<?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-6962910495028486349</id><updated>2011-11-27T19:52:40.341-05:00</updated><category term='publicity'/><category term='heart-attack'/><category term='Aiden'/><category term='ouch'/><category term='race car shirt'/><category term='McDonald&apos;s'/><category term='Travel'/><category term='Britney Spears'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='Air Force Recruiting'/><category term='scary gay man'/><category term='oops'/><category term='first'/><category term='worldwide dream'/><category term='note to self'/><category term='Vacation'/><category term='Momence'/><category term='self-sanitizing toilet seat'/><title type='text'>TransparentPublicity</title><subtitle type='html'>&lt;b&gt;trans·par·ent (adjective):&lt;/b&gt; &lt;em&gt;open; frank; candid&lt;/em&gt; &lt;br&gt;
&lt;b&gt;pub·lic·i·ty (noun):&lt;/b&gt; &lt;em&gt;Information concerning a person, group, event, or product that is disseminated through media to attract public notice&lt;/em&gt;</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>26</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-3185841448880930044</id><published>2010-12-08T16:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T16:55:33.746-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Neil Postman, Technology and Culture</title><content type='html'>Greetings faithful blog readers (Read: mom and possibly some classmates from COML 509)! This will be my third and final blog post for the COML 509 Series. However, be not dismayed! I have some interesting life developments that should be coming to fruition in the near future, and I will do my absolute best to narcissistically keep you informed via this blog site. I mean, what could be better than an entire webpage devoted to my life developments? You are correct: nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this post, I am going to do two things. First, I am going to give you a brief introduction to one of my favorite authors, cultural critic Neil Postman. Second, we’re going to look at one of the key generalizations Postman makes and then consider whether there is any merit to his claim. In the end, not only do I hope we all have a little better knowledge of Postman and some of his work, but also a better understanding of how awareness of some of Postman’s principles can help enhance our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neil_Postman"&gt;Neil Postman&lt;/a&gt;, born March 8, 1931, is best known for his criticism of technology in books such as Amusing Ourselves to Death and Technopoly. In addition to these two books, Postman wrote an additional 16 books and more than 200 articles for magazines and newspapers. Because of his strong viewpoint, Postman can evoke emotions in his readers ranging from complete cynicism to full support. Postman wasn’t completely pessimistic in his outlook, but he did have strong feelings about the impacts that technology is having, and could have, on society as a whole. While not exclusively humanistic in principle, many of the opinions Postman gives in his work can be attributed to his humanist worldview.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that we’ve very briefly looked at Postman as a person, let’s take a look at a couple “generalizations” he made in his 1992 book, Technopoly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In talking about technological change, Postman claims that it is neither additive nor subtractive, but rather ecological. In other words, Postman claims that when it comes to technological change, “One significant change generates total change.” While not as chaotic in theory as something like the “&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Butterfly_effect"&gt;butterfly effect&lt;/a&gt;,” where a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil can set off a tornado in Texas, Postman essentially argues that culture cannot remain the same with the introduction of a significant new technology. Is this an oversimplification? I would argue that it is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Think of a significant technology introduced in the last 100 years. The Wright Brothers flew in 1903, and the Model T was introduced in 1908. The first communication satellite was launched into space in 1958. The atomic bomb was first tested in 1945. Were these additive technologies, or did their invention completely change our society? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might be thinking to yourself right now, “well you’ve picked some of the most influential technologies ever invented! Of course they changed things.” Well then let’s consider some more minor technologies such as the light bulb, typewriter, toothbrush or scissors. Whether we will admit it or not, even each of those minor technologies has changed our society. Rock-Paper-Scissors, anyone? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If we can agree that significant technology absolutely changes culture, then the next question we have to ask ourselves is, “what is the impact of that change?” Postman states, “[It] is a mistake to suppose that any technological innovation has a one-sided effect.” For example, the airplane is a wonderful invention that has enabled us to traverse the globe in hours as opposed to months. However, the plane also makes it possible to attend business meetings 2,000 miles away. Well that’s a positive, right? Not always. What if the meeting happens to be scheduled for the week of your child’s first birthday? In the not too distant past, there would be little expectation for someone to attend a meeting outside of your local community due to the infeasibility of traveling such a long distance. Now, with the convenience of air travel, many employees are not only expected to make such trips, but also to be available to make them on short notice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is just one example out of many that testifies to the dual impact of technology. Television both entertains and desensitizes. Computers enable the sharing of both ideas and child pornography. Guns can be used to both protect the peace and incite violence. All that said, I believe, and Postman would agree, that technology is not inherently evil! In fact, Postman and I would both be hypocrites if we claimed it was since we have both relied on the technology of printed language to convey our thoughts. However, some final conclusions can, and arguably should, be made in light of the dual nature of technology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, you’ve heard it said before and the same is true of technology: education is the key to prevention. We should never assume that technology is good or that just because something is newer it is better. It is our job to be both responsible citizens and consumers by educating ourselves on the technology we chose to utilize.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This leads to the second conclusion, we need to be aware of the potential consequences of the technologies we use. For example, a new laptop computer may make writing emails to friends or following a web-based recipe much easier, but what will the drawbacks be? Perhaps you or your loved ones will now spend more time on the internet now that it is so portable, taking away time that used to be spent together. A notorious drawback of the cell phone, an amazing technology which gives us the ability to contact people whenever we need to, is the creation of the compulsive texter. I can’t remember the last time I went out to eat with friends where our conversation wasn’t interrupted by a text-based conversation. A social faux pas of the past has now become common place thanks to the convenience of mobile-based communication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we must evaluate our “values” and then evaluate the potential impacts that technology could have on them. If “family” is our priority, then perhaps the new two-seater sports car isn’t such a great idea. If we value privacy, then we may want to stay away from a public Facebook page. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In closing, there is no doubt that technology can enhance our lives. However, when we choose to allow a new technology into our lives, we must do so, as Postman puts it, “with our eyes wide open.” For the most part, technology has no moral value. It is our personal application of technology that dictates the moral consequences of its use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;References &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.livescience.com/technology/090803-top10-inventions-1.html"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-family: Calibri;"&gt;http://www.livescience.com/technology/090803-top10-inventions-1.html&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Technopoly: the Surrender of Culture to Technology&lt;/em&gt; (1992)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-3185841448880930044?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/3185841448880930044/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=3185841448880930044' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/3185841448880930044'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/3185841448880930044'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2010/12/neil-postman-technology-and-culture.html' title='Neil Postman, Technology and Culture'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-2880485831883145984</id><published>2010-11-23T16:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T16:56:11.035-05:00</updated><title type='text'>News: Truth or Narrative?</title><content type='html'>In his essay, The Grisly Truth About Bare Facts, Carlin Romano makes the following claim:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;“If journalists understood – as some philosophers and scientists increasingly do - that what they present to the reader is not a mirror image of the truth, but a coherent narrative of the world that serves particular purposes, what the press covers could become more flexible and better suited to our needs as readers and writers.” &lt;/blockquote&gt;For this, my second blog post in The COML 509 Series, we are going to discuss three key aspects of this claim. First, we’ll look briefly at some definitions for “truth.” After all, if we are going to be having a full-blown discussion on the claim that journalism is NOT the “mirror image of truth,” then we should at least know what our definition of truth is, right? Second, we’ll look at some ways in which the news can help provide us with a “coherent narrative.” Finally, we’ll discuss Romano’s final claim: that readers need a “coherent narrative” as opposed to “truth.” Shouldn’t the two be the same? Or perhaps a more important question, how are the two different?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let us begin!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again starting with one of my favorite sites, &lt;a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/truth"&gt;Dictionary.com&lt;/a&gt; has eleven different definitions for truth. (Slightly ironic, don’t ya think?) The most basic definition defines truth as “conformity with fact or reality.” The most complex definition states that truth is, “ideal or fundamental reality apart from and transcending perceived experience.” Taking those two definitions, ask yourself this question: Does the news report the truth? I would argue that it does not. I would also argue that the majority of readers/viewers would agree with me. A quick web search will confirm that I am right, but only slightly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to a &lt;a href="http://www.gallup.com/poll/143267/Distrust-Media-Edges-Record-High.aspx"&gt;September 2010 Gallup Poll&lt;/a&gt;, fifty-seven percent of Americans say they have “they have little or no trust in the mass media to report the news fully, accurately, and fairly.” Fifty-seven percent! This number seems rather low to me considering the fact that our only exposure to some of the more salient social issues is via news media. For example, I would have no idea what side Presidential candidates take on political or social issues if it weren’t for the news. Yet I’m supposed to cast an educated vote for one of them with a mean average of confidence in the range of forty-three percent? This would seem a bit risky, but “43%” is only an issue if you are looking to the news for truth. And as Romano claims, we shouldn’t be. We should be looking to the news for a “coherent narrative.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If more journalists and consumers would view news as a narrative as opposed to straight, truthful fact, I believe that criticism would increase on both sides of the fence, leading to a news source that is, as Romano states, “more flexible and better suited to our needs.” Why? Because people don’t question facts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;At sea level, water freezes at 32 degrees Fahrenheit. &lt;br /&gt;Humans can’t fly unaided. &lt;br /&gt;One plus one equals two. &lt;/blockquote&gt;These are facts that the average person will not question. However, average people question narratives often. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;“Dude, I met the hottest girl last night!”&lt;br /&gt;“I’m sorry, officer. I’m just really late for an appointment.”