"I Hate You, Miles" What's This About?     FAQ     Mailing List     HelloPhone Dear Miles, With all of the technological advancements that mankind is making its almost inevitable that one day we will be overrun by our own devices! I'm afraid that that time has already come for me. Cell phones are all the rave now and it seems as though you're not a somebody until you've got the flyest phone in the palm of your hand. I wanted to be a somebody so I scraped together some spare cash and made a beeline for my local Radio Shack where I was able to put a down payment towards the new HelloPhone. Yes, the very same HelloPhone the trendy young executives tote. Yes, the very same phone that your favorite rapper or pop star diva had in their music video! Now, I too was a somebody! But I should've realized immediately that any phone that came with its own financing plan was not an item for me. I'm barely making rent as it is! In any event, HelloPhone is super smart but also super annoying. My HelloPhone synchronizes with my work computer and knows when I'm supposed to be on the job. It does some global positioning calculations, recognizes when I'm running late for work, and immediately starts squealing to alert me that once again I'm going to be late. My HelloPhone tracks my debit card transactions and knows when I take breaks to buy potato chips, candy bars, and slices of cake from local stores. It obnoxiously prints out how many fatty calories I'm wolfing down and then tells me how much exercise I'm going to have to do to make up for the snacks. If I'm eating something fatty while making a call my HelloPhone will periodically shutdown and tell me that it will not take part in me slowly killing myself! The HelloPhone is the smartest phone ever created and it sucks! But that's not even the worst of it. My HelloPhone is constantly bouncing signals up to a GPS satellite so it knows how fast I'm driving. The stupid phone downloads traffic information and yells at me when I drive two miles over the speed limit. Once, I was really late for work and that evil phone logged into the police radio frequency and alerted a nearby patrol car about my speeding. My HelloPhone ratted me out to the cops! I'm a single man and I thought having the newest, coolest phone would help my stature with the ladies. Wrong! HelloPhone has a webcam built into it and if you're talking to someone else with a HelloPhone it allows you to see them as you talk and vise versa. The problem: not every phone conversation is supposed to be a video conversation. In the past, I never had to worry about my appearance for phone conversations. I'd roll out of bed scraggly and talk to chicks, talk to chicks while using the bathroom, talk to chicks while getting ready, etc. It never mattered how I looked. When I got my HelloPhone, one of the first things I did was disable the video feature. Sadly, my HelloPhone knows that I'm single and so periodically it will recognize that I'm talking to a single female HelloPhone user and automatically activate the video camera! So I'd be right in the middle of talking to a beautiful girl while looking my absolute worst and suddenly she would be able to see everything that I was doing! My HelloPhone is actually driving away the ladies! Screw the latest and greatest phone. Screw being a somebody. And screw you HelloPhone! Samir in Orlando. 17Jul2010 ------------------------ Dealing With Darkness Dear Miles, many of us have dark places in our lives. When I say dark I'm not speaking in terms of evil. I'm referring to the thoughts, places, things, or people that bring us down. Oftentimes these dark places are relics from our past. Uncomfortable, unbearable, or down right terrible times in our lives that we simply lock away in our minds in hopes that we won't have to deal with them. Sooner or later, situations present themselves that force us to remember and the darkness comes marching back to the forefront of our thoughts. The darkness sucks, Miles. It seems so easy to just lock it away but that's not really dealing with the problem. That's just masking it. When it pops up again we're right back in the same place. Consider this. Have you ever been depressed by the thought of something? Having to confront someone or something? Does the very thought of it bring you down and keep you in a bad mood for a long time? Do you feel like the depression eats away at you and causes you to act differently around others? Does it affect your relationships with friends and family? Do your thoughts illicit fear? Extreme anxiety? So much so that your response is "I just don't want to deal with it"? Miles, these thoughts represent a dark place and must be dealt with. These thoughts will oftentimes stem from issues with people. Issues with parents, siblings, children, loved ones, bosses, etc. can be particularly painful and can create dark places so severe that they actually affect who we our and how we operate. We have to start diving in and asking why, Miles. That's the only way to free ourselves of the mental burdens that weigh us down. We cannot continue to be crippled or debilitated by the dark places in our lives. There should be no area of your life, your personality, or your past that you are afraid to deal with. Freedom comes from comfort with self and comfort comes from being open and honest with all aspects of your life and who you are. People screw up and sometimes they screw up royally but how long should they be prisoners to their screw up? To our screw ups? We're prisoners because every time we think about a dark place it brings us down and keeps us down. Ask yourself the tough questions. Sit down, turn the music off, turn the TV off, turn the phone off, and just be with your thoughts for a moment. If this is an uncomfortable task for you then you've got some dark places that need exploring. You shouldn't be off limits to yourself. Start searching for resolution. Start making a game plan for dealing with the darkness. Put your ego and pride to the side for a moment and ask yourself some tough questions. "Who can I talk to? Who do I need to confront? Where do I need to go? What am I going to say? What's holding me back? Why is this such a problem for me?" Write it down, say it out loud, do whatever it takes to hash it out. This is the first phase of dealing with the darkness. Are you seeking acceptance, acknowledgement, or validation from someone who's hurt you? Well, understand that that person may not give you what you need. Deal with it. Take that power back. Don't be a hostage. Dive through your emotions, acknowledge them, and then begin healing and moving on. You have to move on. We all have to move on, Miles. I promise you that dealing with the darkness is the first step towards being a happier person. The dark places carry much mass and weigh us down. We have to stop trying to bury or push the darkness back because it’s simply to heavy to stay hidden forever. Deal with it. Adam in Orlando. 26May2010 ------------------------ The Music Psyche Dear Miles, I just read your article on the physiological effects of music. Yeah, I agree that it can move us and shake us but the moving and shaking isn't always for the good. Sometimes hearing crap being blasted from outside while I'm trying to watch Jeopardy really pisses me off. I've got a bunch of young punks living on my street and they're always driving by my house with their car systems cranked up as loud as possible. One group blasts that rap crap and another group blasts that salsa crap. And then they'll drive past each other and have a competition to see who can play their crap the loudest! What's the deal? Am I supposed to be rolling around with my John Denver cranked up to 10? I'd love to see the look on their faces if I pulled up in their driveways at 11am with Prince's Purple Rain blaring. I say 11am because I know that they're still sleeping in their beds at that time. It's not like they're out working or anything! Good music can make you want to dance and bad music played obnoxiously loud can make you want to fight. So I guess your study was right. Griffin in Wekiva. 19May2010 Hey Miles, do you know if scientists have been able to explain the effect that music has on us yet? I doubt it. A friend of mine produces music and sent me some instrumentals this weekend. He's a pretty good composer and a few of the songs were just awesome. In my younger days I was a music snob and I would hate certain songs that were catchy rhythmically but stupid lyrically. In other words, I couldn't just love a song because it had a nice beat. It had to move me with words as well. My stance was well and good for a while but honestly I got tired of fighting myself. When a dumb song would come out I'd try to avoid it but before I knew it I'd be humming or singing it while walking in a grocery store or folding clothes or watering my yard! I'd get mad at myself for indulging in stupid music but I just couldn't seem to help it. Truth is truth. Sometimes music just does something to us and it just is what it is. Nowanddays I just go with it. I still stay away from the overtly expletive or misogynistic crap but if its something that elicits a natural, raw, or shallow reaction or emotion then so be it. Let it ride! Miss Linda. 17May2010 ------------------------ What Chili Wants Dear Miles, Rozanda Thomas appears to be on a quest to find something special. In fact, Rozanda's something needs to be so special that its almost perfect. Rozanda's got flaws and baggage as we all do but she still wants something special. In fact, she demands it. The question is: even with all of her flaws and faults, does she have the right to demand perfection? Perfection in the sense that it encompasses everything that she wants and expects completely. One could argue that if Rozanda brings a lot to the table, works hard in all facets of her life, and has great expectations for herself then it would be perfectly alright for her to have high aspirations for her something special. On the other hand, one could argue that Rozanda has faults of her own therefore has no right to shine a light on the imperfections of a potential something special. Rozanda certainly doesn't want to cast an aura of superiority but at the same time she truly wants to keep her high expectations. So where does the line get drawn? Somewhere in-between what she truly needs and she desperately wants there has got to be a sweet middle ground. But does she have to accept a middle ground? If, in her quest, she finds that there just aren't tons of something specials to be found then, yes, she will have to settle in on the middle ground. If there are lots of something specials out there then she can take her time and quest until she finds the one closest to perfection. How long is she willing to quest? What constitutes perfection? How badly does she need something special? Chili Pete in Daytona. 3May2010 ------------------------ Volcano Standby Dear Miles, I flew in to Dublin last week on business and now I'm trapped here thanks to a volcano. I'm writing while sitting in the airport and even as I type it it sounds ridiculous. A volcano? Really? Wow. I guess it just goes to show that we don't have as big grip on the world as we'd like to think that we do. Here we are in the 21st century with 100 gig drives on our keychains and missiles that could weave their way through city streets and we still have to put our lives on pause because of a volcano. I feel like I'm in a 1940s jungle, sci-fi flick. Should I be praying to the volcano god and asking him not to unleash anymore ash clouds and giant apes? They say that when it blew up it threw more carbon dioxide into the air then all of the cars produced on earth ever. So I guess that means that the new number one cause of global warming and prime suspect in the killing of mother earth is none other than mother earth herself. Gasp! You mean to tell me that I'm not a horrible earth-hating, SUV driving jerk anymore?! I hope the treehumpers put mother earth in their crosshairs and go after her with the same passion and fervor that they did people like me. Maybe I'll go hangout outside of their weed commune and pass out flyers and pamphlets that show them that almost everything on this planet is cyclical. Warming trends, cooling trends. It's been going on and its going to keep going on as long as this big waterball cycles the sun. The earth will do what the earth does and has always done and we're just ants along for the ride. I'd better not hear anymore crap about how I'm slowly heating up the planet by driving my SUV to Publix for milk and eggs. If I do I'll simply point them in the direction of the Icelandic volcano god and tell them to take an umbrella. Mighty Joe. 23Apr2010 ------------------------ Swinging Low Hi Miles, golf is like life in some aspects. I love the game but in order to succeed it takes a little finesse. I'm seeing more and more young women getting into the sport and that's good to see but they're playing it all wrong and they're losing in the long run. The young ladies that I see starting off have just picked up a few techniques, maybe turned a few heads on the putting greens, and so they feel like they're instantly ready for 72 holes. They come in cocky and flashy and just start swinging for the fences. Some of them are just so eager to finally be in the game and have their shot that they're not even considering how much they're screwing themselves up. It's like they're not even keeping score. I just watch them and shake my head because they're reckless and careless with their swings. Every so often I'll pull one aside and tell her "sweetie, slow down. The key is to keep your numbers low." When they're new to the game and eager to play, they don't realize how much playing too aggressively will hurt them. Then, somewhere around the 16th hole, they start to see what they really want. The end goal starts to come into view. The game is winding down and they'd love to be in a nice position going into the 18th but their score card has been ruined. All of that swinging during the early parts of the game ruined their chances for finishing first. Unfortunately, the trophies don't follow heavy swingers home and so every time I see a rookie out there unfocused and reckless I try to calm her down. Sometimes they listen, sometimes they don't. You're a smart fellow so I'll assume that by now you've figured out that this letter didn't have anything to do with golf. Sometimes it's best to discuss things without discussing them at all. Eagle Eva in Bay Hill. 30Mar2010 ------------------------ His Mommy Hi Miles, so I just started dating this guy and I think I'm starting to get concerned that he's calling his mother "mommy". He's 26 years old, stands about 6'2, is about 200 plus pounds, and still feels the need to call her mommy?? She should be "mom" now or possibly "maw" if raised south of Virginia. I was absolutely floored when I overheard him talking on the phone to her one day. Is he for real? I thought guys stopped calling their mothers "mommy" when they graduated from elementary school? You're not supposed to call her mommy unless you still suck your thumb and ask for allowance. Maybe she's still giving him a dollar every week, who knows. He sounded like a little kid on the phone when he talked to her! I thought he was a grown man. He told me that he had a very close bond with his mother and I thought that was sweet and respectful at first but now I see that I need to do some further investigating. The last thing that I need is to get wrapped up with another mama's boy. Yes, I said "another". Been there, done that. There's nothing sadder then a grown man who can't stand up to his mother. I don't have any kids but if I ever have boys I'm going to train them to make their own decisions and to stand on their own little chicken legs. Once mama kicks you out of the nest, it's time to fly! Janine in Orlando. 21Mar2010 ------------------------ The Black Obama Dear Miles, for awhile things were getting pretty bad on my street. Dangerous stray dogs were a real problem, teenagers were always loitering, and cars were constantly violating the speed limit. My neighbors were getting frustrated with it all but no one was taking any initiative to get anything done. Everyone wanted change but no one knew how to bring it about. One day I went door to door and started letting them all know of some things that we could do to improve our beloved street. We got organized and soon we had the animal control folks rolling through regularly, we started coming outside more to ward off the knuckleheads, and we petitioned the city to install speed bumps. All was well on my street. Some of our neighbors from other streets saw how we'd turned our street around and asked me to come and help them get organized. We made some more changes and soon all was right in the entire neighborhood. Other people got wind of my efforts and wanted me to help out their neighborhoods. And so on it went. Streets became neighborhoods, neighborhoods became communities, communities became cities, and before I knew it, I was appointed head of a special council to improve living conditions and promote safety for the entire county. It was a pretty big job but I felt up to the task and so I dove right in. One day a group of people from one of the streets in one of the neighborhoods near my own came to me and demanded that I write up special legislation specifically to get some things done on their street. I tried to tell them that my job was to look out for and make policies for the entire county but they didn't seem to care. I appointed someone to oversee changes in their neighborhood but that didn't seem to make them happy either. They wanted me to come back and give them the attention that I had given before but I simply did not have the time. I told them that if I focused all of my time and energy on their street then it would be unfair for the people of all the other streets. I understood their desires and concerns however it was my responsibility to be fair and attentive to the needs of all. In the end, my delegate for their neighborhood did help in bringing more improvements to their street but those people were still very upset at me. They accused me of turning my back on them and of not caring about them anymore. I was definitely a little hurt that they felt that way about me but in the grand scheme of things I helped make things a little better for them and that's what matters most. Clyde in Orange County. 26Feb2010 ------------------------ Valentine Lost Dear Miles, she left me 3 weeks ago and I'm still a broken man. I've spent all of this time basically just thinking about what a fool I was and about how I never should have let things get to this point. I had her, man. I had her. Something special. But I got greedy and stupid and wreckless and forced her to show me that she wouldn't wait around forever for me to get right. I'm still going to work everyday and that keeps me busy but the nights have all been brutal. I haven't had a full night's sleep in weeks and I think I'm loosing weight. When the nighttime comes things slow down and I can't help but think of how much I miss her. There's this huge block of empty time in my day that used to belong to her. I've tried taking up hobbies or doing something constructive to fill it but it all just seems meaningless and pales in comparison. Everywhere I go I see Valentine's Day stuff and it kills me that the one person who was even worth it is now gone. Every bright candy box, every jewelry commercial, every stuffed bear is a dagger in my chest and a sad reminder of what could have been. I've tried to reach out to her and show her that I've learned, that I've evolved, but she's done with it all. I'm trapped because I know it's too late to make amends and too hard to move on. So for now I'm just here. I know I need to man up but honestly I don't think I want to. I'm not ready to let it all go yet. So this Valentine's Day I'll be here by myself thinking, reminiscing, and mourning. Anthony in Clermont. 14Feb2010 ------------------------ I Hate U, Miles 13 Miles, you're getting complacent, man. I don't know what your problem is but you need to get it together quick because you're not producing like you used to. Maybe it's because you think that you've done something for yourself. Fool. You've done nothing. And most importantly, you've done nothing lately. Don't be an idiot. Look around you. Times are still hard. The money isn't flying around like it once was. You can't afford to wollow in your comfort. I thought you were a smart guy. What the hell happened? Don't you know that being stagnant isn't a straight line? It's a slow arc downward. People are falling off now more then ever and you've got the nerve to start cruising? Who are you? Who the hell are you? Stop cruising and get your sh-- together, man. Your 5, 10, 20 years of service is not enough. As long as God gives you strength then you need to run on. There's no room for complacency now and days. Get your fat a-- up and go make something happen. Tuddle in Orlando. 28Jan2010 ------------------------ The Icy Winds Hi Miles, it's parable time. Long ago there was a land between the sea and the mountains were the soil was fertile and the people were prosperous in their undertakings. One day an icy wind blew in over the land and some of the people fell ill with sickness and developed sores on their arms and legs. The people had never seen sickness of the sort and so they cried out to their high priest "what shall we do, o highness?" The high priest looked out over the people, saying "the giver of prosperity is not pleased with the actions of some and has stricken them with illness. Refrain from your ill ways and you will not be stricken!" The people heard and obeyed and dedicated their lives to the pursuit of prosperity. And those that had been stricken with the illness were shunned and eventually died of their soreness. A year passed and another icy wind blew over the land and some of the people fell ill with sickness and developed sores. The stricken cried out "we have dedicated our lives to the pursuit of prosperity, o highness. Why have we still been stricken sick?" The high priest looked out over the people, saying "truly this sickness is a sign that you have lost favor with the giver of prosperity. Now you suffer for your wicked ways!" The stricken were then taken and shunned but this time the people were bewildered and grieved secretly for they knew the lives of the stricken had mirrored their own. A year passed and another icy wind blew over the land and again some of the people fell ill. A doctor visiting from a distant land observed their illness and began to apply treatment to some with sores. The stricken again cried out "why have we been stricken, o highness? We have refrained from wickedness!" The high priest looked out over the people, saying "fools, you suffers for your wickedness!" The doctor, hearing all, stood, saying "they suffer because their immunity is weak to the cold. The diet of the stricken lacks herbs. I have treated some and behold their illness has passed." And a few that were stricken stood and the people marveled because their sores were healed. A year passed and another icy wind blew over the land. Those that were stricken ill were given herbs and were healed and were able to continue to live their lives in the pursuit of prosperity. Years passed and as the icy wind continued to blow over the land none were stricken ill or developed sores. In time the people accepted that the icy wind was just another part of the world around them and not punishment for wicked ways. And the people lived out their lives and were prosperous in their undertakings. Karey in Eatonville. 23Jan2010 ------------------------ Haitian Change Dear Miles, I hope that you've been able to donate something to Haiti. Things were grim over there before the earthquake and now a bad situation has gotten worse. I really feel powerless because even if I donate 10 dollars and one million people do something similar, how far will that 10 million go? Obviously it will provide food and water for a lot of people and possibly give some hurting people medical aide but then what? What happens in the long term? It feels as though I'm just putting a band-aid on a traumatic wound. Real change has to come from the Haitian government. I'm certainly no economist but I know that there's no way that outside organizations can truly turn the tide there. The fallout from the tragedy must be addressed and immediate relief must come for those who need it but what will happen when the dust settles? Real change doesn't happen over night so I'll have to wait for the answers to my questions. Check back with me in about 3-5 years and we'll see if their government is committed to using this horrific event as an opportunity to start fresh. Brian in Tampa. 22Jan2010 ------------------------ The Need To Know Hey Miles, I was watching the Haiti coverage on television and I saw a U.S. minister pronounce that the Haitian people were being punished by God for doing voodoo and for not being majority Christian. I certainly won't mention his name because I don't want him to have the satisfaction of promotion but he's pretty prominent and I believe he's the same guy who also said that the hurricanes were punishment for Floridian immorality. I believe that at the core of every human being is a desire to know and understand why things happen in this world. Somethings we can understand while others we simply have no clue. But not knowing is not enough. We need to know and when we do not know we seek out those who do.... or, at least, those who claim to know. I think that the people in this guy's church needed an explanation as to why Haiti was decimated so they turned to their leader and he found one. Guys like this are dangerous and spread dangerous schools of thought in their ignorance. He reminds me of all the "wisemen" before him who encouraged their congregations to trade human beings or who persecuted progressives for claiming that the Earth was round. I wish that we were strong enough to accept the things that we do not yet understand but we're not. We need to know. We have to know. And when there are no correct answers to be found the wrong ones will just have to suffice. Karey in Eatonville. 22Jan2010 ------------------------ The Great Disconnect of 2010 Dear Miles, 2009 was a pretty good year for me but there were quite a few headaches in the romance department. I'm not a terribly tech-savvy person and I'm thinking that that was at the root of my troubles. 2010 will be a lot smoother for me after I make a few adjustments. The first thing that needs to go is that blasted Twitter account. It was fun to watch other couples feuding on the instant messenger last year however when an angry girlfriend started venting about me on her Twitter page things got uncomfortable. We'd be in the middle of a fight and she'd yell something at me and then echo it in a tweet. My friends, all followers of her, said that they would heat up popcorn and sit down to enjoy an evening of her Twitter outbursts. All at my expense. So I'm done with that. Professional athletes aren't role models but guys can still learn lessons from them and if I learned nothing else I learned not to leave my name on answering machines. Everything can be saved now and days and the last thing that I need is a mistress trying to blackmail me with a recorded confession of my love for her! No more incriminating voice mail messages for me. I'm also through with love via text-messaging. If I like a girl I'll forsake the smilie face 143 message and instead just buy her some chocolates. And I'm burning the receipt. All of this stupid technology has made getting around a real chore. I'm sure players all over the globe are longing for the glory days before cell phone cams and viral videos. In 2010, the biggest move I make will be the closing of my Facebook account. I just can't handle it. Everyone in my life isn't supposed to be friends with everyone else. I've got ex-girlfriends going through my friend lists and befriending other ex's. That's just not natural! My ex's are banding together and uniting in a mutual hatred of me. In addition to this, I found out that my new female interests were visiting my Facebook page and contacting old girlfriends for references! Lastly, I'm giving up my iPhone because frankly I'm not smart enough to have it. My last girlfriend somehow installed a beacon app and was able to track me where ever I went. It's hard to lie about going out to buy milk when a global positioning satellite is saying that I'm really standing outside of a strip club. I was thrilled and excited about having the coolest phone on the market until the blasted thing ratted me out! Now it's got to go. Heed my warnings, my friend. The game has changed. It's faster, sneakier, and Twittier. If you can't keep up and adapt then you will lose. I choose simply not to play by their rules anymore. In 2010, I'm disconnecting from all of that crap and going rogue Palin style. I'm off the grid now. Catch me if you can. Slim at 28.41'89"N81.28'33"W. 3Jan2010 ------------------------ The Holiday Deal Dear Miles, times are hard and nothing reflects that like the holidays. People are looking for great deals on Christmas gifts and there are none to be found. Except for right here. I've got a sweet little item that's bound to shake up your holiday shopping list and make sure that Santa isn't the only one getting a treat this year (wink wink). Good sir, I'd like to present to you: Paper Cup. You heard me... Paper Cup. What can't Paper Cup do? What liquid can it not hold? Paper Cup is lite, portable, and easy to operate. It's so easy that a child could use it yet complex enough to physically contain every atom of a 0.4 liter sampling of water... except for the ones that are evaporating, of course. Paper Cup doesn't have time for games and it doesn't play around. When you see someone drinking out of Paper Cup you know instantly that they don't have time to screw around and they're definitely not about to be burdened down with having to wash dishes. Washing dishes is something that losers do and Paper Cup is the exact opposite of a loser. Do your wife, son, mother, aunt, neighbor, boss, news anchor, dog, or husband a favor and make sure that there's a Paper Cup in their stocking this holiday season. Remember... Paper Cup: Is What's Up. Pitchman Jim. 4Dec2009 ------------------------ Flasher Logic Dear Miles, I just heard on the radio about some whacko who was busted whacking off while watching some middle school cheerleaders practice. I guess he was watching them through a window, got spotted by some janitors, and then scurried off into the woods. I'm pretty good with people but honestly man I just can't seem to figure out how these flasher types think. I always hear about some guy just walking up to unsuspecting women in the park and showing them his junk. What is he looking to gain? Does he honestly think that maybe just maybe one day one of them won't be grossed out and disgusted? Like maybe if he keeps it up (no pun intended) that one woman will be turned on by some mysterious, surprise wee wee? They can't be that nuts, right? We all love cheerleaders and all... but middle schoolers? That's just wrong man. And then the weirdo scurried off into the woods probably to finish the job. I sure wish I was a brown bear or a leopard or something so that I could've stumbled upon him sitting on a stump in the forest and mauled him to death. Bryce in Orlando. 3Dec2009 ------------------------ Avian Revenge Dear Miles, something weird is happening. On Monday morning I walked outside to discover that my car was loaded with bird poop. I had just washed it last weekend and now I was looking at a fresh poop on every window, on the hood, and on the trunk. Coincidence? I think not. I think I've been marked and that the birds are plotting some type of Thanksgiving revenge. This time of year I get veeeery hungry and I do a lot of talking about delicious cooked birds. Maybe they were listening to my conversations. Maybe those chickens are coming home to roost (pardon the pun) and the avian community is finally planning on striking back! My girlfriend thinks I'm paranoid but I think that I'm a keen observer with sharp instincts. But I'll play it cool for now and wait for them to make the first move. If you drive by my house and see a bunch of feathers all over the yard then know that the revolution has begun. Happy Thanksgiving..... hopefully. Jason The Thankful. 25Nov2009 ------------------------ Price Check On Love Wassup Miles. I've been with my lady for a few years now and I've been thinking that its time to make things official. Yesterday I was at a jeweler pricing rings when a young woman walked in and asked to have her ring appraised. She was standing right next to me so while she waited for the attendant to gather materials I asked her if she was thinking of selling her ring. She said no and told me that she'd recently gotten engaged and just wanted to know how much the ring cost. I probably should've kept my mouth shut but I was so puzzled by her statement that I immediately asked why. She said that it was just to see how much it was worth. I could feel my internal temperature going up while I asked "what does it matter?... he gave you a ring." I could see that she was getting annoyed but I didn't really care. I was just so shocked. Granted I didn't know the specifics of her situation but I had a pretty good idea that what I was seeing was not a good thing. Then I started wondering about how I'd feel if my lady did the same thing. Is it just me or does that not sound like straight up gold-diggetry? Seriously, Miles. I thought the ring was supposed to just be symbolic of something bigger? That girl was in there like nothing was wrong and that scared the crap out of me. I'd like to think that my lady isn't like that. I'll certainly get her the best ring that I can afford but somewhere in my simple little brain I'd like to believe that price really doesn't matter. It wasn't until I got to my car that I thought up another question for the girl. What would she have done if she would've found out that the ring wasn't worth that much? Would she have called him out? How would that sound? Would she have ended the engagement? If she making her own money maybe she could've sold it and then put that money along with hers to buy herself an even bigger ring. The ring that she really wanted! Wow. My mind was running in circles. Good to see at that least one relationship was being built on a solid foundation... or not. Joshua in Windermere. 12Nov2009 ------------------------ An Apple For A Dime Hey Miles, if you're anything like me then you know how hard it can be talking to a beautiful woman. Talking to hot chicks is tough enough because of their hotness but throw in their own self-awareness of their hotness and things just really get unbearable for the average Joe. Well, I've got a sure fire way to level out the playing field. Give her an apple. Whenever I invite a beautiful woman over, I find myself getting way too caught up in her hotness and so the conversations are never quite as smooth as I'd like. So the first thing I do is offer her an apple. Why an apple? It's simple. Eating an apple is harmless and yet very effective at reducing overall sexiness. Make no mistake, seeing a woman take that initial bite into an apple can be an extremely awesome sight however it's all down hill from there. First off, she's got her nails done nicely so she's attempting to hold something that's decreasing in size with every bite while trying not to dirty up her nails. Secondly, an apple can't be nibbled at because once the skin has been broken the race is on to eat it before it turns brown. No hot chick worth her weight in Prada footwear would be caught dead with a yucko brown apple in her possession so she's going to take large and awkward bites in order to make good progress. No one looks or sounds hot with their cheeks stuffed full of apple! It's impossible. Now you can talk to her like a regular person! You may be worried that you'll lose your cool once the apple is done and she returns to her regular state of hotness but fret not, my friend. After the apple is discarded even the prissiest of women will be forced to try to pick apple core particles out of their teeth. It's inevitable. There are always leftover pieces. Some women will be subtle and try to get at the stray particles with their tongues while those of lesser hotness will just opt for the trusty ol' fingernail to forage with. Either way is about as appealing as watching horses crap so you're covered for at least another 10 minutes. That should be more then enough time for you to find your comfort zone. Take this tip to heart, my friend. The next time you find yourself face to face with a hot chick and you're sweating... it could save your life. Heffernan in Orlando. 13Oct2009 ------------------------ Hail Tebow Miles, why do people continue to doubt the greatness that is Tim Tebow? I just do not understand it. How could someone possibly hate Tim Tebow? He's Tim Tebow, and he's only the greatest thing to ever scorch any collegiate football field ever. When people watch Tim Tebow their lives change. When Tim Tebow calls an audible bank robbers turn themselves in. Marriage counselors don't even waste time having their couples blab about problems anymore. They teach oneness and unity by playing Tim Tebow game footage. Seriously, if you're a football fan then you have to love watching him go. If you're a lover of the Lord then you have to love how he's using his platform. What more could anyone want out of their quarterback? Now I can understand how fans of opposing teams could get a little upset but losing to Tim Tebow is like the Pope telling you to stop smoking. Be glad that he even talked to you! Losing is a part of sports and everyone loses sooner or later. Except for Tim Tebow. And if you're playing against Tim Tebow then plan on losing. It can't be any simpler then that. In fact, opponents should be thanking Tim Tebow for providing at least one certainty in an otherwise scary and uncertain world. Now, there's been a lot of misconception about Tim Tebow's concussion. Tim Tebow doesn't get concussions. He just needed an excuse to take a few days off to go fight terrorists. The University of Florida is just saying that he's questionable for the next big game so that opponents will be lulled into a sense of comfort. What the opposition foolishly hasn't realized is that seconds before kick-off, when their morale is at it's highest, Tim Tebow will suddenly emerge at the top of the stands and descend down through the crowds riding on a white tiger and carrying a sword with an inspirational Bible verse etched into the blade. Above him will be two American eagles gripping a large banner proclaiming the greatness of the Gator nation and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. When he reaches the field his helmet will be handed to him by twenty-one cheerleader virgins and when the first snap is made he will proceed to dispense order and justice to any heathen soul standing on the side of the scrimmage line. Hail Tebow. Hail Tebow. Hail Tebow. Franklin in Gator Nation. 7Oct2009 ------------------------ 50/50 Lifestyle Miles, why do people continue to doubt the greatness that is Tim Tebow? I just do not understand it. How can you hate Tim Tebow? He's Tim Tebow. Seriously, if you're a football fan then you have to love watching him go. If you're a lover of the Lord then you have to love how he's using his platform. Daniel in his comfort zone. 27Sep2009 ------------------------ Great Change Dear Miles, pardon my absolutes but this is what I know. Great change only comes with great loss. We often do not move until something forces us to. It's never enough to just ask for change or recognize that a change is needed. That's usually just the first step and of those who make it only a few will venture beyond. As much as we may want to, as much as we may need to, most of the time we will not change until something happens. Usually something bad. But that makes sense because if we're doing something then it's obviously a habit and it's obviously working on some level. It's simply the nature of man to keep doing what has always been done as long as there is some kind of positive return. A nasty habit or character trait or behaviour that's recognized for its nastiness will not be dealt with until the consequences for that habit or trait or behaviour are catastrophic. This is what I know. My uncle Robbie didn't seek help for substance abuse until he was fired from his executive position. My state representative Olson didn't stop having affairs with his assistants until his hijinks became front page news. My cousin Sal didn't stop smoking until his doctor told him that he had throat cancer. I didn't want to deal with my addiction to pornography until my wife got fed up and scheduled counseling sessions with my priest. My city councilman James didn't want to start reforming the school system until his home was burglarized by seventeen year old drop outs. My co-worker Barabara didn't learn to stop flirting with other men until her fiance said that he couldn't deal with it anymore and ended the engagement. My countrymen didn't decide to put its trust in a black man until things hit absolute rock bottom. Great change only comes with great loss. "This is my rock. This is my rock. It pains to stand on but this is my rock. I will not move. I will not budge. Though I see better, my rock I love. Here I'll stay, no matter the cost. Until I'm knocked off. This is my rock." I wish that we could implement change as easily as we recognize the need for it but this type fantasy seems to violate everything that is. We're creatures of habit. Our uncanny abilities to change and adapt has fueled our evolution and development for centuries but, for the most part, those abilities usually aren't triggered until the eleventh hour. Daniel in his comfort zone. 27Sep2009 ------------------------ My Little Butterfly Dear Miles, I often hear poets and song writers speak of letting a butterfly go so that it may venture out, discover its true love for you, and return. I can understand the desire to let a caged creature go but truthfully I don't ever want my butterfly to leave me. My butterfly is dark and lovely with white specs splashed across patches of crimson and goldenrod. It flutters and flaps all over my home and as I move from room to room it's always right there with me. I know my butterfly is happy because it tells me so in thought, action, and word. Why would I send it out into the world? Why jeopardize the love and safety of my little butterfly by forcing it into a world that could not possibly love it any more than I? What would I do if it were never able to find its way back? I don't need validation from the world to know what I have. I already know what beauty is and I care only about the love that I know now. I'm perfectly content with my little butterfly by my side and as long as its happy then I'm happy and here it shall stay. Dorcia in Cedar Bay. 21Sep2009 ------------------------ Cougar Hunt Dear Miles, could you please point me in the direction of Orlando's largest cougar nest? Where do they hang out? Where do they eat? Where do they hunt? I've heard all kinds of fantastic stories about these mythical creatures and now I'm ready to meet one. I'm ready to be mauled! I'm a 23 year old college student working part time and I'm already tired of punching the clock everyday! Working retail is not the life for me. I'm ready to be supported by a forty something divorcee looking to strike back at her former-hubby by frivolously wasting all of his alomony! A friend of mine was recently captured by a stray cougar and he's already had this semester's tuition paid for and received 4 new Playstation 3 games! My time is now, man. I went out and got my tips frosted, I bought 2 long-sleeve polos with collars ready to be flipped up, and I've got extra cargo shorts and flip-flops ready just in case. I'm young and can easily pretend like I'm naive to the ways of the world. I can be the perfect little pile of clay ready for molding! I've got all the essentials for trodding through cougar country. I hope one hunts me down soon. Madden 10 is out and if I can't get cougar-nabbed soon then I may have to actually go buy the game myself. Brad near U.C.F. 12Sep2009 ------------------------ Selling Green Skies Miles, when you address the people you'd better have your facts straight. If you don't then you had at least better look like you do. If you don't know something then you'd better not admit it because that will be taken as a sign of weakness. Don't have the answers? Make something up. And make it sound good. Deliver it crisply and with a matter-of-fact kind of confidence that would make a slug believe that it should love salt. Throw some statistics in there. That always impresses. Don't worry about them being completely wrong because upwards of 78 percent of all stats are wrong anyway. Besides, it won't matter because by the time someone gets around to researching your fib they will have already done what you needed them to do. Tell them that the sky is green but do it with passion. Conviction. Make them believe it. They will. And always have an answer for every question. Always. They feel uneasy when their questions can't be answered. And if you can't give them one then they'll go and find someone else who will. Don't faulter. Don't flutter. They'll want the truth but they'll want to feel good even more. Feed the monster, young man. Bring passion. They're ready for it. They want it. They need it. They'll buy it. Sell it. Sell that green sky. Linus from The Orchid. 7Sep2009 ------------------------ Residential Dogma Dear Miles, about a month ago I moved in order to take a better paying position with my company. The area I now live in is a more upscale suburb nicknamed Laborador County because of all the dog lovers that reside here. I've got a little mutt named Beasely whom I always thought was treated rather well until I started seeing how these people treat their dogs and now I'm starting to feel like a less-than-adequate dog owner. The whole neighborhood is lined with beautifully trimmed walkways and paths. Beasely's a dog so when I'm walking him and he has to go I just stop and let him handle his business. The first few times I did this people drove by honking and hissing at me. The fourth time I let Beasely relieve himself I was confronted by 3 old ladies with clipboards in a golf cart. They scowled at me and issued me a "Good Neighbor" citation for letting my dog poop outside of the designated poop zones. A dog (or it's owner) that lacked the continence to poop in the designated areas obviously had mental issues so they sentenced me to 30 hours of pet therapy. Normally, I would've crumpled the citation up and thrown it on the ground for Beasely to pee on however the arrogant seniors were empowered by the Home Owner's Association and so non-compliance was not an option. Our pet therapy session felt less like a visit to the doctor's office and more like a church service. It was held in a large hall with bright stained glass windows and intricate animal-themed mosaic tile work on the walls and ceilings. Instead of pews, the hall floor was lined with rows of plush red carpet. Scores of dogs and cats sat proudly on the soft carpet while their owners sat indian style on the exposed hardwood floor behind them. The therapy session basically consisted of 45 minutes of animal meditation music (soft rock with random barking and purring sounds) mixed with the rantings of some pet-shaman praising and cooing to the animals while frowning and scorning their owners. I'd never seen anything like it. Beasely didn't seem terribly impressed either. Now when I'm walking Beasely people I pass don't even make eye contact or say hello. I suspect that I'm on some kind of neighbor watch list for unruly pet owners. I keep my curtains closed whenever I'm home because I don't want anymore trouble but every so often I'll peek out and catch the old ladies cruising by slowly in their golf cart. I think they've got it in for me because I treat my dog like a dog instead of like royalty. Beasely isn't human. He doesn't work, he doesn't contribute to the mortgage, he just eats, sleeps, plays and craps. He's a dog. I love him but I refuse to treat anything that loves to wallow in mud in the evening or kills lizards for fun like an equal. He's a dog. My greatest fear right now is that those old ladies will snatch me on my way to my mailbox one day and crucify me for my beliefs. And the sad irony is that Beasely probably won't even miss me until his automated food dispenser runs out of Kibbles N' Bits. Saint Terry. 1Sep2009 ------------------------ All He Does Dear Miles, I think I'm just about sick and tired of my boyfriend always bossing me around. He's 31 going on 19. I've never seen a man that could do less for himself. He's always asking me to cook, he never does laundry, he never cleans, he doesn't even take his own trash out! All he wants to do is sit around and play his XBox. Day and night. Xbox, Xbox, Xbox. Whenever I want to do something I have to kill the circuit breakers to his TV amd drag him away from his Power Chair. He never wants to go to the theater, to the movies, to the beach, out to eat, or anywhere! The worst part about finally being able to get him to put down his remote control is that it makes him start looking at all of the things that need to be done and then he jumps right back into boss mode. He needs to go live with his mother because she's the only woman who's going to clean up his crap with a smile. Frankly, I don't know how he keeps his lights on. He hates to work and is about one more unnecessary smoke break away from being fired. He's needy, overly-sensitive, and always complaining. He never lifts a finger to please me or do anything to make me remotely happy. It's all about him him him and his stupid XBox. I wish that I could just turn the tables just once to show him how it feels to be in my shoes. Through all of this I still love him even though I can't quite say why. It's complicated, I guess... or maybe not at all. Maybe it's simple but too painful for me to look into. I know that there's probably something wrong with me for staying here but I don't even know if I want to know why that is. I say that I'm sick and tired of the bossing and nagging and XBox and trash bags and cooking and cleaning but really I may just be comfortable. And it sure is hard to shake comfort. Anita in MetroWest. 15Aug2009 ------------------------ A Jillion Calories Dear Miles, as I’m typing this I’m biting into an over-sized, tasty Triple Bypass burger from Greasy Lisa’s. Every time I crunch into the mayo-infused symphony of beef, cheese, lettuce, bacon, onions, tomatoes, and thinly sliced cucumbers my cube mate shudders. She’s a larger girl and she’s always on some crazy new age, earth diet trying to lose ten pounds in two days. I haven’t quite figured out how she does it but she somehow always finds a way to both brag and complain about her latest diet fad. I really could care less but she goes one step too far when she decides to give me crap about the stuff that I eat. I’m a petite girl with a high metabolism and I certainly don’t want to be preached to about the fast food devil while I’m ripping into a greasy bag of Cajun fries. The fact that my burger brings a frown to her health-conscious little forehead makes me smile on the inside. Everyday that she tells me about how her pounds are dropping off because of some new carrots-only diet or about how my Triple Bypass is "like, a jillion calories" just makes me want to indulge even more. Oh how I yearn for my last day on this job when I will be able to finally scream at her that there is no such thing as an all natural, healthy way to drop forty pounds fast without working out at all! If she were a little cooler about stuff and more sensitive to the fact that not everyone is trying to deprive themselves of the finer foods in life then maybe things would be different. But she’s not so they aren’t. Tough cookies. Tough chewy melt-in-your-mouth cookies. When I go to Greasy Lisa’s for lunch, I always ask them to put bacon on my burger just so that I can have the extra calories. And every time that I unwrap my burger and hear her scoff because secretly she would love to pig out just like me then I dedicate that extra bacon to her. Rebecca. 