some guy in Oklahoma is filing for tax-exempt status as we speak. It's hard to believe there are so many interpretations of love one another.

Osama, do you have any other ideas? I don't think the conversion thing is going to work.

Another Holiday Gone By

I have an Outlook Calendar for work, a Yahoo! Calendar for the Mullen Clan and a Google Calendar for social events. Everything from appointments to birthdays to vacations are plotted on a Sunday through Saturday grid, and friendly email reminders rule my day. But somehow I worked right through National Toasted Marshmallow Day without nary a s'more.

So while I didn't roast a mallow over an open fire on August 30th, I did light up more than one on Saturday night. The world slows down when you toast a marshmallow. Man, you just can't beat a slightly crisp, warm, evenly browned Fluffy Puff.

In 2008, National Toasted Marshmallow Day falls on a Saturday. Get the bonfire ready. We are going to party!

By the way, if you are looking for any tips on marshmallow roasting, recipes, or adventure stories on exotic places to roast a marshmallow (Hawaiian lava flow), check out the National Marshmallow Roasters Institute (NMRI) website - very funny!

Green Mountain Boys Redux

I love Vermont. I grew up in Burlington, although to those outside of Chittenden County, this doesn't necessarily make you a Vermonter. Still, I have traveled most of the back roads during my lifetime from Somerset to Breadloaf and from Smuggler's Notch up through the Northeast Kingdom. If it's listed in DeLorme's Atlas & Gazetteer, I've probably been there.

A good friend of mine has a camp up in the town of Newark, VT. It's a hidden gem of old farms and trout brook ponds that hasn't changed much since it was first settled in 1797, 6 years after Vermont became the 14th state in the Union. The locals will tell you that too many flatlanders are buying up the land, but according to the 2000 Census there are only 470 residents compared to 679 registered citizens in 1880. Despite its beauty, Newark has been able to keep a low profile.

Sitting by an evening fire under the star lit sky or waking at sunrise to see the fog lift from the pond, it's hard to figure how condos haven't made their way to the wooded shores. That is until you hear the sound of rat-ta-tat-tat-tat drowning out the loons.

"That's an odd sound, Jonas. What is it?

"What is what?'

Rat-ta-tat-tat-tat, rat-ta-tat-tat-tat, rat-ta-tat-tat-tat!

"That! Coming from the hillside!"

"Oh, that. That's the militia. They'll probably set off the canon in a ...."

Ka-Boom!

"Holy shit! Is it a Vermont National Guard outpost?"

"Heck no, it's the local militia. More like the original Green Mountain Boys. They are practicing to take back Vermont. Haven't you seen the signs?"

"Take back Vermont from who?"

"From whoever is threatening our freedom and independence - the tax man, politicians, immigrants, the government....out-of-staters."

"How do they feel about people from Burlington?"

"Flatlanders!"

Marching Towards Phoenix

The Mullen Clan Football League (MCFL) is underway! We held our fantasy league draft this morning and the pace was fast and furious with savvy picks and a few surprises - LT didn't go until the 3rd pick!

I actually did a fair amount of research before the draft, and my wish list looked pretty good until we went from 8 teams to 14. I didn't research deep enough into the draft. By the time we got to the 12th round, I didn't recognize the names of any of the players left. I took the "best available" as long as the bye week didn't match my other draftees.

In the true spirit of living through another, I drafted Sebastian Janikowski (kicker) in the 13th round because he loves drinking beer. I think the Polish Cannon is going to be my secret weapon.

Na Zdrowie!

Carving the Grandeur

I was reading a bit about the history of Labor Day and found it interesting that though merely 125 years old, there is some controversy as to who started the holiday. I'm voting for Peter J. McGuire (Irishman), merely on the basis of a quote where he suggested a day to honor those "who from rude nature have delved and carved all the grandeur we behold."

Here are some unedited notes I took on a business trip earlier this summer that still make Labor Day more than an end of summer picnic:


Jacob - Russian cab driver

Came to USA in 1983 – "KGB" with a laugh – settled in Brooklyn; mother still there

Hated NYC – "ever body give you the fingur all the time – in Baltimore people say good morning in NY they cut you off and you beep the horn because they do something wrong... and they give you fingur! "

Baltimore for 12 years

Works 7 days a week and last vacation was in 2000 – had to put 2 kids through college

Son went to Univ of Maryland – "not so bad instate college, but daughter she has to go to Penn State – very expensive but somehow tells me she saved 6 months of college bill through test she take to get credits." Intern for Baltimore Magazine – celebrating 2 years with her boyfriend – also Russian

"Son get good job out of school and he is rich" – lives with Dad to save money but goes out to party every night – only works 5 days

Bought a new black Suburban with leather seats, DVD, surround sound system and air conditioning – looks like President's secret service car. "Picked up a guy last week when I bought and told him I treat him just like secret service and he gives me business card – he was in secret service ...not very secret."

Talked with insurance agent about insurance while we were in the car – “you most expensive of all guys I talk to. $4000? Last guy I talk to tells me $3600 for $300,000 coverage and I tell him that is too much. $500,000? I don’t need $500,000 – I never get in accident. You too much money.”

Found us by hanging out near baggage and looking for us – he decided we were his next customer; sold us on leather seats, A/C, new vehicle, better than taxi, $35? – too much we were told $28 - "that is from downtown to airport but airport to downtown higher – I do for $30" = DEAL Got us to Residence Inn downtown and did an up sell for a trip back tomorrow.

Gashar – young Ethiopian yellow cab driver

In US less than 3 years - didn't have 1 penny when he came here.

Got his GED right away

Now sends Mother, brothers/sisters money to live back home. Sent Mother $500 and she worried something was wrong for him to have so much money to share with her – put it in the bank "I don’t need anything"

Growing up he was “parasite” living off his parents – food, water and roof – basics . Dad died last year and couldn't be there but okay – lived a good life – 5 girls and 4 boys. Trying to get his sister to come to Baltimore to live with him - she is a nurse.

New immigrant story – as good as the old – as a nation we are missing it

Motto – "don't complain and when things go bad, just pray"

1st job worked at night at convenience store/gas station for $6/hr. Homeless guys would hang out in front of the store asking for money and he got to know one of them – older fella – asked what he made in a day - $50 on a bad day/$500 on a good day & no taxes – unbelievable!!

Leased his own cab 4 months ago and now working for himself – "I can make whatever I want to make; don’t understand Americans who don’t want to work and just take handouts." Kept a 2nd job working valet at a downtown hotel – good tip money. Sends the money back to his siblings in Etheopia and tells them to stay in school.

2:30 marathon runner - no sponsor - ran in Boston, Miami, L.A., NYC, Baltimore.

"Living a dream."