&lt;br /&gt;“I really wanted to come to your party last night, but something popped up.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;We can easily see how these examples of every day conversation cause us to react differently than we would to statements of fact. As opposed to blindly accepting them as fact, we view them more skeptically, more critically. We look to additional sources of information such as body language, past experience with the person and perceived credibility in order to enhance the narrative and determine its “truth.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what then happens when journalists and consumers assume that the news is truth? Bottom line, we view it differently than we would a narrative. Take the following example from this &lt;a href="http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2010/11/23/woman-told-obama-exhausted-loses-job/"&gt;recent news story&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;“The woman who told President Barack Obama that she was ‘exhausted’ from defending him and his economic policies and waiting for the change she expected after voting for him has another reason to be put out: She's lost her job.”&lt;/blockquote&gt;There are elements of truth in this story. First, the woman mentioned did in fact tell President Obama that she was “exhausted” from defending him. Second, she did lose her job. However, if we just look at those two pieces of information simply as truth as opposed to pieces of a larger narrative, we can come to an unsubstantiated conclusion: that this woman lost her job because she “talked back” to President Obama. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the story goes on to state that the woman lost her job as part of her organization’s attempt to cut expenses, but even the story’s headline, “Woman ‘Exhausted’ Defending Obama Loses Job,” seeks to establish “truth” where it most likely does not exist. In fact, if this woman did not lose her job because of her perceived insubordination, then does this story even have news value? People are laid off every day. Why is this woman special just because she spoke up at a town hall meeting? The answer: she’s special because the news media is attempting to connect the two events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now how might this story have been handled differently if journalists viewed their job as creating a coherent narrative? First off, I don’t think this story would have run at all. Second, the reporter might have done a more thorough job of trying to find the facts that prove these two events were related. In my mind, this story is an excellent example of how the media attempted to create truth under the guise of narrative, and in doing so did a disservice to their readers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now that we have discussed some definitions of truth and given a concrete example of how the media can create either truth or narrative, let’s move on to the final section of this post. Why do consumers need narrative as opposed to “truth”?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe this answer can be summed up rather easily: because, in many cases, truth is subjective. When it comes to major issues, “truth” can be dependent upon values or morals, hidden information, perception, opinion, and a countless number of other factors that can reside at individual and societal levels. People need news in narrative form in order to better make sense of that information within the larger context of their lives. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, a prevailing “truth” that currently exists is that Republicans are conservative and Democrats are liberal. Disguised as truth, these two statements would make voting for most people pretty straightforward. Those who tend to be conservative in their viewpoints would vote Republican, and those who are more liberal would vote Democrat. However, we don’t get the whole story when the news uses these two statements of fact. Did you know that there are such things as Liberal Republicans and Conservative Democrats? How about a Democrat who is liberal on social policies, but tends to be more conservative with fiscal policies? Without narrative, none of these “truths” would be revealed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a four-year old son, and I have told him a few times now, “if you’re not telling me the whole truth, than you are lying.” To me, this seems to be a foundational lesson, learned early in life, that journalists and consumers forget when it comes to the news.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-2880485831883145984?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/2880485831883145984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=2880485831883145984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/2880485831883145984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/2880485831883145984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2010/11/news-truth-or-narrative.html' title='News: Truth or Narrative?'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-2624192008058768346</id><published>2010-11-09T17:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T17:40:34.119-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Internet: Global village or community killer?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Good afternoon, readers of my blog! Whether you are one of my classmates from &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.gonzagaonline.com/online-masters-communication.asp"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;COML 509, Social Dynamics of Communication Technology&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;, or one of the three people who occasionally perused my ramblings before I stopped writing a while ago, welcome! While everyone from my class knows exactly why I am making this post right now, I’d like to take a brief moment to explain my return to the blogosphere to anyone else who might have stumbled upon this post, whether by mistake, misguided interest, or pure boredom.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As I mentioned above, I am currently enrolled in COML (that stands for Communication &amp;amp; Leadership) 509, a Master’s-level class at Gonzaga University. For this class, we are required to write three short reflective papers (approximately 2-3 pages) on various aspects of computer-mediated communication, or CMC.  To spice things up, our forward-thinking teacher (big shout out to Assistant Professor Nobuya Inagaki) has given us the option to either write these papers in a traditional format or post them to a blog. For me, this was a no-brainer! Not only will I be able to avoid some of the annoying nuances of a more formal paper, but it also makes sharing my genius with the “cyberverse” as easy as posting a link. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You’re welcome.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Now that that’s out of the way, let us continue on to the meat of this blog post. During the discussion portion of this class, we were given a list of questions to consider. In this post, I would like to discuss just one of these questions. Now I say “discuss” as opposed to “answer” because the blog format affords every reader the opportunity to contribute to the conversation. I chose this particular question because, in a class designed to study the implications of CMC, I believe it is one of the most important questions we can discuss. The topic we will be discussing is:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Has the internet contributed to the construction of a global village or to the destruction of community?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oooooh…exciting! Let us begin.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As a precursor to the discussion, I think it’s important that we define “community.” Here are the first three definitions according to &lt;a href="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/community"&gt;dictionary.com&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;1. A social group of any size whose members reside in a specific locality, share government, and often have a common cultural and historical heritage.&lt;br /&gt;2. A locality inhabited by such a group.&lt;br /&gt;3. A social, religious, occupational, or other group sharing common characteristics&lt;br /&gt;or interests and perceived or perceiving itself as distinct in some respect from the larger society within which it exists (usually prec. by the ): the business community; the community of scholars&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;For our purposes, each definition can work. Definition 3 may seem to fit the best since it eliminates the factor of a shared locality. However, when we consider that the internet is as much a locality for information and socialization as a library or local bar would be, the first two definitions make sense as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that we have defined “community,” we are one step closer to determining the impact the internet has had on it.  Neil Postman, a popular &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neil_Postman"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;media theorist and cultural critic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; once (or maybe more times) said, “Technology always has unforeseen consequences, and it is not always clear, at the beginning, who or what will win, and who or what will lose” (&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/41963.Neil_Postman"&gt;Source cite&lt;/a&gt;).  So what have been the “unforeseen consequences” of the internet? Who wins with the internet? Who loses?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know some who would claim that the internet and other forms of CMC are simply meant to be extensions of face-to-face communication. In fact, the concept of &lt;a href="http://www.suite101.com/content/origin-of-the-internet-a52825"&gt;the internet was originally created &lt;/a&gt;by the Defense Department as a way to communicate in the event of a nuclear war, an event that would make face-to-face communication impossible in many situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Internet aside, there is little question that, up until the advent of communication technologies such as the printing press and telegraph, the ability to communicate face-to-face formed the basis for most “villages” or communities. If not already accomplished by older technologies, the internet has completely obliterated the need for two people to be face-to-face in order to communicate. Additionally, it would seem that the internet has significantly increased our ability to connect with people who share common characteristics or interests: two factors necessary to form community according to our definition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with all of this in mind, it seems safe to claim that the internet has indeed helped construct a sort of global village. While not physical locations, sites like Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, Match.com and eHarmony have definitely become gathering places for millions of people all around the world, making them mega virtual villages in their own rights. &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/press/info.php?statistics"&gt;Facebook&lt;/a&gt; alone operates in approximately 70 translations for its more than 500,000 users. Did I mention that people spend more than 700 billion minutes PER MONTH on Facebook? If I did my math right, that’s a combined 1.3 million years spent on Facebook every month. Now Rome wasn’t built in a day, but the world’s largest skyscraper, Burj Khalifa2, was built in approximately 22 million man-hours. If we took the “man-hours” spent on Facebook each day and used them to build skyscrapers, we would have 17 by close of business. In my book, that classifies as a small-to-medium sized village.