6Aug2009 ------------------------ The Life Dear Miles, my girl, some buddies of mine, and I were all hanging out when the subject of professional athletes and groupies came up. None of us were in the NBA or NFL or anything like that but we had other friends who ran in those circles and so the stories started to fly. One of them was about a pretty popular football player who always seemed to have a small flock of attractive females around him no matter where he went. Granted Miles, we weren't just talking about regular attractive females, we're talking Grade A, top-of-the-shelf, rap video vixen, tooth care product modeling, super bad, attractive females. They could be heard openly clamouring and strategizing about what each could do to be taken home by the pro player. Their skirts were high, their lashes were fully extended, their lips were juicy, their hair was right, their heels were clear, and their sights were locked. It was gold digging in it's purest form. As we sat and listened we shook our heads in disgust but at the same time we all had a wry smile of wonder and jealousy on our faces.... all except for my girl, of course. Later on that evening she asked me how we could marvel at something like that. It was clear that those women only wanted him for financial gain, were manipulative and scandalous, and yet still so desirable. I thought for a minute and I told her this: yes, we were all aware of the true nature of the heifers but we were still men. Almost every single man walking God's green earth spends a large portion of his time chasing, plotting to chase, or wishing he could chase women. It's been engrained in the fabric of our DNA since the dawn of our species. Women have always had the luxury of being chased (for the most part). That's how the rules were written and so that's how the game was played. When we hear stories of other men just like us (also.. for the most part) who no longer have to chase but instead become the chased: it marvels us on some level. And we're not just talking about being chased by any old females. We're talking being chased by the top tier females that almost any other guy would break his neck chasing. That sensation or phenomenon is foreign to most guys so when we hear about it it's captivating. We fully understand why those guys are being chased but man-logic allows us to push that little formality to the side. Naturally, the athletes realize this too but they either don't care or somehow manage to push their concerns aside for about 2 minutes. All through the glory of man-logic. George the Great in Orlando. 29Jul2009 ------------------------ Drawn To Me Dear Miles, you're an artist so tell me if you can relate to this or not. I've been doodling ever since I was high school and in my final semester at college I took a class on drawing. I picked up some pretty nifty techniques and habits from the class and after a few years of practicing I'm actually pretty good at sketching people. I like to practice and keep my skills sharp so from time to time I'll ask or be asked to sketch a friend. When it comes to the subject of being drawn, I've basically seen 3 types of people: those who cannot wait for me to sketch them, those who are generally just pretty cool about it or indifferent, and those who absolutely hate the suggestion. So with a burning desire to put my costly psychology degree to good use, certain queries arise. Namely: could a person's desire to see themself captured by an artist be an indicator of self-esteem? If you asked someone would they like to be sketched and they immediately shuddered at the very notion could mean that they have a less then favorable view of themselves? The same theory would have to apply to someone who refuses to take pictures, right? Is there a fear that their ugliest feature will suddenly leap up off of the drawing board and start taunting them? Adversely, what would you make of someone who simply would not stop bugging you to take their picture? Narcisistic? An over-eagerness to be immortalized on canvas, a piece of glossy paper, or on their favorite social networking site has to be an indicator of a positive self-image, right? Hard to say, I guess. But I think that I could be on to something. Good, bad, or indifferent, a person's enthusiasm to be sketched could provide yet another window into their soul. So if I have a friend who immediately strikes a pose whenever I reach for a ballpoint pen, could I safely assume that they've got a healthy over-confidence about them? Maybe swagger 9000. Later. Andre from Pompano. 24Jul2009 ------------------------ When Presidents Murder Wassup Miles, did you have any idea that the PETA (People Eating Tasty Animals) folks were mad at Obama for killing a fly on national television?! Wow. Show me the man or woman outraged at the mere sight of the President of the United States killing a pesky fly while addressing the media and I'll show you a man or woman with no real worries in life. Who are these people? I thought my co-workers were telling me a sick joke when I first heard about this. There HAVE to be bigger things going on in their lives right? RIGHT? And if these boys and girls are on some type of mad campaign to make sure that none of God's beautiful creatures die then please tell me how they manage to walk through the woods to their eco-friendly houses without stepping on and murdering hundreds of insects? And what about the microscopic bed bugs and teensy spiders that they inhale while snoring every night in their straw beds? And how could we forget about the innocent sugar ants who die every time they plop their recycling bins out on the curb? Are these people writing letters to themselves in defense of the sugar ants? Maybe I've got it all backwards. Maybe I'm the one who's working too hard to live my life. I tend to spend my time worrying about things like mortgages and bills and the well-being of kids. The Obama hating, tree-humpers obviously don't have any of that kinda crap to deal with because they've got enough free time and energy to be pissed off over first-degree fly slaughter. Maybe they've got the sweetest existence of us all. And what's even cooler is that if reincarnation really does occur then they're practically guaranteed to come back as an awe-inspiring dove or a beautiful mango tree while 9 to 5 drudgers such as I will probably end up coming back as a salt slug or a shovel or something. Chaz in East Orange County. 15Jul2009 ------------------------ Never Hit A Woman Sometimes Dear Miles, my girlfriend and I recently got into a big argument over when it is and is not appropriate for a man to hit a woman. At first she was of the opinion that a man should NEVER hit a woman but after I presented a few scenarios to her I was able to make her see that all members of the fairer sex aren't made of sugar and spice and thus are fair game for a laying on of hands under certain circumstances. What circumstances, you ask? Well, I've presented a few instances for clarification. If she pulls out a gun and cocks it as if she's about to fire then it's okay to defend yourself and smack her. If she burns the corn bread: probably not. If she lunges at you with a sharp knife: definitely. If she doesn't pick your socks up off of the floor: probably not. If she's driving a tank and aiming the turret at your house: yup, beat her. If she accidently throws out your new Sports Illustrated with the junk mail: it's debatable, but mostly likely shouldn't hit her for this. If she records over a taped episode of Lost or a sporting event: if you've already seen it then you shouldn't hit her but if you haven't seen it yet then it's okay. If she's strangling you with her purse handles: smack her. If she's stabbing you with a ballpoint pen: yes. If she uses the last piece of toilet paper and doesn't replace the roll: close, but not quite beat-down worthy. If she just will not stop nagging: most likely not. If she's beating you with a baseball bat: yes. If she's beating you at Scrabble: probably not. I hope that this clears up any misconceptions. Ken in Orlando. 14Jul2009 ------------------------ Doing It Right Dear Miles, have you noticed that some people just have a way about themselves? I know it's somewhat of an abstract subject but follow me on this. Some people just seem to know the right thing to say and the right thing to do. It's some kind of a weird hybrid of being organization, competent, and having an awesome bed-side manner. Sometimes people get tasked with something and it's a waiting game to see when they're going to screw it up. Some people are just wired to tip over when the mountain becomes too steep and some curl up in a fretful ball at the mere sight of a mountain. But then there are those who always seem to find a way. Some people are just born to do it and even when it's clear that they weren't they figure something out and still find a way to get it done. Some people get results and some people just do. Isn't it odd how some people can be programmed like that while others completely miss out? I saw a cartoon of a man labeled a "Doer" peeing on the caption "Dreamers" and I guess it got me thinking about those who dream of doing and those who find a way to do. If you asked five people who really knew you about what type of person you are, which would they say you are? Davis in Orlando. 13Jul2009 ------------------------ Love And Cole Slaw Miles, my woman and I been together for a long time. And we still love each other alot. People always coming up to me asking about what's our secret. I tell them that it ain't really no big secret. You just have to care about the other person, want what's best for her, and then you two gotta be able to keep it interesting. I'm not saying that yall gotta go to another country every week cause not everyone can do that. Yall just gotta do what makes yall happy. Like us for example, we far from skin and bones. My wife could probly smother a potato sack full of pork chops in under 2 minutes easy. Thats what she does and I love her for that. So when I start talking dirty to her I tell her stuff that she wants to hear and stuff that matters to her. I'll say like how much I miss her while I'm at work and how if I was home we'd be all snuggled up on the couch sharing a warm plate of pork chops. Or I'd say that I wish that we was home rolling around in a bed covered with her special 12 seasoned fried chicken and cole slaw. She love that! Especially when I talk about her cole slaw cause she puts a lot of love and time into chopping it up and making it perfect everytime. It gives her goosebumps still after all of these years and so when I do get home she's happy to see me and has a big pot of stew beef with the carrots and potatoes waiting warm and ready. That's love. That's our love. I know it might sound crazy to somebody else but I dont pay them no mind cause they don't keep my lights on. We found something that work for us. I just tell any young couple that ask about us to find out what kind of love they have. Find out what matters to them. Thadeus in Orlando. 30Jun2009 ------------------------ Shannon Burke Miles, have you been keeping up with the updates on Shannon? What a mess. Super popular radio personality goes postal and tries to shoot wife’s dog but winds up ricocheting the bullet and grazing his wife’s head. Piece in a couple of prior incidents and you’ve got a nice little slingshot for toppling Goliath. I say again: what a mess. I loved his show too. It was men’s radio at its finest. I’m not going to speak to the possibilities of alcohol abuse or anything like that because I wasn’t at the Burke household and I’m not one to throw stones. But I will say is this: it takes years to build a city and only hours to burn it down. It’s almost cruel really how we can work so hard for so long to build up a great career and a great relationship and a great life and then loose it all in one fleeting bout of stupidity. Sure does suck to have to be on your toes all of the time but sometimes it seems as though that’s what it takes. Even if you’ve been straight and narrow for 20 years, your one moment of weakness can tarnish everything and become your legacy. Who knew that it could all be so fragile? Answer: anyone who ever paid attention to the hundreds of thousands of others who have fallen before you. I wish him the best though and I hope he finds the strength to tackle what ever demons he’s facing. I don’t care how many times it happens, the fall of a man is never an easy thing for me to see. What a mess indeed. Have a good weekend, man. Jeffery in Maitland. 9May2009 ------------------------ When It Rains Hey Miles, after a very long dry spell, it finally rained this morning. Halleluyah. I love when it rains. I guess it could mean a lot of things for a lot of different people but for me it means that I’m alive. Isn’t that odd? What a great feeling though. Where I live it usually starts off pretty tranquilly with a few drizzles here and there. I usually just try to keep still and let a hush come over me. Then things start flowing and before I know it I’m caught up in the rhythm of an approaching downpour. This is the only time that I take to truly slow down. I think about everything and nothing all at once. Finally the heavens open up and everything is saturated. I shiver in delight. I love it when it rains. It doesn’t happen quite as frequently as I would like it too but that’s alright. All things in time and a time for all things. It’s elusiveness just makes the rainy season even more enjoyable. I felt alive again this morning and I’m thrilled that this was possibly and quite probably the first indication that a new rainy season is coming. Don’t know how high you get but if you see the rain man anytime soon tell him that I said thanks. The Rain Dancer. 9May2009 ------------------------ Joni Mitchell Never Lies Dear Miles, isn’t it funny and sad how things can hit us? Epiphanies and realizations are horrible time keepers in that you never known when they will come and all to often they arrive far to late. Why is it so many of life’s greatest lessons arrive on the eve of disaster? Why must I have something that’s been right in front of my face forever snatched away from me for me to even realize that it was there? And why is it only then that I realize how much I loved having it right there. On and on it seems to go... But you don’t know what you’ve got til’ it’s gone. Barabara in Orlando. 3May2009 ------------------------ Kid Smack Dear Miles, I pulled up into my driveway this morning after working the graveyard shift and was having a nice little driveway moment with my favorite morning talk show. My neighbor's garage door goes up and out walks his 2 pre-teen boys. They both have their backpacks and as they stand and wait to get into their father's car I can instantly see who was the bully of the two. I've seen them both running around the neighborhood like headless chickens but this morning a fight was brewing. Suddenly the slightly bigger one smacked the little one and threw his backpack to the ground. I watched and laughed because it took me back to my childhood watching my brothers beat each other up. I guess the littler one got fed up because he charged back with a whimpering counter-assault and an all out fifth grade shoving match broke out. They were both yelling loudly. Then the bigger one looked over his shoulder and instantly took off running. I was a little confused at first until I saw their dad thundering out of the garage at full speed. The windows of my car are tinted but I slouched down a little anyway so that he wouldn't notice me. He didn't actually catch the boy running but he did get within striking distance and so he attempted a mighty swipe at the boy. It was hilarious. I've been living there for almost a year and I've never seen him move like that. I'm certainly no advocate of child abuse but I can appreciate a good butt-whooping... especially for little boys because they need it. He was dressed for work and everything but it was clear that if he had to get sweaty for the sake of smacking his boys around then he was ready and willing! You should've seen me slumped over in my car silently rooting him on. "Yeah!! Beat those bad kids!! Beat 'em!!" Aubrey in Apopka. 25Apr2009 ------------------------ 100 Bowling Dear Miles, I just saw a 100 year old woman bowling on ESPN and it just made me wonder how odd it is that some people seem to find the magic of long life while the rest of us can only watch and struggle. And I'm not talking just living a long time because modern medical science could probably keep me alive for 150 years as a vegetable. I'm talking about a long and active life. At the very least, I pray to God that I can keep all of my mental capacities up until the very end. How complex is the human body? Complex enough for us to still have no earthy idea how some people can go on so much longer then others. The 95 year old deacon at my church will tell you he attributes his longevity to clean living, prayer, and religious faithfulness but on the other hand my father has an uncle who credits his 102 years to a cigarette and a glass of Bourbon everyday. So not being any closer then some herbal company pushing life-extension pills for 75 bucks each I'm going to go out on a limb and say that the long lifers did stuff that made them happy. Or maybe it's all just in the genes. In spite of themselves, maybe some folks were just born not to die. We'll probably figure it all out one day because it's the nature of man to figure stuff out but I doubt if it will be in my lifetime. Chauncey in Lake Mary. 20Apr2009 ------------------------ In Case Of Fire Dear Miles, my company recently released an internal memo citing some changes to our emergency evacuation procedures. I guess with all of the corporate espionage and cyber thievery going on they want to make sure that no valuable data is left exposed so we're supposed to make sure that we log off of our computers, lock up any open file cabinets, and shred any sensitive material. Who in their right minds would stop to gather up paperwork and go to the shredder if the fire alarm was screeching? And what if the fire was right in front of the paper shredder? I'll bet management would want us to step through the flames to make sure that their precious forged and fraudulent documents get destroyed! They're also wrong to ask me to move calmly towards an exit and wait patiently inline for my turn to exit the building. No way, suits. If someone is in my way while I'm sprinting to the door then they'd better have the hand skills of an offensive lineman because I'm knocking bodies down. And if the exit door is over-crowded then I'm resorting to the tried and true chair-thru-window technique. It's a little crude and outdated but it worked for my great granddad in the textile plant fire of 1902 and it'll work fine for me! Fires and emergency situations of the like are primal tests of survival and only the fit will survive, baby. If I'm stupid enough to wait around for my Windows PC to shutdown while the ambient room temperature is rising to 120 degrees then I deserve to die. My company has some nerve making a request like that when I've got 4 kids and a wife who are waiting for me to come home everyday. Maybe if they weren't so afraid of information being leaked about how shotty their financial bookkeeping was or about how they're paying sub-contractors the equivalent of a basket of fruit then they wouldn't have to worry so much! And they had better not schedule too many fire-drills because whenever I hear that fire alarm I start running and I don't stop until I'm in my car and on my way home. Gregory in Sales. 12Apr2009 ------------------------ Regional Pie Dear Miles, I believe you're a fellow pastry lover so you may appreciate my dilemma. I love pies. Sweet potato, pecan, cheery; you name it. Right now I'm torn between supporting 2 pastry shops: Countrified Pastries and Citified Bakery, Inc. Countrified makes delicious down-home pies like grandmother used to make. They put a lot of love into their pies and the passion for baking is evident with every forkful but they're a very conservative bakery and they take their sweet time in getting your dessert prepared. Their motto: good things are worth the wait. Citified, on the other hand, is an around the clock, pie-producing machine. They take on a more aggressive and direct approach to business and make sure that their quotas are met and that customers get the pies that they want in a prompt manner. My heart is with Countrified but my head is with Citified. I love a conservative, caring pastry shop but I'm also a well-paying customer and I shouldn't have to wait forever and a day for service. Yes, good things are worth the wait but there is such a thing as too long of a wait and every minute that Countrified takes to slowly craft a delicious masterpiece is another minute that a loyal customer has to consider going over to the competition. Times are different now, my dessert loving friend. The consumer is no longer at the mercy of the baker. Countrified Pastries is starting to feel the sting of competition not because their product is inferior but because they simply refuse to change their way of doing business. I don't want them to become the new Citified Bakeries, Inc. I just want them to understand that I and a ton of other good customers just want a bakery who can meet us halfway. Show use a quality pumpkin pie with promptness and quality customer service and we'll make sure that profit margins go through the roof. Sounds like a sweet deal to me. Bon appetite. Frederick in Baldwin Park. 10Apr2009 ------------------------ 35,000 Dollar Huts Miles, have you ever heard someone say that if that had just a liiiittle more money that they would be happy? Did you look at them and think to yourself that they were only fooling themselves? Ready for my theory? I'll bet you that 9 times out of 10, as soon as they get the liiiiiittle bit of extra money that they need that they'll soon have need for just a liiiiiiittle bit more. Ever seen footage of remote, "under-developed" communities on National Geographic? Those people are living in huts crafted from dirt and straw, they kill everything that they eat themselves, they walk everywhere that they go, and yet many of them still seem to be very happy with their lives. Okay so let's say that going out and killing dinner and living in a straw hut sucked and so we gave everyone in the village 35,000 a year to upgrade their lives. Surely, happiness and contentment would be widespread throughout the community in a matter of years right? Probably not. And why? Because it's not the amount of money you make or the size of your hut that brings happiness. It's the outlook of the individual. Miles, I'll probably never be a millionaire, I'll probably never be able to buy my wife a yatch, I'll probably never be able to afford a private jet to fly me to the supermarket, and I'm okay with all of that. My wife and kids are healthy, my bills are being paid, and my life is peaceful. Money won't cure a miserable person and it will never satisfy a greedy person. It will never be enough. It's all up to the individual. How else can you explain a couple with a combined income of 30,000 who've been together for 40 years and are both just as content as can be? Would I like more money coming in? Of course, I would. Do I need more money coming in to be happy or feel complete? No. I could live out the rest of my days in happiness even if my situation never got any better then what it is right now. My level of contentment is something that I and I alone can decide. I have a straw hut and I can choose to either embrace my hut or spend the rest of my days wishing that I had a bigger one. There's nothing at spake but my happiness. Geraldine in Orlando. 9Apr2009 ------------------------ General Motors Dear Miles, did you see the new CEO of GM on Meet The Press? I certainly didn't hear any new revelations about how things will be done differently but I guess it would be hard for someone that high up to speak of specifics... or perhaps the changes are still in the works. I certainly hope so. I'm hearing quite a few market purists who are upset because a business has to get permission to do business from Uncle Sam but I think that that's just what happens when you open your palm and accept all of that delicious money. Even with the bailout, most of which probably got allocated to overdue union costs, bankruptcy is still on the table and is looking more and more like a viable option everyday. The sad realization of a GM slim down (cutting brands like Hummer, Saturn, and who knows what else) and re-tooling just shows that things got too big. I know there are hundreds upon thousands of retired and working autoworkers and shareholders who depend on GM but its looking like that giant will not be able to stand anymore. I heard that GM stock was a healthy 40 dollars a share last year and is now 2 dollars. Building a better car or truck doesn't just start at the draft table, it's probably going to mean slicing out some of the massive overhead. There's too much competition from the outside now, so unless we're talking about shutting down trade or levying a huge tax on imports, then the old guard will definitely need to do something other then what it's been doing. Right? George in Pine Hills. 5Apr2009 ------------------------ Bears And Wolves Dear Miles, ready for a bedtime story? There once was a fine kitten with fine fur and paws, whose finest possession was a little red ball. Her ball she would bounce 40 times in a day, hoping and praying for someone to play. Tired of hoping she scheduled her play dates, but found only wolves to serve as her play mates. Her little red ball they'd snag, tear, and bind it. Pummeled to pieces what she thought her finest. And lo every night there'd be tears in her whiskers, cause wolves with a red ball are mean, awful critters. By morning her tears were blown dry by the wind and she'd cleaned her red ball to play with them again. One day when the wolves were done tearing and trouncing she feared that her red ball would see no more bouncing. So she toiled all night with her red glue and plastic, and hated wolf play mates for their play was tragic. "Never o never" she cried the next day, "will I offer my red ball for others to play!" So she bounced her red ball 10 times in a week, until one day a bear passed on his way to eat. This bear, named Sir Teddy, was swift on his paws and fancied the kitten and her finest red ball. So he asked could he play in a manner polite but the kitten cried out "Sir, a wolf you look like!" The bear said "no ma'am I assure you I'm not. My paws, fur, and honey are all that I've got." For the bear was born gentle and loved bouncy things, and promised to bounce softly as flowers in spring. But she snubbed his kindness, said "all wolves are liars!" and, whiskers turned skyward, clutched her red ball tighter. And o that fine kitten with such fine fur and paws, was trapped by her fear of one breaking her ball. And her fear kept her from finding some one to play for even great play mates she'd send on their way. Sarah. 1Apr2009 ------------------------ Friday Afternoon Hi Miles, I'm writing this letter to you live from the sunny shores of Clearwater Beach. When I saw Clearwater Beach I mean my job and when I say sunny shores I mean my dreary desk. My florescent desk lamp blew out about a month ago and the maintenance folks haven't brought a new one so I've pretty much been doing all of my work by flashlight. It's Friday afternoon and while other richer, smarter, and happier folks are out doing all the great things in life other then working, I'm here working. But it's Friday afternoon and everyone knows that no one works on Friday afternoon so actually I'm just here sitting. I'm trapped, Miles. The year is still young and I've already impulsively burned most of my vacation time. I slipped out early everyday this week so now I'm forced to be here and fulfill the 40 hour obligation that I foolishly signed up for when I took the job. I could and probably should be filling out paperwork but who the heck wants to sort through file cabinets overloaded with paperwork dating back to the Nixon administration when they could be out making plans for a beautiful weekend? Not me. But I needed something to do so I decided to write you a letter. Isn't that sweet? After this, I'll probably shoot off a couple of hate emails to some annoying reality television stars and then go looking around for those little, wrapped butterscotch candies that people tend to leave on their desks. They're real popular around here and quite delicious. This stuff should kill about 2 hours and I guess I could try to power through that last critical third hour. But if I can find today's paper laying around here somewhere then I could give that third hour to the crosswords. What's a 5 letter word for having lots of crap to do but not caring to do any of it? Hope you were more productive then I was today. Cheers. Caroline in Orlando. 20Mar2009 ------------------------ The Picture of Singularity Dear Miles, can you please tell me why my married friends think that my life is miserable just because I'm single? Yesterday I was telling a friend about some of my hobbies and she couldn't do anything but give me the sympathy face. As if to say that I only read or paint or jog to supplement not having a man in my life. I'm always quick to remind her that at one point centuries ago she had a life without her husband and was very happy. But she never seems to remember those days and instead subscribes to the theory that only now her life has meaning because she's found a hubby. What a mess! Of course I would also like to find my Mr. Right, get married, and have a horde of babies but that desire doesn't drive my life. I'd also like to win the lotto and move to Paris but you don't see me spazing out about that. I don't let my numbers not being called sink me into a depression. Some things in life I can control like my performance on my job or painting a picture while I listen to my favorite Mary J. Blige song and then there are some things in life that I cannot control. So I try not to worry about the things that are (for the most part) out of my hands. I alone am responsible for my happiness. After her sympathy face she always finds a way to ask a ridiculous question. "So how're things between you and Ethan?" When she knows very well that Ethan was a leech and a mama's boy who I had stopped calling months ago. So I guess what she's thinking is that it's better for me to be with someone who rummages through my purse and still lets his mother fold his underwear rather then be by myself. "Well... at least you were with someone." Honestly Miles, I think that other people have their own issues with being alone and they subconsciously project those onto others like me. But I guess there's not a whole lot that I can do about that, can I? Maybe I'll paint her a sad picture so that she can think that she's right about me and be happy. Have a good weekend. Ms. Vertina from Peaohef Bay. 13Mar2009 ------------------------ Mexican Housing Crunch Dear Miles. Actually, the subject line in my email is not true. I was driving home today and heard a report on NPR about how these tough economic times are affecting housing markets everywhere except for Mexico. The reporter said that this is because Mexico went through a similar housing market down tour some time ago. This led them to adopt some tighter regulations concerning mortgage lending. While most Mexicans would probably be considered poor by American standards, upwards of 90 percent of them own their own houses. We certainly couldn't site a statistic like that here. Analysts say that their market is flourishing because they prohibit questionable sub-prime and fixed rate mortgages. The very same things that put us in this gigantic mess. In addition to this, the banks and lenders are much more eager to help borrowers who default on payments because really no one wins when folks can't pay their mortgages. We got greedy, Miles. Everyone did. We can't just blame greedy lenders for letting sub-prime mortgages slip through. We have to also blame all of the people who bought a $300000 home when they knew that they could only afford a $150000 one. I don't care what people say, everyone is not supposed to be in a $500000 home. A lot of people did things they weren't supposed to do so maybe all of this is just the system purging and balancing itself back out. Hopefully then the dust settles we'll be able to regather ourselves, take a few lessons from our southern neighbors, and put some rules in place to make sure that this kind of thing never happens to our kids or grandkids. Abondale in Deltona. 5Mar2009 ------------------------ She's Just Not That Interested Wassup Miles, I read your article on "the fall of the brotherhood" and I found everything in it to be 2 hundred percent true. Young men are getting soft. They're crying, whining, and throwing tantrums more then the law should allow. And when I see a guy with his period on, nothing pains me more then to see that it was caused by a woman. Young cats just aren't coping like they're supposed to. That's why they're off doing stupid stuff like hiding in her bushes at night and calling her 5 times a day to check up on her. So in order to help these youngbloods pick up on the signs that they're missing I've come up some sure fire ways to see that she's just not that interested. 1) If she says things like "that's why we can never be together" then she's already gone. No need to stick around. 2) A woman will let you know if she's interested. If she's shy then she'll do little things to let you know. If she's not shy then she'll do big things to let you know. If she's not then you wont hear from her. It's that simple. Even old school chicks will find ways to let you know that they're interested. It doesn't matter how busy she is, how much schoolwork is due, how many errands she has to run, how many reports she has to sign off on; if she's feeling you then she will make time to call or take your calls. It's that simple. 3) If she's talking about other guys she's interested in in front of you then she's probably not that interested in you. 4) If she's returning your call days after you left a message or if she calls on Thursday when she said she would call on Sunday then you're probably not that high on her list of priorities. Adjust accordingly, pick up, and move on, youngbloods. Life is full of surprises and there are plenty of other rejections to come, I promise. Man up and move on. Is a great woman worth fighting for? Of course! But if she's really that great for you and if you two were destined to be together then why is it so hard for her to see it that way too? Get it? Spread the word. Bruce in Gotham City. 28Feb2009 ------------------------ Fall of the Brotherhood Miles, is it just me or is the brotherhood getting soft? Has women's liberation and the rise of the independent woman stripped us of our manhood? Was our manhood so fragile that it was capable of being lost so easily? I talk to some of my young nephews and the post-adolescents in my neighborhood and it seems as though young men are softer then ever nowanaddays! Over-sensitivity and the inability to cope seem to be running rampant. You can't even poke fun at a young fella without him putting on a poutty face and scurrying back to his mommy's warm bosom. Seems like while they have enough guts to spread seed there's not enough to get a career and work hard for the things that matter. They all want a man's title but not the responsibility of ownership. What is the deal? Soft, soft, soft! I'm in my early fifties so I'll be the first to admit that it's probably my generations fault. For some reason or another we've turned our back on reaching back to help mold and sculpt these young fellas. And now we're paying for it because we're afraid that those very same boys will rob us or shoot us. But it's not too late, man. Boys just need an example in their lives. A positive example. I'm going to try to reach back and see who I can help. I may get my hand slapped away a few times but that's okay. Something's got to give. This generation of young men are having kids and if they were never properly instructed in the fine art of manhood then how will they be able to train their boys? Earl in Orlando. 17Feb2009 ------------------------ My Funny Valentine Dear Miles, last year I made the horrible mistake of inviting other people into my love life. I accidently told a group of older female co-workers that I had a crush on one of my lady friends and that I was considering asking her out on Valentine's Day. I was just wishfully thinking out loud but they swooped down on me, grabbed me with their claws, and made me their little pet project. My situation had evolved beyond my simple crush and had become an excuse for them to live out a romance novel vicariously through me! They hounded me everyday for 2 weeks leading up to the faithful day and pretty much peer pressured me into making a move against my better judgement. They pumped up my ego and filled my head with ridiculous ideas of me riding in on a great white stallion, professing my burning passion for this girl, and then riding off into the sunset with her. On Valentine's Day night, they were all on speaker-phone encouraging me as I went to the florist and purchased 25 red roses and an "I Love You" balloon so big that the only way that I could transport it was to drive with it hanging outside of my window. I had tried to call my friend a few times to let her know that I was coming by but I'd received no answer. When I arrived at her apartment I gathered the items and boldly marched up the steps to declare my intentions. I knocked intently on the door and after a while it opened. She stood in the doorway with her bathrobe on and a perplexed look on her face. I was smiling from ear to ear and just as my chest was about to explode in victory I heard a deep and very masculine voice coming from inside asking if everything was alright. It was then and only then that it dawned on me that the reason that she wasn't answering her phone was because she was probably making sweet love to her boyfriend. I probably should've spent less time listening to those old women on my job and spent more time actually researching to see if I was doing something smart. The moral of last year's little Valentine's Day debacle and the theme for this year's endeavor is simple: keep your personal business to yourself and be careful about who you take love advice from. Josh B. in Orlando. 9Feb2009 Good evening, Miles. I just read your Valentine's Day article and I can proudly disagree with you. Not all women use Valentine's Day as a day to "cash in". My boyfriend always treats when we go out and is always a gentlemen about that kind of stuff. This Valentine's Day I'm flipping the script and treating him to a lovely night out. I've booked a table at a nice restaurant and afterwards I've got a nice surprise in store for him when we get back home. I'd give you more details but a lady never tells ;) So you see, it's not all about taking for all of us. I see it as just one of the days that I can show my appreciation for him and I'd honestly be perfectly fine if all he did was give me a kiss on that day. Renee in MetroWest. 9Feb2009 Dear Miles, we all know that Valentine's Day is just another reason for companies to cash in. The occasion probably was created with the best of intentions but it's since been reduced to just an all out attempt by candy-makers, flower salesmen, and jewelers to guilt poor schlubs into buying as much expensive crap as possible. Right? Of course it is. Why on earth else would a flower shop run a commercial telling me that the only true way to show my wife that I love her is to buy her one of their rose bouquets but then turn around and charge me 50 bucks for this magical, must-have bouquet?? Just last week that bouquet was selling for 12.99! It's all just an elaborate ploy to fleece John Q. Public for as much of his hard earned dollar as possible. They've brilliantly created demand! But do you want to know the sickest irony of all? My wife has a Bachelor's in both psychology and consumer sociology. She's one of the smartest people I know. She speaks eloquently on how our money-hungry, capitalistic society has brain-washed it's people into thinking that material possessions and the purchase of gifts define both ourselves and our relationships. She knows it's all a con. We talk about it all the time..... And yet if I don't show up with a big bouquet of flowers, a shiny box of candy, and a nicely wrapped gift on Valentine's Day she will probably stab me in my kidneys. Welcome to crazy world. Kyle from the flower shop. 8Feb2009 ------------------------ I Hate U, Miles 12 Dearest Miles, sometimes I think you're a jerk just for the sheer pleasure of being a jerk. It seems like all you love to do is give me a hard time about everything. You warmonger. All you want to do is argue me to death. Why can't you just let somethings go my way? I mean is that just too much to ask for? You act like it truly hurts your soul to let me have my way. I've never met a guy who was so damn difficult. Sometimes I adore you for not caving in to my every want and desire like most guys I know but other times it makes me want to climb on a rooftop and scream. You don't have to ALWAYS be right. Other people actually do come up with good ideas from time to time. You better not ever be wrong about anything ever in your life again because if you are and I'm around I will never let you hear the end of it. You hear me? Don't slip up, sweety. Don't err, don't fault, don't stumble. Because when you do I'll be there with a smile and a finger in your face saying "maybe you should've tried it someone else's way." Sometimes you really, really make me sick. Shantell in Orlando. 7Feb2009 ------------------------ Square One Dear Miles, isn't it funny how we can sometimes ask God for all of the things that we want and never realize that what we need could already be right in front of us? With all of the access and information that we receive I think it's possible that we can see too much. Everything that we see isn't for us but it sure is easy to think that it should be. Sometimes I think that things were a lot simpler back in the day. You looked for the fundamentals and in time everything else just feel into place. Doesn't it seem like we were happier with less? I'd hate to have to go out searching for something and blow a whole lot of time only to come back and see that what I really should've been looking for was right back where I started. And what would be even worse would be to get back and for it to be gone. Why would God waste his time giving me something that I want when he's already put what I need right in front of me? Before I venture off again, I think I'm going to take a good look at what's in front of me. I'm going to open my eyes and get back to the basics. I'd feel like an absolute fool if I set out on a treasure hunt only to find out that I had gold back at home. Aneri in Pine Hills. 6Feb2009 ------------------------ My Strength Dear Miles, much like Samson and the Steeler's defensive superstar Troy Polamalu, my strength in life comes from my hair. My hispanic father and Indonesian mother combined their superior follicle genes to produce a thick haired baby-stud nearly 25 years ago. I haven't cut my hair since I was nineteen and things in my life have been awesome ever since. I find that I operate in 2 modes depending on whether or not my hair is tied back. When my wavy locks are held in place, tucked, or tied up I'm a pretty calm and collective person. But when I let my hair down to blow to and fro in the wind then I become this super-aggressive, ultra competitor. I think it's me tapping into my ancient primal, wild man instincts. I used to play basketball and football but I had to stop because I was simply too competitive for organized play. I felt like the Hulk because the longer my hair would get the madder, faster, and stronger I would become. On the court I'd usually foul out in the 2nd half and on the gridiron I'd always rack up penalties for my team with my horse-collar, clotheslining, and choking tackling techniques. I was unstoppable. I was an unstoppable beast. The only way that I can function in working society is by having the luscious locks tied up firmly. This subconsciously curbs my primal urges to run wild and free and allows me to work with other people from 9 to 5 everyday. Unfortunately, every so often my mighty hair manages to wrangle its way out of the tie or rubberband that I use to hold it and when this happens all hell breaks loose. One day my rubberband popped while I was in a men's clothing store. I suddenly got super paranoid and then started jumping over racks of bargain priced casual wear and tackling mannequins. On another occasion my hair sprung free while I was stuck in rush hour traffic. In a fit of rage I started blowing my horn and crashing into the cars in front of me demolition derby style. Mere traffic lanes could not contain me as I found myself swerving onto medians and driving on sidewalks whenever possible to get where I needed to go. I was a force to be reckoned with! So while it can get me in trouble sometimes, I don't think I'll ever be able to cut my hair. Ever. It charges down my neck and back like the mighty Amazon and boldly yells to the world that it and I are better then you. Carlos the Great. 31Jan2009 ------------------------ Man Down Miles, so yesterday Im flipping through over 400 channels of glorious cable channels and I came across one of those variety shows on one of the spanish networks. Now I don't speak a lick of espanol but they had a gorgeous, bubbling brunette on just smiling at me so I decided to give the remote a break. Before it could even make it's second bounce on the sofa cushion my wife stormed in and began fussing about me looking at other women. This happens all of the friggin' time, man. I can't even cross the sidewalk in the shadow of another woman because she'll start nagging. If an attractive female crosses into my line of sight what am I supposed to do? Stare at the ground?! Naw. I'm a friggin' man, what does she expect? It's not like I'm oggling other women in front of her for crying out loud! If I had been looking at the ground 6 years ago I certainly wouldn't have seen her. She didn't have a problem with it back then but now that she's gained a little weight she's always got her peepers on my peepers. When she buys hair magazines, she tears out pictures of girls that she thinks are too pretty! Thank God none of my neighbors are hot or else she'd probably force us to move to a retirement community or something. I'm married, not blind man. I don't want to be with any other woman but that doesn't mean that I don't find other people attractive anymore. Can a man not enjoy a beautiful piece of artwork in heels in piece? Am I not a man? Have I not eyes? Can I not looketh? Help me out here. Flanigan in Osceola. 30Jan2009 ------------------------ Shut Up, Mom Hey Miles. Yesterday while meandering in the bakery aisle at the grocery store I over heard the conversation of a woman and what sounded like her daughter coming from the next aisle. The two weren't speaking loudly but I could tell that they were bickering about something. I tried to focus on finding the perfect icing for a carrot cake that I was planning but their squabbling continued and I found myself tuning in. The mother was timidly trying to chastise the girl for her poor study habits but the daughter was being extremely defensive. Defense turned to offense when I started hearing the daughter bite back sharply with phrases like: "mom, you're being ridiculous right now", "you can't possibly understand what it feels like to be me", and "oh, just be quiet mother!" I shook my head in disgust and casually walked over to their aisle. The mother was a thin blonde who probably could've passed for Jodie Foster and the daughter was a bulbous, teenager with too much eyeshadow and way too many piercings. As I slowly pushed my cart towards them, the mother saw me and tried to rein in the conversation but the daughter wasn't through with her verbal assault. "Mom, you are totally clueless about the world!" The daughter picked up a bag of potatoes and bellowed "I want these!" The mother looked at me in obvious shame and gave me a tired "what can I do" shrug as she took the bag of chips and placed them in her cart. She knew that she had no control of her daughter. "... besides mom, no one pays attention in his class anyway so why should I waste my time?" I'd seen enough. I walked up to the mom, removed the bag of chips from her cart, looked her square in the face, and asked her "are you paying the bills in your household or is she?" They both were shocked and before the mom could give a weak reply I placed the bag of chips in her hands and said "Act like it, sweetie. I know you have to bend a tree while it's a sapling but it's not too late. You owe it to her to get her in line. It starts right here. Right now." I didn't even give the daughter the respect of making eye contact. I handed that woman her motherhood back and went on my way. I'm hoping that I sparked 1 fire that could turn 2 lives around. Oh and I decided on the vanilla-walnut icing as well. What a day. Jessica in Melbourne. 23Jan2009 ------------------------ A Time For Anger Dear Miles, my wife is a wonderful woman but sometimes her temper gets the best of her. She's a very sweet and compassionate person but all of that passion can swiftly be channeled into anger when I screw up. Now, I'm certainly not the perfect guy but I am a good man and I do try to make sure that I do the right thing. I've screwed up a few times in the past and I've apologized for my wrongs but it's like she just doesn't want to let stuff go. She gets very upset and doesn't want me to even touch her for weeks. I'm not saying that she shouldn't get mad about things, I'm just saying that there's no reason to hold on to that anger for so long. She constantly stresses honesty and how she wants me to come and tell her things but why would I want to say anything to her when I know that she's going to take matters over the top? She makes it so difficult to be open with her. Again, I'm not saying that she should take all bad news with a smile or that she shouldn't get mad at all. She's entitled to be upset and anger is a perfectly natural reaction but in time it should fade. After a while, the anger subsides and it's time to deal with the situation. She just stays furious and keeps throwing things back in my face. It's very frustrating and sometimes it can feel as though she's trying to drive me away. My apologies are sincere and I truly want to discuss when things go wrong so that we can work through them and move forward but she's just very slow to let go. I know she loves me and, like I said, she's a wonderful woman but sometimes she's unreachable. I want to tell my wife everything but right now she can't handle everything. Then when she finds out about things later on she blows up at me for not telling her and shows me exactly why I couldn't tell her in the first place. I want to be honest with her but she makes it very difficult. When our next period of peace rolls around I'm going to sit her down and discuss this with her. Wish me luck. Happy new year. Mr. Sassy in Frustration. 