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In which a helpless baby stranded in a vast and lonely spaceship singlehandedly battles a horrible green alien... and nobody hears her scream.


(some content may not be appropriate for sensitive audiences)



                                 OK, fine... there is no spaceship.

 
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Viktor E. Frankl does not need my endorsement of his book.  Several hundred people give him a virtually unanimous straight-five-stars review on Amazon (which may not be the ultimate criterion for quality, but it is my quick and easy guide to goodness).  And according to Wikipedia, Man's Search For Meaning belongs to "the ten most influential books in the United States," ever.

The question is... how come I never heard of it until now?  Had you?

Oh well, never mind that.  The book is as short as it is good (very).  And, as I just finished it, I will jot down a few of my impressions in the paragraphs below...

 
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Several times in my life I've experienced the hectic months-long madness of comming home each day, bone-tired from work, only to engage in a losing fight to contain the destruction and the poop that an entire litter of marauding puppies can dispense with such unbelievable gusto...  And then, a mere 8 weeks after it began, I've slogged through the heartbrake of seeing the little demons go to new owners... one by one... until suddenly I come home one night and the floors are pee-free, the furniture's insides are still surrounded by the furniture's outsides, and my home is... silent.**

The last time I went through this, I wrote a little "Ode to a puppy, leaving".  It is perhaps, a bit sappy, but I like it.  As far as I know, I only shared it with my then girlfriend (now wife).  Now I share it with the rest of yus.  Enjoy...

 
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In case you didn't know... this blog is routinely read by (you and) about 4 (other) loyal fans...

OK, it is read by 5 fans (whose loyalty and attention span must never be taken for granted, but earned through solid, humorous yet insightful, ultimately informative writing).

Fine, forget fans... by 5 curious people.  6, on rainy days.

And it occurs to me as I sit down to write something... anything... that if there is a sure way to rouse the ire of my readership (or at least their disappointment)... a way, while I am at it, in which I might also make my blog somehow less socially, culturally, or intellectually relevant... (to say nothing of its once alleged commitment to topics related to rookiedaddyhood) well then that way would surely consist of my writing about...