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when it comes to the internet, Neil Postman was right. Created to allow for communication after a nuclear holocaust, the unforeseen consequence of the internet is the ability to easily waste (in this grad student’s opinion) a fairly significant amount of time. Who wins in this scenario? Well obviously Facebook is doing pretty well. Who loses? We’ll start to answer this…right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can safely assume that the internet has helped construct a global village. However, has this construction of a global village contributed to the overall destruction of community? Since this is only supposed to be a three page reflective paper and not a 40-page research project, I’m going to keep things somewhat simple. My answer: it depends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not everyone uses the internet the same way. For some (and most likely a shrinking minority), the internet is simply a tool, another resource they can use to enhance their life. For others, however, the internet has become almost necessary for their survival. Online banking, shopping, scheduling, troubleshooting and socializing can all be done online. To steal a recent status message from one of my friends, who will remain anonymous, “Who will become my 400th friend? The Internet says I have 399 friends, but my Friday nights say I have, like, 2.” Ouch. That quote hits home in a kind of painful way! Personally, I haven’t spoken to a bank teller in well over a year. Most of my Christmas shopping this year will be done on Amazon.com. I share stories about my kids with friends over Facebook. Three events that would traditionally be accomplished via a face-to-face encounter have been reduced to me, a keyboard and a conglomeration of binary, bits, packets and code that completely baffle me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a way, the internet has dissolved some of the personal connections in my community. The internet has also created other connections, but none as personal as human-to-human interaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the flip side, I am currently writing a blog post that has the potential to be seen by tens and tens of people (I try to keep my expectations realistic). While I will most likely have a personal connection with a few of the readers, the vast majority (including my professor and classmates) will probably be people with whom I have never had a face-to-face conversation. In this way, the internet has constructed personal connections for me in a virtual community that would have never existed otherwise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So has the internet destroyed community? In a way, yes. In another way, no. But I’m just one person in this global village. What is your opinion?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Online references&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.suite101.com/content/origin-of-the-internet-a52825"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;http://www.suite101.com/content/origin-of-the-internet-a52825&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burj_Khalifa"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burj_Khalifa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/press/info.php?statistics"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;http://www.facebook.com/press/info.php?statistics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/41963.Neil_Postman"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;http://www.goodreads.com/author/quotes/41963.Neil_Postman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-2624192008058768346?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/2624192008058768346/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=2624192008058768346' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/2624192008058768346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/2624192008058768346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2010/11/internet-global-village-or-community.html' title='Internet: Global village or community killer?'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-9177954248680608099</id><published>2009-02-07T14:31:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T14:43:50.686-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What...what happened? How did we get here?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SY3jfnMQCBI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ZXLMsM-eWvY/s1600-h/3250876846_3fd30829c8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300142468720756754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SY3jfnMQCBI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ZXLMsM-eWvY/s400/3250876846_3fd30829c8.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is how I feel, as the last two weeks have been an absolute blur. Kai's picture sums it up well. A lot has been going on since Jan 17, so I'll try to keep things as organized as possible while I progress through the period of our life I will refer to as "The 'AHHHHHH!!!!1!*' Period (TAP).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jan 17 - Present&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll start with the events that have going on for the entirety of TAP as they set a good basis for the "A" in TAP. Hang with me through these less interesting parts, and I promise it will get better. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am currently in the middle of two academic classes that are consuming the vast majority of my free time. The first class is COML 501: Methods of Organizational Research. It's an online graduate class that's part of &lt;a href="http://www.gonzagaonline.com/online-masters-communication.asp"&gt;Gonzaga's MA in Communication and Leadership&lt;/a&gt;. I won't go into much detail apart from the fact that it has required upwards of 300 pages of rather dry reading, a hypothesis formulation and a 12-page intro, literature review and hypothesis introduction.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next class is really a bunch of classes put together, called &lt;a href="http://www.au.af.mil/au/soc/cgolp/index.htm"&gt;Squadron Officer School&lt;/a&gt;. It's one of the Air Force's Professional Military Education requirements. There are two ways to complete SOS: in-residence or by correspondence. Completing it "in-residence" looks better on your military resume, but in order to get a slot to attend in-residence, you pretty much have to complete it by correspondence first. Slightly confused as to the logic of that? So am I. Whatever. When you enroll in the correspondence course, you are given one-year to complete it. My goal is 8 weeks. You know what they say: shoot for the moon...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jan 17 - Jan 31&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Now on to a smaller time frame. Despite the busyness of school, this was a pretty fun time as we were getting ready for &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/sets/72157613281876011/"&gt;Aiden's 3rd birthday&lt;/a&gt;. We had plans to drive up to Teaneck, NJ to go to the Children's Museum of NJ and to hang out with some good friends that we hadn't seen in a while. This was the first birthday where Aiden actually understood what was going on, so it was both hilarious and heart-breaking when he would tell us on a daily basis, "It's my birthday today. Can I open presents?" I think we ended up letting him open one on a particularly pathetic day, but it barely made a dent in the huge pile he had accumulated from family and friends. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The day prior to our leaving for Teaneck, Kate made Aiden's much anticipated cake. Initially, he had insisted on a sheet cake with a T-rex on top. He changed his mind short-notice to a rather complicated triceratops cake. Of course, Kate is Supermom, so she took on the challenge. The &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/3250885908/"&gt;results were pretty amazing&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When all was said and done, the cake was eaten, presents were opened, Aiden had fun at the party, and Kate and I had a great time hanging out with good friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feb 1&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all was not said and done. February 1 may have changed our lives forever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Note: Slight exaggeration may occur in the next few paragraphs)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On February 1, 2009, Kate and I decided that we would stop by Ikea on the way home from Teaneck to buy our son a new bed. It was his birthday, we had just received our tax refund, and we were sick of Aiden waking up in the middle of the night because he had whacked his head while rolling over. Seemed like the perfect time. As we entered the store, all felt right in the world. Nothing in particular had happened, that's just the way Ikea makes you feel. :::Siiiiigh:::&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we rode up the elevator to the showroom floor, Kate and I let out a collective squeal as we simultaneously spotted the sign for the "Ikea Children's Playplace" We had seen this wonderland last time we were at Ikea, but were not able to take advantage of it since Aiden wasn't potty-trained. But now, Aiden could pop-a-squat with the best of 'em, and we were about to embark on an Ikea adventure whilst our eldest son frolicked in the supervised gloriousness of twisting slides, tumbling mats and an oceanesque ball-pit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One height measurement and a kiss later, Kate and I were free to roam the store with only sweet Kai, who is more like a miniature cherub than a human child, while our "spirited" boy dashed off towards Toddler Utopia. As we passed the large plate glass window looking into the playplace, I looked up to see Aiden do a perfect belly flop off a three-foot platform into the ballpit. He emerged with a look that can only be described as rapturous, and immediately made his way back to the platform for another go. Kate and I smiled, Kai gave us a look that said, "Finally, just the three of us. I promise to meet every expectation you have of me for this trip. If I get hungry, tired or deficate in my diaper, I will politely let you know my screwing up my nose and letting out the tiniest, closed-lipped whine" and we rounded the corner into the Ikea Children's Section.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing of note occured in the next 45 minutes. We picked out a bed, mattress, a sweet tent canopy for the new bed, some shelves and a few little odds and ends that Ikea masterfully places around the store. At one point, a lady asked where we had picked up the beautiful angel sculpture. We explained that it was actually our son. She blushed and apologized, we smiled, Kai politely nodded and we went on our way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we picked up Aiden, his hair was a mess, his face was red and sweaty, and in a feat that would have confused any other parent, his shirt was on backwards and he was wearing some other kid's pants. Business as usual. As we cheerfully made our way to the downstairs showroom and furniture pick-up, we had no reason to suspect that our wonderful day had already begun to sour.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once downstairs, we strolled through the meandering aisle that leads towards the checkout and through another few thousand square feet of amazing Ikea merchandise. Aiden was slightly worn out at this point, so I had him in one cart, and Kate was pushing Kai in another. When we arrived at the floor rug section of the showroom, I walked to the right of the aisle to browse the huge area rugs, and Kate veered off to the left to peruse some other treasures. Aiden was visably tired at this point, and it was then that he triggered the total ruin of our day with four little words:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Daddy, I want Mommy."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure, buddy," I replied, and I lifted him out of his seat and stood him on the floor. As he started off towards Kate, I turned and watched him to ensure he made it there safely. My eyes were not enough. As he approached the aisle, several things happened at once. First, Aiden went from walking to running. Second, I noticed that he was completely invisible to oncoming cart traffic as he was hidden behind a rather large table piled high with rugs. Third, Kate and I noticed that there was significant cart traffic. Fourth, we both yelled at Aiden to stop. Fifth, Aiden did not stop.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Aiden bolted out into the aisle, he found himself face-to-face with a rather menacing looking Ikea shopping cart driven by a particularly dazed looking customer. (I do not blame the customer for what happens next. Ikea dazes us all.) Time slowed down. Aiden clenched his jaw and half-squatted in preparation for the attack. The shopping cart surged forward, knowing full-well that its sheer size and metal composition gave it a distinct advantage. Aiden, looking like a Spartan warrior in a backwards shirt and too small pants, engaged the enemy. The outcome was swift and definitive. Aiden used his eye to parlay the initial blow, but as he repositioned for a retalitory strike, the cart quickly redirected its attack to Aiden's rather vulnerable forehead. The sound of iron striking skin and bone filled the store and was quickly replaced by the agonized cries of the fallen warrior. Aiden had been defeated. The shopping cart and its driver laughed mercilessly and continued on in search of its next victim. (Not really, but me telling the lady it wasn't her fault and her profusely apologizing doesn't really add to the story.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden was crying fairly hard, but no harder than any other toddler would be after having their butt handed to them by a large metal object. He was holding his forehead, and I knelt down and gently removed his hand to see how large the bump was. There was no bump. At least, I couldn't see one under the blood that was smeared and streaming down his face. I quickly put my hand back on his forehead, and as calmly as a could said to Kate, "Um, he's bleeding quite a bit. Do you have a rag." Kate fished a cloth out of our diaper bag, and a rather nice older lady handed us a handful of wet wipes from a packet she was carrying around in her purse. As I held the rag on his head, I readied a wet wipe to clean away the blood and survey the real damage. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit that from the amount of blood, I was prepared to see skull, multiple lacerations, or a piece of shopping cart embedded in his head. As a wiped the blood, my heart dropped...then soared. About two inches above and to the left of his left eye, there was a cut about a quarter-inch in length. I'd seen pimples that looked worse. It was still bleeding pretty bad, but I knew that some direct pressure would be enough to stop the flow. My heart then soared even higher. Not because the wound was minor, but because I realized that my son was both brave and a military genius.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When encountered with a more powerful adversary, Aiden's courage had led him to stand his ground and attempt battle. However, in the heat of battle and amidst the fog of war, he realized that his sound judgement had been overshadowed by his enthusiasm for a good fight. He then had the presence of mind to change strategy mid-attack. While his wound wasn't incapacitating, he knew the speed at which it had been afflicted was indication that he was facing a more dominant opponent, and that defeat was inevitable. He then quickly changed to a new stategy: deception. While the tactics of the shopping cart were brutal, Aiden knew that it would still maintain its honor in battle. Based on this, Aiden knew the cart would no doubt cease its attack if it felt it had achieved victory. He was correct. All it took was a flop and a scream, and the cart ended the attack and went on its way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I picked my bloodied warrior up off the floor, I said, "I'm so proud of you, buddy. You were so brave." He didn't answer me, but as he looked over my shoulder towards the retreating cart, the look in his eyes reaffirmed my pride. His eyes were calm, confident and held a wisened look that said, "I underestimated you, foe. You may have won this battle, but rest assured my overconfident, metallic friend, you will lose the war." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to go back to Ikea to see what Aiden has planned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Feb 2 - Present&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;It's been a week since our Ikea adventure, and the results of that trip are still lingering. Remember when I said (about eight paragraphs up) that our day had already begun to sour? Well I guess Aiden picked up something from the ballpit. He has since passed it on to the rest of us. I took him in to the doctor on Wednesday, and he was diagnosed with a sinus infection and possible fluid behind the ear. Whatever virus Aiden got, Kate picked it up first, then Kai started coughing a bit, and finally my throat started to get scratchy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For our current situation, Kai is still coughing, Kate is upstairs sleeping with a cold that turned into an upper respiratory infection, and Aiden and I have just returned from the doctor because he had an allergic reaction to the antibiotics the doctor gave him for the sinus infection. I alone maintain health, and have been taking Vitamin C like there is no tomorrow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now you know how we got here.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*For those of you who don't know, the "1" in a line of exclamation points is an exponential factor roughly equivalent to a bajillion exclamation points.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-9177954248680608099?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/9177954248680608099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=9177954248680608099' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/9177954248680608099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/9177954248680608099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2009/02/whatwhat-happened-how-did-we-get-here_07.html' title='What...what happened? How did we get here?'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SY3jfnMQCBI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ZXLMsM-eWvY/s72-c/3250876846_3fd30829c8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-3346343983163495211</id><published>2009-01-17T22:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T22:30:51.407-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Overheard today...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SXKiT2xsAII/AAAAAAAAADM/33qnzlDvi7E/s1600-h/swiper.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292470974118887554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 120px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SXKiT2xsAII/AAAAAAAAADM/33qnzlDvi7E/s400/swiper.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Mom! &lt;a href="http://www.nickjr.co.uk/shows/dora/swiper.aspx"&gt;Swiper&lt;/a&gt; swiped my underwear!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can imagine the rest. That is all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-3346343983163495211?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/3346343983163495211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=3346343983163495211' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/3346343983163495211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/3346343983163495211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2009/01/overheard-today.html' title='Overheard today...'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SXKiT2xsAII/AAAAAAAAADM/33qnzlDvi7E/s72-c/swiper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-4564631962987601216</id><published>2009-01-11T19:33:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T20:49:40.661-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What I've learned from Indiana Jones</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SWqhLvMmbOI/AAAAAAAAADE/xNQAfAFAMEc/s1600-h/IJ.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290217935320018146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 287px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SWqhLvMmbOI/AAAAAAAAADE/xNQAfAFAMEc/s400/IJ.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I watched Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull for the second time today. Why? Because this one time when I was on TDY (aka "a business trip") I got to see it in a theatre and my wife wasn't with me. So we rented from our Blockbuster Online account so she could watch it too. That's all. Nothing exciting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyways, getting back to the title of this post, here is what I've learned from IJATKOTCS (wow, that works so much better for movies like "High School Musical" and "Lord of the Rings") and the other Indiana Jones movies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;Archeologists are much cooler in movies&lt;/strong&gt;. Indiana Jones wears rugged explorer gear and has an awesome fedora. I recently saw a real-life archeologist, and he wore running shoes with slacks and tweed suit jacket. The only things he had were thick glasses and an effeminate persona.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;There is no obstacle that cannot be overcome with a bullwhip.&lt;/strong&gt; Rocky precipice? Bullwhip. Raging river? Bullwhip. Huge, angry German dude? Bullwhip. That sucker will wrap around anything and then you can swing away. Downside: unlike Spiderman's web, there must be SOMETHING for the bullwhip to wrap around. Upside: Spiderman's web doesn't make a terrifying "KWA-TCHSHHHHH!!" sound.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;If you fly your plane in a straight line, you will get there faster and without jet-lag. &lt;/strong&gt;The first time I took an international flight, they kept showing our flight path on the little TV screens. We left Atlanta and the morons took us all the way up past Greenland. I was freakin' exhausted for three days after we landed. They said the route had something to do with the "curve of the Earth" and "shortest route" but Indiana Jones has taught me better than that. We should have taken off, flown a straight red line to Florida, barely hit Florida and bounced off at a 75 degree angle onto another straight red line towards France, bounced off France at one more 45 degree angle and followed the straight line to Germany. We would have been there in 35 minutes, and I would have felt good enough to get in a fist fight with one of the larger, balder Deutchelanders. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. &lt;strong&gt;The bad guys always find an easier route.&lt;/strong&gt; Indiana Jones gets tossed over waterfalls, jumps out of planes without parachutes, rides rickety mineshaft cars and navigates labyrinths infested with poisionous creatures and booby traps. He fights and falls and problem solves and falls and runs and falls for fifteen minutes before he gets to his destination. And when he finally gets there, after all the blood, sweat and tears, who's waiting for him? The Nazis. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nazis:&lt;/strong&gt; "Hello Mr. Jones. We've been expecting you."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Indy:&lt;/strong&gt; "What the...how did you get here?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nazis:&lt;/strong&gt; "What? What do you mean?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Indy:&lt;/strong&gt; "Seriously! How did you get past the poison darts, the pit of lava and the 3,000 undead natives protecting their sacred ground?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nazis:&lt;/strong&gt; "Hmm. No idea what you're talking about. We just took those stairs over there."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Indy:&lt;/strong&gt; "You've gotta be kiddin' me, there were stairs?! Son of a...I can't believe I didn't see those."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nazi:&lt;/strong&gt; "Yeah, they were clearly labeled, but it sounds like you've had quite a little adventure. How did YOU get past all of that?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Indy:&lt;/strong&gt; "Bullwhip"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nazis: &lt;/strong&gt;"Ahhhh, bullwhip. Good thinking."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Indy:&lt;/strong&gt; "KWA-TCHSHHHHHHH!! :::exit Indiana Jones:::"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nazis: &lt;/strong&gt;"Indy, wait! Darn it, he always does that. All right, back to the stairs, boys. We'll head him off up top."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;and finally:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. &lt;strong&gt;Knowledge is worth more than treasure.&lt;/strong&gt; Indy said as much at the end of IJATKOTCS, and I agree. If Indy didn't have all that cool knowledge about ancient languages, archeological history, spooky legends, dangerous wildlife and advanced survival skills, he would have died long before ever finding the treasure that his knowledge is worth more than. So why is he looking for treasure if he already has knowledge that is worth more? Because he's freakin' Indiana Jones and the Ark of the Covenant attracts more babes than a speech on Mayan culture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;KWA-TCHSHHHH!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-4564631962987601216?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/4564631962987601216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=4564631962987601216' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4564631962987601216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4564631962987601216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-ive-learned-from-indiana-jones.html' title='What I&apos;ve learned from Indiana Jones'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SWqhLvMmbOI/AAAAAAAAADE/xNQAfAFAMEc/s72-c/IJ.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-4689387423114120006</id><published>2009-01-11T19:06:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T19:33:02.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tagged!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="PADDING-RIGHT: 3px; PADDING-LEFT: 3px; PADDING-BOTTOM: 3px; PADDING-TOP: 3px; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/2748019818/"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-TOP: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-LEFT: #000000 2px solid; BORDER-BOTTOM: #000000 2px solid" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3038/2748019818_3506aa3838.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="MARGIN-TOP: 0px;font-size:0;" &gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/2748019818/"&gt;IMG_2546&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/theoriginaldoyles/"&gt;dtdoyle&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;BlogTag2009 is blowin' up, and I've fallen casualty. Here be da rulz...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Choose the 4th folder where you store your pictures on your computer.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Select the 4th picture in the folder.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Explain the picture.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tag four people to do the same.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;No Cheating (cropping, editing, etc.)