4Jan2009 ------------------------ Math Whiz Dear Miles, I recently took a job at an engineering company. I'm just a technical writer but I'm surrounded by brains. These guys can be pretty hardcore when it comes to their love for their micro-processors and networking protocols. I always feel like the biggest moron when these guys start explaining stuff too me. If you can cut through the genious-speak, they actually know some pretty cool valuable stuff and can be very helpful. My theory in life is that I don't have to be a super-brain but as long as I can keep a few on speed-dial then I'll be alright. It's just amazing how some guys can go on and on about sports, politics, or women while my guys could kill 3 hours easily debating how Apple can truly position itself to overthrow the PC. The company posts a news and information bulletin above the urinals in the restrooms for our reading pleasure. The bulletins usually contain seasonal dos and don'ts, safety tips, and general worldly advice. When I go to restrooms in bars or clubs, I can usually find all sorts of obscenities and tips on who to call for a good time scribbled on their dirty walls. On my job, the restroom info bulletins are usually defaced with intricate proofs on why the articles are wrong, equations on ways to improve and optimize anything, and scoffs at the absurdity of the friendly suggestions. Just the thought of some brain leaning forward while whizzing to pencil in why you really shouldn't switch over to energy-efficient light bulbs just makes my head spin. Shake, zip, and go, sport. But I guess it takes all types to make up this big world of ours. Happy New Year, Miles. B.J. on the Brainfarm. 5Jan2009 ------------------------ Resolutions Miles, last year I made a resolution to spend more time working on myself and so after a year of reflection and self-examination I've learned a crap-load of cheesy cliches and come to one very real conclusion. The problem isn't me; it's everyone else. So screw the resolutions this year. Here's what I did to prepare for 2009. First off, I kicked my broke, free-loading boyfriend out of my house because I can do bad all by myself. He thought that he was God's gift to me but I told him that one monkey don't stop the show as I let the door hit him where the good Lord split him. I will survive. My son's been pretty smart-mouthed and sassy lately so I told him to I told him to take the bass out of his voice and get the frowns out of his face when speaking to me or else I'd smack the taste out of his mouth. I told my brother to dump that money-grubbing, whore he was dating because everything that glitters ain't gold. One day he's going to catch fleas if he keeps laying with those dogs who don't have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of. She can flash her boobs, shake her tail-feathers, and sell salt to a snail but not do much else. A man or woman who doesn't work doesn't eat and she damn sure shouldn't get a new necklace every week. He's just thinking with the wrong head again. My best friend has been sulking about her new job since July because she thinks that the grass is always greener and that she can always go somewhere else and make more money. I told her to stop with the poor-mouth, quit her belly-aching, and just be thankful that she has a job. Times are harder then ever all over and some people can't even go to work. We should all be a little more thankful for what we do have. I'm no doctor but I do have a degree in common sense and all it took was just a little bit of that to make the right moves to start changing my life. Hell, even a broken clock is right at least twice a day. Peace. Frankie in Orlando. 29Dec2008 Dear Miles, my oldest child hasn't been bringing home the grades that he should so next year I'm resolving to step up the discipline. He's very intelligent but he doesn't apply himself. He does great on tests however he gets lazy about completing the minor, everyday assignments. Over time these minor things add up. This isn't good because in the real world the people who are diligent enough to handle the minor tasks are the ones who go the farthest. He's got a room full of toys that he loves so I figure I'll start gradually taking stuff away until he starts doing what he needs to do. He may be sitting in an empty room when it's all said and done but that doesn't matter. I've got a responsibility to him and a job to do and next year I'm going to be better at it. Happy New Year. Christian in Windermere. 28Dec2008 Wassup Miles, my resolution for next year? Easy. Pee more. I'm an engineer and sometimes I get so wrapped up my work that I forget to go to the bathroom. I don't know why but for some reason when trying to solve a problem my body turns off all of the signals that tell me that I need to pee. I could be working on something for 5 or 6 hours straight and when its done all of a sudden I get the cues that my bladder is swollen beyond capacity. I'm still young but I figure I'd better start taking care of this now before it leads to any long term problems. And I guess forcing myself to go take a whiz will force me to take more breaks in life too. I'm a pretty focused guy and I know it wouldn't hurt if I learned to step back and let up off of the accelerator every once in a while. I'll bet you didn't think that a resolution to pee more could be such a philosophical endeavor, huh? Be easy, baby. Ken in Orlando. 27Dec2008 ------------------------ Crappy Neighbors Dear Miles, you're a writer so I'm sure you know that sometimes reality can be far stranger than fiction. Case in point: a recent misunderstanding with my new neighbor has developed into a full blown feud. One evening we got into a huge argument and the next morning I walked out to find a small pile of what appeared to be mud on the first step of my pool. After a second quarrel I noticed another small pile the next morning. Upon inspection of the half submerged pile, chills set into my bones when I realized that the substance was not dirt but feces. Yes Miles, my neighbor retaliated against me by sneaking into my backyard at night and placing poop on the first step of my pool. I had no idea whether she (yes, she) smuggled the poop in or if she took a squat. Either way, I was horrified by the sick, sick person who I'd just moved next to. The forty-something year old woman is divorced and lives in one of the bigger houses in our upscale neighborhood. This is not a lie, Miles. I called the cops and they basically told me that I needed more concrete evidence. I pointed at the pile and told them to take a blasted DNA sample but they declined. One of my co-workers is also a writer and he told me that he couldn't have thought up something this screwy in a million years. I have no idea what to do. The situation just seems unreal but sure enough, that psycho crapped on my property twice! I'm afraid to confront her about it because God only knows what else she's capable of. My co-worker, always the jokester, offered the following set of suggestions for my response. They were so good that I decided to send them to you. 5) Store up my household's poo for the next week, place it inside of a big JCPenney's box, put a bow on top of it and place it on my neighbor's doorstep on Christmas morning. 4) Spark another quarrel and videotape the next time she comes to poo again. Then YouTube the poo tape and send links to all of her co-workers and the judge presiding over her child custody hearing. 3) Send her one of those Publishers Clearing House type envelopes but entitle it "America's Greatest Poo Sweepstakes" and tell her that she could be eligible for a 1,000,000 dollar grand prize. 2) Scoop the poo and put in the trunk of her car at night. 1) Do nothing. Don't talk to her. Don't wave to her. Don't even make eye contact when I see her in her yard. Anyone with the stones to sneak in my yard at 4am and take a strategic dump on the first step of your pool is a complete whackadoo and is capable of doing absolutely anything at anytime so don't make things worse! Just be grateful she only pooed. Blake Traser in Winter Park. 18Dec2008 ------------------------ So Many Keys Dear Miles, six years ago I found a jewelry box at my mother's house. The box was given to me while I was in high school and was with me during my first love. During that wonderful time I wrote all sorts of letters and notes and locked them inside of it. Sometime after I graduated I lost the key and decided to stow the box away in hopes that one day I'd be able to retrieve and re-open it. Recently my mother started renovating her house and in the process of cleaning up began to find all sorts of miscellaneous keys scattered about the house. She bundled all of the keys up and gave them to me in hopes that one would fit my jewelry box. The keys came in all sorts of different shapes, colors, and sizes. Some had begun to fray with time while others shined as if freshly pressed and cut. Some had long, ornate handles while others were round and stubby. Some slid cleanly into the lock while others were simply not a good fit. One by one I tried them and while each key seemed to offer more promise then the previous one, none of them opened the box. With every turn my anticipation grew and so every failure hit a little harder. Sometimes I'm tempted to just smash the box but I'd rather not. I just know the right key is floating around somewhere. My mother just started clearing out her attic and she called to tell me that she found even more stray keys so the magical key could be just around the corner. I'll be patient for now. It's just weird to me that I've gone through so many and yet none of them was right. I'm almost ashamed that it's taken me this long. I guess it's just been a small lesson in humility and patience for me. Each time that lock doesn't turn only raises the value of the box's contents and makes finding the key that fits that much more special. Jessica in Orlando. 11Dec2008 ------------------------ Inaugural Opportunities Dear Miles, have you heard about how people are already scalping tickets to Obama's inauguration? Someone told me that they saw some on eBay for about 30 grand. Wow. There's going to be a huge party in the streets of D.C. As a certified, bona fied, petrified, dynamite hustler I HAVE to get in on the action and that's why I'm renting out a small cart and will be roaming amongst the enthusiasts for change with homemade Obama Fish Dinners. Understand this, my friend, there will be people everywhere flush with spending money and they will be starving. I sold Obama t-shirts, socks, and toilet paper during the election for people who wanted to look, walk, and wipe like the Senator but this time around I'm going for the gusto. My sign will say "homemade" but really the only thing done at home will be the opening of the frozen fish fillet boxes! A buddy of mine is a welder and I'm thinking of paying him a few bucks to make me a stamp with Obama's face on it. I'll stamp 1 out of every 3 fish fillet and charge people 3 times the regular price for the "Collector's Fillet". And regular price will be 4 times what folks would normally pay for a fish dinner! My Obama Fish Dinners will come with salty fries but no ketchup. That'll be extra along with the a 5 dollar cup of cole slaw. Napkins, of course, will be extra. Since space will be tight and I will undoubtedly run out of supplies, I've devised a fillet cannon system that will launch pre-packaged and heated bundles of fish patties from my nearby van to where ever I am. This state-of-the-art, GPS guided, fish propulsion system will allow me to keep hungry freedom and fish lovers happy without sacrificing my prime vendor real estate. It's all about supply and demand, my friend. It'll be a momentous day for America and while the people clamour to soak up as much history as possible I'll be there to hand them iron-branded fish and cole slaw. And what better way to celebrate pride in land and country then partaking in a delicious fish dinner? It'll be pricy but that's just a small price to pay for freedom. My motto: "If you aren't having an Obama Fish Dinner then you must hate America." Jackpot! Slim Salem in Cashville. 3Dec2008 ------------------------ Black Friday 2 Miles, I've never been to Afghanistan or IED Alley but this morning I feel like I'm prepared for anything. I'm sending you this message from my mobile. It's 4:43am and I'm standing outside of Best Buy. It's windy, it's cold, and things are getting kind of scary out here. The line started forming outside of the store around 11pm last night. I arrived and was sure I'd only see die-hard video gamers out here looking for the newest Playstation releases or soccer dads looking for new 52 inch wallscreens but I saw all types. There are some hardcore women who had their husbands circling the block in minivans every 45 minutes to bring them fresh supplies of coffee, Kleenex, and pre-warmed blankets. There was a quintet of older black women huddled up next to each other singing old Negro spirituals to stay warm and pass the time. An 83 year old man almost got into a fist fight because he caught a younger fellow attempting to cut in line. The old man cursed the young lad's lazy generation for ruining social security and vowed that he would buy a new DVD player just to clobber the kid with. Around 3am some jokerster rode by and yelled out that the store only had 25 jumbo plasma screens available in stock. Grumbling and a wave of panic began to sweep through the line. As if tensions weren't already bad enough for the poor souls in the front of the line, they got worse when the store manager stepped out at around 4:15 and boldly announced that the first 20 people through the doors would received free signed copies of the new Guns and Roses album. Shortly there after a few shadowy MILFs dressed in black started creeping towards the front of the line. They went largely unnoticed but I watch a lot of navy seal documentaries on the military channel so I immediately recognized the tactics. One of the local news affiliates is here laughing at us on live television and sipping steaming, fresh-brewed lattes in our faces. The chipper little reporter will probably get stabbed the minute she stops broadcasting. It's not a game out here. These people have come for deals and savings. And with times as hard as they've been in quite some time, these people WILL save on something. Their causes are self-justifying and their creed is simple: "Saving is no longer a privilege. It is now a right. We the people, in order to further the pursuit of love, life, and happiness, have the right to save and may God's endless mercy shine down on those who stand in our way." Shopper Dan in Waterford. 27Nov2008 ------------------------ A Clean Break Dear Miles, I've gotten myself into quite a sticky situation. Me and my ex-girlfriend were on and off for about 3 years before we finally decided to call it quits. Unfortunately, we only quit each other for a period of about 2 weeks and then we were back to our old habits. I know she's not the girl I want to marry but she's soooo incredibly gorgeous that I can't seem to just let her ago. I've attached a picture for your viewing pleasure. What's worse now is that she's seeing someone else but still dropping by every once in a while to see me. I didn't really care at first because she wasn't my girl and it was kinda like getting to drive a Porsche around without having to make any payments on it but now I think my conscious is kicking in. First of all, just the thought of getting sloppy seconds is starting to bother me. She used to be my girl and now I've been reduced to only having her when he's gone and it's convenient for her? Not a good look for me. She's a jaw-dropper but she's not an exclusive jaw-dropper anymore. The fact that she's cool with running to him right after finishing with me is kinda sickening. Secondly, there's karma to think about. I've done some pretty bad stuff in my time and I know I'll pay the price for it all one day. I'm prepared for that. In the meantime I'm trying to clean up my act and start doing the right thing more often. Her boyfriend probably thinks that he's got a good girl and she can do whatever she wants to him but I can't have any part of it anymore. The next girl I met is gonna be pretty special to me and I don't want karma sending me a girl who will do to me what she did to him. So with all this stuff swirling around in my head, I think I'm going to have to go to war with my libido. I have to push her out of my life completely because I already know that she's not right for me. Pray for me, homie. Pleeeease pray for me. I've got a thousand pictures of her on my phone that she's given me and each one is just ridiculous. I love to show her off to my friends! So I know that the only way I'll be able to do this is if I delete her number, all of her pics, links to her webpage, the whole nine yards! I'll explain it all to her and why before I do it. I know it sounds extreme but these are desperate times. You see the pic. You understand my situation! If we keep this up she could wind up pregnant! I've alredy got a son from a woman that I don't get along with and so for me to go and do it all over again is just stupid. Like I said, pray for me man. The decisions that are best for us are always the hardest ones to make.... and follow through with. Raphael near Goldenrod. 24Nov2008 ------------------------ Venus and Mars Hey Miles, I bring you greetings from sector 47c district 11 of the red planet, my brother. Can you believe after centuries of evolution that men and women are still from different worlds? You'd think that we would have gotten it all together by now but noooo. We're all just as confused as ever. Since Mars is clearly more primitive and raw, it's difficult to get those silky skinned Venusians to come over. A few will venture over every once and a while proving that the journey is indeed both possible and tolerable but they represent a minority of Venusians who were just natural born adapters or adventurous explorers. The rest stay on their homeworld determined to figure out how to pull us Martians over to them. I consider myself a pretty frequent inter-planetary flyer and whenever I hop in the ol' Chevrolet Sun Cruiser S1040 and visit Venus I'm always pleased and amused to see fellow red planeteers over there trying to adapt. Most of those poor souls are just miserable on foreign soil and neither them nor their gracious hosts have fully come to realize that we just do not inherently speak the same languages. Both sides are over there just shouting at each other in their own tongues! But at least they're there trying to learn the language. Every few years or so I fly over and teach Martian development courses at several different universities. While Venusian languages and cultures are significantly more complex (maybe even to a fault) then almost all Martian dialects, most Venusians still want to communicate with Martians. Sadly, many are just not prepared to take on the dumbed-down/simplified lexicon, opting instead to continue speaking and listening in their native Venusian when attempting to co-exist with Martians. I try to encourage Venusian enrollment in my courses and others like them. Both Martians and Venusians fundamentally want to share their cultures to their galactic neighbors but Venusians seem to have a greater desire to do so and thus inter-planetary communication and education typically begins on Venusian soil. Registration totals in these types of courses on both planets are far below what they should be and until we start to see spikes in those numbers then we'll always be worlds apart. One thing is certain, Venusians and Martians who can speak fluently on both worlds have a distinct advantage over those who cannot and tend to be happier in their associations because they understand what makes the cultures tick. On the whole, I think that Venus is a pretty nice place but I'd prefer to have a summer home there as opposed to staying there 24/687. Some areas are pleasant, some are inspiring, some are breath-taking, some are annoying, some are unnecessary, and some areas I wouldn't dare venture into without an escort. It's very refreshing and different from Mars however there's no place like home and so I'll probably always just be a visitor there. Peace to you, brother. And kudos to the undefeated District 11 Fightin' AstroKnights! Go Knights! Verimontes in 47c11. 23Nov2008 ------------------------ Home Again Dear Miles, almost 8 years ago I left home as a boy. I ventured out with into the unknown with a short term plan but no real idea of where I was going nor of where I wanted to be. During my journey I learned and saw much of what worked and what didn't work both for myself and others in the world. I kept those notes close to me and in time they became my guide. Every so often I'd look back and notice that my steps had grown longer. I was moving at a comfortable pace however I was covering more ground with every passing year. They were no longer the strides of a boy but the foot falls of an adult. My journey has taken me to wonderful places but I've finally decided that its time to return home. While every step was not guided nor perfect the summation of them all has lead me down a path that I never knew I'd love and they've somehow twisted and turned so that I could return home as a man. June in Orlando. 21Nov2008 ------------------------ The Tiffany Spell Hiya Miles, how are you this holiday season? I'm faaabulous. Why? Because nothing brightens up the holidays like a new little blue box waiting for me when I get home and lately I seem to be swimming in them. I finally had to put my foot down with my boyfriend and tell him about what it takes to keep a girl like me happy. Little blue boxes and plenty of them! Yes! He's no rocket scientist but he is a typical guy and so he's smart enough to know that if I'm happy he'll be very happy. I wouldn't say that I'm high maintenance, Miles, but I do deserve certain things in life. I should be accommodated. I've never loved a poor man and never intend to. Why should I limit myself? Why should I settle? I don't have a job right now but whenever I do work I work hard. I keep myself slim, sexy, and sassy (my 3 S's of Success!) so why shouldn't I expect to be spoiled? He knows what he's got and he knows not to let me walk away. So he better keep walking over to my favorite shop and buying me the things that last forever! I used to complain and nag him to death but I got bored with that and wanted something less involved. So I started cutting him off! No blue boxes, bub? Well, no lovin' for you. See, it's simple! If mama doesn't get what she likes then papi no get what he likie. lol. Brilliant! Anyhoo, I'm meeting the girls for lunch and want to make them all jealous of my shiny new gift so I'd better go. I hope your girl's holiday will be as bright as mine! Tiff Tiff in Orlando. 16Nov2008 ------------------------ Anything Is Possible Miles, all I could say when they announced our new president was wow. As a young man growing up in the deep south I was taught that I could grow up to be anything but it certainly didn't appear that way. I'd heard and read about how all men are created equal but I never saw anything like that. I was never really shown endless possibilities and so seeing someone who looked like me ascend to the highest executive office seemed unreal. I watched the election coverage with my six year old son by my side and when Barack won I was overjoyed. Every parent should want their child to have the things that they never could have and my son now had the proof that anything was possible. I know that dreams can be taught and that hope can be stored for things unknown but there is probably no greater motivator than seeing with your own eyes. There are no more excuses. Anything is possible here. You can see it for yourself. Willie P. from San Antonio. 5Nov2008 ------------------------ Trick and Treat Tips Hey Miles, you ready for Halloween? It's a crazy world out there and trick or treating sure isn't what it used to be. Fret not though because I've put together a few suggestions to help make your October 31st a little more enjoyable. 1) Cut costs on candy by raiding the stockrooms of out-of-business stores. With all the foreclosures and businesses going under, there's sure to be lots of leftover candy inventory still inside. A simple crowbar and a good pair of sneakers should get you all the treats you'll need for the night. 2) Want to spook some soon-to-be retirees in your neighborhood? Copy the stocks section from your local newspaper and tape it to their windshields. When they see how much their 401ks are worth all you'll have to do is listen for the screams. 3) When a group of trick or treaters come to your door, give the skinny kids candy bars and give the fat kids gym membership coupons. Then when the chaperoning mom lifts her finger to give you a stern lecture, laugh and slam the door in their faces. 4) When teenagers come to your door who didn't take the time to put on a costume and who probably spend more time playing Rock Band then actually being in school, smile and fill their candy bags with job application forms. 5) Go to a local Halloween party and marvel at how every girl's costume will be some variation on the slutty nurse, slutty schoolgirl, or slutty dominatrix theme. 6) Instead of Skittles, bring a bowl of multi-colored Cialis tablets to the party. 7) Take an online business administration course, go become the CEO of a large publicly traded company, run it into the ground, accept a multi-million dollar severance package, and then buy a round of beers for all of your buddies. Have a ball, man. Alton in Cocoa Booooch. 25Oct2008 ------------------------ Just Numbers Dear Miles, my birthday is coming up and for probably the third year in a row I've decided that I'm going to stay 26 years old. If it's true that it's not how old you are but rather how old you feel then I'll keep on feeling and living like I'm in my mid-twenties. Why not? I find myself celebrating my birthday less and less every year. Actually, that's a lie because I seem to do more and more for myself as the Octobers roll in. But the celebrations are becoming less about the milestones and more about honoring the day as a starting point. Why be one of the schllions who see birthdays as just another step closer to the end? Why would I want to waste the most beautiful month of the year mired in depression about an event that I cannot control? No, thanks. I'm having a ball and I think I'll keep having a ball. I figure that I'll stay 26 for a bit longer, then spend some time in my 27s, and after a while my true age will be a mystery even to myself. Of course I'll see my birth year on documents from time to time but I'll conveniently forget to do the math and whenever I do the number will always magically end up being in the high twenties. I'll worry about getting old when I feel like getting old. Dig? Lauren near Fashion Square. 23Oct2008 ------------------------ The Name Game Wassup Miles, here's a prime example of why it's always better to just be honest up front. Last night I was at quasi-formal charity event with my family. The evening was pretty dull until my name was called by a lovely woman approaching me. I'm pretty tall and with her heels on she was right at eye level. Her sharp red and white dotted dress hugged her slim frame and dangled just above her knees. Her smile was gorgeous and brighter then anything I'd seen in some time and as she hugged me I found myself smiling uncontrollably in return. Obviously we'd met before and I did remember her however I could not recall her name to save my life. As she spoke, her tone and smile started to bring back memories and I remembered every detail of us hanging out before except for the one thing that probably mattered most: her name. The sad part was that everyone at the event had on name tag stickers but by some cruel twist of cosmic fate hers had managed to foolishly separate itself from her chest. Two minutes into our conversation I looked down at her small red purse and saw the aforementioned name tag sticking slightly out and curled up just tightly enough for me not to be able to read its text. I knew I should've confessed immediately that I couldn't recall her name but the more I watched her beautiful lips move the dumber I felt for not remembering. She was really something, Miles. Fifteen minutes passed in seconds and it dawned on me that I had passed the point of no return to ask her the question that was slowly killing me inside. We had been slowly walking and talking and before I realized it we had wandered over to where my family was. I could feel my core temperature rising in anticipation of the inevitable introductions. In my rising state of internal panic I began concocting schemes of how I could slyly retrieve the name tag from her purse. But time was passing too quickly I didn't have any moves that even remotely resembled those of my favorite British secret agent. The simultaneous climax and depression of my evening came when I failed to spontaneously think up a slick introduction that would've allowed me to leave out her name. Instead, I introduced my mother, father, and grandmother and then pretty much just awkwardly paused in the breath space that was supposed to be for her name. My grandmother didn't help matters out much when she remarked "well, doesn't this lovely girl have a name, son?" I don't think I'd ever seen such a wonderful smile fade so quickly, Miles. The moral of my sad but hopefully funny in ten years story is that honesty always pays but it pays even more when it's applied early. I should've did what needed to be done when it needed to be done. It would've been embarrassing but at least I would've been able to recover. I could've saved the evening, I could've saved myself three months of ridicule from my father, I could've saved her, I could've saved us, and, yes, I quite possibly could've saved the world if I'd only been honest when it really counted. Hope your weekend fares better then mine started. Dwight in a less then sunny Orlando. 10Oct2008 ------------------------ The Familiarity Campaign Dear Miles, I'm an African American who has been watching the presidential race pretty closely and while I think it would be wonderful to have a black president it would be wrong for me to cast a vote for him based solely on race. When I talk to other African Americans in my community they are ecstatic to have someone of color as a serious contender. I ask them would they vote for him if he was in favor of murdering puppies and cancelling social security and while most say no I'm sad to report that some reply with "well, at least he's black." On one hand, I understand the struggle, especially for the older African Americans who have lived through segregation, Jim Crow, and the Civil Rights Movement, but if a man isn't judged based on his platform, his merits, and what he stands for then we're no different then those who oppressed us for centuries. All they saw was color and now are we to do the same thing? We should be careful about these sorts of things because it could always come back to haunt us and that day may come sooner then later. McCain just chose his running mate, a relative unknown from the last frontier of continental expansion. The fact that she miraculously leap frogged over all of his prime contenders reinforces to me that it's all a game. What a sad but brilliant strategical move. Now is when the "he looks like me" mentality could hurt us instead of help us. If women adopt that same mentality then things could get ugly for the all-male democratic ticket. The worse part is that she doesn't seem to embrace the values that all of the swinging Hillary supporters cherish but she may get their votes anyway because she's a woman. And heaven help this struggling nation if she's a dynamic speaker because sometimes all it takes to make someone push their needs to the wayside is a powerful message. Can you see how this is all wrong? The republican convention hasn't even gotten underway and I'm already starting to hear reports of female democrats jumping ship for all of the wrong reasons. I'm worried, Miles. I'm very worried. For all of the progress and for all of the advancement that our society has made, I'm afraid that old nasty habits haven't died yet. And maybe we're not as far along as everyone would like to believe. Ressa in Lake Mary. 30Aug2008 ------------------------ The Right To Fire State Dear Miles, ever hit one of those lulls in work where there was just nothing to do but you couldn't go home? Lately, I'm finding myself in that situation more often then not. Maybe management is slowly decreasing my work load in preparation to fire me. Or maybe they want me to quit due to sheer boredom. That could be the case. I think they don't have to offer me a severance package if I quit so they figure they'll bore me into unemployment. Well, that definitely will not be happening. They simply do not realize that I'm fully prepared to come in and do nothing for 8 to 10 hours if I have to. I'm committed. The bad news is that I've already cleaned every inch of my desk, fixed the squeak in my chair, and re-arranged all of my highlighter pens by height, manufacturer, and tip-thickness so I'm going to have to find something to do to keep myself focused on not quitting. I think tomorrow I'll bring in some grease and lube up my desk drawers and keyboard trays. My supply drawer isn't opening as quickly as it used to and so I'm not accessing paperclips and stapler refills at the rate I once was. I'm missing a few dry-erase markers from my Jungle-Draw 32 marker set. I loaned out Lioness Orange and Wilderbeast Blue last week to co-workers so it looks like I'm going to have to crack a few skulls to get them back. The air conditioning duct above my desk hums a little too loudly sometimes so I think I'll shimmy up one of the maintenance ladders and see if I can redirect some of the excess air flow. I was also contemplating knitting a throw rug for my office floor so I guess I can bring in a few spools of yarn to get that going. That could probably get me through Thanksgiving. So I guess I've got some stuff to keep me busy on the job. Hopefully, I'll be able to outlast management. Anyhoo, I just figured I'd send you a letter. Love your column and since I'll have all sorts of company sponsored time to read and dissect it you can look forward to many more letters from me. Take care. Ingrid in Maitland. ------------------------ Casey, Casey Dear Miles, have you been keeping up with the Casey Anthony case? What a circus. That girl is a wreck and that poor child was nothing more then collateral damage. Pardon my premature usage of the term "was" but right now it seems as though that cute little baby is gone forever. The family is questionable, the mother can't seem to get her lies straight, and the drama just keeps on coming. What's the deal with this girl? Is she a bad mother? Is she some kind of sociopath? Or is she just a girl who was never supposed to have a child? It might sound bad but I'll be real with you, Miles, not everyone on God's green earth is supposed to produce offspring. Some people are too mired in their own crap or too over-burdened with their own demons to care for a child. I'm not saying that I'm a perfect mother or that any of us has all of the answers when a newborn comes into our lives but basic things like responsibility, accountability, unselfishness, and compassion are all unspoken prerequisites. When I think about all of the other potential Casey's out there my heart saddens. It's not the kid's fault that mommy or daddy was a screw up but you'd better believe that they'll pay the price for it. Again, no parent is perfect, but where are the basics? Where are the fundamentals? How do people get thrown so far off course? It had to have started with her and her parents right? But that's an analysis for another day... maybe. I say maybe because soon our attention spans will wander on to the next circus and this will be but another pebble in the river of our society. Sorry to hit you with a letter full of questions. I know you're usually a solution-oriented person but sometimes it seems as though I can't do anything else but wonder. Miko in Winter Park. 28Aug2006 Howdy Miles, just figured I'd chime on the whole Casey/Caylee Anthony situation brewing. That girl is a plum mess and it's a crying shame that that poor little baby has to pay the price. All the facts aren't out yet but it doesn't look good. Did you hear that some folks are staging a "rally" outside of the Anthony home? Yessiree. Personally, I'm tired of this being dragged out on the television and that girl lying and not looking for her baby. And I'm not the only one who feels like that so what we're gonna do is head over there and raise ourselves one fine rucus. Nothing speeds justice like a mob. I've been sharpening my pitch fork and I took Tuesday off from work so I'm all ready for a quality mobbin'. You're welcome to come and write an editorial about the whole thing if you like. To be honest, I'm not sure what they hope to accomplish when you stop and consider that a large group of revolting people really have no bearing on this sort of thing but something needs to be done nonetheless! And nonetheless is what we will do! It'll be torch-carrying, picket-lining, disgruntledness at it's finest! Lester in Orlando. 28Aug2006 ------------------------ Run Man Miles, when I run, I run for myself and no one else. I run because I need the therapy. I run because I need the air. I run because I need the discipline. When I tell you I'm going to run it's not because I seek accolade or applause. It's not because I want to feel superior. It's not because I need to feel better about my decisions. I tell you that I'm going to run so that you will not worry when you turn around and I'm gone. I don't expect your life to change. I don't expect you to run with me. By the time you come around to figuring that you'd probably like to potentially run with me I'll already be back. I don't run because I'm a runner. I don't run because I love to run. I run because I'm a man of my word. I run because I told myself that I would run. I run because there are many other races in life that I'll need to run and if I can run right now then running later will be easier. I run because the world needs more runners. I run because I told myself that I would run. Shane Street. 10Aug2006 ------------------------ Shower Therapy Dear Miles, I spent a few nights at a high end hotel last week and enjoyed every minute of my stay right up until shower time. The fancy adjustable shower heads seem to be all the rage these days and this particular hotel, desiring the coveted title of most luxurious, had some sort of ultra-configurable showerheads installed in its bathroom. There seemed to be upwards of 20 different ways to adjust the water pressure and stream. When I first turned it on the showerhead dial was set to spray a "gentle stream". This was perfectly fine but I figured that there was no point in having all of those lovely features if no one was willing to try them. As I tried to adjust the dial the release mechanism slipped, the nozzle clicked about 10 times, and the water suddenly stopped. I moved closer to the showerhead in order to see what setting it had slipped to but before I could decipher that the little dial symbol meant "death ray" the pressure had built and a single, focused stream of water exploded forth. The blast caught me right in the forehead and propelled me back against the tiled rear wall of the shower. The water was like a laser beam and as it bored its way into my skin I could do nothing but writhe and scream like a scared school girl. I desperately tried to shield myself from the onslaught by blocking the water with my hand but the high intensity stream felt like a nail driving its way through my palm. The configurable showerhead blasted and whistled at a frequency that mirrored my yelping so I doubt anyone who might've happened to pass would've heard my pleas for help. I could slowly feel the pain robbing me of consciousness and so I lunged for the shower curtain, grabbed it, and held it up to the stream. The luxurious blend of mildew resistant synthetic fibers all but disintegrated under the pressure and I was left exposed once again. I stumbled out of the tub and fell to the floor crying and spilling water everywhere. That night the life of luxury almost cost me my very life and as I lay curled up naked around the toilet in a pool of purified shower water I vowed never to indulge again. Hampton from Dumfries. 7Aug2008 ------------------------ Forgiving Without Forgetting Hi Miles, Have you ever been someone's lifeline? Ever pulled someone out of a bad situation they never should've been in in the first place? Would you have the strength to do it if that person had hurt you on their way into trouble? Could you do it twice? How about if you were called to be a lifeline three times? Or five? How many times should a soul be saved? Questions, questions. One more. Should you forgive that person of their wrongs and forget what they've done? Yes and no. Miles, I think a wrong-doer must be forgiven for the sake of your own progress if for nothing else. Living with anger or bitterness towards someone for how they treated you is a dangerous thing. For reasons that science can't quite identify yet, ill will slowly eats at a person. So the general consensus among both the scientific and the spiritual community is to forgive and relieve yourself of the burdensome emotions. There is, however, some disagreement when it comes to forgetting. I believe that those who forget history are doomed to repeat it. If you stick your hand in a hole in the ground and get bitten by a snake are you simply going to forget about the snake, return the next day, and stick your hand in there again? How many times would you have to get bitten before you realize that that particular hole probably isn't a good place for your hand? Why shouldn't the same rule apply to people? Contrary to popular belief, it's very possible to remember what someone has done and still completely forgive that person. Choosing not to forget does not have to equate to harboring bitterness or resentment. Why can't it just be common sense? If the Jews can forgive the German state for it's atrocities of the mid-twentieth century then does that mean that they should also simply forget what happened? How else will they be able to prevent that from happening again if they do not use past events as a learning guide? I've been a lifeline and I've been a lifeline for people who have wronged me. But if that snake keeps biting my hand then I won't keep putting my hand in that hole. I believe in loving and truly forgiving a person for striking me but I'd be a fool to forget. Brandon in Orlando. 26Jul2008 ------------------------ Her Own Little Matrix Dear Miles, I sometimes call her Morpheus because, whether she knows it or not, she's waiting for "the one." When I first met her and began to hear her tell her tales of the friendships that would rise and fall I would wonder why none of them flew any higher then mere acquaintances. She rarely lacked something to do and someone to do it with however every so often I would find her as low as someone with nothing or no one at all. She had quite a few suitors on her roster and I was surprised to hear that she actually considered some of them to be worth her while. But when questioned about why there was no progression she would simply shrug her shoulders and cite that they chose not to progress. She was a good girl, maybe too good a girl, but for whatever reason they didn't feel a desire to fly any higher and she didn't ever ask them too. I think the latter part of that last statement is what really puzzled me the most. She seemed to be quite the anomaly because even though progression had stopped with all of them there was still potential for progress with some of them and yet she opted not to push for it. I knew that she was a progressive person and so I figured that her relaxed stance was a danger to her own happiness. We constantly bickered because she believed that if they wanted progress they would push for it and I believed that if she wanted progress she would never find it in silence. Then one rainy evening I realized that she was waiting for the one... and that's when she became Morpheus. She wasn't consciously waiting around for a soul mate but rather someone who could make her deviate from her norm. She had somehow managed to work her way into a frustrating but comfy groove of seeing many different acquaintances and never feeling tremendously attached to any of them. They were all on the same level and they all received only a nominal slice of her true affection. Whenever I asked her why she couldn't just give more to the one who deserved it most she replied that it was because no one wanted more. In essence, her position was that if no one asked for more then no one would get more. They were the sole determinants of the amount of love that they received. I didn't believe that at all. Sooner or later someone will come along that will make her want to push for progress. That type of person, in whatever form they take, sends standard operating procedure out of the window. When someone really special enters her circle, she will subconsciously separate him from the rest. It happens automatically. Someone different and wonderful will materialize and because she loves his style or his ways or his this or his that she will put him in a category apart from the rest of her acquaintances regardless of whether he wants to be there or not. It just happens. That's what "the one" will do for her. He'll make her want him to be separate from the rest. Samuel the singer. 25Jul2008 ------------------------ Explosive Cheating Dear Miles, not too long ago I read your second article on infidelity. Very interesting. Cheating is cheating no matter how you try to psycho-analyze it but it was intriguing to hear a man's take on the subject. I've asked some of my guy friends about it and the general concensus seems to be that when a man cheats it's usually just because men are greedy and want to get their jollies. They were quick to point out that it's usually just physical attraction. They also told me that because most women tie emotion in so tightly with sex that when a women decides to cheat it's probably much worse. In other words, she's invested more of herself into the forbidden relationship. I guess that would explain why a lot of women can take men back after being cheated on. Somewhere in their minds they figure that the other woman only had his body and not his heart and this somehow maintains their position of superiority. I say "they" because while I can understand the reasoning (and agree with it somewhat), I refuse to subscribe to it. If my man cheats, he's done. Period. There is no reasoning, no explanations necessary, no justification. I work hard to keep him happy and comfortable and should he decide to stray then he'd better make sure his side woman has a spare toothbrush and room in her closet for all of his stuff because it'll be in a box outside of her door. I've also heard a few accounts of guys cheating on their significant others in the very same bed that she lays in. I found this simply unbelievable. May heaven help the poor soul who decides to bring another woman into my bed. I've gone above and beyond taking simple gun handling classes: I'm a certified demolitions expert. I've made it quite clear to my man that I'm licenced to carry and detonate military grade explosives. C4, small mortars, you name it. I told him that if I ever catch him doing the unthinkable that he won't even hear the first boom. Love your column, Miles. It's the bomb. Pardon the pun. Maria in St. Cloud. 14Jul2008 ------------------------ Saint Mike Dear Miles, I recently took my girlfriend to a gospel showcase at one of the large assembly halls in my area. I was reluctant to go because while I had hoped that it would be a concert type of atmosphere showcasing different musicians and choirs I figured it would be more of a knock-down drag-out, praise-or-burn, Holy ghost hunting super-ultra-megafest type spectacle. I was right. Shortly after the first interlude I grew weary of showmen in flashy suits feeding spiritual highs to the ticket purchasing masses. I told my girlfriend that I was going to take a walk and after she snapped on me for interrupting her praise session I quietly left. The church had a beautiful grand lobby with speakers that filled the room with the music from the sanctuary and as I walked I noticed a lone usher standing at his post bobbing his head. I didn't catch his real name but he told me that the kids in his neighborhood call him Uncle Mike. He was a trucker who had volunteered to help out the event and since all of the other ushers had taken seats inside I grabbed a chair and decided to keep the lone sentinel company. As I sat and spoke with him he told me a few of his life's stories. His big, burly laugh filled the lobby as he reminisced on his younger days of womanizing and knuckle-headedness. He told about his time in jail and about how when no one else was there he realized that God was still with him. After becoming saved he said that he didn't feel a need to flip a switch and become a Holier-then-thou evangelist. He was still the same guy he always was only now he held himself more accountable for his actions and he understood that he had a supporter much greater then himself. He was always in and out of town but he said that whenever he was here he would attend meetings for a small fatherhood support group that he helped established. He would fix broken bikes for kids in his community and demand to see their report cards as payment. A lot of the boys didn't have reliable male figures in their lives and so Mike took it upon himself to challenge them to do better in school and be better young men. I've seen quite a few questionable characters in my time and on some level I guess it makes people feel better about themselves and their lives when they can throw on a facade of spiritual invincibility or superiority. Mike wasn't one of those types. He was a simple and humble faith-filled man. He struck me as real person who was genuinely appreciative of the blessings he had received in his life and, most importantly, was doing his part to spread the lessons he'd learned on how to be a better man. Sometimes it feels like people just want to jump straight to sainthood before they've even learned how to be good people. I guess being a regular person sucks and we just need to feel higher from time to time. The market for spiritual highs is quite lucrative and there are always salesmen willing to move product at whatever the cost so when I come across genuine good people it's like a breathe of fresh air. Uncle Mike's gospel was simple: be thankful, be helpful, be accountable. It's simplicity was most likely it's greatest adversary. Before I knew it, 90 minutes had passed and the showcase was almost over. When I got back to my seat my girlfriend told me how much she was enjoying herself. I smiled and was glad that she was having a good time but in my humble opinion the realest words spoken that evening were right outside the sanctuary doors. Franklin on Calvary. 