I’ve been going back and forth on whether or not to purchase a Fisher Space Pen. Yeah, it’s only $20, but as a rule I hate writing with ballpoint pens! They seem to stick and glob and generally upset my delicate sensibilities!

But the Space Pen has received rave reviews and I’ve been tempted to purchase one, “just to see.”

Today we had an all-hands “company coffee” to discuss the general state-of-affairs of the company. During this meeting I spied someone using what looked to be a Bullet. After the meeting I ambled over and asked if it was indeed a Space pen.

He said it was, and it was one of the best pens he’s ever used. He said he started carrying it about 2 years ago because it was small enough to put in his pocket and forget about. I asked to borrow it to see how it wrote and - for a ballpoint pen - it wrote beautifully!

Now I’m on a mission to get one for myself! I may become a born-again-ballpoint-believer after all.

I might be on to something with my MiLO (more information coming soon) and my Hipster PDA. I’m very uncomfortable with these tools right now and I keep wanting to reach back to my normal and familiar planning and task tools I’ve been using for so long now.

I’m outside of my comfort zone. That usually means I’m nearing a breakthrough. If I can stay disciplined enough and make the transition from one planning system to a (hopefully) more efficient planning and task-tracking system.

I’ve already received some interested looks over my D.I.Y. Planning Cards from co-workers.

If you’re not sure what all these words and acronyms mean, head over to 43Folders and start reading. If you’re a personal-producivity junkie you’ll be hooked on Merlin’s musings!

It was getting a little crowded in Heaven, so God decided to change the admittance policy. The new law was that in order to get into Heaven, you had to have a really bummer day on the day that you died.

The policy would go into effect at noon the next day.

So, the next day at 12:01 the first person came to the gates of Heaven.

The Angel at the gate, remembering the new policy, promptly asked the man, “Before I let you in, I need you to tell me how your day was going when you died.”

“No problem,” the man said. I came home to my 25th-floor apartment on my lunch hour and caught my wife having an affair. But her lover was nowhere in sight. I immediately began searching for him. My wife was half naked and yelling at me as I searched the entire apartment.

Just as I was about to give up, I happened to glance out onto the balcony and noticed that there was a man hanging off the edge by his fingertips! The nerve of that guy!

Well, I ran out onto the balcony and stomped on his fingers until he fell to the ground. But wouldn’t you know it, he landed in some trees and bushes that broke his fall and he didn’t die.

This ticked me off even more.

In a rage, I went back inside to get the first thing I could get my hands on to throw at him. Oddly enough, the first thing I thought of was the refrigerator. I unplugged it, pushed it out onto the balcony, and tipped it over the side.

It plummeted 25 stories and crushed him! The excitement of the moment was so great that I had a heart attack and died almost instantly.”

The Angel sat back and thought a moment. Technically, the guy did have a bad day. It was a crime of passion. So, the Angel announced, “OK sir. Welcome to the Kingdom of Heaven,” and let him in.

A few seconds later the next guy came up. To the Angel’s surprise, it was Donald Trump. “Mr. … Trump, before I can let you in, I need to hear about what your day was like when you died.”

Trump said, “No problem. But you’re not going to believe this. I was on the balcony of my 26th floor apartment doing my daily exercises. I had been under a lot of pressure so I was really pushing hard to relieve my stress. I guess I got a little carried away, slipped, and accidentally fell over the side!

Luckily, I was able to catch myself by the fingertips on the balcony below mine. But all of a sudden this crazy man comes running out of his apartment, starts cussing, and stomps on my fingers. Well, of course I fell. I hit some trees and bushes at the bottom, which broke my fall, so I didn’t die right away.

As I’m laying there face up on the ground, unable to move and in excruciating pain, I see this guy push his refrigerator of all things off the balcony. It falls the 25 floors and lands on top of me, killing me instantly.”

The Angel is quietly laughing to himself as Trump finishes his story. “I could get used to this new policy,” he thinks to himself. “Very well,” the Angel announces, “welcome to the Kingdom of Heaven,” and he lets Trump enter.

A few seconds later, Bill Clinton comes up to the gate. The Angel is almost too shocked to speak. Thoughts of assassination and war pour through the Angel’s head. Finally he says “Mr. President, please tell me what it was like the day you died.”

Clinton says, “OK, picture this. I’m naked inside a refrigerator…

Over this last weekend I mentioned at a family get together that I had drunk a real, full calorie Coke and how good it was after drinking nothing but Diet Coke for months. I lamented that it was extremely difficult to go back to drinking Diet Coke after getting a taste of the “Real Thing” in my system.

My sister asked if I had tried the new Coke Zero to which I said, “Why no I haven’t! What the heck is Coke Zero?”