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;This is the fourth picture in the fourth folder, and here's the explanation: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's my hijo numero uno, Aiden. He's looking svelte in his size 6, Mickey Mouse edition Huggies Supreme diaper. It's pretty obvious that he's been throwin' some weights around judging by the well-defined biceps, lats, quads and four-pack abs, and that's probably why he's rockin' the &lt;strike&gt;Crest&lt;/strike&gt; Orajel Toddler Training Toothpaste smile. You'd be smiling too if you looked that good. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That's it! I now pass on the tag. However, since I only know like...two other people who read this blog and regularly update theirs, I'm only tagging two:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://szumkos.blogspot.com/"&gt;Capt. Christine Szumko&lt;/a&gt;: an outstanding AFROTC instructor and mother extraordinaire.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;a href="http://itreallyisadogslife.blogspot.com/"&gt;Super secret squirrel blogger&lt;/a&gt;: you know who you are.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thanks for reading. Peath out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-4689387423114120006?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/4689387423114120006/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=4689387423114120006' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4689387423114120006'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4689387423114120006'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2009/01/tagged-shmagged.html' title='Tagged!'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3038/2748019818_3506aa3838_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-5790316926852598924</id><published>2009-01-03T21:24:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T22:22:31.094-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A big "###" on the holiday break</title><content type='html'>For the last 10 days, I have been blissfully unfettered. No work. No school. No obligations. No pants. Just a long, relaxing break with Kate and the boys. (Just kidding about the "no pants" thing. I'm pretty sure I had a pair on when we went to the mall last Saturday.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually, at the end of a long break, I feel completely drained. The holiday excitement has ended, the disappointment of leaving friends and family has set in, and the adrenaline rush that accompanies getting an "enthusiasic" two-year old through airport security without it having to end in handcuffs or narcotics-grade medication has worn off and been replaced with a pounding headache and a blood-sealed vow of "Never Again". This year was different :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 10 days of wearing out my pajamas while hanging out with the family, reading books and playing Wii, I feel completely relaxed (apart from a sore bicep and shoulder from too much Wii Boom Bloxs). While I'm slightly disappointed that the break is ending, I feel confident that I'll be able to return to everyday life with better focus and fresh enthusiasm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knew that vacations could actually be relaxing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;###&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Three # symbols, centered directly underneath the last line of the release indicate the end of a press release&lt;/em&gt;. &lt;em&gt;Now you can't say I never taught you anything...unless you already knew that.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-5790316926852598924?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/5790316926852598924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=5790316926852598924' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/5790316926852598924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/5790316926852598924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2009/01/big-on-holiday-break.html' title='A big &quot;###&quot; on the holiday break'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-4076606787197040428</id><published>2009-01-01T20:56:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T22:38:22.880-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The exciting things of 2009</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SV168i1RI1I/AAAAAAAAAC8/zwc8DuGZmOI/s1600-h/HP.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286516718163796818" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 270px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SV168i1RI1I/AAAAAAAAAC8/zwc8DuGZmOI/s400/HP.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ok, so the new Harry Potter movie isn't what I'm MOST excited about in 2009. However, it's definitely on the list, and it was the first picture I thought of for a lead-in. Now that I'm going through the full list in my head, there are probably better pictures I could use but whatever, I've already uploaded it. Anyways, this list isn't going to be comprised of super cheezy things like "growing as a person " or "confronting the ghosts of my past" or "living and loving". These are events or activities that will have a definite date, time and place. On to the list!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The third and first birthdays of our &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/3149267854/"&gt;two sons&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;2. Kai's first crawl, walk, word, etc.&lt;br /&gt;3. Our third child. Kidding.&lt;br /&gt;4. Aiden starting preschool&lt;br /&gt;5. Our fourth wedding anniversary . Traditional gift: fruit and flowers. &lt;a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=fruit%20and%20flowers"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;6. My promotion to Captain aka pay raise&lt;br /&gt;7. Our first trip to "New York Citaaaay" &lt;br /&gt;8. The new season of &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0289142/"&gt;LOST&lt;/a&gt;. Err...I &lt;a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1431940/"&gt;mean&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Being half done with my &lt;a href="http://www.gonzagaonline.com/online-masters-leadership.asp"&gt;Master's degree&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. A kid-free vacation...fingers crossed&lt;br /&gt;11. Moving to a &lt;a href="http://tour.circlepix.com/tour.htm?id=592069&amp;amp;refurl=mcguiredixuc.com"&gt;new house&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. The new Harry Potter movie. Obviously.&lt;br /&gt;13. Making new friends at a new church and seeing old friends more often (this borders on "cheezy" but it's true and TECHNICALLY it will have a time, date and place.)&lt;br /&gt;14. Buying a new computer and large, flat-screened, HD TV.&lt;br /&gt;15. Getting &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Photorefractive_keratectomy"&gt;PRK&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. More paintball&lt;br /&gt;17. &lt;a href="http://www.daveramsey.com/"&gt;Making the final payment on the Honda Pilot we purchased last year&lt;/a&gt; :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm stopping the list there because those are the things that came to my head easily. I could spend another 15 minutes trying to get the list to 20, but then why not try for 25, or 30?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:::pregnant pause:::&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK fine, one more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. I'm looking forward to more stories like this (transcript below for those who don't speak "excitable toddler")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="382" height="317" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-c630785538c6d96" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0c630785538c6d96%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330293977%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5916FA7313908A116C7EC3241DE5537F9F492E7B.16ED39CC97ED06AD0BC7A71537BD7C857249251B%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc630785538c6d96%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DuhZSXJ1s1YE5VkAzm5VwxHwYCHw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="382" height="317" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D0c630785538c6d96%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330293977%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5916FA7313908A116C7EC3241DE5537F9F492E7B.16ED39CC97ED06AD0BC7A71537BD7C857249251B%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc630785538c6d96%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DuhZSXJ1s1YE5VkAzm5VwxHwYCHw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aiden:&lt;/strong&gt; (I gotta) get his binoculars and his spotting scope and his camera and his gun and shoot all those animals away. I hear something, daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; What’d you hear?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aiden:&lt;/strong&gt; A tiny, a, um a lion coming and starting to eat me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; What came?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aiden&lt;/strong&gt;:...and I’m gonna shoot the lion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; Oh a rhin..a lion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aiden:&lt;/strong&gt; Uh huh. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM! Oh no. The lion, the lion ran away. Oo, I hear another animal coming. This time it’s big and bad…what you think is coming?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; What’s coming?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aiden:&lt;/strong&gt; Ooh, um, a sp.., UUM, it’s a little spider.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me:&lt;/strong&gt; A little spider.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Aiden:&lt;/strong&gt; And the sp, and the little spider gets bigger, bigger, bigger, bigger, and BIGGER, and first, it was a giant spider! I’m gonna shoot that giant spider. :::grunts:: Can you pull this trigger so I can shoot the giant spider away, mom?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;END SCENE&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-4076606787197040428?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=c630785538c6d96&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/4076606787197040428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=4076606787197040428' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4076606787197040428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4076606787197040428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2009/01/exciting-things-of-2009.html' title='The exciting things of 2009'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SV168i1RI1I/AAAAAAAAAC8/zwc8DuGZmOI/s72-c/HP.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-3246359396423122202</id><published>2008-12-30T21:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-30T21:14:17.363-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Talkative Nugget</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left; padding: 3px;"&gt;&lt;object type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="500" height="375" data="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=63881" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000"&gt; &lt;param name="flashvars" value="intl_lang=en-us&amp;amp;photo_secret=ae9541e8a4&amp;amp;photo_id=3152364314&amp;amp;show_info_box=true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=63881"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#000000"&gt;&lt;/param&gt; &lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.flickr.com/apps/video/stewart.swf?v=63881" bgcolor="#000000" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="intl_lang=en-us&amp;amp;photo_secret=ae9541e8a4&amp;amp;photo_id=3152364314&amp;amp;flickr_show_info_box=true" height="375" width="500"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/3152364314/"&gt;Kai Coo&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/theoriginaldoyles/"&gt;dtdoyle&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-3246359396423122202?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/3246359396423122202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=3246359396423122202' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/3246359396423122202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/3246359396423122202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2008/12/talkative-nugget_30.html' title='Talkative Nugget'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-593802967869958581</id><published>2008-12-27T17:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-27T18:30:27.073-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why we need a dog</title><content type='html'>After dinner tonight, Aiden crawled onto my lap and asked me to read him a book called "Puppy Parade" It's one of those obnoxious, foam-covered books that you get for $0.85 out of the discount bin at a dollar store because no one wants to pay the full dollar. The book is full of mesmerizing facts like "Some puppies are soft and fluffy" or "this puppy has a favorite chair", and even takes it to the next level by rhyming. I'm considering getting the other three books in the series: "Farm Friends", "Funny Bunnies", and "Kitty, Kitty".  