5Jul2008 ------------------------ The Pick Me Up Dear Miles, in a society desperate for time no one wants to waste a minute. There is simply too much going on to miss out on anything and when folks are tired or drowsy they're missing precious opportunities. The next time you're run down or getting dangerously low on energy, don't reach for the short buzz of some caffeine and sugar loaded energy drink. Try something new. Try Punch-In-The-Face. Yes Miles, you read correctly. You see our lab studies show that time and time again nothing rejuvenates a weary worker or student like a fresh Punch-In-The-Face. Our success results are through the roof. Nothing is proven to pick people up faster and get them going about their day better. Punch-In-The-Face works, Miles. So the next time you hear someone griping about how tired they are or how they can't seem to make it without their cup of java or their favorite energy drink, help them out. Give them a Punch-In-The-Face. Mad Mike in Orlando. 29Jun2008 ------------------------ Learning Curves Dear Miles, one of my girlfriends is the smartest person I know but she just has horrible luck with men. She's 24 and is contemplating whether or not she wants to begin school for her doctorate. She's organized and has a great job but a she's always struggled with her weight. To be truthful, there is no struggle. She just doesn't really care. I'm pretty faithful about staying in shape so when I go work out I always invite her along but she always turns me down. She's executes academics, her finances, and everything else in her life flawlessly but when it comes to taking care of herself she genuinely is not interested. But what really baffles me is that she just doesn't understand why (good) men don't gravitate towards her. No offense Miles, but most men are simplistic dopes. Seriously. A man is programmed to hunt and he locks in on what pleases his eye. No more, no less. Now there certainly are the intellectuals of the gender who can transcend mere physical attraction and appreciate a woman for her accomplishment and intellect but even 4 out of 5 of those guys will tell you that the catalyst is physical attraction. It's just the way they've been wired for centuries. And even if I was one of these select specimens, why would I opt for a mate who doesn't seem to care about arguably the strongest driving force on the planet: the male libido. I'm not saying that she needs to slim down and try out for America's Next Top Model but she should at least try to do something! Her breast are perky but only because they're held up by her stomach. She's so self-conscious about her figure but she will not do a thing to improve it. That just reads as lazy to me. I could even argue beyond the dopes and just say that she should think about her, her future, and the long term benefits of good exercise habits. The men wouldn't be an issue if she honestly didn't care about finding a partner but she's human and so naturally she wants a husband and kids and the whole nine. She's mastered everything except for what she needs to put her where she truly wants to be in life. When was the last time you heard a guy say "man, that girl just got her degree. That sure does make her hot!" or "Her great job makes her seem sexier!" Seems shallow but then again guys are shallow! Take the most well-rounded, educated, common sensed guy you know and ask him if physical attraction matters to him in choosing a girlfriend. The BEST of guys will say something like "it's not all that matters... but yes." Now a very select few will say no but those guys are so few and far inbetween that it's almost pointless to seek them out. I keep telling her that there are lots of qualified, good guys out here for her who would give her a second look if she just put in a little time. I've been with my man for almost 2 years and so when his friends come over for a game I sit and listen to their guy talk. Most of it is adolescent gibberish but I can understand what they want deep down. The sexes are wired differently, Miles. Both sides want different things in a partner. How come we as women demand that a guy invest 110 percent into tending to our emotional needs (the thing that matters most to us) but then when he expects 110 percent investment into his physical happiness (the thing that matters most to young men) we waiver? Does that seem fair? A good guy isn't a whore with his emotional availability. He doesn't make himself emotionally available to any and all females that he meets... even though that would be nice from a female perspective. No. He finds a girl that he likes and THEN he invests his emotions into her. The inverse should be happening with us. I think being around her is when I really started to understand that there are different types of smarts (book smarts, street smarts, even man smarts) and that being a master of one doesn't guarantee of mastery of them all. Some women will collect 3 doctorates or run huge companies and never be able to figure out why only sleezeballs migrate towards them. Even the smartest of men can be so easy to read it's ridiculous becaus e the overwhelming majority of them are all fundamentally the same. Once she stops imposing her thoughts of what a man should want and starts accepting what they actually do want then things will change for her. But this subject is the one thing in her life that doesn't come naturally or easily for her. Calculus doesn't come easy for me but if I want a decent grade in the class then I need to step out of my box and invest a little more time and energy into understanding the subject matter. It's all the same. Danella in Orlando. 28Jun2008 ------------------------ Bum Babies Hey Miles, have you heard about that group of high school girls up north who allegedly made a pact to all get pregnant together? I heard on CNN that one of those poor souls was so desperate to be a part of the movement that she enlisted the reproductive services of a local transient. I was downtown this Saturday and saw that apparently the Orlando homeless guys also have a CNN feed because they were announcing the availability of their seed to any woman that passed. "You look like you want to have my baby!" one would yell. "Hey sweetie! I'll only charge you half price. C'mon!" It was simply hilarious to see these bums trying to pimp themselves out. "You know you want this, lovin! You look like you're ready for a kid!" They were in rare form. One of them even had a sign that said: "Will make babies for food." It was the best night out I had had in a while. Kyle in Orlando. 23Jun2008 ------------------------ The Red Planet Scenario Ready Miles? So we discover that there is ice on Mars which means that one day some day maybe it can support water and, at the very least, support us. So the NASA folks get all aflutter and start creating a new buzz about how Mars is the next great frontier. The president signs on, then congress, then the mystified but curious general populous and voila we have a new objective and the space program has its hundreds of billions of dollars. So the robo-probes go out, then the manned ones, then the heavy equipment, and before we know it we're tunneling deep below the surface and discovering things about our red neighbor that we never knew. One fine Martian day, the suited frontiersmen and women stumble upon a set a set of fossils that look a little too geometric to be natural. Further digging, research, and a teaspoon of common sense reveals that the fossils are the remains of an ancient civilization. But we're not taking ancient as in the Egyptians or the Etruscans. No sir. We're talking ancient as in the 1970s as viewed from 3043 AD. After a while the good folks at NASA and the newly forged mega-international space exploration organization cannot keep a lid on what they've found and word reaches the streets that someones or somethings either as smart as or a lot smarter then us lived on Mars a looong time ago and the new question on everyone's mind is where did they go? So every kind of feather on every kind of person gets ruffled at simply the thought of this and all of the other questions that inevitably creep in. I would go into those issues but quite frankly my computer wouldn't be able to distribute an email of that magnitude to you. So I'll leave you with this last thought: the exploration of the world and/or worlds around us is inevitable. It is not only a mere curiosity that drives the exploration of space but our very destructive and selfish natures. If Jesus doesn't come back to sweep us all away we will eventually over-populate this planet and/or destroy all or a large part of it with greed and ultimately pointless bickering. To believe that with hundreds upon thousands upon millions upon billions of planets out there that ours is the only saga of life and evolution is ridiculously self-centered. I believe that mentality existed 500 years ago when folks thought that the sun revolved around the earth and that if you sailed your sailboat out far enough into the sea you could eventually find yourself plummeting into a vast abyss of nothingness that is the horizon. The chances are pretty good that someone else has run the race that we're running and the chronicles of their journey could be closer then you think. You spooked yet? Don't sweat it. By the time you go out tonight and have yourself a delicious desert at your local Coldstone this won't even be on your mind anymore. Jim from Planet Jim. 11Jun2008 ------------------------ Pesky Blue Hairs Dear Miles, the apartment complex I live in was nice years ago when I first moved in but recently there’s been a noticeable increase in the number of senior citizen residents and quite frankly it’s becoming somewhat disturbing. I love blue hairs as much as the next man but all they do is hang out on their front porches and watch grass grow. They stare at me as I’m driving to work in the morning from their outdoor easy chairs. And when I come home I see the exact same people in the exact same chairs but by late afternoon they’ve somehow attracted three or four more of their retired friends. I feel like I’m being surrounded by white shoes, long socks, short shorts, and over-starched cotton shirts as I drive home. They give me the meanest looks too. As if every minute that I’m not on my knees thanking them for their service to this country is agonizing to them! I’m starting to feel uncomfortable walking my dog because I’m afraid that I’m going to get a wrinkled fist shaken at me. They’ve driven a lot of the other young people out of the neighborhood but I refuse to leave. I'd hate to have to go to war with people who are ready for bed by the time Wheel of Fortune goes off but I will if I have to. I will not be intimidated. I don’t care if I have to stand alone. If it comes down to me versus someone’s grandpa then I’ll look him right in his prescription sunglass covered eyes and tell him straight: I will not back down, gramps. Chaz in Winter Park. 30May2008 ------------------------ The Food Diary Hey Miles, Happy Memorial Day! You going to the beach? Eating any smoked BBQ? I've got to steer clear of the steers (beef, that is) because I've been trying desperately to shave a few inches for the summer. A friend suggested that I try a food diary. A food diary is a journal or a log of everything that you put in your mouth. From peppermints to a Philly cheese steaks, I've been jotting down everything that I consume. The notion behind it is simple enough: recording your eating habits (in ink!) makes you more accountable. Now you'd think that me seeing all of the little caramelized, salty, and/or over-sugared demons on a page clear as day would deter me from eating more of them. I should be saying to myself "self, look at all of the crap you've been putting into you body!" and at that point resolve to change my ways in a fit of disgust! Sadly, this is just not happen for me, Miles. Instead of my food diary being a stark reminder of how focused I need to be about losing weight, it's become my favorite choice for recreational reading. When I open up it's pages and read about that strawberry sundae that I had last night or the slow roasted, honey-coated nuts that I devoured a few days back it's like taking a trip down fabulous memory lane. There is no remorse, only fond memories of delicious meals and snacks past. My food diary is like my high school yearbook: as I turn through its pages I think about all of the good times I had with old friends! Please pray for me! Courtney M. in Loch Haven. 25May2008 ------------------------ The Right To Be Here Dear Miles, I was reading last week's article on co-habitation and was thinking to myself that you made a lot of good points about why you shouldn't live with a significant other until marriage. At one point in my life, you would've been preaching to the choir but now I'm in a different space. My girlfriend doesn't live with me but she spends alot of time at my place and quite frankly I wouldn't have it any other way. For the longest time I was definitely apprehensive about the amount of time that she spent in my house for all the reasons that you stated in your article but as our relationship blossomed and I came to know her my fears went away. She wasn't just some girl I was sleeping with, Miles. She had become an integral part of my day and would one day be my wife. Right now she still has her own place but when she stays with me it just feels differently because we're not just dating but moving towards a lifetime together. I'm a lite sleeper and when I wake up it usually takes me a while to go back to sleep. Sometimes in the dead of night I go sit out in the living room because I hate laying awake in bed awake. Every once in a while she wakes up too, wonders where I am, and comes out to join me. Just to see if I'm okay. Just to be next to me. That love is deeper and it deserves to be here with me. Carter in West Orlando. 21May2008 ------------------------ The Lover's Microscope Dear Miles, I just got through reading your article "Lovers and Friends" and I loved it. You brought out a lot of true points but I think I liked it most because I could really relate to the couple you described. A while back I met a guy who seemed to be everything that I wanted in a man. I wasn't really in the market for a relationship but he was really sweet and so naturally my thoughts started turning to everything that could be. A good friendship developed but after the initial high of courtship began to wear off we both realized that we just weren't ready to become an item. I was somewhat conflicted because while my mind had accepted the notion of us not being together my subconscious was still in "he could be the one" mode. As a result of this, whenever he'd do something that annoyed me or wasn't to my liking it would hit me a little harder. I realized that I wasn't holding him to my rules for friendship. I was holding him to my rules for a relationship, which are significantly stricter because they help determine the type of man that I want to spend forever with. This was unfair for the both of us and was creating unnecessary stress. Stress that was never intended to exist in a friendship. After this realization, our friendship became a lot better because he was no longer subjected to what I call "the lover's microscope." Shondra in Oviedo. 7May2008 ------------------------ I'll Fly Away Dear Miles, I don't know how many true soul stirring moments you've had in your lifetime but this morning I had one in a most unexpected place: a funeral. The deceased was a singer who had spent all of her life in my neighborhood. When I arrived at the small church there was standing room only and as I stood against the rear wall and watched the crowd I saw that her beautiful voice and personality had touched a lot of people. As the service progressed, the members of her singing group stood and began a hymn that lit a fire inside of many of her other vocally blessed family members, causing them to rise up in song. The rest of the family soon joined in, followed by the mass choir, and soon the very wall that I was leaning on shook with the harmony of three hundred voices. I looked out and I saw the toughest of young black men from her neighborhood, white senior citizens from the nursing home where she volunteered, and middle-aged West Indians from her job all singing as loudly as their lungs would allow and all in remembrance of one individual. On the very front row sat her weeping mother, overcome with tears of sadness and celebration for her daughter's untimely homegoing. She rose from her seat and walked over to where the group was singing. One of the group members handed the mother a microphone and while another member held her steady she proceeded to lead the entire congregation in song. It was one of the single most unbelievable moments I'd ever experienced. The hardest of hearts would certainly have been softened witnessing the strength in a mother's song to her child. It was all I could do to fight back the tears. The funeral reminded me that regardless of our level of spirituality, our race, or our religion some things are universal and just a part of existing. And it's always a momentous event when all different creeds, beliefs, and walks of life come together in genuine honor and to sing in unison. Amen. Betty Jean in Orlando. 27Apr2008 ------------------------ Adopt-A-Baller Hey Miles, With 24 hour media outlets running rampant and sports news shows and reporters always looking for a fresh sound bite or headline, you can guarantee that where ever professional athletes can be found there is probably a microphone waiting somewhere nearby for them to say something they shouldn't. But it's not as if these circumstances are a revelation. Players should know and expect to be targets. The recent remarks by that Dallas player about the widespread enjoyment of canibus throughout the leagues (coupled with the countless of other head-shaking remarks by countless other ball-players) have shown me that athletes today are more likely then ever to say something stupid. With this in mind I've created a small organization designed to take these professionals under a caring wing. The Adopt-A-Baller Association (AABA) brings a pro baller into the home of a blue-collar worker to live and study for a period of 3 months. The athlete will do various domestic chores in his host's household and follow his host to work for job-shadowing. Imagine, hard working plumbers and mechanics keeping a careful eye on a professional athlete and disciplining them whenever they say or do something they shouldn't. There's nothing like a smacking from a hard working American to remind these superstars not to say and do stupid stuff. Please help us. Salary caps are through the roof but common sense is in the basement. Please sponsor Adopt-A-Baller today. Howard D. in Orlando. 27Apr2008 ------------------------ The Reminders Dear Miles, Just when we forget the very things that shouldn't be forgotten, The Reminders pop up and make them unforgettable yet again. The Reminders could probably care less where we are or how we feel because they have but one job to do. Whenever we get too comfortable in people, places, and ideas that secretly offer no comfort, The Reminders find ways of letting us know. The Reminders have been around a lot longer then we have and their experience has crafted them into masters of intrusion. Slowly, surely, they make their way inside of us to whisper or to yell everything that we probably already know. And they'll say it whether we're listening or not in the early afternoon or in the wee hours of the morning. Just when we thought we could rest here, The Reminders tell us that there is no peace here. And when we thought we could linger and indulge, The Reminders tell us to run miles. Mims. 27Apr2008 ------------------------ Ode To Draft Day Dear Miles, In honor of this weekend's draft day festivities I've had my wife stock up on bratwurst and chips. When the fellas come over I'm planning on having a small opening ceremony before we commence with the partaking of meat and sports. Here's a little something that I'm going to recite before the first hotdog gets bunned. (clearing throat) When prospects start watching their manners: and the media clamors... It's draft time. Healthy contracts get drawn: and stripped suits come on... It's draft time. Fresh press kits for learning: and bluetooths a-burning... It's draft time. Hopeful mothers may tremble: entourages assemble... It's draft time. Skeezers and agents: all patiently waiting... It's draft time. It's draft time. It's draft time. Sammy in Orlando. 24Apr2008 ------------------------ Faith In Family Hi Miles, how are you? I'd like your opinion on something if you don't mind. I was raised in a very religious household. My father was and is an outstanding and very respected member of his church and so growing up, my siblings and I were placed on very high restriction. More so then normal because of his position within the congregation. Well, just like most teenagers who are bound too tightly, when we became of age, we rebelled. So for a very long time I was at odds with my parents because I no longer wanted to conform to their restrictions. For a while my father all but disowned me because he didn't agree with my behavior. I understood his viewpoint and where he was coming from so I kept my distance and tried to remain respectful and cordial. I would've loved to have had a better relationship with him as a man as opposed to him as a prominent, upstanding church member but he never presented that side of himself to me. I guess sometimes I just wanted compassion but all I got was discipline. I didn't always make the best of decisions but I was young and still trying to figure things out. When I would get into situations I found that I couldn't turn to my parents for aide because their beliefs told them that they shouldn't encourage wayward children. I'm not trying to over-dramatize but they basically turned their backs on me. Time passed and I grew into a woman and as I got older I put my impulsive and foolish ways behind me. I have a daughter now, a full-time job, and an apartment. I try not to ask anyone for anything. I take care of my little girl, I buy our food, and I keep the lights on. The road hasn't been the easiest for me but I'm making it and soon I will master it. Through it all my father has maintained his stance and so even after the birth of my daughter we've never had more then a cordial relationship. I'm older now and so I can somewhat understand him not tolerating certain behaviors in his household but now it seems like the lesson will never be over. I have seen the error of my ways and was forced into maturity in order to make a way for my daughter but to this day he holds stubbornly to his beliefs and his position and will not embrace me. He views my daughter as a permanent sign of my disobedience and is embarrassed that I will bring shame to his name in the eyes of his church members. This truly bothered me for a long time because I wanted him to see that I had really matured and was far from the young girl I once was. I'm not perfect but I'm a good person and I work hard. Recently, my daughter got sick and was hospitalized. I called my father to let him know about it and it was as if I was talking to a casual acquaintance and not a concerned grandfather. There was some compassion but there were also a lot of skeptical quest ions. It's hard to describe but as I sat there in the hospital room I felt as though I was being interviewed. It was like he was testing me to see if I was worthy to be let back into the family. It was at that very moment that I realized that I was a grown woman because going above and beyond myself to prove that I was worthy of being his daughter no longer mattered to me. All I was concerned about was the health and well-being of my child. For a while, dealing with them made me hate all religion because it was his church that was advising him to keep me at bay even after I had grown up. They were so concerned with maintaining their image that they were failing to follow the teachings of the book that they had sworn themselves too. Since that church and my family was all I knew growing up, when I found out what they were really about, I turned against religion in general. Recently, I've become a lot stronger and I've come to realize that their doctrine isn't universal. While rebellious acts shouldn't be condoned, many faiths believe that people can change. Grudges shouldn't be held forever and after a period of growth and maturation, the young who were wayward should be welcomed back into the flock not continuously outcast. I'm tired of paying for the sins of my past, Miles. I'm a better and different woman now then I ever was. I still love my father and my family with all of my heart but I'm wise enough to understand that I can not change people. I'm going to do the very best that I can for myself and my daughter and if their righteousness will not allow them to see me for the person that I've become then so be it. I can only go forward. Please keep us in your prayers. Melissa in Lake Mary. 16Apr2008 ------------------------ Gutspill Dear Miles, my neighbor Filipe is a pretty decent guy but I think I'm starting to get aggrivated everytime he steps on my property. Our encounters usually start off with me lounging on the deck in my backyard. When I hear him piddling around in his backyard I try to get really quiet so that he won't notice me but sure enough he pauses whatever he's doing and sticks his head over the fence to see if I'm there. Before I can reply to his "Evenin', neighbor" he's moving towards the gate to my backyard and before I can grab my lemonade and head inside he's on my deck smiling and giving me some corny line about how he's lived in Florida for 45 years but still seems to be surprised by the heat. Like I said, he's a decent enough guy but he's a talker and I'm on my deck sitting quietly with my feet propped up and a newspaper or my favorite book for a reason. To make matters worse, he's got this unearthly beer gut that extends out and over his tightly clamped belt. When he speaks he likes to lean in close for effect and unfortunately my deck chair puts me right at gut level. His belly always manages to get dangerously to my frosty beverage and while I listen to him talk I keep an eye on it's proximity. I know that it prefers beers but I'm still afraid that it might one day extend itself out beyond the shirt that barely contains it and envelope my drink. I try to be accomodating but I can only take so much. Last week he was talking and his cell phone rang. When the call started getting heated he began moving about and the motion sent his gut flopping to and fro. He could've been curteous and taken the call back to his house but he just hovered around me and before I knew it I had his gut inadvertently pressing against the side of my head. I don't know if you've ever been unfortunate enough to have the fullness of a man's fat gut mashed against your head but it's the kind of thing that tourments you for a couple of nights. It took everything in me to contain myself. All I want to do is relax in my home. A man's house should be his castle so why is my castle constantly under seige by 30 extra pounds of stored beer, strawberry cake and fried everything? Backyard Roger in Clermont. 4Apr2008 ------------------------ Tourney Time 2 Dear Miles, I probably shouldn’t have gotten involved with any sort of NCAA tournament competition but I did anyway and now I’m seriously starting to have regrets. My wife and I had been saving up to buy my daughter a new tuba (she’s lead horn in her school band) and so when we finally had enough I withdrew the money to go buy the instrument. The problem is that the very same morning that I took out the cash some of the guys on my job started filling out their tournament brackets and shoved one right in my face. I told them that I would have no part of their silly tournament pool because the only cash I had on me was the money for the tuba. In spite of my pleas they all but forced me to join and before I knew it I was filling in my brackets. I’ve always been pretty lucky and I figured that the East would waltz into the Final Four so I felt pretty comfortable putting half of the tuba money into the pot. I knew that victory was a lock so I told my wife that the tuba was on order for the next few weeks (enough time for me to win the tourney pool and get the money back). Bad idea. I had Duke slated to go pretty deep and Georgetown set to go all the way to the Final Four and they’ve both been upset! North Carolina better win the whole friggin thing or else my wife is going to have a fit! I’ve already started scouring Ebay for second-hand and third-hand tubas. I found a guy out in Bithlo that has one for cheap but it’s been sitting out in his tool shed for 7 years and he thinks that possoms may have nested in it. I told him that if he doesn’t clean it out then he should take off 10 percent. I don’t know why I jumped into the stupid pool. Guess I couldn’t say no to that sweet action. Maybe one day I’ll learn. Maybe. But not if Carolina wins. Wish me luck. Blue Bill. 26Mar2008 ------------------------ The Big O Dear Miles, I don't know how developed your taste for culinary sweets is but if you ever have an opportunity to introduce someone special in your life to Orange Cheesecake I highly recommend you do it. I'm not simply talking about a desert, I'm talking about an experience, darling. Orange Cheesecake is something that everyone has heard of but surprisingly few have actually experienced. I don't know a woman alive that hasn't experienced the joy of a decent piece of cheesecake but until she's had a true Orange Cheesecake then she hasn't had a proper dessert. The problem with Orange Cheesecake is that it's hard to find a good baker who can prepare it. Creating one can be a time-consuming process due to the usually long baking time and requires patience, experience, and dilligence. The baker also has to be selfless and totally devoted to producing the best possible result. Most chefs just plain lack the credentials to make an Orange Cheesecake happen but every so often a culinary eficiando will present himself. Unfortunately, my palette has been ruined for ordinary cheesecake and so when it's time for dessert I'm not truely satidfied until I've had Orange Cheesecake. It nulls my senses and makes it hard for me to hear or understand when I'm being talked to. I literally lose myself in the moment and get caught up in the sensations of my delight. I just recently moved to Orlando so I haven't found a good pastry chef yet but I am certainly on the look out. I am very picky about who I let handle my sweets and I refuse to settle for ordinary. Orange Cheesecake is worth the wait. I never knew how wonderful dessert could be until I had my first piece. Bon appetite. Sherita in Orlando. 8Mar2008 ------------------------ Gangsta Feedback Dear Miles, I just read your article on the subject of gangster rap music and I agree with you 100 percent. I think that it's given way too much power as a whole. The fact that some people can sit there, listen to that stuff, and actually take it seriously just blows my mind. It's nothing more then entertainment if you ask me. Granted, it is a far cry from wholesome, whitebread entertainment but it's entertainment nontheless and, as with any other form of enterment, if it's not to your liking then simply turn off your radio and then convince your neighbor to do the same. It's all about money, Miles. Money talks. So if someone doesn't like that particular brand of entertainment then simply don't support it. Rappers and the huge mega conglomerates that push them are just giving the people what they're willing to pay for. Don't you think that if Americans demanded songs about peace and love that there would suddenly be a rush of rappers with songs about caring and sharing? You better believe it. If the people want it then big corporations will find performers to make it happen. Now I certainly don't want to come off as a proponent of female objectification or illegal activity but are we really taking what these guys say to heart? Am I really going to start beating on my girlfriend and selling drugs because Young Jeezy tells me too? Am I really that weak? No. I think for myself, Miles. I don't need 50 Cent to be my role-model. His job is to entertain and if teens and children are being swayed by the crap that he says then maybe their guardians should take more of an active role in their lives so they won't feel the need to do what 50 says. Just my 2 cents. Hallie in Watermill Park. 1Mar2008 ------------------------ Do I Look Fat? Help me, Miles! Last night I was in my bedroom watching Shaq's glorious return to the Western Conference when my wife walked in and dropped a bomb on me. She pranced around for a little bit, put her hands on her hips, and asked me "does this dress make me look fat?" I almost choked on the honey roasted peanuts that I was chomping on. The answer was a definite yes but I certainly was not stupid enough to blurt it out. I immediately broke out in a cold sweat because I knew that a question like this could mean the end of life as I knew it. Or at the very least, I wouldn't be able to finish watching the game. Luckily, right before I could answer, her long-winded sister called. After about 3 quarters, I heard her hang up the phone so I turned over and pretended that I had gone to sleep. This morning, I woke up before she did and just hung out in the tool shed until she went to work. I'm not going to be able to avoid her forever, man. Sooner or later, she's going to corner me and she's going to ask me if I think she looks fat again. How the heck am I supposed to respond to that and still sound like a nice guy? "Why yes honey, you do look like your starting to pack it on in the gut area." Why does she even need to ask me that question? She stares at herself in the mirror for 5 hours every day. And I know she can't wear the same clothes that she used to. Who is she kidding? What have I done so wrong? I'd love for her to loose the weight but even the idea of saying it to her makes my back hurt because I know I'll be on the couch for 3 months! I read somewhere that when a man wants his wife to loose weight that he should offer to work out with her. Miles, I'm on my feet 12 hours a day for a home building company so I'm already in good shape. I don't need any exercise. Why can't she take the initiative and loose the weight on her own? She sure gained it on her own! This isn't fair. Rupert in hiding. 21Feb2008 ------------------------ Commitment Via Obligation Dear Miles, my roommate and I have a mutual friend who recently proposed to his girlfriend. I asked the friend how did he know that it was time to pop the big question and whether or not he had that special tingly feeling about his girlfriend. My roommate, who also happens to be in a long term relationship, immediately jumped on my case saying that the tingly feeling wasn't always necessary when deciding to get married and that sparked a big discussion about how and when relationships should progress. For clarification, the special tingly feeling is a feeling that you get around someone who you absolutely adore. The tingly feeling means that you can't wait to spend time with the person and is a usually an indicator of a strong connection. My roommate believes that the tingly feeling isn't needed to build a strong relationship with someone. He argued that that type of situation would not present itself for everyone and that those who were in constant search of the feeling were fools destined to be single and waiting forever. He told us that he certainly wasn't head over heels in love with his girlfriend but she was a good person and that, after a while of being together, marriage was the next logical step. He was the oldest of us all and so after years of dealing with bad women maybe he was a bit jaded with the whole courtship process. Regardless of his reasoning, I simply could not see things the way that he did. I'm not saying that people should be holding out for their soulmate because I don't believe in that either. The notion that there is only one person who can complement you on a planet of 5 billion is just ridiculous. However, things between 2 people in a relationship should at least feel right. I see the tingly feeling as something that lets me know that I'm at least on the right track with someone. I told my roommate that what he was suggesting was that if a girl stuck around for long enough that she would become girlfriend by default and, if she really played her cards right, she could wait her way into a marriage! Like if she's been around for long enough then he's obligated to move to the next level. I couldn't imagine spending the next 40-50 years with someone who I wasn't absolutely crazy about. But I guess could see his point. Not everyone on this planet will be fortunate enough to just run into someone that they can fall madly in love with... but does that mean that they should commit to whoever they don't get tired of? I don't think so. I think finding someone who makes you happy more often then not and gives you that tingly feeling is worth the wait. So our discussion went on for a few hours and finally I asked the friend who was getting married my original question again. He told us that his previous relationship was just average and that this one was like night and day. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but something just felt right and he knew that he wanted to marry her. I nodded my head, looked at my roommate, and told him that that was how it was supposed to be. CM from Gameland. 19Feb2008 ------------------------ The Martini Lunch Dear Miles, Are you stressing at work? Are you sick and tired of your co-workers? Do you feel pressure to constantly perform at a high level? Well, I used to suffer from all of these on my job and quite frankly it was killing me. I'd show up at work early, bust my butt all day, and then leave late. Everyday was a nightmare for me until one sunny afternoon I decided to take a walk to clear my head. I was exploring the first floor of the building that our office is in and I stumbled upon a little bar tucked away beyond the main lobby. And that, my friend, is when I was introduced to the Martini Lunch. Yes, the Martini Lunch. I walked up to the bar, asked the bartender to surprise me, and he produced 8 ounces of refreshment that changed my whole outlook on work. After my Martini Lunch, I went back to work fancy free and light as a feather. Whatever crap I was stressing over prior to lunch was the furthest thing from my mind afterwards. In fact, I really couldn't remember what I had been working on that morning. I couldn't believe it! I felt as if a huge stressful weight had been taken off of my shoulders and gently placed inside of my liver. Now, I never go a day without my Martini Lunch. My body has become so used to being stress free that I get headaches or back cramps if I miss a Martini Lunch. Sometimes, when the afternoon is really busy, I'll slip downstairs for an afternoon pick-me-up. I affectionately refer to it as my Pre-Happy Hour Power Boost! The difference in my whole life is just unbelieveable. People and things just don't bother me anymore. My boss was yelling at me the other day about a lack of productivity and it was as if he wasn't even talking to me at all. Now that's living stress free! With the end of the financial quarter coming up, it looks as if our mornings are going to start picking up as well. In preparation, I've already begun to schedule in a new treat for myself called the Martini Brunch. I just feel so free, Miles. The sensation is amazing. I've found the ultimate deterant for work related anxiety. Cheers! Sherry in Maitland. 13Feb2008 ------------------------ The Tag Along or The Dependent Hi Miles, I need to get a message across to a good friend of mine and while it's easy to write, it's hard to say. Every so often my girlfriends like to get together and enjoy a nice girls' night out. 2 of of us, including myself, are single, 1 has a boyfriend, and 1 is married. Now the one with the boyfriend never brings him along because the night is supposed to be all about the girls. That's why it's called a girls' night out. But every time without fail, my married friend shows up with her husband dressed and ready to mingle. We always give her the crazy face look as if to say "uh... why is he here?" but she never seems to get it. From that point on the evening always takes a weird and awkward turn because there're a big testosterone rock in the middle of our soothing estrogen mud bath. We've playfully mentioned the problem to her before and she just laughed it off saying that she was part of a package now and that we had to accept him into the group too. No we dont! She needs to slice that package in half and tell the half that doesn't have a uterus to go to a sports bar on our night out. It's gotten to the point where we've started to meet an hour earlier then when we tell her just so that we can get some quality girl talk in. Her husband is a nice enough guy and all but it's supposed to be our night! They can't stand to be apart for 1 night? So then I start wondering about why he's always there. Is he the type of guy who just can't let his woman out of his sight except to go pee? What kind of guy wants to come hang out with his wife's friends while they whine and gossip? Aren't there sports being played somewhere in the world that he could be watching? Isn't there a car that needs to be worked on somewhere? Does he not trust her and so he feels the need to tag along? How insecure is that? But then I look at the other side and wonder if she's the problem. Maybe she's the type who just can't be anywhere or do anything without her husband. As if the 28 years that she was not married and going out man-free suddenly went out the window after she walked the isle. I know she's crazy about him but she shouldn't be crazy without him for just one evening. I'm not quite sure how to bring it up either because I don't want her to think that I'm jealous of her situation or anything. I just want my time with my girls back! The Deuce in Altamonte Springs. 9Feb2008 ------------------------ Hot and Beautiful Dear Miles, I was downtown last night, looking fabulous as I always am, and was approached by approximately eight different guys at eight different levels of intoxication and the first thing out of the mouths of every one of them was "you're hot". When I was nineteen I found those words flattering, but now that I'm the ripe old age of twenty-two I'm not so impressed by the phrase anymore. I've learned when a stranger says that what he's basically saying is that he considers me a prime subject for screwing and would like to commence with the activity as soon as possible. No thank you, sir. I've also learned that a lot of men subconsciously put being hot and being beautiful in two very different categories. A hot girl is strictly a physical attraction to a guy. It's those primal instincts to propagate as frequently as possible popping up and taking control. He'll say or possibly do anything just to get under her skirt and once the goal is achieved he's on to the next hot girl for more of the same. But when a guy sees a girl as beautiful he's looking at something inside of her. Guys fall in love with beautiful girls and take them home to meet their mothers and take time to cook them breakfast in the morning. A girl who is beautiful doesn't have to be classified as hot because something about her makes him look past his primal instincts to spread seed. So I don't want to be just hot to some guy anymore. I want him to think that I'm beautiful. I've been doing my homework, Miles. I figure the easier it is for me to understand the mentality of the average guy, then the easier it is for me to pick the right one. Jennifer in Orlando. 9Feb2008 ------------------------ I Hate U, Miles 11 Dear Mr. Miles, I once believed that you were an educated man but clearly I was mistaken. This email is in response to your article bashing those of us who choose to practice our right to free speech and voice our unhappiness with the products and services that we receive. I just so happen to be one of those people with "nothing better to do" and you should thank your lucky stars that I exist, you jerk! Yes, we are the ones who watch local newscasts and write 2 page emails when our favorite anchor changes the color of her hair. Yes, we are the ones who hand write letters of disaproval to vending machine companies when we put in 70 cents and the candy bar gets stuck. Our letters brought back Family Guy for crying out loud! It may 2 hours out of my life to write a letter that will probably be disgarded 30 seconds after opened but our opinions matter! I am a citizen and consumer in the greatest nation on Earth and I have a right to express my discomfort with every little thing in my life. And I also have a right to attach a 40 cent stamp to that expression and send it directly to the home address of some corporate CEO. Our diligence reminds the media and manufacturing superpowers that they exist because of the people and that we, the people, will not tolerate crap! You sir, are a stupid cow. Expect 4 more letters of annoyance and disaproval from me in the coming weeks. Good day. Typewriting Todd. 27Jan2008 ------------------------ Politics As Usual Dear Miles, life was so much simpler when I was an alderman. Living in my district allowed me to see and experience everything that my neighbors did and so it was so easy to understand what they needed and represent them in the city council. Truthfully speaking, I didn't even want to go into politics. I was just serious about seeing change in my community and it all just kind of took off. I was Incorruptible, I was passionate, and I was a political force to be reckoned with. I think things started to turn during my second tenure as mayor and by the time I became a state senator I was a long way from the man I once was. Knowledge truely is power and as I rose through the political ranks I started to accumulate knowledge about policies and opportunities that the average person had no idea about. Plus, when you're in a positiion of power to dictate laws and decide who will and will not receive funding, everyone wants to be your friend. I was receiving everything from goodie baskets to vacation packages to cars all for my support on passing this law or that law. I've even had women offer themselves to me on behalf lobbyist groups. Running a campaign is expensive and I had to reach out for funding. At first, I refused any corporate help or sponsorships but after a while it became difficult to drum up support from the public sector. The year I started taking funding from these massive companies is the year that I started to fell like a slave to their interest. It was as if I owed them. Naturally, I lost touch with my constituency. When you're living in the capital, it's not as easy to ascertain the needs of those you represent because you're simply not around. I went back and saw them during re-election time and I'd throw them a few bones during my incumbency to keep them content, but for the most part, I was acting on my own behalf. Things had become so different for me when I became powerful. There's just so much information and opportunity and everything somehow always seems to boil down to either the aquisition of or the maintaining of money. Politians shouldn't serve long terms because people get comfortable and temptation seeps in. These positions were intended to be for servants but they've been elevated to the stature of modern day lords. Even those who enter this field with the best of intentions eventually succumb to the power that it holds. No regular person can truely say what they'd do if exposed to such opportunity and information. Things change. I'm only a shadow of the righteous man I once was. I've gotten lost in the system and now scandal is imminent. The Honorable Senator X. 26Jan08 ------------------------ Bombs Away Wassup Miles, don't know if you're in the market for a new home or not but I imagine that houses are going for dirt cheap up around Odyssey Middle School. Just make sure you don't go trying to plant a garden or anything. You might dig up a bomb. Have you been hearing about that neighborhood on the news? I guess they built the school on top of a World War II munitions range. Seems like every Tuesday I'm hearing about them uncovering more land mines. Rumor has it that there's a whole tank buried underground. Can you imagine the little first graders out there playing tag just feet away from buried live government bombs? Hide 'n Go Seek just got a little more intense, baby. I guess you won't have to worry about over-sleeping there either because the army detonates the uncovered mines in the mornings. So if you can endure the concussion bombs at breakfast and navigate through the buried shells then you'll probably be able to forge quite a comfy existence for yourself. And should some foreign nation attack, all you'd have to do is run to your backyard for ammunition. Welcome home. Petey in Orlando. 20Jan2008 ------------------------ The 99 Cent Whopper Dear Miles, I know I probably shouldn't be writing this, and God help you should you decide to print it, but the truth is something that I just can't hold inside of me. A conspiracy is brewing and I don't know if there's anything that can be done to stop it but we have to try. America should be a nation governed through and run by the people but instead our laziness has made us slaves to the greed of the major corporations. Their slick advertising campaigns and clever marketing ploys have made fools of us all! Well today sir, I pose the following questions to you: What's happened to liberty? What's happened to justice? What's happened to the 99 cent Whopper? Yes, I know I do not stand alone in my struggle to understand exactly how a hamburger that was the pride of a nation could have been snatched away from us and then handed back at double its former price. The swindlers knew that they were committing an atrocity so they cleverly introduced a scaled down version of the prized burger. The logic was simple: make even greater profits by forcing Whopper traditionalists to pay twice their usual amount for their burger while simultaneously offering less product (a smaller burger) to the dollar menu faithful! Does America not see? Does she not care? Our precious, God-given Whopper was taken from our happy, cholesterol-filled lives on the whim of some slick-haired, ear-piece addicted, marketing executive. Do they really expect us to believe that one Whopper is equal to two and a half Whopper Jrs? No! We are not fools! We are Americans! And we're hungry! I know that I don't stand alone on this issue. There are others out there who secretly yearn to demand back the 99 Whopper but remain silent for fear of big business retaliation! The incorporated fascists will stop at no means to silence the revolution, attempting everything from "Wanted: Dead or Alive" style posters featuring mug-shots of Whopper enthusiasts to the outright banishment of these revolutionists from any restaurant that serves the Whopper. Their reach is long but the arms of the people stretch longer! Together we can do it, man. We must take a stand and demand that which was once ours to love, cherish, and smother with ketchup. We must take back our liberties, our passions, our 99 cent Whoppers! Viva la Whopper! Citizen X. 7Jan2008 ------------------------ A Resolve Happy New Year, Miles. A new year is a new opportunity for me. I'm resolving to make some serious changes this year because I'm just fed up with being fed up. I'm tired of the same old results and moving every which way but forwards. What I've been doing is easy but it's gotten me nowhere fast and I need to be somewhere even faster. Life is precious and I've wasted enough of my time doing all of things I shouldn't be doing. I'm resolving to accept the situations that I can not control and to become a master of the situations that I can. This year I'm resolving to look back at the end of my day and be proud of what I accomplished while the sun was up. This year I will be stronger. This year I will run farther. This year my resolution is to move the mountain that is myself. Jo-Anna in motion. 