Due to technical difficulties

Just an example of what life is like in the 21st Century.

For the better part of the last 10 days, I have been either with high-speed Internet service or it has been running really slow -- like worse than when I used to dial up on A-O-L.

Definitely not the cable modem. Router is working fine. Finally, it was determined a line tech needed to come out and futz around outside. As I am penning this chapter, no one knows for sure if it will actually allow me to post immediately so ... here goes nothing.

Now then ... so James Frey has come clean -- turns out his best-selling book "A Million Little Pieces" is more fiction that memoir. The whole thing may actually be a work of fiction. I know this was a serious enough issue for St. Oprah of Chicago to issue a mea culpa for her personal endorsement of the work.

I read the book because of a personal interest and issues of addiction within myself and my family. My take is the framework Frey describes about going to Hazelden is probably dead on, but the characters -- the bricks and cement that hold the story together -- is probably shaky at best, from the Mob boss who takes Frey under his wing to the former boxing champion who curses a blue streak at the drop of a hat.

While reading the book, I kept thinking to myself, "This character is nowhere near strong enough" to just able to stop -- cold turkey for the most part -- the addictive behaviors he described. There was no way he could describe the horrors of rebuilding a mouth of shattered teeth without any anesthetic because he is an addict.

The love interest he met in rehab also was just too perfect. Two addicts meet and hook up while trying to get clean and sober? Sure, it can happen, but ...

And in the end, when Frey reveals that the love interest was found dead after hanging herself, that just seemed -- in a left-handed compliment sort of way -- too neat and too perfect to be real.

Regardless, I would say read it. Issues of fiction versus non-fiction aside, Frey delves into a dank world most people never want to caught in, much less spend time thinking about.

If you have read it, tell me what you think. I'd like to know.

Back in game ... back on the bench

Happy New Year, three weeks late ...

Last year ended for me being in a relationship for the first time in many years. I ended it this week, but not without feeling pain I have not experienced in a dozen years -- and it is something I do not want to relive anytime soon.

It's not that I did not enjoy her company. Quite the opposite. I enjoyed going out with her, even to do things like window-shop, go to restaurants and the like. She even did things for me that no one has ever done.

Two weeks after we started seeing each other, I went home to New York City for Thanksgiving. She met me at O'Hare and took me and we went to lunch before dropping me off at work.

Last month, she took me to a Christmas concert at Chicago's Symphony Hall. I did not know what to expect, considering I am more Blackhawks and beer than culture and champagne.

It was nice ... I'm not one for ballet and choral singing and the like, but it was just nice ... the atmosphere and all. Performance was not bad either.

For the first time, I spent the holidays and such with her ... as best we could given my hours and her schedule to go home to Wisconsin. She put a lot of thought into gifts for me -- a sweater, dress shirt, a beautiful book from the Chicago Tribune about the city's history.

It was truly one of the nicest gestures someone has ever shown me. Which makes it all the worse that I felt it needed to end.

Not to sound too clinical about it, but I do not like my life micromanaged. For the longest time, I lamented being alone during the holidays and Valentine's Day and such. Having been on the other side so to speak, I think being alone -- and more important -- having the freedom to do what I want, go where I want and answer to myself for the most part -- is not so bad.

Some married friends, who are for lack of a better term "in trouble" have told me how they wish they could have my life. Not everything in it, but the freedom part of it. Now I understand why.

I also should have seen this coming. For example, picking me up at the airport ... a nice gesture? Yes, of course. But at the same time, a little too -- intimate? -- for two people just getting to know each other.

I'll say this about me: I admit being difficult ... I throw myself in my work to such a degree that I do not like getting personal calls there unless there is a medical, family or similar type emergency. I explained this to her, but almost every night, she would call me usually around 10:30 or 11 p.m. I explained to her that this is consistently one of the busiest times of my shift in the newsroom. Still the calls kept coming.

Another thing I learned was about the micromanaging of other's lives. I have been guilty of that without realizing it. I tried to be a part of someone's life and have summarily been ignored. That's OK with me ... live and learn. Took me more than 40 years and this experience to see it.

There were other issues in my case ... issues I don't think need to be spelled out here, something I will do out of respect for her.

So, ultimately, the question needs to be asked -- will I date again? I think in all honesty, I can say that I do not know at this time. What I have learned is that alone time is not horrible.

Mine, all mine

I was sitting at work earlier this morning when J.T., an editor on the desk in New York, sent me an instant message telling me that 13 men trapped a coal mine in Upshur County, W.Va., were alive, two days after an explosion buried them underground.

I messaged him back, telling him I am not religious but to say Amen and that miracles do exist.

Apparently, they do not. Within three hours -- just as word spread before that the miners were alive -- they were, in fact, found dead. All but one named Randal McCloy Jr., a man with the stamp of Appalachia on his 27-year-old face. Married. Father of two young children. Hanging on.

The mix-up ... make that a fuck-up of monumental proportions, there is no other way to put it ... is horrific in its scope. Fault is being blamed on a "miscommunication." The families say the mining company told them they were alive. The mining company said nothing was official.

He said. She said.

I cannot imagine the grief and horror the families are going through. It's almost like seeing the bridge abutment that ends your life, except you keep clinging to it and cannot die.

And in an even more horrific twist -- thanks to CNN -- they just showed a copy of USA Today with the headline "12 miners found alive," apparently attributing it all to West Virginia Gov. Joe Manchin's office.

Oops. Happy 2006.

CNN just showed a clip of a woman -- sweatshirt, denim jacket, older, perhaps in her 50s -- imploring out loud to have someone explain what happened. How do you explain this? How can anyone begin to explain this complete about face.

You cannot. All you can do is send your thoughts, and yes, I suppose your prayers, to the dead miners and their families.

Dragging my way out of '05 ...

Just a few random thoughts headed into 2006 ...

... Good for Kansas City Chiefs coach Dick Vermeil to let his team know he was calling it quits at the end of the season. At 69, Vermeil decided family was more important. While any team can be like a family, it is not quite the same.

... There are WAY TOO MANY college football bowl games. Do we really need the Meinike Car Care Bowl? Bonus points if you can tell me who won and the final score.

... The Saints will play the 2006 season in Louisiana. As well they should. Now they seriously need to work on blowing that team up and starting over.

... There may be nothing more painful -- or comical for that matter -- than watching a kicker or punter make a tackle.

===

OK, so I have been terrible about updating this thing recently. The reason, oddly enough hasn't totally been because of the woman I have been seeing for the last six weeks or so ... it has been work.

With the New York desk shutting down on Jan. 15, more responsibilities are falling to us here in suburban Chicago. This is not a surprise. I knew this was going to happen coming in. Add that to writing assignments for the upcoming Olympics, and it makes for a very STRESSFUL life.

Up until a few days ago, I was in one of my poor sleep cycles -- couple hours here, stay up for a day, few hours there, stay up maybe a day and a half -- but thanks to better living through chemistry (Lunestra, to the rest of you -- Ha HA! Rest.) I have been getting some normal sleep in.

Don't get me wrong -- things are still great job-wise and all, but these next few weeks and months will be a test.

===

It's 15 hours, 57 minutes into 2006. How many resolutions have you broken?

The year 2005 was one of great change for me on so many levels. Started with a car wreck eight days in and says after I was named news editor of the paper I was working at in Eastern Connecticut. ... a four-month stop as an assistant news editor in Washington on business news desk (wasn't really horrible -- just not a challenge.) ... finished up here in suburban Chicago working in a field that probably suits me best.

To everyone out there ... Have a safe and happy 2006: may all the things you wish for come true.