Sure to be winners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting to the meat of the story, the last sentence of "Puppy Parade" reads, "And every &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;puppy&lt;/span&gt; that &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; see says, 'Won't &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;you come&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;play&lt;/span&gt; with me?" [yes, the book has differing font sizes]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After closing the book, Aiden looked up at me and asked "Daddy, can I go play with those puppies?" Now, Aiden has a pretty good imagination so this request didn't see too odd to me. As a matter of fact, earlier today, Aiden and his pet baby Jaguar were rescued by Diego after being dragged into a web by two large spiders. After that little bit of imaginary play, his asking to play with the two dogs from the book seemed fairly basic. Here's how the rest of the conversation went.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Sure buddy. You can go play with those dogs."&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: "Can you help me?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Um...sure."&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: "Put the book on the ground."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "...ok" [I put book on ground]&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: "I gotta jump in the book to play with the dogs"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Oh. Ok."&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: [Ensuring the book is open to the page with the two dogs, he proceeds to jump into the air, and directly onto the book]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now here's where things took an unexpected turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: [standing on top of the book] "It didn't work daddy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this caught me slightly off guard as I now realized that he wasn't pretending but ACTUALLY trying to jump into the book. At this point, Kate walked by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: "Witch"&lt;br /&gt;Kate: "Excuse me?"&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: "Witch Mommy, can you help me jump in the book so I can play with the dogs"&lt;br /&gt;Kate: "Um...sure Aiden. Ok, jump."&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: [Jumps a second time onto the book] "It's still not working!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate and I start to laugh, but not hard enough to discourage him from continuing the game. This is getting amusing.  Aiden stands on top of the book for a while, obviously pondering something. It finally clicks because he exclaims, "I know!" He then thrusts his hand into his Spider Man underwear (the only article of clothing he happens to be wearing at the time, not quite sure why) fishes around, pulls out an object unseen by Kate or me and holds it high in the air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: "USE MY WAND!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We pretty much lost it at this point. Even Kai laughed, but that was probably coincidence :) It was at this point that we realized he was reenacting a particular episode of Dora the Explorer where she jumps into a storybook to rescue the beautiful snow princess from the hands of an evil witch who hates the snow and all snow creatures. I'm guessing the geniuses at Nickelodeon intended this particular episode to subconsciously indoctrinate children to the dangers of global warming. However, the only thing it taught my kid is that he can jump into books in order to get puppies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I say all of that to say this: we need to buy our kid a freakin' dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-593802967869958581?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/593802967869958581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=593802967869958581' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/593802967869958581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/593802967869958581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2008/12/why-we-need-dog.html' title='Why we need a dog'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-3460293631311579782</id><published>2008-12-25T15:37:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-25T15:49:37.714-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank you Playskool!</title><content type='html'>So this little activity kept Aiden preoccupied, on and off, for about 30 minutes today. Aiden get's full credit for both the concept development and flawless execution. Playskool gets credit for the Helmet Heroes Racecar Driver set, the Honeybee Hop and the two-hour nap Aiden took after this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="367" height="324" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d99038047f45555a" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v10.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd99038047f45555a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330293977%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E40DD6D0CCF94AED3E33CF9C89494BCCFAD130D.3E059375216BC696C30338E6E0A049B39BB4B638%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd99038047f45555a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DLVew9LlWty5Q_BuhyZH6SNZ3wIU&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="367" height="324" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v10.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd99038047f45555a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330293977%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D6E40DD6D0CCF94AED3E33CF9C89494BCCFAD130D.3E059375216BC696C30338E6E0A049B39BB4B638%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd99038047f45555a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DLVew9LlWty5Q_BuhyZH6SNZ3wIU&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-3460293631311579782?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=d99038047f45555a&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/3460293631311579782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=3460293631311579782' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/3460293631311579782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/3460293631311579782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2008/12/thank-you-playskool.html' title='Thank you Playskool!'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-6762883530122461446</id><published>2008-12-24T21:23:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-24T21:26:53.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookies for Santa</title><content type='html'>Click for the larger image!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SVLvI_WSvRI/AAAAAAAAACs/DI8DHu31Y2M/s1600-h/Christmas+cookies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283548250581941522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 196px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SVLvI_WSvRI/AAAAAAAAACs/DI8DHu31Y2M/s400/Christmas+cookies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SVLuvd-yOMI/AAAAAAAAACk/4qPpS9Yb2OI/s1600-h/Christmas+cookies.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-6762883530122461446?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/6762883530122461446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=6762883530122461446' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/6762883530122461446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/6762883530122461446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2008/12/cookies-for-santa.html' title='Cookies for Santa'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_okIac2E5bic/SVLvI_WSvRI/AAAAAAAAACs/DI8DHu31Y2M/s72-c/Christmas+cookies.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-6802133783356307767</id><published>2008-12-23T18:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T18:35:59.588-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='McDonald&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Air Force Recruiting'/><title type='text'>Happy Christmas Eve Eve!</title><content type='html'>I have a half-day of work left between me and a ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[counting on fingers....moving to toes]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...11-day weekend. Yesssssssssss. The cool part is that NONE of those days count against my vacation time. Why? Because between military family days, weekends and two awesome co-workers volunteering to cover all of the "minimum manning" days, there are no days left to have to take vacation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ba-da-da-da-daaa...I'm lovin' it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you might be thinking "Gosh, I wish I had a super long weekend too." Well, my friend, you are in luck. You too can enjoy these long weekends! "How" you ask? The answer lies in one &lt;a href="http://www.airforce.com/"&gt;click&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-6802133783356307767?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/6802133783356307767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=6802133783356307767' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/6802133783356307767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/6802133783356307767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2008/12/happy-christmas-eve-eve.html' title='Happy Christmas Eve Eve!'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-4398631950420884766</id><published>2008-12-22T20:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T20:43:29.623-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The many names of Kailum</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt;&lt;a title="photo sharing" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/3058194521/"&gt;&lt;img class="flickr-photo" style="WIDTH: 233px; HEIGHT: 298px" height="359" alt="" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3020/3058194521_0e16e5bebd.jpg" width="280" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/3058194521/"&gt;IMG_0691&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/theoriginaldoyles/"&gt;dtdoyle&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;His name is Kailum (pronounced KAY-lum). The name means "peaceful" and he is the most peaceful, happy baby you will ever meet. However, we rarely call him Kailum. For some reason, this kid has multiple nicknames that are all variations of two: Kai and Nugget. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;Now "Kai" is pretty obvious. It just his name shortened and pronounced with a long "I" instead of a long "A". "Nugget" came about because Kate called him this once and it just stuck. Both are perfectly suitable nicknames (because he's pretty tasty too) but things have gotten a little out of hand. Here are some of the more common names you will hear us call Mr. Kailum on a normal day:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;Kai &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;Kai Kai&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;"KALUM, KILUM, KOLUM, KULUM, KELUM" (a play on the vowel sounds compliments of his Uncle Bob)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;Nugget&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;Nugs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;Nuggy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;Nuggy Wuggy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;Nuggy Wuggy Woo Woo Woo (my wife has issues)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;Nuggles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;Nuglet&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;Nooget&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;Mr. Nugglesworth&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;And my personal fave...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;Michael "Nug"las&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;We love you Kailum. We promise to stop when you turn 18.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-4398631950420884766?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/4398631950420884766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=4398631950420884766' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4398631950420884766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4398631950420884766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2008/12/many-names-of-kailum.html' title='The many names of Kailum'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3020/3058194521_0e16e5bebd_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-4005030331375920182</id><published>2008-12-21T18:41:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-21T19:56:40.448-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heart-attack'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='race car shirt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Aiden'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Aiden's First Christmas Performance</title><content type='html'>So we showed up to &lt;a href="http://www.jbcchurch.com/"&gt;church&lt;/a&gt; this morning (only our second visit to this particular church) and proceeded to the nursery/toddler's area to drop our the kiddos. Kate took care of Nugget (aka Kai) and I walked Aiden to his room. Now before we even got to church, we knew this Sunday had the potential for problems. Aiden had finally decided that he would give in to our repeated attempts at potty training, so all of last week we have been working with him. Today, we decided that it would be a good test if we allowed him to go to church wearing "big boy undies".