2Jan2008 ------------------------ Holiday Pressure Dear Miles, I've got way too many people to shop for and I think the holiday pressure of trying to make everyone happy will be the death of me. My mother watches a lot of soap operas and is always admiring the set decorations and furnishings that she sees. She sits and wishes for that type of stuff but then when I order those fancy linens or lamps or furnishings for her she complains that they're "too Hollywood" for her and wonders why I didn't just by her stockings. My father always unwraps his gift with one eyebrow raised as if to say "can you really afford this?" Asking my spacey brother what he wants is like interrogating a politician because I can never get a straight answer out of him. He could tell me one thing and immediately change it depending on whatever TV commercial happes to come on during our conversation. I have an eco-friendly younger sister with a blossoming social life who can't decide if she wants to dress in earth-conscious tones and fabrics or flaunt the latest sweat shop produced, high-designer fashion. Asking her what she wants for Christmas is like talking to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide. I have close girlfriends who claim that they don't want anything but will call me a cheap skate to my face if I don't have something for them. I walk into the huge department stores and everything is so overwhelming. There are people running up and down all of the isles in a frenzy who don't know what they want so they stop and look at exactly at what I'm looking at and get in a ready position should they need to grab it first. And everything seems like a bargain! How can I narrow it down to just one item when almost everything has a red tag on it that says that it's reduced 50 percent for the holiday sale? The advertising monster has me believing that I'm actually loosing money if I don't take advantage of the deals! I hate the crowds, I hate the lines, I hate the tempers, but if don't come through with spectacular gifts then I'll be a black sheep for the rest of the year! I hate the holidays! Cindy screaming outside of the mall. 23Dec2007 ------------------------ The Good Change Dear Miles, For the longest time I swore that I would never change for any man nor let any man change me. I felt that if he couldn't accept absolutely all of me for me then he simply wasn't worth my time. I guess I was young and full of fire because I couldn't be told anything! People would say stuff to me about myself all of the time but I was just not trying to hear it. Guys were a dime a dozen so their opinions of me really didn't matter much. Well, I've been in a relationship for almost a year and I see that I have changed but for the better. From the moment I met him I knew he was different then the jerks that I had been used to. He not only braved the stubborn, sassy-storm that was me but he stood strong and told me early that he would eventually change me. I was naturally on the defensive but what I didn't realize was that he meant for the better. His caring, even-tempered, and thoughtful personality actually grounded me and thru him I've become a more patient person. Everyone's opinion doesn't matter and listening to foolishness from foolish people is not the thing to do. But he showed me that I was also blowing off the thoughts and opinions of those who truely loved and cared about me. He didn't want me to be a slave to the desires of everyone around me but instead he encouraged me to be more attentive to what they were saying. I love his spirit. He's showed me that I don't need to let the little insignificant annoyances of everyday life stress me out and shorten my lifespan. I can't control life's situations but I can control how I deal with them. He's even helped me to quit smoking! A wonderful man has made me do something that I thought I'd never do for anyone. I don't know how many sappy love letters you get for the holidays Miles but I just had to write this. I'll be spending this Christmas with someone who's made me realize that not all change is bad and I adore him for it. Merry Christmas, Miles. Tiwanna in Winter Park. 22Dec2007 ------------------------ Unparalleled Trust Dear Miles, one of my best lady friends is a travelling executive who always gets a free guest ticket when she flys on business. We dated a while back and broke up but we still get along splendidly and so she often invites me to go on trips with her for company. I've been all over the world and have seen and experienced all kinds of cool things. Every woman that I've dated since her however has always had issues with our excursions. It's definitely understandable because who would want their boyfriend to be jetting off to some exotic land with an ex? But on the other hand, if I say that no deviant behavior is going on, shouldn't my word serve as reassurance enough? Shouldn't I be allowed to continue to fly for free with a platonic friend if nothing is going on? Be careful what you wish for. Recently, I started seeing a woman who's as cool as the other side of the pillow and doesn't seem to have the typical trust issues that most people suffer from. I think it steams from the fact that she has a lot of guy friends and so she's used to asking for and giving trust to whoever she's dating. I'm not going to lie, I know that some of her male friends have alterior motives for friendship with her but because she's understanding of my situation I try to curb my anxiety whenever she's out with those snakes. Since I've been with my new girlfriend, I've taken a few domestic trips but now my executive friend has invited me to go to Korea with her. It sounds fantastic but that's an 18 hour flight and will probably take up a solid week. I spoke with my girlfriend about it and she's okay with me going! Have I stumbled upon the epitome of trust, Miles? I've never even heard of a female who was seemingly so calm about her man's interactions with an ex-girlfriend. As I said, nothing is going on between us but still.... I would expect some level of natural suspicion. It's only human right? Maybe my years of dealing with the typical insecurities of people have tainted me from believing that such a person can exist because sometimes I get suspicious of her un-suspicious-ness! Isn't a little suspicion healthy? Doesn't just a little mean that she cares? I want to ask her who on earth lets their man skirt off to some foriegn country for days on end with an ex? Her level of trust is unreal to me and, while I acknowledge that it could be the real deal, I refuse to believe it. She's got to be cheating with one of her guy friends. I can't see it any other way. It's like drinking fresh orange juice after being raised on Tang, the real thing is just doesn't taste right anymore. Crazy, huh? Martin not in Korea. 19Dec2007 ------------------------ The USPCA Scenario Miles, don't know how things are in your neck of the woods but where I live all of the people who should not be having kids are somehow managing to have kids. And they're not just having a few kids, they're having oodles of kids. Meanwhile, all of the smart or common sense-filled people that I know are coming up short in the reproduction category. I contribute it to the fact that the smarter folks know that actions have consequences and so are probably a little more self-disciplined. In addition to this, children have a tendency to retard life plans and lifestyles dramatically and so some of the smarter folks (the selfish plotters that they are) may refrain from bringing little bundles of joy into the world for fear of having to give up too many of the privilages and freedoms that they enjoy. Having a kid is a BIG deal and if someone if not mentally equipped (notice I made no mention of finance) to properly raise it then the child suffers and develops issues that could be harmful to society in general. So if Little Timmy isn't getting all of the hugs that he needs at home because mommy hasn't grown out of her party stage then Little Timmy just may grow up and lash out at other people in some twisted attempt to make up for all of the hugs mommy was never around to give. Sadly, most people aren't thinking about the future or obligations or society or the burden when they opt to let the spermatozoa fly. That's understandable, it does feel good. With this type of reckless, selfish mentality running rampant and the jail systems spilling over with the products of unfit parents, congress will pass an act that will give birth to the United States Population Control Authority. The USPCA will be grounded in one harsh but simplistic principle: Everyone should not be having kids. While it can never be gauranteeded that being raised by loving parent(s) will guarantee a productive, well-balanced member of society, it's a start. And the numbers show that these kids tend to be a lot better off then kids raised by parents who don't give a damn. The USPCA will administer a serum into newborns that will neutralize the reproductive catalysts. The serum will also be given to as many people as possible and will basically stop babies from being created. When a person or persons decides that the time is right to bear offspring, they will be required to take the Standard Child-Bearing Aptitude Test (the SCBAT) and prove their capacity to raise a productive member of society. Upon passing, the parents-to-be will be given the precious anti-serum which will "reactivate" their reproduction capabilities. The people who have the power to form organizations such as the USPCA will have come to understand that morons raising kids could be a matter of national security if society is ultimately hurt by the mal-adjusted child and so the USPCA will be granted whatever authority or resources deemed necessary to protect America and its citizens from themselves. Firm constitutionalists and a third of the religious super-conservatives will complain about violations of personal freedoms, but as with so many other liberties that get abused, the right to bear children will also become a government regulated privilage. The USPCA will also impose tougher border restrictions in its attempt to curb the swelling population and keep out any untreated potential parents. As with most large-scale initiatives, there will be undesired consequences to the formation of the United States Population Control Authority. An anti-USPCA subculture will develop and people will run the risk of delivering children outside of hospitals for the sake of having an "unregulated baby." Men and women with a natural immunity to the USPCA serum or who have somehow managed to avoid receiving their treatment will become highly coveted, child-production whores. Parents deemed unfit to produce offspring will clamour for illegal reproductions of the anti-serum and will cause its price on the black market to soar. Without the fear of conception, unprotected sexual activity will skyrocket and STD rates will rise. The flourish of sexually transmitted toxins will cause new super-strains of diseases to evolve and a new epidemic will be brought to the public's attention. All because it's too easy for the wrong people to have children. Imagine that. Amanda in Atlanta. 15Dec2007 ------------------------ A Modest Proposal Dear Mr. Miles, Got some love that I gotta express to the lil lady in my life but Im having trouble gettin my thoughts outta my noggin. I love her like corn fritters in september and was hoping that you could give my letter to her a gander and tell me what you think. It reads: Dear Paula Ann, I think its high time we got hitched. We been courtin for goin on 4 years now and a pig in slop couldnt be happier then me. My grandpa would cut me out of the family bean cannery business if i ever shacked up with you so we may as well make it all official. I want you to be my ol lady. I reckon the eggs and okra that you cook up in the morning plus the way you press up my overalls sharper then a pastor on Sunday plus the way you grease my toes even after you had a long day have all just got me spellbound and I honestly couldnt see myself with no other girl in this county. The courthouse closes for the holidays on the 19th so if you want to be my misses just holler. I love you. Curt. 6Dec2007 ------------------------ What Are You Doing Dear Miles, every now and again when I go back to my old neighborhood I see one of the young fellers that I grew up. He's a good kid but I think he's just living day to day and is just kind of floating aimlessly. Yesterday, I stopped him and asked him what was going on in his young and fabulous life and his response was what I imagined it would be: not much. He told me that he was working but not really and when he did work it was never a big deal and so he was oftentimes inbetween jobs. Sprinkle in a love for plain, old fashioned hanging out on the block, a post-adolescent drive for skirt-chashing, and a general disregard for anything unrelated to himself and I was looking at the perfect recipe for a brother going nowhere fast. My first instinct is always to slap guys I see in this predicament and tell them to wake up but I instead looked him dead in his eyes and casually but firmly asked him "what are you doing?" After the typical "I don't know, man" response, I proceeded to try to enlighten him. He was a young man with the whole world in front of him just ripe for the taking. He had stumbled out of high school and was in this gray area inbetween not having anything to do all day and getting mired in a real world rut. I asked him what he wanted to do. After a thoughtful shoulder shrug, I asked him was he happy with his life. His answer, of course, was no. He had the typical list of things that he wanted to have and after an always-exciting round of "this is what I want" I firmed up and ask him how he was planning to get there. Everyone wants a payday but no one wants to punch the clock. I'm still a relatively young guy and we're pretty cool so when I talk to him I think it goes a bit deeper then when the older folks preach at him. I gave him the sugar-free version of how it takes determination and a true hustler's spirit to get everything he wants the right way. He was a young brother with no steady girlfriend, no kids, and no real commitments. What was stopping him from making moves to be where he wanted to be in life? So many people have done so much more working with so much less. The only thing holding him back was himself. I told him that if he wanted women then a steady paycheck would look a lot more appealing then the nickels and dimes that he had on him now. If he wanted his own place or his own car then that stuff could be attained as well but it all required some type of a gameplan and initiative. The only person who was depending on his happiness was himself. Unfortunately, none of that stuff comes overnight and so it takes drive and patience. He was young so I know he had energy and desire, he was just lacking in focus. I told him that life didn't just stop when he realized that he wasn't getting a full-ride scholarship to a massive state university. There were so many other routes to take. Take night courses, enroll in a community college, go take up a trade! Want money? Work two jobs and stack paper. Put a gameplan together. Do something constructive. Stay away from your troublesome buddies for just a few weeks and watch how different you'll feel. Do something. Make a game plane. Make a life plan. Do something! I was practically pleading with him. Anything to make him understand. I told him to take a real look at all of the rappers, athletes, and other success stories that he admired. Behind all of their jewelry, fancy cars, and high dollar clothes were people who had paid their dues and put in a lot of hard work to get where they wanted to be. They had dreams but they also had gameplans, determination, and a solid work ethic. After all of that, I calmed down, looked him dead in his eyes, and casually but firmly asked him "what are you doing?" Wayne from the westside. 2Dec2007 ------------------------ The Fall of Marriage Dear Miles, I just read your article on The Fall of Marriage and I have to say that I agree completely with you. It almost seems as though people just aren't wired to stay together anymore. I think that the problem is modern American culture. In their never ending quest to move product, Madison Avenue and corporate America have flooded the people with commercials, advertisements, books, shows, and movies that all preach instant gratification. We live in an "I want it now" society. We've become increasing impatient as a whole and feel that if we want something that we should have it right away because we deserve it. Billions of dollars are being spent to make you desire toys, foods, gadgets, lifestyles, and other crap that you do not (and probably shouldn't) have. Buy it now. Be a part of it now. Have it now. Everything is now now now. I think it's only natural that this type of thinking has manifested itself in our relationships as well. We want happiness now and so we jump into relationships. When hard times come up in the relationship or when something better comes along (which it always will), we aren't fighting as hard as we used to to make it work because we owe ourselves instant gratification. Don't blame it on foolish young couples who get married too young because that kind of stuff was going on in my grandmother's day. The difference is that our mentality has shifted. When a couple back in grandmother's day got married they knew they were in it for the long haul come hell or high water. I feel like today's couples just don't have that fighting spirit so when tough times come, instead of powering through it, we're crumbling. Plus divorce in itself is made way too easy anyway. It's no longer a taboo in most circles. One fix, of course, would be to just slow down and spend a large amount of time in the dating or "getting to know a person" phase of the relationship. And I'm talking years, not months. If you're going to be spending the next 40 years with someone, what's a couple of years? But unfortunately, this takes patience and we'd much rather have our dessert right now. I only plan to get married once and I know it's not going to be with Mr. Perfect. But I'm definitely going to take my time and make sure that he's right for me and that he's in it for the long haul. Courtney in Orlando. 21Nov2007 Wassup Miles, just read your marriage article and I'll tell you the same thing that I tell kids offered drugs. Just say no! It's a trap! You think that marriage is for you but it's not. It's for her. If guys are truly meant to be with one person forever then why do we have to fight ourselves our whole lives NOT to look at or think about other women? How natural is it if you have to fight your own nature to make it work! And woe to the poor soul who has to get a divorce. Here in Florida, even if she was the one who cheated she STILL gets half of all your stuff! If you were a business investor that was asked to be a part of partnership where the partner could come in with nothing, leave whenever they wanted to for whatever reason, and be entitled to half of everything you own... would you invest? No because it's a bad deal, dude! She did all of the things that you liked to hook you and keep you from wandering while yall were courting. Do you honestly think that she's going to work that hard once she knows she's got you? No, again! That's false advertisement! Everything changes once they get a ring, dude! It's a trap! Don't fall into it. Be free and happy forever! Reggie the Great. 21Nov2007 Dear Miles, I think you're leaving one very import piece out of your "Fall of Marriage" argument: female independence. Now before your female readers start throwing their dirty panties at the screen, allow me to explain. Women are taking a larger and larger piece of the American pie and as a whole are making more money now then ever. With increased income comes more independence. So if corporate Susie is making more money then her blue-collar husband, how much of his crap do you think she's going to tolerate? Not much. You follow? Back in the Fifties, the average woman made far less and so she had to depend on her better half for financial support. So when her husband did dirt she was more inclined to stick around for the sake of her own well being and the kids. People talk smack about how women stuck by their men in the old days but don't you think that those chicks would have the left had they had the financial capability? Think about it. So fast-forward into the present. Men are still doing dirt, that hasn't changed. But what has changed is that now women don't have to put up it with it because they can afford to just take the kids and go live independently. I said female independence earlier but I guess the correct phrase would be female financial independence. They don't have to tolerate the crap anymore and so they're less committed. The solution? Well, I guess you (and your female readers) could argue that if men stopped doing dirt then they'd have no reason to leave but I'm not going to accept that. I'm a guy and doing dirt is just part of who we are. Soooo the only other alternative is for chicks to suck it up and deal with it like their fore-mothers did! lol. I'm only kidding. Put your panties back on ladies. Cheers, Miles. Tony in the Park. 20Nov2007 ------------------------ The Temptation of Man Miles, I'll tell you straight, man. As men, we're all weak and fools for the things that will hurt us the most. Namely, women. I don't know what kind of voodoo the right type of female puts on a man but when she does it can be dangerous for that poor soul. Whether it's a body packed with curves or a seductive tongue, every self-respecting guy has his breaking point and should be weary it. I recently found myself in a situation where I was in close quarters with a hot, little temptress. Now, this would have been great had I been a free man but I was in a relationship and so constant exposure to a woman like that was a bad thing. Very bad. She knew my status and still tried to seduce me every chance she got. I'm a pretty strong willed guy and figured that I could ride the situation out but I was wrong. I'm a man and just like 98% of other men I crumbled under her tempting pressure. Miles, hear me out. Don't take anything for granted. When placed in a tempting situation don't try to fight it! We're not built to deny ourselves and eventually we fall to the spell-binding seduction. You have to remove yourself from that situation altogether. If you're looking for a good time then you're golden but if not then you need to cut the temptress out of the picture. You can't fight her, man. She'll win. They always win! Just look at the hundreds of millions who have fallen before. If you know that you shouldn't be eating cupcakes then don't even walk by the bakery! Take the advice of a man who's lost quite a bit... don't fight the temptress, avoid her at all costs. Dunbar. 15Nov2007 ------------------------ She's Walking Dear Miles, one night I was coming home from work and decided to stop and get some gas. While I was standing at the pump a car pulled up with two guys and a girl inside. I couldn't hear what they were saying but it was obvious that an argument was taking place. After a few minutes the girl hopped out of the car, slammed the door and started walking down the street. The guys in the car sat and talked to each other as the girl slowly disappeared from view. Neither looked as if he was going to even attempt to go get her. I shook my head in disgust as I replaced the noozle and drove off. While driving home I kept thinking about what I had seen and felt really bad for the girl. It was cold and definitely way too late for a pretty girl to be out walking unescorted. I found myself getting furious at the knuckleheads for just letting her walk away like that. I've been in some pretty heated arguments but seeing a woman home safely is just the right thing to do. How bad would they have felt if something had happened to her? Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. I made a u-turn and headed back pass the gas-station. I didn't see the guys' car but a couple of blocks away I saw the girl still walking. I pulled over, told her I saw the whole thing, and offered her a ride. She looked pretty upset but decided to get in anyway and pointed me to her apartment. She told me that she had just gotten fed up with her boyfriend and his brother and could not stand another minute with them. I applauded her courage and told her that no man should ever make a lady walk. Long story short Miles, I made a new friend that night and soon after the friendship developed into a relationship. I can hardly believe it myself sometimes. We've been a happy couple for almost six months now and it all sprung from a foolish man who did not know how to treat a lady. Adarius in Orlando. 29Oct2006 ------------------------ I Need A Motive Dear Miles, I try to stay away from the News because a man can only tolerate so much nonsense in his world. Aside from the fact that it's nothing but bad news (because no news sells like bad news), I get disgusted whenever I hear stories about young men taking the lives of other young men for reasons that don't really matter. When I hear of drug dealers and thieves killing each other I tune out but when I hear about regular joes getting killed I instinctively walk over and cut the volume up. I've found that I'm waiting for the newscaster to say that the victim was somehow involved with the no-goodniks. I think I need for their deaths to have a reason or an explanation behind them. An innocent person getting caught in a random act of violence reminds me that things are getting worse for the everyday slubs like me who just go to work and come home. I'm frozen until I hear them say that police suspect the victim of criminal involvement. Then I exhale, shake my head, and go on with my day. JP. 27Oct2006 ------------------------ Fighting Myself Hi Miles. Thanks for the response and you're right. I don't know why I keep fighting myself. I'm falling for a guy who has made it more then clear that he just isn't interested in a relationship right now. I've told him that I've progressed beyond friendship and that I can't continue on as we have been but he acts as if he never heard me. I don't know if he's scared of committing or if he just doesn't want to. Either answer is not good for me and I already knew it. I guess I was just kind of hanging around and hoping that he would get the point but he just doesn't want to. I know that I need to go ahead and move on but it's always hardest to be strong and do what needs to be done. Plus, I was looking for reasons to keep him around just a little bit longer but I think I'm getting tired of being disappointed. Like I said, I knew way deep down inside of me what needed to be done but I just wasn't listening. That's something I DEFINITELY need to work on... listening to myself. I appreciate the encouragement and ask that you pray for my strength. Dade County Girl. 20Oct2006 ------------------------ Fecal Jim Dear Miles, as I was using the restroom at work last week a gentleman that I had seen from time to time walked in used the urinal next to me. We really didn't know each other but we still exchanged greetings as we stood there. He finished before I did, zipped up, and walked straight out of the bathroom. Didn't wash his hands... didn't stop to grab a paper towel... nothing. As I walked back to my desk I did a little math and figured that if he used the bathroom an average of twice of a day and has been in the practice of not washing his hands afterwards then the odds of him having a pretty nasty keyboard at his desk were pretty good. I made a mental note never to borrow a pen from that guy or shake his hand. Earlier this week, I started noticing him more and more and in my area talking to people who sit around me. My problem is that I'm seeing him shaking hands with my co-workers and not only do I know where that hand has been but I know that it doesn't get cleaned after it goes there. I'm no germ-freak but I swear when I look at his hands I can see little urinal splash-back stains on them. I haven't shaken any of my co-workers hands in two days. I find myself saluting everyone around me all day long. Carmelo from the Cubicle 4563. 19Oct2007 ------------------------ Distorted Individuality Hey Miles, I rarely go downtown anymore because whenever I do it seems like that's when all of the yahoos come out. I just wanted to take a time out to write a special note to all of the guys and girls who go ridiculously out of their way to say to the world "I'm an individual. I'm different. Please look at me." Is proving that you're not like anybody else really worth the extra chain-linked piercings in your cheek and neck or the grungy man-skirt that sweeps the ground or the blue and green dyed hair-do? Is there some under lying fear of association going on? I don't get it. I can't tell if these are attempts to stand out or desperate pleas for attention. Mr. Public-Spectacle, if no one gave you or your outfit a second glance, would you still wear it? What if everyone went out and got full body tattoos and dressed like you? Would you get upset and try to stand out by wearing a neatly pressed white dress shirt and Dockers' slacks? If in 2 years your orange hair is back to it's original brown color because you found out that that kind of crap only takes you so far in the real world then you weren't being an individual... you were just going through a phase. Welcome back. I hate to break it to you but there are 5 billion souls walking the Earth and billions more that walked it before you so there's a pretty good chance that you're going to be similar to someone no matter how hard you try. The sad truth is that you were born in relative obscurity and so you shall die. If you pick up a history book I'd say that it doesn't mention more then 500 people by name. How many people do you think diesd on this Earth last week that will not have their names in a history book? Starting to see the bigger picture, Mr. Unique-Standout? Welcome back. Change your perspective. You're already an individual just being your natural self. The environment that you were raised in and your DNA combine to make you an individual like no one else. You're naturally different but when you go out of your way to prove how different you are then you start to remind me of everyone else who's already done that. Get back in line. Gabriel in Orlando. 14Oct2007 ------------------------ Fall of the Golden Girls Dear Miles, you see the footage of that grandmother shop lifting on MSNBC this morning? She was picking up stuff and handing it to her toddler granddaughter to stow away in the baby carriage. The little girl was packing the goods away like a pro! I bet whenever she saw someone coming she would just hop back in the carriage and divert their attention away from the DVD player sticking out of the back with some cute baby-talk. She's off to a great start in life. What ever happened to the wisdom of a grandmother? I guess all of that logic goes out the window as the grandmothers get younger and younger. This particular gem was probably in her early forties, pushing 250 plus, and sporting enough tattoos to try out for a punk rock band or an NBA career. She's certainly far from her golden years. TJ near SandLake. 10Oct2007 ------------------------ Deleting the Negative Dear Miles, a co-worker and I were recently discussing the negative influence that people can have on our lives. He suggested that I go through my phone and delete every person who just gives off a bad vibe. He said that he had "friends" who were just all-around negative people. Some were constant whiners, some were complainers, some were haters, and on and on. He said that whenever he would get through talking to them he would either be in a bad mood or in a worse mood then he was before he started talking to them. I laughed but then I started thinking and I realized that I had a few people like that in my life too. So I took his advice and started deleting numbers so I wouldn't be tempted to call the downers in my life. I try not to be pissy or whiney about unfavorable situations that spring up in my life. If something goes wrong then I usually just try to suck it up, get focused and make it right again. I've found that complaining only makes me feel good while I'm complaining because when I'm done complaining the problem is still right there in front of me. I feel better when I'm working towards some type of resolution. Life sucks sometimes but there are a lot of good things to talk about too. My wife is mad because I had to delete her mother's number from my phone but I told her that it was for my own well-being. Everyday isn't going to be a sunny day but I sure won't be wasting anymore sunny days talking to people who can't wait for the next rainy one. Khalid in Orlando. 8Oct2007 ------------------------ Garbage Out, Garbage In Dear Miles, I love my girls but they're always tooling around in short skirts and long heels and complaining about why they only seem to attract scumbags. I always have to ask them what are they projecting? I believe in body language Miles and that we have the power to project to guys whatever it is that we want them to know without saying a word. I love to dress up and look sexy too but I know that there are consequences for certain actions. If I'm strolling through the mall with my goods out and dangling in front of these simple minded guys then naturally more fish are going to try to bite. But most of the time I don't get bothered by dirt bags because they feel like I project a "don't mess with me" kind of vibe. I usually just smile because they're exactly right. I don't want to be bothered by their nonsense and so I make a concious effort to project that with how I dress and act. The dirt bags get mad because I'm unattainable and start to call me things like "stuck up bitch" or "ho" but do I really care about impressing some guy who's calling me bad names before he even knows me? I think not. I'm comfortable with myself, Miles. I love myself and all of my flaws and I think that projects itself as well. I try to stay in high spirits and away from nonsense and so I tend to attract guys who are more like-minded. I'm not saying that I've got Mr. Rights lining up outside my door but I meet a lot of quality guys. Insecurity, self-hatred, self-doubt; all of that gets projected to the world everyday. For example, one of my girls is always flaunting her cleavage because she likes the attention that it gets her but she complains because a large percentage of it is negative attention. I tell her that her public breasts are just a symptom of her desire for attention. She's projecting "I'm needy for attention" and that's exactly what people pick up on. She's holding entire conversations with guys before she even opens her mouth. We all are. I try to project good energy outwards and for the most part that's what I get back. Love your column :) Miss Tia. 2Oct2007 ------------------------ The Benefit Mack Miles, tell me why young broads can be so dumb sometimes. When I roll up on a young chick in the club all I hear is how she needs a thug in her life. I just roll my eyes and keep on moving. You mean to tell me that she actually wants someone who might beat on her, use her to pay his bail every Saturday night, or get her pregnant and then act like he lost her number? They're sad and stupid because all they see is what's right in front of their silly little faces. That's why I only holla at grown women, Miles. They know better then to fall for some clown with a gimp leg and a removable ice grille. I roll up in the club on grown folks night with my insurance card on a piece of string around my neck. Yes sir! After these jobless duds get shot down by a pretty woman I walk up to her and let her get a peek at my benefits package. Yeah mami, I got dental coverage too! See Miles, a real woman knows what matters and some scrub with a phat chain but no 9 to 5 isn't going to help her out much. I roll up on her at the bar, let her know that my insurance pays for my visits to the eye doctor, and viola! I've got her! My watch might not be the brightest in the club that night but my teeth sure are after a free trip to the dentist! My name is Steven but you can call me Milky because that's how my game is. The Milk Man in Orlando. 24Sep2007 ------------------------ Cyber Dogs Dear Miles, while I certainly wouldn't consider myself to be an online dater of any sort, I'm always open to the possibilities of finding love anywhere. The only problem with browsing profiles and bios of guys online is that they've had much more time to craft their stories and information. It's easier to be a casanova or come off as Mr. Perfect when you can review and edit the material again and again before it's posted. But even with this in mind, guys will be guys. No matter if they're in your face or in cyber space, if he's a jerk or a dog then there's always some tell tale sign... a girl just has to know what to look for. Case in point: I came across a cute guys bio the other day. As I read it I will admit that I was quite impressed with what he had to say. He was talking about how he didn't want any drama in a relationship, how he only cared to be with a real lady, how he definitely wasn't interested in sexual relations, and about how he adored picnics, candlelight dinners and going dancing. It all sounded absolutely fantastic until I noticed some of his other information. His bio said that he had 3 children (all of which he allegedly loved to death) but he was listed as single. It didn't say how many baby-mommas he was dealing with but I reasoned that whoever this girl (or girls) was, she obviously wasn't regarded highly enough to be considered a life partner. Furthermore, if it was only one girl that he didn't really care for, shouldn't he have learned his lesson after the first kid? My dog sensor was starting to go crazy, Miles. The icing on the cake came when I went to his photo gallery and saw him proudly posing in one of his pictures with a beer in his hand and a t-shirt on that read "I Eat P---- !". Maybe I'm just a picky kind of girl but all of his sweet, romantic words just went out the window when I saw him with a shirt on that proclaimed his drunken love for consuming a female's treasure. And even if that was the real him, why post the picture online and contradict all of those lovely words. What a dog, Miles… and apparently not too smart either. Are there good guys online? Of course there are just like there are good girls online (like me!). But just like in the real world, a girl has to keep her dog sensor finely tuned because cyberspace is littered with crap too. Karen from the dating pool. 22Sep2007 ------------------------ Still The Man 2 Wassup Miles, caught Greenspan on 60 Minutes last night and I think I'm even more of a fan now then ever. They talked about his younger days and described how he was always drawn to market spreadsheets and statistics. While many of his musician buddies were smoking and clowning inbetween music sets he would be looking over data from British financial markets. He even spent his honeymoon at a monetary convention! What a freakin' nerd! lol. But honestly, his choice of subject matter is irrelevant. What's important is that he did what he loved to do and did not let peer pressure (or wife pressure for that matter) deter him from his passions. Once again, the subject matter may be a little off center, but his pursuit of his hobbies is no different from the sports junkie or the oil canvas artist. He was fortunate to be able to make a comfortable living off of his passion but I have a sneaking suspicion that he'd be crunching financial and economic data even if only in his spare time. Do what makes you happiest, Miles. P.S. I planted that corn field I told you about. Can't quite make ethanol fuel but the cobs sure come in handy during barbeques. Alan Fan in Maitland. 17Sep2007 ------------------------ The Beautiful Pain Dear Miles, even if I could properly break it down you probably still wouldn't believe me. It's like a gift and a curse rolled into one. Sometimes I hate it because it can open so many doors and sometimes I love it because it can open so many doors. No matter where I go, it draws attention and I guess that can be well and good but I'm not one for being on show. I try to be receiving and gracious to it all but sometimes it's just too much. On my job I get emails about nothing at all from the timid and drop-bys or coincidental run-ins from the arrogant. On the street I hear the whispers of the envious and get harassed by the over-stimulated. Everyone thinks that they have a shot and I always have to wonder why they try. It makes me suspicious of everything and everybody. I try not to let the gift and the curse phase or sway me but it's affecting the reality around me and this can makes it difficult to maintain self. Rose Mary in the sky. 14Sep2007 ------------------------ The Meat Scenario Miles I've had it with these tree hugging animal whorshiping yahoos whining and moaning about what the rest of us should do with our lives. The left-wing panzees must have their own blasted Senator because I can't even go into my favorite diner and order a burger without having to hear about the health or environmental consequences. Im very aware that when I order an extra triple burger deluxe with cheese that it's not the healthiest thing on earth but I don't care! Newsflash hippies: everything is bad for you if you over do it! I ordered a burger the other day and when it came this skrawny tree-hugger sitting next to me looked at the huge slab of succulent ground chuck and scoffed as if my sandwich was offending him! I wanted to throw him and the little tofu salad he was eating across the bar! The panzees have united and drawn their line in the sand so now someone needs to stand up for the other side. We have to let them know that we will eat any and all of God's delicious creatures. Our Creator placed them here for our enjoyment and I'll be damned to hell if I do not. We will stand and we will unite! For every tree-hugging lightweight that throws their nose in the air at a meat-lover such as myself I personally vow to eat that much more meat. Yes. Everytime I see them passing on an all-American frank for some all natural soy-based simulated hot dog I will order an extra hot dog or hamburger just to kill the cow or pig that they thought they spared. We've got to take our diets our lives and our country out of the hands of these over-sensitized soy-farters and put it back where it belongs. Please print this letter because it needs to be heard and the word needs to be spread. These freaks are slapping God in the face and I will not tolerate it any more! God bless America. Rob the Ironman. 14Sep2007 ------------------------ Someone Not Like Me Hey Miles. Try walking up to someone single and asking them "would you date yourself"? The question is could they see themselves in a relationship with someone who had the exact same personality as themselves. I'll bet dollars to doughnuts that the person will make a weird face and answer that they could never date themselves. They may not go as far as to say that they want their opposite (be opposites are allegedly supposed to attract) but they may say something along the lines of how they want a mate who's different then they are. So then what happens when they get such a relationship? They bicker, of course. Why? Because they are with someone who thinks and acts differently then they do. So when your partner doesn't see things the way that you do it's probably going to cause more conflict then good. Sure there are some folks out there who are progressive enough to embrace the different perspectives that their opposites bring to the table but by and large I'd say that most people will fight to maintain their way of thinking and behaving. So why on earth would they want someone who's wired differently when those very differences will lead to arguments? And what exactly are they saying about their own characteristics? Are they saying that they're lacking in certain areas and they need someone else to make up for their "deficiencies"? Are they that impossible to deal with that they wouldn't even want to deal with themselves? If you know what your faults are (as most of us do) and that you would not want to deal with those faults in a mate then why not change the faults? At the risk of sounding like a self-absorbed prick, I'm going to step out on a limb and say that I love myself and alot of stuff about me and that I'd love to be in a relationship with someone just like me. I don't need another person to pull certain things out of me, motivate me, or challenge me because I can do that myself. I think I'll take someone operating on my wavelength and cut back on the silly arguments that can probably never be resolved because opposites really repel. It's not physics, it's people. Shay in Lake Nona. 12Sep2007 ------------------------ The Ms. Fire Scenario Wassup Miles. Let's call her Ms. Fire. She's always ready for a battle, she has a short fuse and can blow at any moment. Her ways and her actions can seem somewhat odd at times but don't you dare question her about it because you will receive nothing short of a tongue lashing. Let's call her Ms. Momentum. She's a freight train picking up speed and becoming more dangerous by the foot. Her boyfriends stumble into her beautiful pastures and do not realize that they're treading on minefields until its too late. They're drawn into petty meaningless squabbles or vicious biting arguments and much sooner then later they're looking to say or do whatever would cause her the most harm because her fire burns hot and her momentum is unyielding. Their actions scorn her and only unleash more fuel for burning and so the cycle goes. She never looks to the source of her flame because research takes time and eruptions bring instant gratification. One day Miles, after years of viciousness she realizes that she's tired and that being in a constant state of battle-readiness has taken its toll. She looks back at the trail of cinder and rubble that was her youth and sees that too much time has been wasted. The beauty has varnished and the pastured have dried. Perhaps the right suitor could've negotiated a cease-fire long enough for her to dive into her ways and actions but such a critical dependence on an unidentified person would be foolish. So her battles raged on, her fires burned deep, her momentum spared no man, and instead of fighting the greatest civil war she turned her fury to the world. During the whole war something never felt quite right but all she knew to do was fight. Willow. 7Sep2007 ------------------------ Spiritual Blinders Dear Miles, I recently spoke with a young woman who is going through some trying times. She's been unable to hold down a steady job, she's moved five times in the last two years, she's gotten herself into a few bad financial situations, and all the little close calls in life just haven't seemed to go her way lately. She is probably one of the kindest and sweetest people that I know but she can be spacey at times and I'm always sensing a feeling of uncertainty coming from her. She invited me over to her apartment one day and as I walked through I started noticing that she had quite a large collection of books on spiritual guidance and self-help. I had already known that she was a very spiritual person because she was always telling me about her church activities and inviting me to attend religious seminars with her but I was puzzled and somewhat troubled by the sheer volume of material that she had amassed. As we spoke more she told me of how everyday of her life was a constant struggle to get closer to finding God, of how she fasted and prayed several times a day, and of how the strict, disciplined faith-based regiment that she had established for herself was keeping her calm in the midst of her personal storms. I then began to ask her about her financial, personal, and relationship struggles and noticed an immediate shift in demeanor. As I listened to the tales of her life, the roots of many of her current problems started to reveal themselves. There was no conflict resolution, no sense of prioritization, no focus. Although her spiritual regiment was highly disciplined that same fervor and progressive attitude did not translate over to other areas of her life. Instead of taking time to think things through, plan, organize and follow thru, everything was turned over to God. She was surrendering her everyday responsibilities over to her faith and whenever bills got too high, or relationships got complicated, or situations got hard to deal with she would just brush them off and return to her spiritual safety zone. I know that this earth is not our final destination and that God has called for our faith but at what point does one become too spiritual? She saw her life's trials and tribulations as a continuous test of her faith and so instead of developing the skills to fight and tackle the situations head-on she would opt to pray her troubles away. I need to find a way to let her know that all of her battles are not sent from the hand of God. Sometimes we brew our own storms. Shawna in Orlando. 24Aug2007 ------------------------ I Hate U, Miles 10 Miles, you're such a typical male. Why does it not surprise me that of all the letters you receive that you'd post one about being a cheap skate at proposal time? That guy Rob who wrote The Flawless Diamond letter doesn't love his girlfriend at all. She's the one he has to make happy. She's the one who will have to look at it everyday. So why not give her what she wants? I suppose he would be happy if he could just get her a silver band. Newsflash Gemini Rob: it's not about you! It's about her! If she wants to shine then let her shine! That's who she is and that's what she wants so pull your arms out of your tight little pockets and make it happen for her. Miles, you're a sad, little man for posting trash like that. Stop acting like penny-pinching cowards and start being real men! Caroline in Baldwin Park. 24Aug2007 ------------------------ The Flawless Diamond Dear Miles, I've been with my girl for about 2 years and it's looking like proposal time is right around the corner. She's a good woman and all but I know she expects some ridiculously over-the-top ring to show off over at the henhouse. Everytime were watching tv and one of those flawless diamond commercials comes on she squeezes my arm a little. Miles, the price tag on that thing sure isn't flawless. If it's truely flawless then that over-glorified piece of glass better insure that I'm nag-free for the next 20 years, that I can watch all of my Monday Night Football games in peace, and that I don't have to spend more then 2 hours at a time in the presence of her high and mighty mother. What ever happened the symbolism behind the rings? I thought regardless of the size it was supposed to be about my committment to her forever? Now it's just a down payment on a house that fits on her finger and makes her friends drool. I guess I'll just have to depend on love to get me through the 5 months of overtime that it'll take to pay the diamond off. Ain't it grand? Gemini Rob from the ring counter. 