She said it was a zero-calorie Coke that tasted, “Just like the real Coke, but with no calories! She said she was hooked and advised me to give it a go.

Cut to Sunday afternoon - I’m standing in the checkout line at the store and they have cooler-endcaps with drinks at the registers. I look into the case and see some cold bottles of Coke Zero. So I decided to give it a try and see if was on the level.

I wasn’t sure what to expect with the first sip. I let the carbonated liquid wash my tounge. It had that “bite” that Coke has. I slowly swished it around my mouth and swallowed. The flavor was reasonably “Cokeish”. So far so good…

Then came the aftertaste. That bastard aspartame had struck again, leaving my mouth stinging with that “fake sugar” aftertaste that I hate. It wasn’t as bad a Diet Coke, but it wasn’t Coke either. It was almost like a photocopy of Coke - a vague shadow of the “Real Thing”, but not quite right.

It’s definetely not Diet Coke either. It has an all together different flavor than Diet Coke. I have grown to like (okay, I’ve grown to accept) the flavor of Diet Coke. Coke Zero is a shell of what Coke might be in it’s later years; a hint of what made it great, yet you see the tragic end near.

Will Coke Zero find a niche? Maybe. I’ll probably stick with Diet (better the devil you know than the devil you don’t) and maybe go 50/50 every once in a while for my sugar fix.

Hey, Coke, here’s an idea; why don’t you make “Coke-20″? Give me something with enough sugar I know it’s really Coke, but only a handful of calories. I can rationalize sitting down and having a couple of 20 calorie Cokes with lunch, I can’t rationalize sitting down and having a couple of 200 calorie Cokes with lunch.

Our next door neighbors are odd. Sure, most next door neighbors are a little odd it seems, but ours are really odd. Let me give you a few examples of the oddness of our neighbors:

They always watch goings-on through the drapes. They know everything about the neighborhood.

So what I saw Saturday afternoon shouldn’t really surpise me at all, but it did. I was going through the house closing windows when I heard an odd “whirring” sound. I looked through the front window and I saw the neighbor vacuuming the yard to pick up their grass clippings.

Just an hour earlier I had seen them raking the yard and bagging the clippings, but apparently that wasn’t enough. They were actually vacuuming the yard.

So about the time you think you live next to the oddest neighbors in the world, just remember they could be vacuuming their yard.

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls.

He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between golf balls.

He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else.

He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous “yes.”

The professor then produced two cans of beer from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

“Now,” said the professor, as the laughter subsided, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things–your family, your children, your health, your friends, your favorite passions–things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.

“The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car.

The sand is everything else–the small stuff.

“If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued, “there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal.

“Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.”

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the beer represented.

The professor smiled. “I’m glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of beers.”

This last Thursday wasn’t just Cinco De Mayo, it was also the day we as a nation moved a little closer toward a complete totalitarian state. The US House passed an “emergency spending” bill which included a rider for the Real ID Act.

Incase you’re not familiar with it, the Real ID Act is designed to force states to design their driver’s licenses to comply with federal antiterrorist standards. This could curb Americans’ access to everything from airplanes to national parks and some courthouses.

Starting three years from now, if you live or work in the United States, you’ll need a federally approved ID card to travel on an airplane, open a bank account, collect Social Security payments, or take advantage of nearly any government service.

This bill passed through the US House by a vote of 368-58, only three republicans voted against it.

This Real ID Act has been attached to an “emergency” military spending bill because it’s difficult for politicians to vote against money that will go to the troops in Iraq and tsunami relief.

This bill absolutely has my blood boiling. It tramples all over the concept of States’ Rights and it’s a major step toward the restriction of free travel by innocent Americans. Today the Real ID - tomorrow you’ll have to “show papers” to cross a state border. You can laugh all you want, that day is coming.

The thing that bothers me the most is all the goddamn “sheeple” who tremble at the mention of the word “terrorist” and believe measures like the Real ID Act are designed to keep them safe.

It will do little to stop criminals, because criminals have never cared about the rules, but decent citizens will have to jump through hoops and come to accept presenting papers to travel in-country just like the Soviets we looked down on.

I have always been a conservative, I’ve always leaned towards the Republican way of thinking. However I cannot cotton to the fact that this measure has been steamrolled through the House by the Republicans, lauded by Bush and likely to face no opposition in the Senate because of Republican control.

Why, I’m starting to feel more liberal every day. I still think John Kerry is a dingus, but I seriously doubt he could fuck things up as badly as Bush is managing.

Shame on all of us. This is happening and we’re doing nothing to stop it! We need to get out and scream at our politicians to STOP! Stop the nonsense in the name of security. It doesn’t provide any and it just insults everyone’s’ intelligence.

Canada looks more inviting every single day.