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I entered the toddler's room to drop off Aiden, I hung up his bag, he ran off to play with some trucks in the corner and I walked over to the teachers to explain our potty training situation. I was slightly stressed that they wouldn't be too keen on "helping the new kid go pee" but they were cool about it so my stress subsided. It subsided just long enough for me to get my hand on the exit door knob before it sky-rocketed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"We have our children's Christmas program this morning, so we'll be bringing the kids into the main service to sing a little bit later."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mild shock set in, and my response sounded something like this: "Oh wow.....good luck!" Then I left the room. Looking back, I guess I could have asked some questions about the program, told Aiden to behave, or even asked the teachers if they wanted me to keep Aiden until after the program, but I didn't. I just left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met Kate on her way out of the nursery and told her the news. She slipped slightly, but I'll blame the partially frozen handicap ramp we happened to be traversing at the time. We found a seat in the main auditorium, and immediately started to discuss how things were about to go down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate: Oh my gosh, I hope he doesn't flip out on stage!&lt;br /&gt;Me: He's going to do that "flop-onto-his-back" thing he does when he meets new people.&lt;br /&gt;Kate: Either that or he'll give them the, "NO! DON'T TELL ME..." fit.&lt;br /&gt;Me: Oh my gosh, he's going to be the kid with the big PEE STAIN!&lt;br /&gt;Kate: Ooooh! If I knew this was going to happen, I would have put a Pull-up on him!&lt;br /&gt;Me: Kate...there is a drum set on stage.&lt;br /&gt;Kate: You need to be ready to go up there and get him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, all this probably wouldn't have been a big deal if it wasn't only the SECOND TIME we had ever been to this church. I was positive we were about to become a story about "that family that only came twice and their kid flipped out and peed himself on stage during the children's Christmas program."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the next twenty minutes, which seemed like two hours, our hearts must have beat a combined 4,000 times. The congregational singing finally ended, and we all took our seats and watched as the children started to file in. A stream of Christmas dresses, khakis and GAP Kids button-up shirts instantly made me wish we hadn't let Aiden pick out his outfit, the centerpiece of which was a bright blue race-car shirt. O...M...G.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first group of well-dressed children ended up being the older kid's class. They sang the first three songs, which were all quite cute. At the third song's conclusion, a second, shorter group of kids started to file in. They were all wearing foam crowns and holding onto a rope anchored at each end by a teacher. They were just as dressed-up as the first group, with one exception. Bringing up the rear was Aiden. My heart-dropped as I assumed he had been placed closest to the teacher due to backstage shinanigans, but he was holding onto the rope, walking slowly and with his head full of amazing curls, definitely rockin' the crown harder than the other kids. (Full disclosure: author is child's biased father) A second glance revealed that his pants were still dry and the race-car shirt was not as bright of a blue as I thought. So far, so good. Somewhere towards the front of the conga line, a couple kids started to cry. Kate and I smiled at each other victoriously. Our kid was not the first to melt-down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As they filed onto the stage to their places in front of the older kids, Aiden's behavior didn't stick out at all. He was doing great. As the first music for the first song ("we fall down, we lay our crowns, at the feeeeeeet of Jesus") started, Aiden's head jerked towards the speakers, then towards the mass of kids standing behind him. He looked slightly bewildered as everyone started singing, and his response was to turn back towards the front and exclaim "Teacher, they're singing!" Chuckles broke out from various places in the auditorium, but they were "aw cute" chuckles so it was cool. When they got to a certain point in the song, the younger kids started to take off their crowns and put them in a manger at the front of the stage. When it was Aiden's turn, he took it off and just dropped it in front of him. More chuckles, still cool though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They sang one more song, and apart from an instance where Aiden tried to show the teacher something on his hand, and a near "flop-onto-his-back" episode when he spotted Kate and me in the audience, everything went great. He stopped by our pew for a hug on his way back to the toddler room, and that was that. Crisis averted! Our heart rates settled back down to normal about halfway through the message, and we realized we were stupid for panicking. We have a pretty great kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's the story! Since we weren't expecting any kind of performance, we didn't get pictures or a video, so hopefully this painted a good enough picture of Aiden's first, impromptu, Christmas performance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace! (on Earth, goodwill to men.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-4005030331375920182?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/4005030331375920182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=4005030331375920182' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4005030331375920182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4005030331375920182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2008/12/aidens-first-christmas-performance.html' title='Aiden&apos;s First Christmas Performance'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-1785773982041658122</id><published>2008-12-20T16:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T16:54:04.881-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style='background-color:#e9e9e9; width: 425px;'&gt;&lt;object id='A592298' quality='high' data='http://aka.zero.jibjab.com/client/zero/ClientZero_EmbedViewer.swf?external_make_id=PTOIx7SviSCT9hWv&amp;service=sendables.jibjab.com&amp;partnerID=ElfYourself' pluginspage='http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer' type='application/x-shockwave-flash' wmode='transparent' height='319' width='425'&gt;&lt;param name='wmode' value='transparent'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='movie' value='http://aka.zero.jibjab.com/client/zero/ClientZero_EmbedViewer.swf?external_make_id=PTOIx7SviSCT9hWv&amp;service=sendables.jibjab.com&amp;partnerID=ElfYourself'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='scaleMode' value='showAll'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='quality' value='high'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='allowNetworking' value='all'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='allowFullScreen' value='true' /&gt;&lt;param name='FlashVars' value='external_make_id=PTOIx7SviSCT9hWv&amp;service=sendables.jibjab.com&amp;partnerID=ElfYourself'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name='allowScriptAccess' value='always'&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div style='text-align:center; width:435px; margin-top:6px;'&gt;Send your own &lt;a href='http://www.elfyourself.com'&gt;ElfYourself&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href='http://sendables.jibjab.com/ecards'&gt;eCards&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTIyOTgxMDAxODk3NyZwdD*xMjI5ODEwMDUwMDgyJnA9NDE4ODEzJmQ9MjAyNjc5Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTImdD*mbz*zYmNhMGFmZmE1MjM*YTkyOTkyY2ZjODVjZWFiOWM*OQ==.gif" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-1785773982041658122?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/1785773982041658122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=1785773982041658122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/1785773982041658122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/1785773982041658122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2008/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas!'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-8414712994601906555</id><published>2008-12-20T15:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-20T16:07:11.184-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Brief Hiatus</title><content type='html'>Ok so it wasn't so brief. I can't believe it's been over a year since I last blogged about something. It's not that I haven't had anything going on, I guess I just took a bigger bite of social media than I could chew. Here's my current list:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/"&gt;Facebook&lt;/a&gt; (look me up)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles"&gt;Flickr&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://twitter.com/dtdoyle"&gt;Twitter&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/"&gt;Myspace&lt;/a&gt; (don't bother looking me up because I rarely use it anymore)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm definitely not going back to myspace, but I'll do better in keeping the rest updated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, here's a brief rundown of what's been going on since September 07:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Had a second kid (well my wife did. I made contributions). He's super cute and you can see pictures on the Flickr site I linked to above.&lt;br /&gt;2. Moved to New Jersey. Weather is a lot different here than it is in Georgia, but we love the area, and it's nice being so close to Philly, NYC, DC and some great friends.&lt;br /&gt;3. Got a new job. I finished my three-year tour as chief of media relation at Air Force Reserve Command, and now I work as the chief of public affairs at the 621st Contingency Response Wing, McGuire AFB.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are the three big things that have happened, so I'll leave it at that for now and not try to cram a year's worth of info into one blog post. Besides, The Polar Express is holding one son's attention, but the other one is not as amused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peace out!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. I'll start blogging about smaller stuff more often and in separate posts, but in the mean time, here's something small. I'll have the honor of &lt;a href="http://www.airforcetimes.com/news/2008/12/airforce_captain_selections_122908w/"&gt;pinning on Captain&lt;/a&gt; next June. Gotta love pay raises!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-8414712994601906555?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/8414712994601906555/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=8414712994601906555' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/8414712994601906555'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/8414712994601906555'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2008/12/brief-hiatus.html' title='Brief Hiatus'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-4959335712105787148</id><published>2007-09-21T16:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T16:33:48.553-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Pure joy</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt;	&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/1418654467/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1165/1418654467_43bc9556f9_m.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/1418654467/"&gt;Pure joy&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/theoriginaldoyles/"&gt;dtdoyle&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;				&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;	I love this kid!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-4959335712105787148?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/4959335712105787148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=4959335712105787148' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4959335712105787148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4959335712105787148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2007/09/pure-joy.html' title='Pure joy'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1165/1418654467_43bc9556f9_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-6779608883481648411</id><published>2007-09-16T19:47:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T19:47:32.315-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Panera Bread</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt;	&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/1393396759/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1338/1393396759_8dee75ceb6_m.