22Aug2007 ------------------------ Fire In The Hole Dear Miles, I had heard about the "fire in the hole" pranks and seen a couple of videos on YouTube but I never thought I would actually witness one live. Yesterday I was at a well-known burger place (they don't need any extra publicity) and was standing near the front counter waiting on my order. Suddenly, I heard someone yelling "fire in the hole" and as I turned towards the drive-thru window area everything just seemed to slow down Matrix-style. The drive-thru server was swiftly pivoting to the side of the window just in time to avoid the shower of lemon soda and ice that came streaming in from the outside. Before the beverage had even hit the ground I could hear the laughter of the pranksters and the squealing of tires as they began to peel off. The drive-thru server, still in motion from avoiding the carbonated-liquid onslaught, yelled some type of audible to another worker who was out in the dining area wiping down tables. The table wiper immediately threw her damp wash-cloth down and was sprinting towards the front door where she repeated the audible to yet another employee who was posted outside on window-washing duty. The audible had to have been some type of code word because the window washer dropped his sponge and started moving towards the street. I could see the driver and his passenger laughing hysterically as they accelerated through the drive-thru lane and around the front of the restaurant towards the window washer. As the window washer moved he reached inside of his brightly colored server's apron, pulled out a small high powered paintball gun, and started unloading rounds at the vehicle. The white paint blobs flew through the air with remarkable accuracy and splattered the driver-side door and body. As the car sped past the window washer ran to the middle of the road and kept squeezing off shots in the wake of the vehicle. I had never witnessed such a well-planned urban counter-offensive and I was even more impressed when I found out that paint balls weren't just white paint but rather a home-blended, acidic concoction for removing automobile paint. Brilliant. Dave in Orlando. 20Aug2007 ------------------------ The Got-Money Scenario Dear Miles, so it seems that everyone in the rat race just needs a little more money to achieve mental and financial nirvana. The common saying sure sounds plausible when blue collars all over this great land utter it: "If I were making just a little bit more... everything would be alright." But somehow I doubt it. Suppose John Quincy Public suddenly started getting an extra 700 dollars a month. As of last week, his living situation was stable but paying for the mortgage, 2 car notes, insurance, day care, etc. all just seemed to keep him from being in a comfortable zone financially. He was covering his bills but just barely. While the extra 700 could certainly help good ol' Johnny get over the hump and slide into an easy realm of existence it would not and the reason for this is as fundamental to mankind as eating and crapping: it's never enough. Good ol' Johnny would probably use the extra 700 smackers to pay off a few stray bills but after a while he'd look around and decide that he could use the extra cash to buy a fancier car, or order that premium 24 hour football channel that Mrs. Public said that he could not have, or put the kids in that well-to-do day care institution that guarantees they'll be entrepreneurs by puberty. Keep in mind that had he not received his sudden financial upgrade he would've continued to be content with his fully functioning old car, watching football on Sunday, and keeping his kids in their current day care. The moral of this story is that for the vast majority of John Publics getting more money will only mean spending more money. Debts will get paid but new debts will be incurred and so on the cycle will go. More money more problems, right? And I bet you thought that was just a catchy song. It will never be enough. Will in Orlando. 10Aug2007 ------------------------ 756 Hi Miles. Love him or hate him, you have to respect what Mr. Bonds is doing. I don't think that they'll put an asterisk next to his name anywhere. If you really stop and think about it, isn't everyone using some type of performance enhancer? Everything from prescribed human growth hormone to over-the-counter, concentrated Vitamin C tablets can be considered "performance enhancing". I'm not condoning the usage of substances deemed illegal by MLB but where do we draw the line with substances that aren't illegal? Medicine has evolved considerably since the days of the great Hank Aaron and so I certainly wouldn't say that the playing field is level but the simple fact is that we now have products and programs that make our athletes heal faster, build more muscle, and stay on the field longer. And even if Barry was on the juice don't you think that a large number of the pitchers that he faced would be as well? Let's face facts, he's the greatest of our time and is certainly the home run king of baseball... until A-Rod catches him. Sheryll at home plate. 8Aug2007 Wassup Miles, I'll tip my hat to Barry Bonds any day of the week for his accomplishment but his journey pales in comparison to that of Hank Aaron. For the past decade or so Bonds has had a hard enough time dealing with the relentless media cameras in his face. How do you think he would hold if his life was threatened everytime he stepped to the plate? With every long ball that brought Hank Aaron closer to smashing the home run record of America's beloved Babe Ruth, he became more and more hated. It takes a special kind of individual to endure that type of pressure, degradation, and cruelty and not only perform well but rise to greatness. Long live the legacy and courage of Hank Aaron. Jackie in Richmond Heights. 8Aug2007 ------------------------ Demon House Dear Miles, do you believe in paranormal activity? I'm talking ghosts and spirits and demons and what not. I'm sure you've heard about how they may roam houses, making noises and spooking unsuspecting families but do you think that they do general maintenence work as well? A woman that I'm interested in lives in a house where appliances that break always seem to magically fix themselves. I was over there last week and she was complaining about how her dishwasher was broken again. I went over 2 days ago and all of sudden it's back running like a champ. I asked her when did a repairman come by and she said she never hired one. Shocked, I asked her what she did to make it work and her reply was that she just didn't use it for a couple of days. Now I'm no computer-science guru but I'm pretty sure Kenmore hasn't quite mastered nano-technology and figured out how to build self-repairing home appliances. She said that it had occured before and that the same kind of thing has happened with her air conditioner, oven, and a leaky faucet. I was amazed, puzzled, and scared all at once. So the very idea that she can just leave broken things alone, come back and have them working again suggests that either she's got some kind of appliance savvy demons swirling around her as she sleeps or she's secretly banging her handy-man. Either way, things don't look too inviting for me over there. Julius in Rosemont. 7Aug2007 ------------------------ Friends and Foes Dear Miles, please please please tell me why my girl is always taking relationship advice from her broke friends who couldn't get keep a man if they paid one. I mean, we have disputes and arguments over the same stuff that 98 percent of all other couples do and we usually work things out but then she starts talking with her friends and all of a sudden I'm the worst guy in the world. Those jackels are always asking her about our business and filling her head with nonsense about what a real relationship is like. I just want to ask them what the hell do they know about a relationship when none of them have ever even seen a long-term committment. All they do is gossip and bring drama to other people's households. I've been trying to tell my girl about them but she always goes on the defensive. It's like taking financial advice from someone $30,000 in debt and still sinking. I'm so sick of minor disputes with her escalating into wars with her envious friends. Some people are a cancer and need to be cut out of our lives. Battle-Weary Shawn in Orlando. 22Jul2007 ------------------------ It's Not All Hate Hi Miles. My friend mentioned your column to me a while back and I just recently stumbled upon it. Since then I've become a very big fan. I was watching TV last night and I saw a reference to your column in the credits of a show. I was ecstatic and hopped off of my couch because the little column that I adore was getting some big time recognition. That had to have been a dream for you right? Whatever it is that you're saying (or not) that stirs these responses and pulls the best (and worst) out of people, keep it up. I wish you much success. Debbie in College Park. 21Jul2007 ------------------------ The Wyoming Contingency Hey Miles, did you see on the news that Bush is going to be having a procedure done soon that will put him under for a few hours? That means that Cheney will be President of the United States until they revive Bush. All I can say that these nations better watch out because Cheney could have an invasion organized and underway in 15 minutes flat! No joke. Any country that he doesn't like or that has not signed some kind of distribution deal with Haliburton better start stock-pilling today. Attention rouge nations: you've probably got WMDs buried somewhere in your nation so prepare to be liberated. Jaime in Winter Springs. 20Jul2007 ------------------------ Have the Quarter Ready Dear Miles, people piss me off alot. It's not that I have a short fuse or am easily angered but I guess I just get upset with incompotence and I see incompotence alot nowanddays. Case in point, everyday I take the toll road to work and everyday I see the same lazy toll-booth attendant named Fredrico. Fredrico seems like a nice enough guy and handing back change from a toll-booth seems like a simple enough task but this idiot seems to get worse and worse at it everytime I pass through his lane. When a car pulls up all he has to do is take their friggin' dollar and hand them back a quarter but this trivial tasks seems to require quite a bit of thought on the part of Fredrico despite the fact that he does it 40 thousand times a day. He takes the dollar, holds it up to the light, digs in his register for a quarter, checks the quarter in his hand to verify that it is indeed a quarter and not some malicious rogue nickel, gives the quarter to the driver and then asks if the driver wants a receipt... all at a leisurely, nonchalant pace. Sweet merciful heavens, sometimes I just want to choke him. As I approach the toll plaza I always know right away that he's on duty because his toll lane always has 7 to 10 extra cars in it. Whenever I pull up to his window I cringe when I don't have exact change because I know that he'll be in no particular hurry to give me a blasted quarter back for my dollar. Doesn't he realize that people have places to be? On one particular occassion as I sat with my window down and watched him lazily dig through his register for an errant quarter my disgust got the best of me. I exploded and asked him with less-then-pleasant words why does this process always have to take so long. He calmly looked at me and replied that he was doing the best that he could. I was beyond my limit as I yelled back at him "No, you're not doing you're best. You're doing a horrible job!" He was surprised by my revelation. "Don't you see how slow your line always is? Doesn't that bother you? Are you stupid or do you just not give a damn? You could double your efficieny and production by simply having a quarter ready when someone pulls up. Just have the quarter ready!" I guess what really hurts my heart during times like that is when I see people who just don't care about what they're doing. At the risk of dating myself I'm going to go ahead and say that people just don't have any pride in what they do. When I was growing up, it didn't matter if I was going to run an accounting firm or buff floors at Winn-Dixie, my father taught me to take pride in my work. If I was bagging groceries then I was breed to be the best grocery bagger in the store. You never know who could be watching you do a trivial task, appreciate your work ethic, respect your dedication, and want to offer you a better position. I know that handing out quarters isn't the most glamourous thing for Fredrico to spend his day doing but it's his job! Have some blasted pride in yourself and what you do. People are weak, over-senstitive and just plain lazy. Pride and hard work used to be the standard and now they cost extra and in many cases aren't even available. People just want to do whatever it takes to get by and get that dollar while never realizing that going above and beyond average could lead to more dollars. Just have the quarter ready. Strive to do better. I wasn't just yelling at Fredrico, I was giving him a philosophy to get ahead. Just have the friggin' quarter ready. The Bigger Kay in Orlando. 14Jul2007 ------------------------ Queer As Folk Dear Miles, I run a small restaurant downtown and often serve some of my church members breakfast. Last Sunday, two rather distraught deaconesses approached me at the bar and called my attention to a homosexual couple that had walked in and sat at one of the boothes. The two gentlemen weren't doing anything outrageous but they were holding hands while they perused the menu. One of the deaconesses looked at me in disgust and asked if I was going to tolerate that type of indecency in my restaurant. The second deaconess chimed in with equal disdain asking me how I could allow their kind to eat in a Christian-owned establishment. I smiled at the older African-American women and asked if they could remember a time not too long ago when our kind weren't allowed to eat in restaurants like mine. One of the women quickly took offense and reminded me that this was different because God says that homosexuality is wrong. I asked her if religious beliefs should dictate who should be allowed to eat. She instinctively wanted to fire an emphatic "yes" at me but she caught herself. I asked her how can we who have been perceived as "different" for centuries now decide that we want to limit the rights of another group who we perceive as as "different"? Yes, homosexuality is against the faith of the masses but so was allowing blacks to read 100 years ago. Religious conviction does not warrant the denial of basic civil liberties. I personally don't agree with men kissing men but if I deny a gay person his or her civil rights then how am I any better then "Massa"? The deaconesses scoffed when I told them this and stormed out my restaurant. They didn't even leave a tip. Go figure. Curtiss in Orlando. 10Jul2007 ------------------------ The Middle-East Pill Hey Miles, looks like the Brits have quite a little situation brewing on their hands. The Islam extemists are right in their backyards and protesting in front of their churches. That movement is the perfect outlet for frustrated young men who are tired of being subjected to second-class treatment. If you were a young man with nothing to lose in a land where no bright future was promised to you because you were different wouldn't you too want to cling to some type of cause for change... no matter how aggressive or extreme it's doctrine? My question is would those same youths be as outraged if they were presented with oppotunities to work and build a comfortable future for themselves and a family. I think the same type of theory could apply to young black males here in the states. If some type of cause were set up that posed an avenue for revolution would they not enlist themselves? So what would happen if we were to get out of the Middle-East permanently. Or in other words, what if we didn't need their oil anymore? I constantly hear about how the Western influence is ruining the fabric of their culture... so what if we were to suddenly stop funneling billions to buy all of that oil, become self-sufficient, and leave them alone? Do you think that would make them happy? Or would we be hated for not providing financial aide to their countries? We seem to have everything in pill form nowanddays. Why don't we just create an Anti-Social-Anxiety and Unrest Pill? Young seperatist/rebellious movement participants can take 2 a day and gradually find themselves mellowing out and eventually becoming okay with their socio-economic status. Sounds like a winner to me. Patent-pending. Ron G. in Winter Park. 30Jun2007 ------------------------ Spring Loaded Discipline Dear Miles, you hear that news story about the parents who had a mis-communication and ended up leaving their kid outside of a ride at Disney? Apperantly the poor little tyke got over-heated and so now mommy and daddy are in some real trouble. I can't shake my finger at them too sternly because I little high-octane, hellion of my own and I understand how easy it can be to loose track of them. Thank heavens I spent $24.95 on one of those Kid Bungee Leeshes. I swear that little invention has kept my son from taking off and me out of the DCF offices. Whenever we go somewhere he just gets hyper and over excited. The second I remove him from his stroller his legs instinctively start cycling and as he gets closer to the ground their rotation gets faster so that he can shoot off as soon as he touches down. This used to bug me but now my Kid Bungee attaches a 20 foot bungee cord to a harness on his chest so that when he wiggles free of my grasp and takes off running all I have to do is yank on the cord and his forward momentum comes to a screeching hault. Trips to Disney are no longer a problem for me. I give him the freedom to roam for about 10 to 15 feet and then when it's time for me to move on I just give a quick tug and his little butt is snapped right back to my side. It's a beautiful thing. When will these parent's smarten up? Walter in Bithlo. 29Jun2007 ------------------------ Sex in Heaven Dear Miles, I've been a fan of your column for some time now and when I read your "Sex In Heaven?" article I felt compelled to write you a response. Of course there's no sex in heaven, why would we need it? The desire to have sex is like the lust to drive a Porsche or the craving for a piece of strawberry cheesecake. It's a material urge that we have because it hits some pleasure spot somewhere in our brain. I certainly don't think that we'll need to copulate in heaven so sex would be nothing more then a fun thing to do. But would we really need to engage in "fun" acts to hit the pleasure spots in our brains? What would happen if that pleasure spot wasn't getting hit as often as we liked? Or what would happen if someone saw that his heavenly neighbor's pleasure spot was getting hit more then his own? Now we've introduced envy and jealousy into the picture because everybody would want to be equally as happy. So the trite and ultimately meaningless, self-gratifying desires that we have here on earth should have no place in heaven because then it would just be another earth and we've already screwed that up. Hopefully, we'll be too occupied with praising God to worry about whether or not we're getting some behind the pearly gates. Sharon in Mount Dora. 28Jun2007 Miles, just read your column. Interesting topic. There better be sex up in heaven, man. I'd hate to think of all those cute, toga-clad angels flying around and me not being able to be with one. lol. Plus, think of all the beautiful women here on earth who had evil husbands. Those guys went to hell so someone's gotta show the widows some love. Peace, man. Brian in Port Orange. 28Jun2007 Dear Miles, I would like to believe that there will be sex in Heaven if that's what your heart desires. Isn't Heaven the ultimate reward for a life of misery on Earth? Why wouldn't paradise be an eternity of whatever brings you happiness? I think that Heaven will be different for every soul that inhabits it because every soul is made happy by something different. I see happiness as the little things that barely find time to do but bring us unparalleled joy. I love to sew and create things so why couldn't some of my days in Heaven be spent creating beautiful garments and such? Some people love cars, some love animals and some love to love. So to answer your question: yes, Heaven will have for each of us that which makes us truely happy. Annette in Orlando. 27Jun2007 ------------------------ Autotherapy Sup’ Miles. Are you tired of people not listening to your ideas and opinions? Do you need a shoulder to cry on but feel that no one truly cares or wants to listen to what you have to say? Can't afford a therapist? Allow me to make a simple suggestion before hurling yourself off of a bridge. Drive to a car dealership and talk to a salesman. You see, most car salesmen and women are so desperate for a sale that they'll put up with almost anything that you have to say. As long as you're perusing the lot and stopping occasionally to look at the bright neon price stickers in the window of some gas-guzzling SUV they'll follow right behind you and happily listen to your every heart's desire. The bigger your dilemma in life, the bigger/pricier the vehicles that you need to look at. If you tell them that you'll be paying for the new car in cash they may even pull a couch out to make you a little more comfortable while you vent. Nothing compares to the words of wisdom delivered from a man who thinks he's about to make the sale of his lifetime. After you've had your fill of attention and they've got a huge contract drafted and ready for your signature just tell them that you'll need to go home and sleep on their offer and then be on your merry way. Fred in New Smyrna. 16Jun2007 ------------------------ Good Now Or Forever Dear Miles, I love my boyfriend to no end but I feel as though we are moving beyond each other. I would never consider myself to be a preacher by any means but I am a very spiritual person. He respects my faith and is always courteous and mindful when around me but he's got his vices and he does not want to give them up. He drinks on occasion and smokes pretty regularly. I know that most people would not consider these to be bad traits but I used to struggle with both of those issues and so I no longer want to associate myself with that element. In addition to this, I've really been striving to keep my body pure and free of all those physical and mental poisons. My girlfriends think I'm crazy for jeopardizing a good thing and a walking away from a good man but I guess I can't help how I feel. The love is there but to be honest it's like I'm being pulled back and I made a vow to myself that I would only look forward. I feel as if I'm being forced to choose. I can either indulge in his vices now and suffer for my lack of obedience later or I can suffer now and be rewarded later. It's hard because he's so fantastic but at the same time my soul needs something greater and it will not let me settle. As he has tried to adapt to my needs I have also tried to adapt to accommodate him and it just didn't sit right with me deep down inside. All I have is the Spirit to guide me and I feel I must follow. I hate to let him go but I have to move on with strength and knowledge that my faith will deliver something greater to me. I keep telling myself that eternity is a long time to pay for simple indulgence. Write me back when you find time and let me know that I'm doing the right thing. Brianna in Orlando. 8Jun2007 ------------------------ Cubeland 3 Dear Miles, the cubicle walls on my job are about 6 feet high so unless you're in the six-footer's club you can usually trick yourself into thinking that you actually have privacy while you're sitting at your desk. Naturally, you can still hear the keyboard pecking and the occasional sigh of hopelessness coming from your unseen neighbor but the human brain is a selfish and crafty creature that eventually tunes these noises out and convinces itself that it is in absolute solitude. But every so often your neighbor will make a sound that is out of the ordinary or do something that may warrant a response and it throws your brain into a tailspin. For example, when someone over the wall sneezes the courteous brain instinctively wants to say "bless you". This thought in itself sends the brain into a state of wonder about the time-space continuum as it struggles to see the point of saying "bless you" when it's in absolute solitude. Furthermore, if it was in absolute solitude then how did it hear the sneeze in the first place? Heaven forbid, your neighbor should actually try to engage you in conversation over the wall. The brain hears a recognizable voice but the speaker phone is not on and no one is in your cube so theoretically the voice should not exist. Thus, the voice that just asked you "when are the expense reports due" is the result of some type of improbable distortion in the fabric of reality. At the end of everyday, your mind is worn out from toggling between its perceived realm of solitude and the awkward realization that another human being is sitting 2 feet away from your face and would probably be staring right at you if it weren't for the 6 foot tall padded divider. Cheers. Kyle from Cubicle #1025. 6Jun2007 ------------------------ Can U Hear Me Now 2 Miles, I've been a Verizon loyalist for a while but with the flurry of competition in the wireless market I started thinking that now would be a good time to switch carriers. Obviously, I wasn't going to settle for anything that offered equal or less then my current package (otherwise, what would be the point of switching?). I'd been talking to some of the Cingular reps because I had heard about a promising minutes package that they offered but they told me that that particular package was no longer available. Needless to say, I was kind of disappointed. But the strange part was that for some reason they felt compelled to tell me more about how great the package was and how happy their customers were when it was available. It was weird because the sales guy would show me one of the new plans (which seemed relatively decent) and yet continue to tease me with stories of how much better the old plan was. It's almost like he knew that I had only a moderate interest in the new packages and was trying to reel me in with grand tales of what I really wanted but could no longer have. It was a very frustrating ordeal because he was intentionally trying to sell the unattainable past. I guess he was just trying to make a sale but the simple truth is that if their current plans aren't good enough on their own merit then why try to sugar coat them? They've got millions upon millions of customers so clearly if I didn't like their deals then their were plenty more who would. They should either come up with a better minutes plan package or just accept the customer loss. Curtis in Kissimmee. 24May2007 ------------------------ The Speculators Dear Miles, probably the only thing worse then a hater is a speculator. Most haters can’t seem to hide their envy or jealousy or whatever else it is that drives their hatred so you can pretty much always tell one when you see one. With speculators you can never really tell how far off their speculation has taken them until you inadvertently stumble upon it in conversation and by that time they’ve usually gone too far. Speculators are dangerous because instead of just confronting the person or issue they’re speculating on they find it easier to just make up their own assumptions and call it a day. This policy would only work if individuals could draw together facts and information with little to no bias. Most people cannot. When speculators gather evidence, it’s automatically slanted one way. Their way. Worse still is the tendency of speculators to speculate until assumption is truth in their minds. They grow comfortable in their new found truth and are genuinely surprised and sometimes even shocked when actually presented with reality. Of course, speculation is a curable disease but treatment can be very expensive as it requires people to step out of their comfort zones, confront, and look for the truth. Rooted in arrogance, laziness or sheer cowardess, speculation takes a toll on the lives of millions everyday. It could probably be stamped out if a collective effort was made to stop making horrible, self-gratifying assumptions but that would require effort and that resource seems to be an under-appreciated commodity. Cheers Steven from Miami. 21May2007 ------------------------ Mr. Tiffany Dear Miles, I call him Mr. Tiffany because when they get married he'll probably take her last name. When they go out he's always 2 steps behind and his head never seems to point in the direction that they're going. I call him Mr. Tiffany because he's just an extension of her. Mr. Supplement maybe. She used to have to push and tell him what to do. Now he needs to be pulled and he just asks. He smiles with a flare that only exudes itself when she's not around and when she is his smiles look like hers. I call him Mr. Tiffany because she answers his phone and takes his messages all before his answering machine catches the calls and plays a greeting that she recorded for him. And if she doesn't feel like it's a message that he should be concerned about then she simply doesn't relay it to him. I call him Mr. Tiffany because she snaps on him when she thinks another woman is looking in his direction, because their conversations are really lectures and because guys night out is him sneaking into the living room and catching the first quarter of his favorite team's game while she's in the shower. I call him Mr. Tifany and he smiles and answers me everytime. The Deuce in Altamonte Springs. 18May2007 ------------------------ Management 101 Dear Miles, ever since I got out of school I've been studying the big wigs on my job and learning what it takes to be a true boss. Here're some of the major techniques that I've gathered thus far. 1) Say things with authority. Most people aren't listening for if you're right or wrong. All that conveys is how you say stuff. If you can spout off about something you know nothing about and make it sound as right as the good Lord's Gospels then factual validity is merely an after thought. 2) Intimidate. If someone is shorter then you then stand disturbing close to them and stare menacingly at them while they talk. Laugh excessively loud at jokes (especially at your own jokes) and then stop abruptly and give a serious face as if you're already thinking about something else more important. Always point directly at people that you're talking to and about. 3) Pick the brains of really smart co-workers and then present minor variations of their ideas to management. Remember that most brainiacs are non-confrontational, so even if the clever co-worker hears you taking credit for his idea he probably won't call you out on it. 4) Never admit that you're wrong. Good bosses are masters at doing complete 180s. If you swore that something wouldn't work and it worked then you boldly applaud yourself for predicting that it would work. These are just a few of my observations, Miles. I've already started applying some of these techniques and I'm already up for my first promotion. Some people rise for a reason. Daniel E. from the Ivory Towers. 11May2007 ------------------------ Great Expectations Dear Miles, I loved your article on first date expectations but I admit I find it hard to believe that you aren’t expecting to get some after a great first date. You are a guy right? After my last first date the guy took me home and just kinda stood around awkwardly on my front porch after I gave him a friendly good night kiss. I guess the fool was expecting to come inside or something just because he bought me dinner but I wasn’t having it. The catfish wasn’t even all that fresh. I knew what he was about so I didn’t feel bad about slamming the door in his face and turning off the porch light… while he was still out there. Sometimes it just seems like you guys are all the same. Or maybe I just attract the wrong group of numbskulls. Kimberly in Skeptic City. 4May2007 Sup Miles. I'm just being honest man, if I take a broad out to some fancy smancy dinner or opera or whatever I'm expecting to get more at the end of the night then a hearty handshake, buddy. You're stupid not to man, that's just how it goes. You mean to tell me that women can expect for me to wine and dine them, entertain them, shower them with praise, and not think that they have to do anything? How retarded is that? Where's my reward? These broads always come with their hands out but when I put my hand out I get called a jerk. Does that seem fair to you? I told one girl that if she didn't expect me to want anything then maybe she should try taking the bill for a change or blow her gas and come and pick me up. She just laughed in my face and said that's not the way it's supposed to go. I was floored, dude. They want me to do my part but they don't want to do their part. No way. You keep being a nice guy if you want to man. You know where they finish. Darren in Orlando. 4May2007 Hey Miles, I just got through reading your article "Sex at First Site" and I just wanted to respond. I’m no old fashioned girl but for some reason I can never bring myself to even consider having sex after just meeting someone. I’ve been on dates with guys who were absolutely spectacular and made the warmest of first impressions and I still just could not envision it happening. Maybe it’s the principle of it. I guess I don’t want to seem like some type of whore or something. I don’t have a 3 date minimum or a 3 month rule like my girlfriends. I take that step when I feel like I’m ready and that’s a sliding scale depending on the guy. But no matter how good the chemistry is or how much I’m feeling him I simply cannot lay down after the first night. It simply doesn’t happen with me. I love your column. Regards. Cynthia K. 3May2007 ------------------------ Breath Check Dear Miles, someone once told me that we've got 6.2 billion breathes to take in our lifetime. It seemed like quite a bit but when I started crunching the numbers and I saw that I definitely needed to start conserving if I was ever going to be old enough to drive the great-grandkids nuts. If I only have 6.2 billion that means that I'm probably going to have to cut back on screaming in traffic... probably. Although there are alot of idiots in sedans who need to be scolded for reckless lane-switching, I think that I may have to lay my civic duties aside and let someone else handle the jerks. 6.2 billion breaths means that I'd have to cut back on the whistling and cat calling too. Last week I was down at the Latin Street Festival and I know I wasted a couple hundred breaths on some scantly clad senoritas. I've talked quite a bit of frivolous smack in my time and I shudder to think what those precious breaths could have been used for. I think I'm going to cut back on my knuckleheaded associations as well, Miles. I know quite a few stupid people who do quite a few stupid things at a pretty stupid frequency and so I (very stupidly) always rush in with a lecture on combating the stupidity. But with a meager 6.2 billion breaths, I can no longer afford to get all worked up and say the same things over and over. It's not worth it. I think I'll say it once, conserve the breaths, and keep it moving. Breathe easy. J. Swift. 24Apr2007 ------------------------ Demand Respect Dear Miles, in the midst of this maelstrom surrounding old man Immy I can't help but smile everytime someone says that whole situation justs needs to be left alone. I'm a white communications major at the University of Central Florida and to me the uproar that situations like this bring about just solidifies my belief that race still matters in this country. Honestly, I think that Sharpton and Jackson can get a little attention starved but in this case their trumpet blowing is justified. There's no way that every person who makes a racial slur can be caught. The big fish however (presidents, governors, media stars) can be caught and made an example of. When John Q. Public sees his favorite celebrity or politician getting throne from grace for unacceptable behavior he learns a lesson. Unfortunately, respect is oftentimes not given so it must be earned. White America needs to see African Americans uniting and standing up for what they will not tolerate. If old man Immy's remarks are just left alone then all of his followers will think that it's okay to repeat them. I don't think I'll ever truly know what it feels like to be an African American in this country so who am I to tell one how they should or should not feel when it comes to stuff like this? What I do know is that people project how they wish to be treated. If I were to call a woman I was dating a whore and if she were to respond by slapping the hell out of me do you think that I would call her a whore again? I doubt it. If she were firm in not accepting that kind of crap from me then I would have no choice other then to respect her. But if she were to just let my remark slide then I would surely be prone to call her out again because there would be no consequences for my actions. Respect has to be demanded. If the network didn't fire the old man then I would love to see the advertising boycott happen. It's not about being over-sensitive or too hard on someone who's really not a racist at heart, it's about demanding respect. Ryan in Oviedo. 13Apr2007 ------------------------ The Asian Stereotype Dear Miles, I'm an African American substitute teacher in the Orlando area (save your sympathy please). I was listening to a conversation between two boys in one of my classes last week and I over heard one of them say that Chinese kids are smarter then regular kids. They were speaking in reference to a Korean classmate of theirs who always gets high marks on homework and tests. I immediately jumped into their conversation and started explaining to them that that was only a stereotype. Regardless of race, creed, or color, all humans have the same brain capacity and can absorb the same knowledge. For those youngsters to actually believe that a certain group of people were genetically programmed to be smarter was absolutely ridiculous and was a poor excuse not to excel. As I lectured them, I started to see things from another perspective. Many Asian cultures place a greater emphasis on education then we do here in the States. In many countries, the education of the young is taken very seriously and academic accomplishment is celebrated with the same ferver that we devote to praising young atheletes. The Asian immigrants who bring this cultural mentality with them expect and demand their children to perform well. The result is a greater emphasis on academics which means that their children put forth more effort. Greater effort leads to better grades and thus the perception of them being smarter. But would it still be just perception if statistics started to consistently show greater academic performance amongst Asian youths? The boys definitely shouldn't handicap themselves by thinking someone can be born smarter but if academic excellence is engrained into the fabric of your culture isn't that just what is happening? Maybe that stereotype wasn't completely rooted in fiction... kind of like black guys being well endowed. lol. Be easy, man. Jamal in Orlando. 6Apr2007 ------------------------ I Hate U, Miles 9 Mr. Miles, I write on behalf of Tranae Marie, the international modeling sensation. Tranae is far too busy being a fabulous runway diva to read your plebian little online column but she did receive word of your recent printed remarks against her and she was very displeased. You sir, are a low class brute and haven't the slightest clue as to what being a world-renowned supermodel is all about. Being Tranae Marie requires a 20,000 square foot condo in the heart of midtown Manhattan with golden silverware forged by the hands of starving Indian children, tile flooring custom-crafted from 18th century French marble, and 5 room-sized closets to store all of the finest furs accumulated from the four corners of the globe. Being Tranae Marie requires a strict diet of equatorial fruits, Cambodian long grained sweet rices, and shellfish hand-plucked from only the bluest of the Caribbean seas. It's nothing for a diva like her to order a twelve course meal, have a sip of Himalayan spring water, and then have the entire dinner taken out back and burned in front of a homeless man. Instead of having her platinum dinner plates and wine flutes washed after a meal she smashes them on the floor for her servants to clean. Being as graceful as Tranae Marie is a burden unto itself because she can only wear the finest of heels and gowns hand pieced from the most exclusive of Asian silks and threads by the mothers of fashion's leading designers. She doesn't wear thousand dollar suits; she uses them to wipe her feet on when stepping out of a luxurious bath of milk and honey oil. Being Tranae Marie means being driven down to Wal-Mart weekly, purchasing a paper shredder, and shredding hundred dollar bills in front of commoners who can barely pay their rent. Being Tranae Marie is a life so fabulous that it's a burden but someone has to do it and Tranae Marie was chosen by the gods to be that person. Instead of wasting your time spreading your putrid, ill-conceived hate of her you should be thanking her for carrying the torch of aristocracy and grace. Consider yourself lucky to have had the privilage of seeing a goddess such as Tranae Marie on your disgusting little 32 inch television. You brute. Franceso De Roselli III. 3Mar2007 ------------------------ 500 Grand Dreams Dear Miles, what a world this would be if I only had 500 grand. You see with 500 grand I wouldn't have to be the person I am and do the things that I do. If I had 500 grand then I wouldn't have to worry about getting along with people. I wouldn't have to worry about doing things a certain way because with 500 grand I could make my own way. I wouldn't have to worry about what people think because I wouldn't need them. If I had 500 grand I wouldn't have to confront anyone. 500 grand would speak for me and it wouldn't mind. I wouldn't have to conceed, I wouldn't have to compromise, I wouldn't have to accomidate, I wouldn't have to change, I wouldn't have to struggle, I wouldn't even have to try if I didn't want to, and I wouldn't have to care if I didn't want to. If I had 500 grand, I wouldn't have to grow at all. Elsie in Freefall. 10Mar2007 ------------------------ Man-Up Emergency Wassup Miles, dig this. The walls of my apartment complex can get pretty thin sometimes and so yesterday as I was getting ready for work I could hear the couple who lives next door fighting. Apparently they must've taken the battle outside because I heard their front door slam shut a couple of times. Neither of them is probably over 22 and I don't know if the boy works or not but the car belongs to the girl and she never lets him drive. Anyway, as I walked out of my place towards the parking lot I noticed that all was quiet so I figured that maybe they had resolved their dispute. Suddenly, her car door swung open and he hopped out of the passenger side. The engine was running and I could see the girl sitting in the driver's seat. The boy was absolutely hysterical and throwing a huge hussy fit. He slammed her door screaming and babbling like a 5 year old who had just had his chocolate cookie taken away. I tried not to pay him any attention but as he marched towards me with his skinny arms flailing I could see the tears streaming down his face. Just as he passed me the girl blew the horn at him and he went into overdrive. Sobbing, pouting, the whole 9 yards. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I immediately turned and grabbed him by his shoulders, spun him around, and yelled "Man up!" right in his face. I was going to slap him but I was afraid that I would hurt him. I don't know came over me, Miles. I had never spoken to this kid before in my life. I had no idea what they were fighting about but quite frankly it didn't matter. I couldn't just stand there and watch the young fella was loosing his manhood right before my very eyes. We have both a duty and an obligation to get these young panzies in line. Jay near UCF. 1Mar2007 ------------------------ Spanish Rap Dear Miles, just when I thought that I had seen and heard it all from the rap music world I discovered a new low this morning: Spanish rap (Sap). Yes my friend, it's all the misogyny and materialism of regular commercial rap (Crap) but now in a new exciting Spanish flavor. Wow! It was hard enough for my man not to oogle American video hoochies and now with Sap he doesn't even have to bother pretending like he's watching the video for the lyrics because he can't understand them. Then they showed this little grade school kid rapping. He was throwing around a pendant chain that was roughly half his size and pretending to smack the booties of some pre-teen hoochies that were jiggling to his left and right. I could not find the words to describe my disappointment in the realization that Crap is global. Needless to say we didn't indulge in that for too long. Anyhoo... Happy Anniversary, Miles. Keep up the good stuff. Patty in Orlando. 26Feb2007 ------------------------ A Yin for a Yang Dear Miles, just when you think that the act of someone is dumb enough to isolate them you soon find that there is a yin for every yang. I pose the question: who’s crazier? Timmy Hardaway for saying into a live microphone that he hates gays or the dozen activists who think that his opinion matters and will camp outside of his house in protest for 2 weeks? Major news networks who actually made time to report that Britney cut her hair or the eBayer who will shell out 500,000 dollars for her golden locks? The lunkheads who confuse real women with video skanks or the women who date them and expect to be treated like real women? The mind boggles. Frances in Altomonte Springs. ------------------------ The Valentine Letters Wassup Miles. The pressure is on man. My girl is high maintenence so every holiday I feel like I have to raise the bar and out do the last gift I gave her. I started saving up for this Valentine's Day in mid January and I still think that I may be blowing my budget. It's crazy. God might've given man the ability to run the world but he leveled the playing field by making us suckers for hot women. I hate the power that she has over me but I don't think I can let her go. What really sucks is that her birthday is in March so the only way that I'll be able to afford to top Valentine's Day is to take on a part time gig. Maybe one day I'll wise up. Pablo near Conroy-Windermere. 13Feb2007 Dear Miles, I'm single and the majority of my girlfriends are single as well. Decent guys seem to be in short supply now and days so I'll be spending Valentine's Day solo. My girls are planning on going out and celebrating "the single life" once again but honestly I really don't feel like putting on that show this year. It helps a little bit to gather together and rile each other up on how great it is to be free and single but after a while the high begins to fade and I'm left with the realization that it's just me. I'm not even looking for a Mr. Perfect or a Knight in Shining Armor like they are. I'm no damsel in distress, just a girl who wants someone good to care for her. That's it. So this year I won't be sulking over my situation but I definitely won't be pretending that not having love is all cookies and cream. It is what it is. Happy Valentine's Day. Ashley in Orlando. 13Feb2007 Dear Miles, it's amazing how priorities can change with age. When I was a younger man I loved Valentine's Day because my wife would go buy something suggestive and prance around in the house all day with it on. She'd always make me wait until nightfall before I could endulge myself so for the whole day the anticipation would build and build. It was all quite fun. With time has come many changes and the anticipation doesn't build in quite the same way as it did in my youthful days. It's somewhat odd to admit but now I could care less about her prancing around in a short skirt (we've both passed our prime for that). I'd probably get more excited if she went out and detailed my car or mowed the lawn as my Valentine's Day gift. Valentine's Day is a holiday fitted best for the young. Just give me a big hug, pass me my vitamin suppliments and call it a day. Morris in Winter Park. 12Feb2007 ------------------------ The Living Sacrifice Dear Miles, some people in this life will grow, adapt and evolve and some people will quite simply remain the same. My husband is the youngest of 5 kids and when I married him I took away his mother's precious baby boy. His other siblings were all girls who grew up and moved to other cities so for a long time he was all that she had to pamper and coddle. Fundamentally, she's a sweet old lady but she's quite stubborn at times and very stuck in her ways. When our marriage was in its infancy she would constantly call to make "recommendations" on how I could be a better wife to her baby boy. She was raised in an era when women weren't equals but rather unquestioning servants to their husbands. She had serious issues with me working overtime, going back to school for my Master's degree, or pretty much anything else that kept me out of the house. My husband loves me and had no issues with me pursuing my dreams but his mother just saw everything that I did as a neglection of my wifely duties. For years her phone calls were like torture because I had to endure her subtle remarks about what a proper wife should be. I tried on several occassions to sit her down and explain to her that every relationship is built differently and that even though the way I did things was different from hers it didn't make it wrong... just different. There were times when I thought that I was finally getting through to her but sure enough the very next week she'd fall back on her ways and it was back to the lectures on what a proper wife should be. At some point I had to take control. If someone operates a certain way, and I know how they operate, then why should it surprise me when they act that way? I started to realize that I can take control of how I respond to her. Instead of me pulling my hair out trying to force her to change when she clearly was not ready I decided that I would change how I receive her. If someone constantly upsets me and they're doing the same things that they've always done then after a while it's my fault that I'm upset. They haven't changed, right? They're doing the same things that they've always done... so why would I let it continue to bother me? I had to take responsibility for myself, my actions and my happiness. As I said, she was still a sweet woman but she was just incapable of seeing past what worked for her for so many years. As the years passed, our relationship got better. I stopped taking her lectures personally and humbled myself to the fact that she simply was who she was. As a result, the animosity that I was projecting towards her started to fade and she slowly started to see that her baby boy was in good hands. I'm not advocating that anyone roll over or bow down to a stubborn person but sometimes someone has to make a sacrifice in order for life to go on. It's unfair but it's just a part of life and being a mature, evolving person. If I would have continued along the path of butting heads with my husband's over-protective mother then we probably would not be speaking today and that whole chapter of my life would bring me nothing but frustration and stress. But I learned that I can control how someone else affects me and by humbling myself (not changing.. humbling) to her alot of the tension faded. Someone always has to evolve for the sake of progress, Miles. She'll probably never recognize the sacrifice that I had to make and she'll probably never thank me for the pride that I had to put aside for us to co-exist but that's okay. I did it all so that we could progress. Lady Baltimore in Orlando. 