I meant to kill TimWoolery.Net this year – I really did.  Sadly, missed the window of cancelling (because I’m an idiot) and now I’m stuck for another year with this blog and this web hosting presence.

I’m involved in some new projects now that you should be aware of.  I’m helping this guy sell his book: (http://www.flotillaonline.com/facebook/) and I’m coming up on one year with the Aspire Company as Chief Sales Officer.  Trying to put it all into words is almost impossible.

I’ll see what comes of it – might be some great things to share very shortly.  Or not.  You never really know when you’re me.

A friend’s visit last week gave me some opportunity to reflect on the past couple of years.  Life is still weird and beautiful, still a learning experience.  Life comes at you too quickly sometimes to give it the proper level of thought.  Twitter is valuable for times like that – you can see my feed over on the right (–>>).

I was on the Embarcadero yesterday in record-setting heat.  Seriously … picture the scene: Pier 23, 95 degrees, no shade.   The vintage street cars on the F-Line are great, normally, but in the heat all you do is wish for air conditioning.  At least you get to meet nice people – lots of tourists from all over the world ride that stretch.  Met a nice couple from Spokane and then helped a young family from Sydney get their pram off the trolley (their words, not mine).

But what does it all mean? Read the rest of this entry »

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on”;

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings – nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man my son!

- Rudyard Kipling