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/1393396759/"&gt;Panera Bread&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/theoriginaldoyles/"&gt;dtdoyle&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;				&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;	I finally found one in georgia!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-6779608883481648411?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/6779608883481648411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=6779608883481648411' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/6779608883481648411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/6779608883481648411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2007/09/panera-bread.html' title='Panera Bread'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1338/1393396759_8dee75ceb6_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-8758647861171881285</id><published>2007-09-16T12:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-17T16:49:46.676-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='self-sanitizing toilet seat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Momence'/><title type='text'>Busy Week</title><content type='html'>What a weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drove to Atlanta at 1:30 pm on Friday. I flew out of ATL at 5:00 pm and landed in Chicago around 7:15 pm. I stayed in a &lt;a href="http://www.starwoodhotels.com/sheraton/property/overview/index.html?propertyID=40"&gt;hotel that was way to nice for a one night stay&lt;/a&gt;, and woke up at 6:00 the next morning to drive an hour-and-a-half to a tiny town in the middle of Illinois named &lt;a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Momence,+IL,+United+States+of+America&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;oi=map&amp;amp;ct=title"&gt;Momence&lt;/a&gt;. Once there, we had a &lt;a href="http://www.afrc.af.mil/newsreleases/story.asp?id=123068286"&gt;veteran's memorial dedication &lt;/a&gt;that lasted from 11:00 to noon. Following the dedication, I drove back to Chicago, flew out at 7:00 pm, landed in Atlanta at 9:00, and drove the two hours back to Warner Vegas, GA. So all-in-all, about 12 hours of traveling for an hour long event.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, after this post, I'm packing so that I can leave at 3:45 for a week-long &lt;a href="http://www.dvidshub.net/?script=video/video_show.php&amp;amp;id=8103"&gt;DVIDS&lt;/a&gt; training class back in Atlanta.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some interesting things I saw while in Chicago:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From 10,00o feet: Chicago, a high-school football game and a cop pulling someone over (not incredibly exciting)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On ground level: A self-sanitizing toilet seat, the Christian flag being flown outside, a &lt;a href="http://www.afrc.af.mil/newsreleases/story_media.asp?id=123068286"&gt;bronze statue&lt;/a&gt; in the image of &lt;a href="http://www.acepilots.com/korea/kasler.html"&gt;Col. James Kasler&lt;/a&gt; and a &lt;a href="http://www.afrc.af.mil/newsreleases/story_media.asp?id=123068286"&gt;fly-over by a four-ship of F-16s&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Update: Links added&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-8758647861171881285?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/8758647861171881285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=8758647861171881285' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/8758647861171881285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/8758647861171881285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2007/09/busy-week.html' title='Busy Week'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-1802385934075190845</id><published>2007-09-14T19:22:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T19:22:48.851-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I love flying</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt;	&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/1382777327/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1292/1382777327_e23b1ac08a_m.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/1382777327/"&gt;I love flying&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/theoriginaldoyles/"&gt;dtdoyle&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;				&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;	this is the view from my window flying into chicago.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-1802385934075190845?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/1802385934075190845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=1802385934075190845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/1802385934075190845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/1802385934075190845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-love-flying.html' title='I love flying'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1292/1382777327_e23b1ac08a_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-5436402698438179415</id><published>2007-09-12T10:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T10:21:00.205-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='note to self'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ouch'/><title type='text'>Note to Self</title><content type='html'>Leave college sports paraphernelia at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's exactly what touched off &lt;a href="http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2007/football/ncaa/09/11/oklahoma.texas.fight.ap/index.html?cnn=yes"&gt;a bloody skirmish&lt;/a&gt; that left a Texas-shirt-wearing fan nearly castrated and an Oklahoma fan facing aggravated assault charges that could put him in prison for up to five years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ouch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-5436402698438179415?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/5436402698438179415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=5436402698438179415' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/5436402698438179415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/5436402698438179415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2007/09/note-to-self.html' title='Note to Self'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-4420547207047543361</id><published>2007-09-11T18:50:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-12T10:55:06.209-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oops'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='worldwide dream'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scary gay man'/><title type='text'>Hey, Mr. President...</title><content type='html'>...yeah, do you remember when I took that oath saying I'd support and defend the constitution against all enemies foreign and domestic? And do you remember when I said I'd do so "without any mental reservation"? Well, I had never heard of &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9oYWxRTc4gQ"&gt;Chris Crocker &lt;/a&gt;before. And since the constitution defends free speech, I was wondering if I could get a clause put in there that says I support and defend the constitutional rights of everyone but this guy. I mean, I'd really hate to die in a war knowing that I helped make this thing possible. If we can't do that, could we get him classified as one of those domestic enemies? Waddaya say?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-4420547207047543361?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/4420547207047543361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=4420547207047543361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4420547207047543361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4420547207047543361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2007/09/hey-mr-president.html' title='Hey, Mr. President...'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-4317337746112043614</id><published>2007-09-11T10:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T10:13:50.563-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Nifty</title><content type='html'>&lt;style type="text/css"&gt;.flickr-photo { border: solid 2px #000000; }.flickr-yourcomment { }.flickr-frame { text-align: left; padding: 3px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="flickr-frame"&gt;	&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/1359886329/" title="photo sharing"&gt;&lt;img src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1236/1359886329_4a565421e6_m.jpg" class="flickr-photo" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;	&lt;span class="flickr-caption"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theoriginaldoyles/1359886329/"&gt;Nifty&lt;/a&gt;, originally uploaded by &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/people/theoriginaldoyles/"&gt;dtdoyle&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;				&lt;p class="flickr-yourcomment"&gt;	ooo...i can send photos to my blog from my cell phone.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-4317337746112043614?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/4317337746112043614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=4317337746112043614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4317337746112043614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/4317337746112043614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2007/09/nifty_11.html' title='Nifty'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1236/1359886329_4a565421e6_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6962910495028486349.post-7014454102889569614</id><published>2007-09-10T22:09:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T10:30:52.586-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='first'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Britney Spears'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='publicity'/><title type='text'>FIRST!</title><content type='html'>All right, so I've decided to blog...finally. Why? I don't know. All my friends are doing it? I mean, that's the same reason I did that one thing that one time but...I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly now, with my recent decision to begin looking at civilian jobs in case the Air Force cuts my legs off, I've realized that I am seriously behind on the advances of the internet. I email, I have facebook and myspace, and I have a (very poorly tagged) flickr site. I read CNN.com and I can find what I'm looking for in Google. That pretty much sums up my internet communication skills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working in PA (translate PR), I see every day how the media has moved way past newspapers and the evening news. And while I understand concepts, I need to catch up on all the practical applications. Hopefully starting a blog will help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If not, at least I'll have a better place to post sweet surveys and rants about Britney Spears awful performance on the VMAs than a myspace bulletin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bonus: My publicity plan for Brit&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, release a statement saying, "I have an alcohol problem that I developed trying to cope with my marital and parental problems. I'm going to get help. See you in a few."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second, hire a chaplain, therapist, personal trainer, chef, stylist and babysitter (or if you prefer a "manny"), put them all on a jet and fly to Namibia for some privacy (it worked for Brangelina).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Third, stay there for as long as it takes for all the aforementioned people to agree that you are sane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourth, fly back, schedule an interview with Barbara Walters, admit again to your alcohol, marital and parental problems. Tell us how JT broke your heart and K-Fed beat you. Make us cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fifth, give up on music (you're not that good) and hire J.K. Rowling to ghost-write your autobiography.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, sell your book, make millions, marry your manny and adopt a kid from Africa.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6962910495028486349-7014454102889569614?l=transparentpublicity.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/feeds/7014454102889569614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6962910495028486349&amp;postID=7014454102889569614' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/7014454102889569614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6962910495028486349/posts/default/7014454102889569614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://transparentpublicity.blogspot.com/2007/09/first.html' title='FIRST!'/><author><name>Dustin</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05337844244169296988</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