4Feb2007 ------------------------ I Hate U, Miles 8 Miles, first off let me say that you can save your judgements because I could care less what you think about me. You need to understand that not everyone shares your values and desires. Don't you know that people dream differently? I don't need you looking at me like I'm stupid because it's not my life's goal to tour Florence or to go back-packing in New Zealand. I'm quite happy where I am situated in this world. You frowned on me because I could care less about racking up "new experiences" in far away lands. You want a new experience? Try mentoring a seven year old struggling in school or go cut an old woman's lawn for free. Go repair an old bike and ride it at twilight. Some people know how to experience life right in their own backyard. Some people don't need a mansion with a Hummer in the garage to feel accomplished. Some people would settle for all of their bills paid, a piano in the living room, and space for two dogs to play. People who find happiness in lighting up their grilles on the weekend or reading the Sunday Times on a Friday evening are no less cultured or worldly. They're just different from you. Everyone doesn't dream the same so stop thinking that I'm less then you are because I look forward to building a family instead of a travel log. Priscilla in Winter Park. 17Jan2007 ------------------------ I Prefer White Dear Miles, I'm a young woman who was born and raised in the U.S. but I'm of Columbian decent. I was raised in a majority caucasion neighborhood, went to a majority caucasion school, and really have only dated caucasian men. Now that's not to say that I'm not attracted to hispanic or black men but I guess I just prefer white guys because that's what I always saw growing up. My grandmother usually does not agree with my taste in men. We're close and I tell her about who I'm dating and she often frowns if the guy is not hispanic or latino. I used to think that this was subtle racism. Limiting myself to a certain type of individual strictly because they look like me is depriving myself of a whole world of opportunity. A fantastic guy could be right around the corner but I would never get to know that if I cast him aside because of his skin color. As I got older my opinion started to change. Instead of her being anti-white, maybe my grandmother was just being pro-hispanic. She could have been referring to the fact that there are many hispanic men out there who could use a good Columbian girl to help keep the culture strong. It was a matter of heritage and ethnic pride. As if to say "why support their team when your home team needs so much help". But wouldn't the concept of a "team" have negative undertones as well? In a perfect world we could all be one team so how would us forming a hispanic team be any different then the Civil War era Southern whites team? They disgraced a whole other team just so that the culture and heritage of their team could live on and prosper. As I got older I started to look beyond myself and more into the all-Columbian/hispanic environment that she was brought up in and I saw that her preferences were formed in a manner similar to my own. Her "team" was all that she knew and all that she could trust growing up so it's only natural for her to lean a certain way. But when the subject of racial abuse and mistrust comes into play, I'm left with 2 schools of thought. Either her desire for me to date only hispanic men is rooted in sheer, stubborn preference (brought on by being raised in an all Columbian setting) or it's rooted in a subconscious mistrust of the race that may have abused, degraded, or disrespected her "team" growing up. It's hard to say which one drives her today. It's not to say that she hates whites or blacks, but her memories could be filled with images of them mistreating those closest to her and this could probably account for the subconscious mistrust. But 2 wrongs certainly don't make a right. If she was abused by whites (wrong 1) and now she doesn't trust whites (wrong 2) then she'd pass her beliefs on to her children and so on and in theory we'd never make any steps towards a unified team. But sometimes I wonder if we really even need one team. There's certainly a difference between bigotry and cultural pride. Embracing that which sets you apart from the rest of the world isn't a bad idea. I guess in the grand scheme of things there's nothing wrong with a healthy desire to preserve heritage and culture as long as it's not rooted in mistrust or intolerance. I can certainly understand hispanic women wanting only hispanic men or black women wanting only black men because it all boils down to who you're more comfortable with and who you can relate to. However, if I can relate more to white guys because I was raised around white guys then I shouldn't be made to feel ashamed by other people's preferences. As long as my relationship makes me happy, makes me comfortable, and lifts me up it shouldn't matter what teams we've come from... in theory. Maria in Orlando. 13Jan2007 ------------------------ Room To Spray Wasup again, Miles. Ima keep it brief and to the point, man. Fellas, the men's room is not a place to make friends. I know you see the women flocking into the women's bathroom together and maybe some of you silly metrosexuals think that you can create that type of environment but I'm here to tell you that you can't! If I'm standing at a urinal don't even think of using the one right next to me if there's one available two stalls down. I need my space. Don't ask me how my day is going and seriously expect me to answer whie I'm holding my unit. Don't talk to me. Don't expect me to shake your hand. Don't make eye contact with me. Acknowledge me if you know me but after that face forward. You sunflowers need to man up. I'm sick and tired of feeling like some kinda weirdo because I want to use a bathroom for what God intended it to be. Deposite your wastes and keep it moving. Next dude who even looks like he wants to be my friend while I'm trying to destroy a urinal cake is getting sprayed. You've been warned, tinkerbells. Be easy, Miles. Malcolm in Orlando. 13Jan2007 ------------------------ Karma Hey Miles. Do you believe what goes around comes around? Do you believe that when you do something be it good or bad that the deed somehow re-manifests itself in some other form or opportunity later on? Doesn't stuff just happen? Sometimes I wonder about if we're somehow dictating events that go on around us or if things simply just randomly happen. It's human nature to want to things to fit together. It makes us all feel better when we have an explanation for why situations turn out the way they do. Billions believe that what you put out is inevitably what you get back but does that mean that this happens all of the time? It doesn't seem that way when you hear stories about infants being stricken with painful, terminal illnesses or corporate bigwigs who buy yachts with embezzled pension funds. We convince ourselves that drug dealers will get what's coming to them one day and we rejoice when they get caught but what happens to the ones who just walk away and live out their lives in quiet luxury? They didn't get what was coming to them in this life so maybe, just maybe, they'll be punished in the next. Does it make us feel better to say that as we go back to our less then luxurious homes? Did I get an A on a test I didn't study for because I gave a bum 10 dollars 2 days before? It can be easy to make connections when we really try and it can be just as easy to look at everything and say that there's no connection. I certainly feel more comforted when I can make sense of nonsense or when the unexplainable gets explained. But honestly Miles, I don't know if there's some metaphysical connection between us, time, and events or if things just happen because somewhere there was a cause that triggered an effect. No matter which side you take there's no way to disprove the other side so arguing is futile. But one side certainly keeps the world in check. Annette. 8Jan2007 ------------------------ The Dog Whisperer Dear Miles, I really dig Cesar Millan and his show. He says that the key to taming a raging wild animal is to remain calm because they can pick up on your fear and nervous energy. I figured that if I was ever in a bad situation like that then I would be true to Cesar's advice and calm the beast with my impeccable composure. Bad idea. A friend recently bought a home and was giving me a tour of it. He told me that he had a mid-sized terrior but he didn't see it when we entered and so he figured that the dog had wandered out to the backyard. While were walking around upstairs his phone rang and so he went to go answer it. As soon as he disappeared I noticed the dog walking around downstairs. The instant the dog caught sight of me it snarled and started a full speed dash toward the stairwell. I'm no animal expert but judging from the aggressive display of teeth and the excessive slobber that poured out of its mouth as it charged I'd say that it wasn't thrilled to see me. I instantly thought of Cesar's advice and tried to stay cool but as I heard him thundering up the stairs all I could think about was how quickly I could have something heavy and preferably pointy in my hands to bash it's brains in with. Don't get me wrong, I love dogs but this one was racing as if it wanted to take a nice-sized chunk out of me and I had just put on some cocoa butter lotion too so I knew I'd probably taste good. Was I supposed to remain calm while little Fido ravaged and had his way with me? Sorry Cesar but it wasn't going down like that. Luckily, my friend appeared at the last minute and called off the attack. Good thing too because I had grabbed a piece of nearby 2x4 and was in a batter's stance like I was about to swing for a home run in the World Series. I'll leave the beast taming to the guys who get paid by National Geographic to do it. I'm at the top of the food chain for a reason. Thad in Avalon Park. 6Jan2007 ------------------------ New Year's in the ER Dear Miles, Orlando parties may get pretty lively but I promise there's no place like the ER on a major holiday. I'm a nurse over at Orlando Regional and if you want to know how a lot of folks top off their New Year's celebrations just come and spend some time with me. After the staff counts down to midnight we sit back and wait for the mayhem to begin. The first wave usually starts around 12:45. These are typically the lighter, less-habitual drunks. Some stumble in but most are dragged in kicking and screaming by the cops. There's no better way to start off the year then by having to strap down some party girl and listen to her scream obscenities at you while you try to give her oxygen. As the night progresses the druggies start to come in followed closely by the hardcore teenage binge drinkers. It's always funny to see some soccer mom's little angel being hauled in by police after being found naked and disoriented in the bushes outside of a theme park or night club. Every now and again we'll get a loveable hobo pretending to have a stomach infection because he just wants a warm bed for the night. The worst cases are the stubborn drunks or overdosers who swear to high heaven that they don't need our help. They come in in handcuffs and urinate all over our floors in proud defiance as we try to administer treatment to them. If I had my way, I'd let the jerks sit and stew in their own waste until they sobered up. It would be nice to serve people who are actually sick for a change instead of dealing with all of the idiots who don't know when to say when. But such is life, I guess. New year, same ol' nonesense. Que sera sera. I hope your year started off better then mine did. Rosetta in Orlando. 1Jan2007 ------------------------ Floss More Dear Miles, resolutions will come and go in the New Year but as I look back on this year I can make at least one that I know I will keep. Next year I think I'm going to floss more. Last February I attended a Valentine's Day Single's Party hosted by a friend and I met a tall, beautiful, woman. She ran her own business, seemed very family oriented and was undoubtedly the catch of a lifetime. We talked for a while but it felt as if she was distracted during the whole conversation. After the party ended I gave her my number and we parted ways. Upon getting home I was mortified to find that I had 2 heaping chunks of spinach lodged in my front teeth. Before the party I had a quick bite of some leftover spinach casserole and in my haste to be on time I didn't think to stop and check for any remaining green particles. She never called and I never saw her again. Last June a routine procedure to get a nagging cavity filled went wrong and so I had to spend 3 days in recovery at home unable to speak. During one of those days I was supposed to have met and consulted with a wealthy Swiss investment couple. I had been trying to set up the meeting with them since March but when I had to cancel they decided to take their money to one of my competitors. Long story short, they invested quite a sum in Google and other technology stocks and made themselves and their new consultant a hefty profit. That could've been my commission if I would've maintained better flossing habits. Then in September, I was in a bank that got held up by the infamous Yankee-Cap Robber. When he let his guard down another bank customer and myself crept up on him and wrestled him to the floor. We scuffled with him but neither of us had any rope or cord handy to restrain him. He managed to free himself and made a clean escape with what was later tallied to be 120,000 dollars. If I had been an avid flosser I probably would've had my trusty emergency floss pack in my coat pocket. I could've used it tie up the menace and be a hero. My resolution is clear for next year, Miles. I've already gone and purchased 3 packs of waxed peppermint flavored floss. The Goddess of Fortune and Dentistry will frown upon me no longer. Happy New Year. Cheers. Myron in Orlando. 30Dec2006 ------------------------ A Gangsta Christmas Yo yo yo, Miles. What it is and what it do, son. It's ya boy again, MC KnifeWork and you know I couldn't let Christmas go by widdout lettin the people know that my new album is in stores right now! Daaaayuuuum. Word up! Ya boy did a Christmas album and it's definitely off the metrics. I'm calling it A Gangsta Christmas. Check out the songlist: "Where's My Ho, Ho, Ho", "Santa, Bring Me Some Crack", "Guns and Booty by the YuleLog", "F--- Ur Christmas Cheer", "Let It Snow (The Crack-Related Remix)", "Gimme Ur Wallet, Rudulph", "Christmas Wit The Hoes", "Guns In The Gingerbread House". Yessir. They're all gangsta hits! So yo! Everybody go buy dat album in stores right now, son! Downloading ain't gangsta. You gotta go buy it! I'm tired of driving my 2007 Benz already. I need that 2008 model coupe quick fast and a new 3 foot plat chain to rock pronto, feel me. Word! Ayo, Merry Christmas from Stab-Ya-Brotha Records! We still hustlin over here! We only sleep on December 32nd! Holla! MC Knifework aka Millhouse W. Nortenson Jr. 24Dec2006 ------------------------ Holiday Wishlist Dear Miles, I'm in the service and move around quite a bit but I still try to keep up with your online column man. I loved your holiday wishlist and I figured I'd write you and tell you about what I'd like for the holidays. I'm currently stationed in Texas and this Christmas I want people to really start thinking before they pick who will lead them. It's easy to make a decision when you don't have to worry about the consequences. Out here on the base man the war is a harsh reality. Families seem to walk a little closer, bonds seem to be a little tighter, and life tends to mean a little more. It's sad that good people just trying to make a living for themselves and their families will ulimately pay the price for the greed and selfish ambition of others. I know there will never be world peace and that wars will always need to be fought but some battles never have to happen at all. Out here, the foolish decisions of others really can cost lives. Godbless you and yours man. And Godbless these troops. Tony at Ft. Hood. 22Dec2006 Miles, all I want for the holidays is peace in my blasted house. My wife is a stay at home mom and so the only adult interaction she has all day is by watching The View and the stupid neverending soaps. Then when I come home after 10 hours on the job I have to be her sounding board. I love her but I just want to come home and sit down and relax for a little while. But no. When I put my keys down I have to hear about the latest Hollywood divorce news from some dumb gossip show. Then I have to give a blasted speech on how my day was. What do you mean how was my day? It was the same as yesterday and the hundred others before that... it sucked! And God help me if she's been fighting with her shiftless sister all day. This Christmas I just want some time to unwind when I walk through the door. Robert in Killeen. 21Dec2006 Hi Miles, long time fan, first time responder. I loved your holiday wishlist article. This year I'm scratching the stuff that doesn't really matter off of my wish list. I'd be perfectly happy if I knew everyone around me was safe and Content. An all expenses paid trip to Barbados, the Dominican Republic or perhaps to the Louvre would be nice but in the grand scheme of things those things don't equate to happiness. If everyone could rid themselves of the red demons and blue devils that haunt us then we'd all be a little better off. But I guess finding happiness is like producing music or making greetings cards, it just comes easier to some folks then others. Regardless, I hope that everyone will choose the hands-on approach and opt to take their journey in life to the next level. Lord help us because we're all just trying to make it. Merry Christmas, Miles. Melissa in Sun City. 21Dec2006 ------------------------ The Happiest Years Miles, I recently heard a report on CNN about how males ages 60-69 tend to be the happiest while males ages 20-29 tend to be the least happy. This study puzzled me because I'm 62 years old and I know for a fact that I'm no where near as happy as my youngest sons are. They're 25 and 28, both still in school, not working and childless. I pay for their tuition and the cars that they drive. Their only real obligation is to go to class and so they have significant amounts of free time which they devote entirely to the pursuit of partying and chasing women. If those lads are unhappy they sure do a great job of hiding their depression. Chase in Mt. Dora. 16Dec2006 ------------------------ The Malarkey Scenario Dear Miles, follow the flow. Mighty Mr. Malarkey is a senior citizen who is starting to worry with abnormal blood pressure and high sugar. He goes to his doctor and she gives him a mighty prescription and advises him to eat healthier and to start taking a walk outside every morning. 3 months later, Mighty Mr. Malarkey feels wonderful and his blood pressure is back down. Mighty Mr. Malarkey's doctor cancels his mighty prescription, complements his lifestyle change and sends him on his way. The pharmacutical corporation that makes Mighty Mr. Malarkey's medication notices the cancellation and realizes that if Mighty Mr. Malarkey is healthy then there's no reason for him to purchase their mighty product. Measly Mr. Malarkey, notices his brother's newfound health and decides he wants the same medicine. He goes to Mighty Mr. Malarkey's doctor and she gives him the same mighty prescription and advices him to eat healthier and to start taking a walk outside every morning. 3 months later, Measly Mr. Malarkey's blood pressure and sugar are normal but he's finding that he's lower on energy, watching significantly more television and taking longer afternoon naps then he used to. Measly Mr. Malarkey goes back to the doctor and she decides that he had better stay on the medication until he bounces back. The pharmacutical corporation receives the updated order and sends out a mighty generous care package to the Malarkey doctor thanking her for prescribing their product. Measly Mr. Malarkey's lack of energy snowballs into other health problems but instead of assigning him to a strictly monitored regiment of exercise the doctor decides to recommend one of the new products offered by the pharmacutical corporation. The new products relieve some of Measly Mr. Malarkey's ailments but over time mysterious new ones present themselves. Measly Mr. Malarkey's doctor prescribes more medicine and so the cycle continues. Mighty Mr. Malarkey often wonders why his brother didn't get better like he did but he never asks himself one question. If everyone is healthy then who will buy medicine? Silent P. in Pine Hills. 14Dec2006 ------------------------ His Will Be Done Hey Miles, do you think it's wrong for the religious to go around claiming healing powers in the name of God? I'm not quite sure if it's a bad thing but on some level it feels like conceit. For example, an older woman was striken with cancer at my church and one of the associate ministers touched her and began to speak of how God would deliver a blessing of healing to her soon. The old woman broke down into tears as the minister continued to pray and affirm that a blessing was on the way. My faith tells me that God is certainly capable of healing any ailment but when does it become okay to preach on what God will do? I think there's a world of difference between speaking on the Will of God and what we would like for the Will of God to do. Maybe I'm way off but as I sat and watched her cry I couldn't help but feel as though her hopes were being misguided. Everyone deserves something to believe in but is being misled justifiable if it eases the soul? And what happens if God's will really isn't what the minister predicted it to be? Who becomes the liar? The minister for incorrectly deciphering the Will of God or God for not blessing her with what she was promised? Just food for thought, I guess. Take care. Sandra D. in Orlando. 3Dec2006 ------------------------ Thrillseeker, Bill Keeper Dear Miles, I just read your little article on Ultimate Thrillseekers and I was very disappointed. It's so obvious that you've never had any real money. Let me tell you something. When you really make it, your whole perspective on life changes. The problems of the everyday schlub no longer concern you because you start to see that life is short and that there are tons of adventures out there that you need to be able to say that you've done. Climbing Mt. Everest, deep sea spear fishing in Thailand, playing lion tag in the Serengeti, intentional plane-crashing in New Zealand. These are all things that really boost the sense of accomplishment. If you're not spending a small fortune to go adventuring then your not living your life. One of mankind's most primal urges is the need to regal others with tales of where you've been. Having goobs of money frees you, Miles and you need freedom. Stop thinking like a peasant. Rob, steal, whatever. I don't care what you have to do to get rich. Just do it and then in one year watch how your outlook on life changes. Theodore. 1Dec2006 Dear Miles, I read your piece on Thrillseekers and I chuckled to myself because I too have been watching that Everest show on the Discovery channel and was thinking exactly what you were. I guess scaling Everest just seems ridiculous because it's a thrill for a guy like me to just pay the mortgage, the car notes, and electricity bills on time. lol. My adventure comes from just doing stuff with my wife and kids. Making them happy is my sense of accomplishment. I watch these guys trot up the mountain, freeze up and die and I just shake my head. I liken these millionaires to regular guys who kill themselves everyday over stupid stuff like sticking objects in electrical outlets or trying to push their bikes past 130 on the interstate in traffic. Accidents happen but I have no sympathy for guys who laugh their way to their deaths. But I guess in the end it's just fundamental Darwinism. Rich or poor, those unfit to survive will find a way to eliminate themselves from the gene pool. I'm just glad they always take along video cameras. lol. Sam the Extreme Orthodontist. 30Nov2006 ------------------------ Black Friday Dear Miles, I'm a senior floor manager at a very familiar retail mega-chain in the Orlando area. I've been waging the war that is wholesale product sales for 10 years now. I'm a certified veteran and I've seen it all in the sales world but every year Black Friday just gets more chaotic. I pray God forgive us for this year we may have gone too far. I should've seen trouble brewing when bargain-hunting extremists started camping outside of our store on Wednesday morning. The store was open on Wednesday and Thursday but they were waiting to be the first in on Friday. Management figured that a 3am opening would be enough to satisfy the public's hunger for below average priced electronics and fine jewelry but when we arrived on that faithful morning to open the doors the masses were waiting for us. We hadn't yet turned the front entrance lights on so some were huddled around the locked sliding glass doors with torches in one hand and coupon ads in the other. When they saw us stirring around inside they signaled to others still in their sleeping bags and they all gathered around the doors. They wiped the fog from their collective breaths off of the glass and peered inside, each mentally plotting out a route to his or her favorite section of the store. Some of the newer employees noticed customers stretching as if preparing for a track meet and they began to grow nervous. As floor manager I tried to maintain calm but I could clearly see the fear in the eys of my stock boys. When opening time came I selected one of my more experienced workers to go and unlock the main doors. Even though we had fitted him with make-shift armor of large kitchen sponges and couch pillows, I still felt a horrible chill in my bones as he walked faithfully towards the front doors and the fuming mob. The last thing he said to us was "Tell my wife I'll always love her" and with that he unlocked the doors and was immediately crushed by the sea of bargain-hunters. As I watched the shopmongers battle over the newest import gaming systems, music players, and Seasame Street electronic plush dolls I lost it. I ran to one of the stalls in the men's bathroom and began to sob uncontrollably in the fetal position on the floor. This year we had 5 casualties and 42 injuries but it will never be revealed because all security video tapes were taken and burned. Black Friday has become a menacing juggernaut that will undoubtedly mark the end of society as we know it. May we be forgiven for our actions because we know not what we sell. Jeremiah in mourning. 24Nov2006 ------------------------ Daddy Keeps Dying Dear Miles, I'm a single woman trying to raise a young boy into a man. My son and I have an outstanding relationship but I know that sometimes he longs for the presence of a father figure in his life. His father passed away six years ago but he was still just a toddler so that relationship was only just beginning to blossom. About two years ago, I decided to start dating again but I've been having a difficult time finding a good guy capable of dealing with my situation. I'm always respectful of my son and I've tried to refrain from bringing strangers into our lives until I know that they're mature and understanding. It seems as though even the guys with the best of intentions eventually conclude that dating a woman and her son is simply too much for them and so they wind up leaving. I can understand that but my son sees only a potential father figure in each one that comes and gives him that initial burst of affection. Every time he opens up to someone only to have that person leave just pushes him further and further into his shell. I would love to find companionship once again but I can't keep breaking my son's heart. It's just not worth it. Jessica in Tampa. 21Nov2006 ------------------------ The Juice is Loose Wassup Miles, could you please tell me why Orenthal's legal advisor hasn't smacked him in that casaba melon sized head yet? What on earth is this guy doing? Instead of just fading into the sunset he just keeps popping up. He writes a book and titles it "If I Did It"? Am I not narcissistic enough to understand why people make decisions like this? Isn't he banking somewhere near 25 thou a month just off royalties? Isn't that enough to just disappear? I'd take my kids to Costa Rica and spend the rest of my life in peace if I had an income like that. I'm tired of defending this knucklehead in front of my white co-workers. I've tried to show a little cultural unity and stand by the brother but he makes it too hard. Someone please tell ol' Killah to just sit down. Damon in Melbourne. 17Nov2006 ------------------------ Deja Vu Miles, have you ever had deja vu? I know this will sound unbelievable but every morning I wake up and it's the same day. The weather, the news, everything is literally always the same. The whole day just keeps repeating itself. I can't explain it or why I'm the only person who seems to be conscious of it. I just can't shake the feeling that I'm supposed to do something momentous on this day. I feel like it's an opportunity to set events in motion that will ultimately change the world and free myself from this prison of time. Sadly but truthfully, I'm not much of a momentous person or a world-changer. I usually just end up calling in sick to work and going out to do something fun. Today I'm driving over to Sanford to enter a 1-Day Bowling Tournament and tomorrow (or today) I think I'll fly to Atlantic City. Ken Diggs. 16Nov2006 ------------------------ I Hate U, Miles 7 Dear Miles, I hate the fact that you're not taking the time that it takes to build a wonderful story. I hate that it's much more convenient for you to make generalizations and quickly categorize rather then to explore and recognize potential. Your indifference, your schedule, your proximity and your options have cost us both something precious. I hate that you couldn't bring yourself down two levels just to get to know me. I deserved a fighting chance and the opportunity to show you why you felt so right. I hate you for every night you should've called to tell me about nothing in particular and for every cloudy morning when I could've woken up to raindrops and you. I hate you because my dreams will linger on a little longer once again. All because you couldn't take the time that it takes. Sleeping Beauty. 14Nov2006 ------------------------ Lunch ToGo Dear Miles, I think that the community fridge is one of the worst things that's ever happened to the modern workplace. We've had several complaints of food thievery at my office. Why can't people just respect someone else's property? Not too long ago I brought fruit in and placed them in the refrigerator. I returned for them at lunch and found that one of my tangerines was missing and that someone had taken a small bite out of my apple. I was dumbfounded. It's like the culprit didn't like the taste of the stolen apple so he decided to be merciful and return it with only a small set of teeth marks in it. Was this somehow supposed to ease his conscience? This kind of thing has been going on for months and we're all growing quite sick of it. I've seen tuna sandwiches just vanish, yogurt cups opened, spooned and returned, and an unopened can of Sprite opened and sipped. There was even a case where one of my co-workers had brought in ingredients to make a couple of tortilla wraps for her lunch. She had placed individually packed meat sauce, lettuce, cheese, and wraps in the fridge. When she came during her lunch hour she found that one of the tortillas was missing and a little bit of each ingredient had been pilfered. Some brazen soul had actually taken the time to steal ingredients and compile themselves a tortilla! Unbelievable. No matter. Sweet revenge will be mine because tomorrow a lone roast beef sandwich will be placed in the fridge. Inbetween it's succulent slices of beef and crispy lettuce will be a healthy dosage of ExLax. I'm calling it Operation BrownFinger. Stealing is wrong and someone will pay for his or her sins. Danielle in Winter Springs. 13Nov2006 ------------------------ Higher Standards 2 Wassup Miles. I just read that Higher Standards letter from one of your readers and felt like spitting my coffee at the screen. I never thought someone could squeeze that many refences to themself in one paragraph. Tell that stuck up broad to climb down off of her high horse. I can't stand women like that. Acting like they're so high and mighty. There's a such thing as having standards that are too high! Who knows how many half-way decent guys she's met and turned away because she's got them huge walls up. Talking about her own place and how pretty she is. What does that have to do with anything?? Selfish princess. The 2 or 3 guys alive that do meet her standards will probably never cross her path and probably wouldn't even give her a second glance because of all the other women chasing them. And some broads sit and wonder why they'll be single for life. Newsflash, princess : All guys aren't crap so if you've been byself yourself for a while it might just be you and not us! Liston. 5Nov2006 ------------------------ Holy Rubberbands Dear Miles, I know you've been hearing about that big-time Evangelical minister out in Colorado who's in trouble for sleeping with male hookers and taking meth. They say that he was one of those ministers who fiercely and passionately condemned homosexual activity. All the while, he's been sneaking out on his wife and kids. I just get tired of these guys, Miles. I believe in God and I go to church fairly regularly but I just don't agree with these extreme finger-pointing, "fire and brimstone" spewing preachers. The more intense they are and the more they try to rile up and excite their congregations the more I question them. It's like a lot of these ultra-butch, tough guys who struggle with their own issues of sexual orientation. They're uncomfortable and ashamed of themselves so they put on this suit of homophobia and beat up or pick on other gay people. The more intense and tightly coiled these yahoos are the farther they have to snap back. If I don't like someone or something I just state my opinion and move on. The saddest part is when I think about all of the people who just followed this guy around. Now their human savior has been knocked back down to regular ol' mortality and they may just turn their back on religion altogether. It seems pretty simple to me. If you're a preacher and you've got some secret stuff going on that you know is in direct contridiction to what you preach every Sunday then just step down from the pullpit for a while and deal with your issues. Doesn't that make sense? But I guess it's hard to step away when you're running an empire. I follow no man. I don't put a whole lot of trust in guys who perform and fire-up hundreds of thousands every week which is why I'm never surprised when it all comes tumbling down. Amen. Ruth in Tampa. 4Nov2006 ------------------------ Higher Standards Dear Miles, I took a love survey the other day and one of the questions was "Do you cherish relationships?" Of course, I had to immediately put down yes because I'm such a kind, caring and compassionate person :) But later on the question came back to me and I thought about it again. I'm single and have been for almost 2 years now. I'm still in college but I've got a decent job, my own place, and my own car. Guys always tell me how pretty I am and I try to keep my shape nice so it's not like I'm short on relationship-candidates (I read one of your other letters called "What It Do" and laughed because I get that all the time!!!). But still I've been single for a loooong time. I guess I really do cherish relationships because I refuse to settle for crap (girl power!!). I really take my time before I even consider a guy for a boyfriend because I could not stand to be in a relationship with nonsense or drama. I keep most guys at a certain distance because they've already proven to me what they're about whether they knew it or not. I just don't have the patience for DRAMA and I certainly couldn't stand it from my boyfriend. I can do bad all by myself (like the song says!!). Sooooo... I can say, yes, I REALLY do value relationships! Crystal from West Palm Beach. 2Nov2006 ------------------------ The Comfort of Strangers Miles, isn't it interesting that people can bear their souls to complete strangers and yet have difficulty just talking to those who are closest to them. Everyday millions of people sit down and log on to begin discussions with individuals they may never meet or see. Conversations about secrets, fears, fantasies, perversions, and feelings take place over electronic wires oftentimes with a spouse, lover, or significant other sitting just in the next room. Why is it that some guys can listen to and wisely advise a female chat partner for hours but shudder in contempt when their wives approach to tell them about her day? Is it because something is missing from their primary relationships or is it simply that the chat partner is a new relationship? If the chatters were to develop a relationship would the novelty eventually wear off and leave them searching for the next new soul to vent or council to? And if one was frequently bearing their soul to complete strangers would this constitute as cheating? Your mate is supposed to provide for your physical and emotional needs right? So if someone else is filling your emotional needs then they're taking the place of your mate, right? Maybe two people together for a long time just gets old and someone else's drama introduces a little spice. Maybe the history of a relationship builds walls and makes some subjects unmentionable. Maybe people are just horrible when it comes to choosing their significant others. Whatever the reason, many people open themselves up to strangers in ways that they never thought possible. Strangers meeting online, in subways, on elevators, in lines, on planes... it happens so frequently that it's almost like it's a natural instinct to connect. Maybe we're fighting evolution by making a taboo out of something that could be healthy for us and for society. After all, isn't listening to, counseling and helping out a complete stranger the ultimate act of selfless humanity? Questions, questions, Miles. Augustus at sunrise. 1Nov2006 ------------------------ Ford Truck Girl Dear Miles, my girlfriend drives a Ford Ranger pick-up truck. I used to think the idea of dating a girl who drove a truck was fantastic. I guess I always reasoned that kind of girl wasn't the standard prissy-type female. I was right for the most part. My girl is down-to-earth, easy going, and doesn't concern herself with petty nonsense. My problem is that now I'm starting to feel like less of man whenever I see her hop out of that customized, 4-wheel drivable beast. I drive a 91' Nissan Sentra and I'm kind of embarrassed to say but whenever we go somewhere we always take her truck because my car's just not reliable. Of course, she could care less about the kind of car I drive but it's the principle of it all, Miles! Last week, my car got stuck in some mud and I had to call her to ride over and tow me out. I felt like a helpless little puppy as I stood back and watched her pull a tow chain out of her truck bed and attach it to my flimsy, dented bumper. I've been saving up and pretty soon I'll be able to afford a decent compact-pick up but she's about to trump me again. She'll be graduating from college soon and her father promised her that he'd get her one of those new F-150s with the full cab and 20 inch alloys. How do you think I'm going to feel riding passenger in a monster like that? She might as well just take my penis away from me too. Gabe in Ocoee. 26Oct2006 ------------------------ Two Snaps Up Dear Miles, poetry night at The Hideaway was never the same after J. Juan showed up. I was there on that faithful evening when the hostess dreamily called his name to present. He was tall and dark with broad shoulders so as he wove his way through the crowd a powerful hush followed him. When he reached the stage he shot out a subtle but confident smile and instantly silenced the remaining chitter-chatters in the front rows. He did a love poem that evening that was unlike anything anyone had ever heard before. Each stanza that he recited from memory was met with sympathetic cooing and lustful moaning from females in all corners of the room. Guys who were there with females sunk uncomfortably down in their seats, powerless to save their girl from the J. Juan verbal onslaught. The dateless gentleman sat in disgust as they realized that their average get-to-know-you lines would be no match for the romantic word-smith's. With every sentence that he completed it would become harder and harder to meet a single cutie and impress her at show's end. When J. Juan finished his piece there was absolute silence for about 7 seconds and then suddenly there came a roar of cheering and screaming as the ladies rose to their feet. He walked off of the stage and headed straight out the back doors. 6 women left their seats and scurried out of the room to track the poet down... 3 of them had arrived with other gentlemen. The applause for J. Juan continued in his absence for another 5 minutes and when the hostess was finally able to make herself heard she promptly cancelled the remainder of the event. There were 2 other poets and 2 more singers on schedule for that evening but no one seemed to care in the wake of J. Juan. I never saw him again after that spectacular evening but rumor had it that he was later caught and detained by the Federal Government. Word play that powerful, clever and charismatic could influence people to do ridiculous and dangerous things. His delivery was not just a subject of sheer wonder but more along the lines of a threat to national security. Hail J. Juan. Ms. J.Juan #496. 25Oct2006 ------------------------ Wells Run Dry Dear Miles, four nights ago I got in a pretty huge fight with my girlfriend and I said some pretty unspeakable things to her. We went from room to room just yelling and screaming at each other. We've been together for almost two years now and she's the best thing that's ever happened to me but I guess I just lost it. The whole dispute came to a head when she threw my truck keys at me and told me to get out. I spent that entire night driving and just stewing in my anger. By daybreak I was calming down and an errie sense of deja vu was starting to set in. I had accused her of cheating on me and said some pretty hurtful things. As I sat on the truckbed and watched the sun rise I realized for the very first time that I had no real reason to believe that she had been unfaithful. Sadly, alot of the women in my past had cheated on me and so I just assumed that sooner or later she would follow suit. It's almost like I couldn't help myself. This wasn't the first time that we've argued about this but it was the first time that I'd heard her say some of the things she said and that kind of frightened me because she's a good woman and I really don't want it to end. I talked to a neighbor and he told me that if I didn't think I could truly change then I had no right to ask her to forgive me again. Eventually I went back home and I explained to her that I could now see how unfair my accusations were and that I alone was responsible for the conflict in our house. I begged for her to give me another chance but she just cried and said that she had heard all of this before from me. We've made up since that night but something is diffrent about her. I can really see now what I've been doing to her and I want to try to change my ways. I want to be a better man. I honestly don't know what to do to make her see that this time is different from all of the other times in the past when I told her I'd get it together. She used to tell me that she loved me almost everyday but I haven't heard her say it in about a week. Russel in Orlando. 21Oct2006 ------------------------ Brawler Logistics Miles, did you see the footage of that huge brawl between the Hurricanes and Florida International this weekend? I played some football back in the day and I can certainly understand that scuffles can break out but why on earth would you jump into a huge melee when there are 200 cameras all around you? Did those Miami boys forget that their school is a major football institution which means that every major sports broadcast outlet had eyes on them? Let's say that for some ridiculous reason the authorities didn't have high definition televisions, I somehow still think that they would've been able to pick out the participants simply by looking at the huge white numbers on their backs. Oh yeah, and their last names just happen to be splashed across the backs of their jerseys too. Like I said, I played ball, I understand things get heated but use common sense fellas. I would've ran to the looker room, put on a spare jersey with someone else's number on it, put my helmet back on and then proceeded to kick butt with the comfort of knowing that I was relatively anonymous. Smarten up, guys. Moose in Lakeland. 17Oct2006 ------------------------ Bummin' 101 Dear Miles, I've been noticing that the homeless populous has been increasing in our fair city. This has puzzled me because unemployment hasn't risen much recenty and I'm still seeing help wanted signs in windows everywhere I go. This leads me to believe that folks are turning to the bum way of life voluntarily and I'm beginning to wonder how bad could it be if people are signing up to be professional vagabonds? To be honest, I hate my job. I bust my butt outside all day and when night comes I have little to show for it besides an aching back and the promise of a miserable check by week's end. I've seen those news specials on "fake bums", white collar workers who hit the street corners in their spare time, and I've heard that they make quite a mint. But I also understand that there is an art to being an effective transient. I saw one guy the other day in the median near the traffic light of a major intersection. People would stop at the light waiting to make a left turn and he was right there with a sad face and his handy sign. His location choice was perfect but I could tell he was a fake. First off, his "pleese help me" sign was a piece of posterboard instead of cardboard.... and it was still perfectly white. It was as if he had just stopped in Wal-Greens, bought it, and scribbled his message on it with a Sharpie. He should've at least rubbed it in the dirt a little bit. I just feel that a discarded piece of cardboard should be the bum's notepad of choice. Secondly, he was wearing the exact same kind of thigh-length shorts that middle-aged white men wear with loafers to go sailing in. His shorts indicated to me that he felt that he needed to be comfortable on a hot day. He should've had on pants of some sort. He was also making way too much eye contact. People waiting at the red light already felt awkward enough to give him something with him just standing right there but when he would occassionaly stare someone down as if to say "why aren't you giving me something?" then that would push people past the giving stage and into a fearful/worried stage. I felt he could've been a less-confrontational bum. But in spite of his short-comings, the dollars still came in. I watched him collect about 2 dollars at that light before it turned green. So if the light changes every 3 minutes then he probably got about 40 dollars in one hour. Let's bump it down and say that he got 1 dollar per light change. That's still 20 dollars in one hour! And if he was to space out his begging so that in 7 days he managed to log 40 hours of street time then in one year that would add up to 41,600 dollars... tax free! I know college graduates who don't make that much, Miles. And this guy was doing it half-heartedly, imagine the numbers I could do if I really put my mind to it. Edwin near downtown. 14Oct2006 ------------------------ What It Do Dear Miles, I swear I'm about one more inappropriate gesture away from giving up on the male species all together. Why can't a girl just be left alone? Is someone hiding an obnoxious jerk magnet in my purse or something before I leave the house? It doesn't matter where I go... some weirdo always just happens to pop up and hit me with some ridiculous line. Example. I was in Best Buy just this morning looking at digital cameras when out of the corner of my eye I noticed this dude just glaring at me. I avoided any hint of eye contact and tried to put on my best "don't f--- with me" face but my efforts were practically useless. Even from far away I could almost hear the hampster wheel turning in his brain as he tried to think of an excuse to approach me. I had come into the store to look at a few friggin cameras not to be oggled and preyed upon. He obviously wasn't too quick witted so I figured I'd better try to ease out of the store and to my car before he could think of something. Sadly, he noticed me leaving and mustered together enough courage to run over to me, grab my arm and say "Hey there sexy, what it do?" Miles, I never knew that I could be so unimpressed with only six words. Three thousand years of human evolution and the best line that a guy could come up with to approach me with was "what it do"? Has getting acquainted with someone become a lost art? I used to wake up in the morning and wish that I would meet a prince charming but now I just pray that I can make it to the end of my day without wanting to knee some stranger in the groin for disrespecting me. Ol' School Jada. 12Oct2006 ------------------------ My First Trimester Dear Miles, my wife is well into her second trimester and the baby is developing beautifully. We're both very thankful that everything is okay but I gotta tell you that there have been some tough times. We'd both heard that pregnancy really sends a woman's hormones into overdrive but I had no idea that I'd become a raging, hormonal beast as well. I swear it's like any little annoyance can quickly blow up into an all out slobber-knocker. Last week she threw the TV remote at me twice for leaving the toilet seat up and the week before that she was in the kitchen chucking plastic and regular silverware at me because I forgot to go run errands for her. And whenever she starts up I get pissed and before I know it I'm yelling right back! But we're newlyweds living together for the first time having our very first child and we've both come to understand that it's all a learning process. We have our little battles but at the end of the day we snap back to our senses and look at the bigger picture. We're building something special, amigo.. and it may take a little time. It's weird because we dated for a year and a half and we never had a fight. I think it was during that time that we were able to build a solid foundation and so now even when we fight we both know that foundation exists and it supports us. The battles are tough but not too tough because we know that once the smoke clears the love is still there. So that's my situation right now. You and I definitely gotta chill sometime and really catch up. Be easy, bro. PapaLou in Avalon. 