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"Bleep, bleep, bleep" Almost on reflex you reach over and smack the alarm clock hoping that this time it will be the death blow that will put it out of its misery. Every morning it is the same thing; a perfectly good dream is interrupted by that alarm clock. You think to yourself, "one of these days I am not going to have to listen to that thing. One of these days I am going to have a day all to myself without anyone telling me what to do." It's funny; you've been saying that since you were a teenager. Back then the alarm clock was beckoning you to get up and get ready for school. Ah, those were the days. As if on cue the alarm is silenced and instead music begins emanating from the speaker. You lay there being serenaded by Gloria Gaynor as she sings, "I Will Survive". That somehow seems appropriate this morning and you wonder if that song was meant for you or for the alarm clock that you nearly destroyed again. Maybe today won't be so bad after all. Even before you could complete that thought the disc jockey ruined the moment when he said, "well there's an oldie goldie we haven't heard in a few decades." Great that is just what you need; another 'punk kid' reminding you that you're not getting any younger.

Father's Day is always an interesting day at our house. It has evolved a lot over the years of our marriage. It began as a simple day where things just kind of flowed. When the kids were really young we usually celebrated with a handmade card and perhaps breakfast together. As we collected more kids and they got older the celebration got a little bit larger and more involved. Trina would work with the kids to make sure to take each of them shopping and allow them to pick out something for their dad. This usually meant that I received a very eclectic series of presents ranging from stuffed animals to art supplies to colorful shirts. As the kids are now starting to get old enough to start leaving the house for school the holiday continues to evolve. Now I usually get an e-card along with a note saying that they are poor college students and if I could please send money they would be happy to send me something (assuming I send enough money since they had things to buy too). It's not just about the gifts though.

Time is an interesting animal that refuses to be domesticated. I have sort of a love hate relationship with time. From a scientific perspective I am fascinated by the whole concept of time. It is an invention to allow man to measure the inconceivable. For whatever reason as a species we are consumed by the idea that we must measure and compare one instance of existence to another. Some people choose to use these measurements to place value comparisons on their evolution. Others hope to mark off each moment as a sign that they were here. It is as though they are afraid that without somehow marking it down their lives would hold no value. Time follows us everywhere we go and we cannot escape it. Even after we have passed beyond the boundaries of this mortal life we are still measured by time. Visit any cemetery and look at the headstones. The majority of these are filled with the concept of time. These carved stones mark the final resting place of a human beings earthly vessel. Does the stone give us any indication of the type of life these people lived? Instead all we know of their journey through this world is their arrival and departure time.