6Oct2006 ------------------------ Scorpio Hey Miles, what's your sign? Are you a scorpio? Wow, I would never have guessed. I've recently gotten into the whole horoscope thing and I'm finding it all quite interesting. I've heard that Scorpios are real passionate but at the same time that passion can get them into hot water. Are you freaky? Do you fight alot? Do you have a hard time controlling your emotions? I think it's cool that millions of people who all just happen to be born on a certain date will all share the exact same mental, emotional, and sexual characteristics. I was dating a guy for about 6 months and he was pretty sweet until I found out that he was a Sagittarius. I'm a libra and I had read somewhere that Libras and Sags only get along when 3 of Jupiter's moons line up with the sun so I figured that we'd never be a real item. Long story short, I dumped him. I guess some things just aren't destined to be. A friend told me that Scorpios and Libras have wonderful chemistry so maybe we can get together sometime! I read about you Scorpios so I feel like I already know you! Candy in Winter Park. 4Oct2006 ------------------------ Nest Evacuation Strategy Dear Miles, sooner or later there comes a time in the life of every little bird when it must learn to spread its wings and venture out from the nest. But because every bird hatched and raised is different and unique, the proper time to make the first solo attempt varies. The bravest of these younglings will eagerly spread forth its feathers in a proud display of readiness and move towards the edge of the nest. But arrogance and pride can easily fog the mind of the young bird causing it to think that its flight time has come when in reality it doesn't even know the basics in wind management, early worm hunting and modern nest construction. At the opposite end of the spectrum are the wee birds that have grown accustomed to the luxuries, safety and comfort of the nest and are in no apparent hurry to fly away and be on their own. At some point, it's up to the mama bird to convince the reluctant flyer that she is ready to begin her retirement and that she could use its section of the nest for a sitting room. If the precious little darling is still not ready to fly then it's up to the mama bird to give the youngling a gentle but firm kick out of the nest. She has given the young bird all of the instruction that she can and now she must trust that it will put her years of advice to good use. The wisest young bird is patient enough to gather as much knowledge as possible yet confident enough to look forward to its first attempt. J. Seigal in Orlando. 29Sep2006 ------------------------ Step-Tuition Dear Miles, I've been dating a woman with a fourteen year old son for almost a year and things have progressed pretty nicely. She doesn't make a significant amount of money and I have a decent job so from time to time she'll suggest that I'll be able to help put her son through college should we ever get married. Whenever the subject comes up she speaks as if I'm already onboard when in reality I'm not so sure I want to. In all honesty Miles, the boy doesn't strike me as being the sharpest knife in the drawer. Maybe she's been blinded by a mother's love (or she thinks that I'm a cash machine) but she doesn't seem to be thinking practically. Tuition for a major 4-year university is not something to be frivilously gambled on a youngster who doesn't believe in addition without a calculator or thinks that a market actually exists for teeth that fall out simply because a dollar appears under his pillow the next morning. He's a sweet kid and all but The boy's got big hands and I'm thinking that they'd be better served turning a wratchet rather then pages from Shakespeare. Am I too much of a realist? Practical Roderick. 28Sep2006 ------------------------ The Keys To Life Dear Miles, a co-worker of mine is an avid jogger. He lives near me and I often see him with his running attire on steadily coasting through our neighborhood's streets. I always toot my car horn at him when I pass. I've seen him jogging at night, in the mornings, at sunset... his dedication is evident. One fine day I approached him on the job and asked what was his motivation for such a dutiful and rigorous ritual. I was expecting to hear some deep, philosophical explanation relating to how discipline of the body leads to a sharpening of the mind and soul but instead he just smiled slyly at me and said "I run a lot so that I can drink as much beer as I want to." Today's lesson, Miles: work hard so that the extras that you enjoy can truly be enjoyed. Thomas in Winter Park. 24Sep2006 ------------------------ I Hate U, Miles 6 Miles, words cannot express my frustration with you sometimes. Seriously. I love your artwork but why are you so reluctant to sell them? You advertise that they're for sale but when someone shows interest in purchasing you start back peddling. What's your problem? Are you short on common sense or are you just plain stupid? It's like you're not expecting anyone to actually want to buy them. This is one of the main reasons why I don't associate with "artists". You spaceballs are all alike. You don't know what the hell you want out of life so you widdle away your productive lives painting on canvases. And when you shiftless, dreamers accidently stumble upon a creation that the rest of the world could enjoy you get defensive and over protective. You're all a bunch of whackados. Screw your precious paintings, sketches, etchings, renderings and whatever else you create during the time when you should be out working a real job. Stop day-dreaming and start making some solid contributions to society, brush boy. Vivian from Casselberry. 22Sep2006 ------------------------ A Gut Feeling Dear Miles, my wife likes to invite her little circle of friends (I call them "The Hen Network") over for dinner parties. Normally, whenever she plans this I try to get as far away from them as possible but sometimes my wife makes me stay and play host-sidekick. Sooner or later the conversation shifts to men and the male-bashing begins. When the hate session really gets rolling my wife always seems to work my weight into the conversation and then before I know it every eye in The Hen Network is focused on my stomach. Miles, I'm not a young scamp anymore. I don't have the time to head to the gym everyday and work-out like I did in college. I come home from a hard day's work and I just want to relax with a cold drink and watch the game. Unfortunately, this regimen has taken it's toll in the form of a few extra inches around my waist. But she's gained weight too! If I were to point out this fact to her I would immediately be labeled an insensitive, non-caring pig and would subsequently be assaulted by yelling, tears, and small household appliances. It's al getting very annoying. If the Hens can't take it like they dish it out then they should just keep their cluckers closed. John G. in Henville. 21Sep2006 ------------------------ Putting Myself Out There Dear Miles, I don't know what to do. I'm a single female who would love to find love but I'm just not having any luck. On one hand, I've got people telling me that I shouldn't be aggressively looking for love because that's not lady-like. And I can kind of understand them. But on the other hand, no one will know I'm even available if I just sit at home all the time. Prince Charmings just aren't as bountiful as they used to be in the old days. Instead of riding around with swords in tow looking for damsels in distress most of them are putting on their headsets and playing X-Box online. It's difficult trying to find a comfortable middle-ground. I don't want guys to think I'm desperate because then they get cocky but I certainly don't want to be overlooked. I'm fighting off every urge I have to go out and by a cat because I know it'll be all downhill from there.. but what's a girl to do? Sincerly, Sherie. 19Sep2006 Dear Miles, I just got through reading your article "Plight of the Good Girl" and I just wanted to echo your sentiment with a story of my own. I work the cosmetics counter at Walgreens. Last week, I noticed this tall, handsome guy looking around in my section and I really wanted to approach him but as usual I was afraid to seem to forward or aggressive. He didn't notice me watching him and I was starting to get worried that if I didn't act quickly he'd disappear. So I mustered up my courage, approached him with a huge smile, and asked if I could help him find anything. I guess I must have been a little too anxious because he smiled and joked about how friendly our service was. He seemed genuinely nice and I tried to be as friendly as possible but after I rang him up he smiled at me again and slowly walked out. I had the sense that he wanted to talk to me more but he wasn't sure if I was showing interest in him or simply being a good employee. I wasn't sure what to do. I definitely wanted to convey interest but I didn't want to push too hard. I hate this whole huge and ridiculous game that has to be played just to get to know someone. Christina near UCF. 18Sep2006 ------------------------ Freefall Miles, I don't know if you followed any of the September 11th programming that the networks had on for the 5th anniversary, but I was just captivated by one particular show that aired on CBS (I believe). It was about these 2 documentary film makers that had just happened to be making a movie following the life of a rookie fireman. When the planes struck the towers the film makers went in with the rescue teams. It basically was a first hand look at how the firefighters were mobilizing during the whole event. For about 2 hours I could not move from my couch. The entire program just seemed unreal but by far the most horrific scenes in my eyes took place as the fire-chiefs were in the lobby of the first tower trying to coordinate the massive rescue operation. Every so often a loud boom would ring out through the lobby and startle all of the men and women standing around. The sound could have been likened to an explosive mortor being detonated right outside. Sadly enough, it was the soul-stirring sound of bodies crashing to the ground. Several of the office workers who were trapped on the floors above the plane impact were jumping. My prayers are still with the families of everyone lost that morning. Dimitri on the sun coast. 12Sep2006 ------------------------ A Killer in Disguise Dear Miles, I was out at a lounge this weekend when I noticed a beautiful young woman standing by herself near the front doorway. She was this seamless Latino/African-American blend that stood soft and slim but very curved at about 5'7. We sat and watched as she turned down random approaching suitors with an easy look of disinterest while steadily sending out text messages from her phone. My wingman noticed that she had a ring on her finger. Someone had made this angel a wife. After a few minutes, a young man sharply dressed in crisp hip-hop attire arrived and escorted her over to the bar. There was no ring on his finger. The 2 exchanged pleasantries for a while but never ordered a drink. The angel's spirits had been lifted by this fellow and after a few minutes the 2 got up and exited holding each other romantically. Now I'm not trying to draw a bunch of ridiculous conclusions here... I'm just connecting some very close dots. And frankly, the whole encounter just seemed foul. But she looked so sweet, Miles. Her calm stance, her polite but clear rejections, her beautiful face... it all screamed sweet innocence. But I guess the moral of that evening's tale was that even angels should be chosen with caution. Somewhere there's an unsuspecting husband who's being devastated without even knowing it yet. Napier near Mount Dora. 11Sep2006 ------------------------ Tell Me Anything Dear Miles, I have a friend who is super honest and I love her because I know that she will always give me her honest opinion. But probably her most endearing quality is not that she is brutally honest but that she knows how to properly deliver her brutal honesty. Body language, voice inflection, and style are everything when it comes to giving someone bad news and she's a master at using all three to get her point across. Alot of people give genuinely good advice or criticism but their delivery sucks and so their messages come out as mean or hurtful. My friend's criticisms aren't overbearing, pompus, or forceful. She never talks down to anyone either. She's totally honest and real about everything and her delivery makes even bad news seem tolerable. Jennifer in College Park. 7Sep2006 ------------------------ We Got Guns Mr. Miles, I was recently in a heated discussion with a co-worker of mine about the importance of our right to bear arms. As a proud citizen of the United States of America I consider it both a God-given honor and my sworn duty to upcold the constitution of this sacred land and carry a fire-arm. Guns are what the foundation of this nation was built upon, good sir. Why, if it wasn't for our precious right to carry them then half my beloved Dixieland would still belong to the In'jins and Mexicans. If it wasn't for guns how else would we be able to celebrate America the Beautiful on her birthday every year? If it wasn't for guns I reckon any ol' body would be able to just walk square up to my house and come on in and make love to my wife. Now how would I be able to stop them without my trusty Smith and Wesson? Take all of the hoopla and propoganda about how household guns do more killin' then saving and throw it out the window. If someone shoots themselves accidently then that's the good Lord's way of telling us that person was supposed to die. All of my children have been properly trained in gun usage since they could poop by themselves. A fire-arm on the kitchen counter is as common place as dinnerware and everyone under my roof understands how to use it. The right to bear arms is what separates our great land from the Communists. This is America and America was boldly built with blood, sweat and tears. And much of that blood and a lot of those tears were made possible by guns, sir. God bless America. J.R. in Bithlow. 5Sep2006 ------------------------ Ol' School Doesn't Change Dear Miles, Ol'School doesn't change so don't ask. And if you do ask Ol'School to change then you better not expect much of it. Ol'School was raised old school and believes that there's really only one way to do almost anything... the old school way. Ol'School has a system that works for Ol'School and this system is not open to discussion, nor interpretation, nor evaluation. Unfortunately, it may be subject to exploitation. Everyone loves and adores Ol'School but only from a distance. Ol'School loves and adores everyone but is inwardly disgusted and annoyed that everyone shuns the Ol'School way. You can try to bump heads with Ol'School but you will inevitably lose because Ol'School cannot accept defeat from a non-Ol'Schooler. Perfectly valid counterpoints made to Ol'School's doctrine today will somehow seem to vanish by tomorrow because Ol'School's logic is self-sustaining and self-justifying. Ol'School's system has worked for Ol'School so Ol'School sees no reason to even entertain notions of change. Proposals of actions that do not conflict but are merely alternatives to the Ol'School way will be rejected. Criticism of the Ol'School way will be rejected. Ol'School is unyeilding, opinionated, and indistructable. Ol'School demands respect. You must love Ol'School and eventually you do with all of your heart. So it was and so it shall be. Anna Mae in Orlando. 4Sep2006 ------------------------ Prehistoric Ice Man Dear Miles, recently my girlfriend and I were sitting on a small bench outside of a restaurant doing nothing in particular when some guy walked by and made a comment directed at us. His remark was playful but somewhat smug and certainly uncalled for. I happened to have a large cup of cubed ice in my hand that I had brought from inside and when the guy got about halfway across the street from where we were sitting I lobed a cube at him. I had to return his playful, smug gesture. My girlfriend laughed when the ice cube hit him in the back. He turned around, thougt for a minute, and proceeded to pick up the ice cube and thorw it back at me. Instinctively, my hand was in my cup digging for another large cube to throw at him again. My girlfriend saw me and told me not to do it but before she could comeplete her sentence my cube was flying playfully and smugly at the guy. It landed right below his neck. As expected, he picked it up and threw it back at me. My girlfriend screamed at me and told me to stop (the last cube had struck her leg) and the guy started laughing. So I did what any self-respecting man would do, I plled out 3 more ice cubes and hurled them at the stranger. My girlfriend looked at me in a confused anger and told me that she couldn't understand why I had to do things like that. I quite calmly told her that some things simply boil down to us being from 2 different genders that have totally different ideologies. I didn't expect her to understand because being overly competitive is is a trait that is embedded in the brains of most men. It's why professional sports and wars exist. It's why paupers strive to be kings and why kings never seem to have enough riches. I was not about to let this guy get the best of me. He attacked, I counter-attacked. He counter-attacked, I counter-attacked harder. If his ice cube grazed my shoulder then my ice cube would hit his chest and if his ice cube hit my forehead then my ice cube would go into his mouth. Losing was not an option. My girlfriend could see that I was moving into a zone that she knew nothing about (nor could she control) and I think it bothered her. But did she honestly expect me to supress centuries of instinctual programming simply because she said so? I could understand her request in certain situations but this was not one of them and so the battle was on. Later on that evening she kept quizzing me for an answer as to why I had to better then someone I've never met before and I always answered simply because I'm a guy. I guess that's all I needed. Michael the IceMan. 2Sep2006 ------------------------ Gale Force Salvation Dear Miles, I'm a roofer here in the central Florida area and I have to admit that I think this new storm Ernesto is right on time. For the past few weeks my wife has been nagging me because she still has to drive around in a 2006 Mercedes E-class while many of the other roofer wives have already upgraded to the 2007 editions. How quickly she forgets that before those storms hit in 2004 she was happy with her 1996 Ford station wagon. Now I don't want this to seem like I'm praying for another disasterous hurricane but quite frankly I do need to see some strong winds at least because business is starting to die down. Just yesterday I found myself turning down only 3 potential customers. Last year around this time there was such demand that I was saying no to at least 3 people every hour. Thank heavens the storms are finally coming. Roofer Dan in Cocoa. 29Aug2006 ------------------------ Tomorrow May Be Dear Miles, today was the day. Today was the day that I had been having dreams about 3 years ago. 2 years ago, I decided to finally start listening to myself. I was sure that a day like today would be here soon and so I began vigorously preparing for it. 18 months ago someone I never met before told me that a person like me would never see a day like today. I scoffed at that someone. 1 year ago a day came that was almost like today but not quite. It was a grand day indeed but I was somewhat disheartened because it was no today. 6 months ago it dawned on me that my preparations weren't as vigorous as they were a year and half ago. 5 months and 3 weeks ago I met another someone who told me that a day like today would never come and I began to wonder. 3 months ago I met an inspiration who assused me that in one week I would see a day like today and instantly my preparations were back up their once brilliant vigor. 2 months ago, a day like today stil had not come and I found out that that very same inspiration was really no inspiration at all. 1 month ago I stopped preparing for a day like today because that day was just like all of the yesterdays before it. So imagine my surprise and horror when today came and it turned out to be the very day that I had dreamed up 3 years ago. Today was that day. Today was supposed to be the day. But soon enough today will become a yesterday and tomorrow's sunrise will usher in a brand new today. I'm not foolish enough to think that tomorrow will be another today but someone I met once told me that tomorrow just may be better then today so I think I'm going to start preparing for it just in case. Charlette in Orlando. 28Aug2006 ------------------------ I Believe Dear Miles, I found it interesting to see you finally doing a piece on religion. It is always a hot button issue because no matter how you slice it everything simply boils down to individual preferences and beliefs. For the record, I'm a christian and my doctrine tells me that this world and everything in it was created by a single God a long time ago. My God allows me to decide my own path in this life but, much like a parent highly in tune with the seed that they've raised, he ultimately knows my path. Unfortunately Miles, the book that my doctrine is based from is largely open to interpretation and it is in the nature of man to exploit this to reap money, power and respect. So with this in mind, I am slow to follow most "preachers of the word". I do not force my beliefs on others because I believe that everyone is entitled to their own beliefs. However if someone is observant of how I carry myself and would like to know from where I draw my strength then I am never shy to tell. To that same extent, I rarely take on challengers to my faith because what I believe in is fundamentally so simplistic. I admit that my doctrine leaves certain questions unanswered, such as why would a parent create children with a will to destroy themselves, but my answers to these unanswerable questions are concise and acceptable for me. Just as the human brain could not fathom that the earth was not a flat 500 years ago, there are certain things that it cannot fathom right now. We may try to grasp such terms as "heaven" and "eternity" but I believe that we really have no concept of the time and space that these realities occupy. Instead, we indulge ourselves in our own fabrications of the luxuries and rewards that we will find when our time is done. Simply stated, there are some answers we will never have until the race is over. I have friends who scoff at my notions and write them off as circular logic. A lot of people need more then just blind faith and I can understand that. I've often thought of turning to science for answers to my unanswerable questions but I've found that oddly enough their unknowns are handled quite similar to mine. Astrologists cannot prove that dark matter is a physical, tangible substance but so many base theories of galactic movement and evolution on it's existence. They have no evidence (yet) to back up it's existence save for all of the data that says that it should exist and ultimately what they have at this moment are notions based on the faith that the substance exists.... but we cannot prove that it exists. Is this no different then my simple faith based doctrine? Some get lost in the pagentry that is modern religion and develop a distaste for simple faith while the holy zealots emerce themselves too deeply in their philosophies and loose touch with the common man. I can certainly understand the beliefs of both sides and I look down on neither. I simply choose to believe that it's all for a greater good and so I'm all for the greater good. I know that I cannot walk the path that I choose by myself and so every now and again I reach out for help. I affiliate myself with no one but myself because my religion is for me. Wayne from the westside. 22Aug2006 Dear Miles, I just read your article on religion and I must say that I expected more from someone whom I considered to be very open-minded. I do not condemn anyone for their beliefs. Christian, Muslim, whatever. This is a free country and we're free to believe in what we choose. But I do take offense when I am condemned for choosing to believe simply in myself. I believe in just being a good person. I will not devote a lifetime of service and admiration to a man simply because he wears a fabulous shiny robe and speaks in front of hundreds or thousands every week. I'm sorry to disappoint the millions who blindly heed the every beacon and call of their priests, pastors, and popes simply because their religion's doctrine says that they should. Who do they think forged the very guidelines for whorship that they follow? Priests, pastors and popes. Underneath all of the sequence robes and long taylored suits are regular men just like me. And when regular men like me get power then they desire to keep power. Absolute power corrupts absolutely and these religious figureheads are being granted absolute power. Unfortunately, faith is a very lucrative product and the vast majority of people are like sheep waiting to be led. They prey on the down-trodden and under-privilaged by feeding them the promise of riches to come. Thanks but no thanks, Miles. I think that I will continue to live my life and do as much good as I can while I can but pardon me if I choose not to contribute to the big business of religion. Wilson G. just outside of Hopeland. 22Aug2006 Dear Miles, I saw your article on modern religion and I enjoyed it however I felt as though you could have definitely been more resolute in your delivery. You are in the unique position of reaching thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of lost souls and they need to know and understand without a shadow of a doubt that there is no other way to get to heaven then by confessing Jesus Christ as Lord and savior. Your readers need to know that every bit of suffering on this earth is but preparation for a greater life to come. An eternal life. They need to know that it's not about the riches that they can amass here on earth but about sending up timbers to build a castle with our Father. We must battle the flesh that beckons us for it will ultimately lead to an eternity of sulfur and brimstone. The time is now, Miles. We must reach out to our brothers and sisters. All you have to do is turn on the nightly news and you will see that we are in the last days. We must spread the message of God's eternal love now while we have breath in our lungs. God be with you. Ms. Jenkins in South Florida. 22Aug2006 ------------------------ The Monday Night Setup Miles, I've been making an extra effort to spend quality time with my kids. In fact, I've bombarded them with affection and attention and now they're starting to grow annoyed with me. I've convinced my wife to follow her dream and sign up for Monday evening creative writing courses at the community college. I've been putting a few dollars aside from each paycheck since March and have managed to save up a nice little piece of change. The pieces are all falling into place. The kids don't want to talk to me, the wife won't be around on Monday nights, and I've gracefully amassed the cash to purchase the NFL Network's Full Season deluxe package. Football season will be here soon... and my household will be ready. Halleluyah, halleluyah. Drew in Apopka. 20Aug2006 ------------------------ I Hate U, Miles 5 Dear Miles, I think your articles are decent but I enjoy reading the editorial responses more. Correction, I used to enjoy reading them more. You used to post hilarious letters that I could relate to and look forward to reading but lately I'm seeing nothing but over-sensitive bullsh--. Seriously, I think you've become some type of self-righteous, low-budget, Dr. Phil wannabe. Every reader letter that you post seems to be some sissie crying about his relationship or some broad moaning about her feelings. C'mon man, you're contributing to the pusification of America. If I want to read about decorative, self-help tips then I'll pick up one of my wife's wussy Flower-Power magazines. Am I honestly supposed to believe that of all the reader letters that you get that these are supposed to be the creme of the crop? Man up and start posting some real material you deuche. Bronson in disgust. 14Aug2006 ------------------------ You Owe Yourself Wassup again Miles, I'm gonna be short and to the point with this one. It's for all the ladies who aren't being fair to themselves. If ur moments with him are pure ecstacy but the time inbetween them is uncomfortably long, uncertain and worrisome all because he's trippin' then u need to be careful that ur not addicted. If he's only seeing u on his time then he's selfish. If he's not returning ur phone calls then he's lacking common courtesy. If ur afraid that ur calling too much then u probably are. If he stands u up without reason then he's unaccaptable. And if something way beyond ur desire is telling u that he just isn't doing u right then u should probably stop fighting and listen. Malcolm in Orlando. 13Aug2006 ------------------------ Characters From My Pass 'Shell in Fort Lauderdale. 12Aug2006 ------------------------ The Helpsphere Dear Miles, thanks for the letter. You're welcome and I'm glad I could help out. But to be perfectly honest with you there's really nothing that you can do to "pay me back". Sometimes things are done for us and there's absolutely no way that the debt can be repaid. In fact, I don't expect any type of return gesture from you. Instead, send your blessings to someone else. As I was able to lend you a hand, use your individual gifts and help out someone else. Hopefully, that person, in turn, will build on the blessing that they received from you and extend a helping hand to another person. And so on the cycle should go and then one day it will reach someone in a whole different space, time, and position who will offer me assistance when I need it most. Bad news spreads like cancer, maybe we can propagate good deeds as well. Cheers. Annette. 11Aug2006 ------------------------ The Purification Scenario Dear Miles, follow the flow. We can't stand the thought of drinking water from the tap so we spend millions upon billions to purify whatever comes out of the kitchen sink faucet. All is well. Then we realize that public fountains and water coolers don't purify so we spend billions more on portable purified water. All is well again. Then there comes a point when we feel that our exteriors should be drenched in the same pureness that we put in our interiors. We must bathe and rinse in the purest of water as well so we spend millions more upgrading our homes so that only the purest comes out of every sink, faucet and showerhead. After a while our bodies are only used to the cleanest, freshest, purest, sparkliest water and all is well once again. One day an ordinary strain of the common cold comes along and descimates the populous because our bodies have gotten so used to purity that they've stopped building the proper antibodies to combat and protect us from the everyday virus. Still with me? Good. Let's continue. Little Joe Humdrum never drinks purified anything. He fills his water jugs every night with water straight from the tap and gets picked on everyday by every purified soul around him for his disgusting habit. But Little Joe Humdrum's body has grown quite strong fighting off the germs, microbes, and microscopic nasties that he pours into his system everyday as he drinks his untolerable water from his filthy tap and so when people start dropping like flies all around him because they've caught a simple cold it is Little Joe Humdrum who must play doctor and tend to their ailing. Oddly enough, as they lie in the hospitals squirming in discomfort they somehow find the strength to give Little Joe Humdrum a scornful look as he hands them a glass of water. They quizically hold the glass up to the light and ask Little Joe Humdrum "Is this from the tap?". Silent P. in Pine Hills. 8Aug2006 ------------------------ Lyrical Intercourse 2 Miles, I just wanted to breifly respond to the letter from Shavonne that you posted earlier. Now she didn't say it specifically but it's pretty safe to assume that she was talking about hip-hop music. First off, she has no right to make a blanket statement about all music in this genre. A few bad apples should never spoil the whole bunch. Secondly, she acts as though this generation invented sexually themed music. What a hypocrite! Didn't she hail from the era of Marvin Gaye, Al Green, Aerosmith, Prince, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Barry White, etc? What does she think those guys were singing about? Does she honestly believe that every song a female artist put out back in her day sounded like Aretha's R-E-S-P-E-C-T? I think not. The vast majority of her generation's music was about making love and, yes, shaking your "groove thing". Tell that narrow-minded old bitty to give her kids back their friggin' IPods and to stop condemning the same flavor of music that she "just sang along too" back in her day. Chris in Richmond Heights. 8Aug2006 ------------------------ Flip Flop Divas Dear Miles, I love my girl but she drives me nuts with her obsession for flip-flops. I don't think she even owns a single pair of tennis shoes. She just rolls around everywhere in flip flops. I don't know why it annoys me but it does. We're chillin on my couch and she drapes her leg over mine with a rusty old flip-flop dangling off of her foot. I just want to scream and throw it out of a window. She's so gutter. She's got heels for nice occasions and what not but majority of the time, no matter what the event, no matter what the hour, no matter what the temperature, it's flip flops. She loudly clips and clops and slides where ever we go. I used to love to give foot rubs and suck toes to get her in the mood but now all I can think of are those dogs crammed into a hot,sweaty flip flop allll day long. I take her to the upscale malls to go shoe shopping and she only comes out with more designer flip flops. Then she gets on the phone and brags about them to her other flip-flop-wearing friends. I'm thinking about moving her up to colder climates where she'll have no choice but to wear regular shoes but she'd probably just put really thick socks on and keep right on clip-clopping. Jean Pierre on Semoran. 6Aug2006 ------------------------ Lyrical Intercourse Miles, I have 2 teenage kids and quite frankly I'm apalled and horrified by some of stuff that they blare in their IPods. I get particularly disgusted when I hear my little girl singing along to songs that encourage treating women as nothing more then sexual objects. I question her about these songs all of the time and I always get the same response: "I don't even listen to the words, mom. I just love the beat." So by her logic it's cool to walk around proudly chirping about having unprotected group sex and whorshipping the devil as long as it has a nice melody accompanying it. Give me a break. I couldn't take it anymore so I recently confiscated both of their IPods. Popular music today is nothing more then blatant instructions on sex. If these young women aren't being explicitly told how to sexually gratify a man then they're being taught how to practice the act by "gettin' low and touching their toes" or "shaking their laffy taffy". The music of my generation just had so much more substance. This crap they feed to these poor kids nowanddays is just preaching promiscuity and degredation. If this kind of stuff is allowed to progress then the young women of tomorrow will not stand a chance. Shavonne in Orlando. 5Aug2006 ------------------------ Low Fidelity Dear Miles, I read a copy of your article on Infidelity and I definitely agree with you. If my girl cheats on me then that means that she's given up on us in my eyes. How could I continue to be in love with someone who obviously doesn't love me enough to stay faithful. I know a lot of people say that it's best to forgive and forget but that's not the easiest thing to do for everyone. I work long hours and I need to be able to trust that my woman is not off hugged up with someone else. If she's cheated on me then that trust has been shattered and no matter how hard she tried I don't think I'd ever be able to see her in the same light again. How could I focus on being a success with the thought of her infidelity looming over my head ever time we're apart? I can't afford the stress. I've never been in this situation, thank God, but if I was I'd like to think that I wouldn't hold grudges or seek out revenge on her. I'd be a man about it and just leave. If she's cheated then she's stopped looking to me to as her sole provider so I see no reason to stay. If there's no trust, then it's all lost. Be easy, man. Jay Sol in Winter Park. 29Jul2006 Dear Miles, I guess I should begin by saying that I am the other woman. I've been seeing someone who I know is married for almost 5 months now. I used to convince myself that it was me that he truely loved and that he would one day leave his wife to be with me but as the weeks turned into months I started to realize that it simply would not happen. I foolishly gave my heart to a man that could never really be mine. Please don't consider me a bad person because I'm not. I guess deep down it just bothered me having no one to love. I hated coming home after long days without a soul to confort me. I hated going to bed at night without someone there to hold me until I fell asleep. I just wanted someone to love. When I first met him I had no idea he was married. He was everything that I needed and I gave all of myself to him. The news of his family struck me like a blow to the face but I guess I had fallen too far to just turn him away. I know my sins and I know that he may never be completely mine but I cannot deny how he makes me feel. Love isn't always right around the next corner, Miles. I've waited a long time for someone who really means something to me and now that I've found him I need to keep him even if it means that I must share him. I read your article and I guess I just had to write you. Please don't just cast women like myself into the fire for only wanting what so many others take for granted. I cannot justify the actions of my heart, I only ask that you try to understand Misty. 29Jul2006 Dear Miles, I just got through reading your article on Infidelity and I while I certainly don't promote cheating I guess there are certain aspects of it that I can understand. Both my parents and grandparents were in marriages where either they simply could not keep it together or there was infidelity, so I must admit that I'm a skeptic of the concept of monogomy until "death do you part". It just doesn't seem to work. Let's push the emotional end of it to the side for a minute and look solely at the physical. I've been with my girl for over a year now and I love her but I'm still very attracted to other women. I haven't acted on these temptations but quite honestly I'm looking 10 or 15 years down the line and wondering how long I'll be able to hold true to that statement. And this is not to reflect poorly on her either because she's a phenominal woman. But I guess I just cannot honestly say that I could be satisfied by one person for the next 40 or 50 years. One person? No matter how good the person is, after a while things get routine. It's inevitable. I guess a good analogy would be to say that I really love to eat steak. Well-done with onions smothered over it... it's fantastic. I love it. But could I really eat steak everyday for the rest of my natural life? People need change. Sometimes I just want a burger. Again, I'm not a supporter of infidelity but I can certainly understand how it happens. Bailey in Metro West. 28Jul2006 ------------------------ The Hefty Uprising Dear Miles, did you hear about the Fat Sniper that they recently apprehended up in Indiana ? His capturing only lends fuel to a theory that I've been piecing together for some time. Statistics indicate that as many as 64 percent of Americans are overweight or obese. The numbers of "larger Americans" are increasing by the minute. Miles, please listen when I tell you that a revolution is coming. For years popular culture has made them second class citizens. Ever since the emergence of the 5'11, 95 pound supermodel in the late 70s, the pressure has been on to look either thin, fit, or trim in order to be considered "somebody". In this new millennium their frustration levels have got to be reaching a breaking point. They are forced to exist in a society that encourages eating by offering unusually large portions of food at hard-to-resist, wholesale prices. Ironically, it is this same society that punishes them for succumbing to culinary tempation, over-consuming and then inevitably becoming out of shape. I'm a thin fellow myself but I have hefty friends and they're talking. What was once a whisper is turning into a roar. I may be one of the first to go for revealing this information but I feel it is my duty. There have been meetings. While I have never been granted unrestricted access to these meetings, I have listened covertly from the sils of open windows and through ventalation ducts. The obese are networking, plotting, and slowly mobilizing. Their leaders scorn the American people for decades of injustices against their hefty brethren with the passion and fervor of a young Adolf Hitler. Naturally, these meetings are amply catered and they always end with chants of defiance. They are fed up with having to book 2 seats for travel instead of 1. No longer will they be shamed into paying higher then premium prices for a salad when what their heart desires is the buffet. They will not continue to awkwardly laugh when they are reduced to being the butt of jokes in social groups or on televised sitcoms. They want change and they want it now. The time has come. The Fat Sniper was the first sign. Is it not a strange coincidence that all of his victims were under 120 pounds? I think not. Please get the word out. The revolution is coming. The Slim Watchman. 26Jul2006 ------------------------ Big Brother Knows Best Dear Miles, if I've got a problem with some guys around the corner and I decide go over and beat the crap out of them then who am I to play the role of mediator should my little brother one day decide to go and do the same thing. They've been picking on him and now he's decided to use his very large allowance to load up on water balloons and take the battle to their block. Am I really a neutral party? Can I really tell him to do as I say but not as I do? They don't like him very much because he's the youngest child in my family and therefore very privilaged. So will they really take my pleas to stop the neighborhood feuding to heart? So what the heck are we expecting Condi to do? So here's the dilemna: I want to be respected by all in the neighborhood but I've still gotta be loyal to my little brother. I think a compromise in order. Little brother, in 2 weeks you will stop feuding with those guys around the corner. But until that time comes feel free to hurl all the water balloons that you can carry. As a matter of fact, here, have some of mine. But here's the kicker, Miles. What if my little brother strikes them so hard that they are shamed into leaving the neighborhood. Whereever they go they will teach their children to hate my little brother and one day the ir displaced children will vow to lob water balloons at the children of my little brother. And so on the cycle will go. Forever. Azir in Orlando. 24Jul2006 ------------------------ Positive Spin Miles, have you heard about the power outages up in Queens? I hear that well over 70,000 people have had their lights out for a week. I heard on the radio this morning that Mayor Bloomberg said that "it'll be done when it's done" and I just started laughing. That's not exactly the usual positive spin on matters that you like to hear from a local politician but I can just imagine him being asked the same blasted questions over and over and over from every little reporter, columnist and journalist in the tri-state area. I guess they just don't know when the situation will be rectified yet but how many times can you tell the meda that. And the better question would be how many times could you say it politely. After the 5 hundreth question I would probably just snap "Listen you morons, I JUST answered that question! Weren't you listening? Are you really dumb enough to think that the situation has changed in the 2 minutes since I was just asked. No! Don't be stupid" Harriett from the N.Y. 23Jul2006 ------------------------ Blood, Sweat, and Quesadillas Dear Miles, I had some leftover baked chicken in the fridge that I didn't want to just throw out so I asked a friend of mine what to do with it and he recommended that I make quesadillas with it. I'd heard of the popular HIspanic (or SouthWestern?) dish but I've never attempted to make it before. Long story short, I made them and they came out absolutely delicious. In fact, they were almost too good. I don't know if I was just dumbfounded at how such a simple mix of ingredients could create an explosion of taste in my mouth or if I had been working way too hard that week and my senses were just haywire, but I just kept on making and eating the little devils. I really probably shouldn't have bought a 100 pack of tortillas. After about the sixth or seventh quesadilla I had slipped into this sour-cream induced altered state of conciousness and I was just consuming them on auto-pilot. When I came to the next morning I was sprawled out on the couch wearing only my underwear and black dress sock. There were large chunks of chicken all over the floor and cheddar and tortilla shell residue all over my face and chest. The worst part in all of this was that I was supposed to take a friend of mine out last night. I don't even think I called her to explain where I was and if I did I shudder to think what I could have possibly said while in that state. You think she'll be mad? Demetrius. 20Jul2006 ------------------------ Bad Guys Sleep Better Dear Miles, do you know how easy it is to be a bad guy? How easy would it be to just be selfish 24/7? Wouldn't that be lovely? To be able to interact with people, say what u feel, and do what u feel all without having to worry about the feelings or emotions of others would be like the ultimate freedom right? How soundly do bad guys sleep at night? Stone cold manipulators, womanizers, players. How easy is it for them to boost loving/trusting hopefuls to the brink of heaven only to snatch away all supports at the last minute... all because their needs had all suddenly been met. And afterwards, no guilt, no remorse... only self-satisfaction because "I got what I wanted". A clear conscience makes for better rest. No matter what a bad guy does, if he's okay with it then he sleeps soundly. The good guys don't rest easy... not when someone has been led astray. And so just to ensure that people aren't led astray and that they can get a good night's rest, the good guys go into a preventative state. That means that they have to take extra steps to make sure that people don't get the wrong ideas, that affairs are handled correctly and that hearts don't get broken. They have to sacrifice their desires for the greater good. Unselfishness seems unnatural and it's a dayum shame. I guess the real question is how long can good guys boost others before they begin to wonder who's lifting them? And if all u do is boost all day then evetually the body aches and it's hard to get a good night's rest when ur muscles are sore. Sam on a good Friday. 14Jul2006 ------------------------ The Country Music Proponent Ayo Miles, what it do? It's ya boy, MC KnifeWork. I finally think I've figured out this whole music thing, holmes. I've been watching BET, MTV and MTV2 for 2 months straight, I've been to the clubs, I've rolled through the hood and I know I have what it takes to be a serious gangster rapper and start gettin' this money. Yo, all I have to do is talk about distributin' crack and runnin' hoes and it's payday! It's mad easy son! Now don't hit me with that crap about how music is loosin is soul cause u know I gotta get this paper. I'll worry about the evolution of my people later. Right now I need to put 7 flat-panels and 2 XBox's in my E-class and that stuff don't come cheap yo. Smell me? I went to a major corporate label and told them what I was gon' spit about and they gave me a deal right there on the spot. It's bananas! So my album is on the way and here're some of the songs that I've already recorded: Pass Me My Crack, Guns in My Carrot Cake, Ur Ho Or My Ho, Wasting Money, Crack and Pop Tarts, Who's Ho Dis Is?, Where Would I Be (Without My Crack), and Hoes and Crack (The Extended Remix). Now I know thas not a whole lotta songs but after I throw an intro and about 12 skits on there then I'll have a complete street banger! I'm still thinking about a title but best believe it'll probably have something to do with either hoes or crack! I've tried the "real job" thing and it just didn't work, son. It didn't feel natural. I'm from South Dakota but somehow rapping about being raised in the inner city slums and pipelining crack just feels right to me. Or is it that big ol' check I'm getting? Who cares. Ayo son, new MC Knifework album dropping soon! Don't download it yo! Go get u a copy. Knifework Entertainment! Stab-Ya-Brotha Records! The summer is ours! Holla! One. MC Knifework aka Millhouse W. Nortenson Jr. 12Jul2006 ------------------------ Why'd I Do That Dear Miles, all too often we do things that puzzle ourselves and instead of diving into the reasons for our actions we brush them off and keep moving. Everyone's got issues on some level or another but the real question is what are we doing in response to them. I've heard about highly promiscuous women who bounce from one boyfriend to the next because they were deprived of the love of a strong male pressence while growing up. These women crave the attention from their mostly unsuitable suitors but at the same time they need the involvement and attention like the air that they breathe. Or how about a good male friend of mine who simply will not commit to a woman. He fell madly in love with the wrong soul-mate years ago and got his heart destroyed. Now he's developed serious trust issues with women and refuses to give even the most wonderful of women his heaart. In both examples, when the pattern starts becoming obvious, the individuals start to think to themselves "What's wrong with me?" Alot of people simply refuse to take a look at habits that even they have a problem with. I have my tendencies as well but I think I take serious, honest steps towards getting at the roots and reasons for my actions. I ask myself "why do I do that?" Self exploration can be a very scary thing and maybe that's why people rarely venture deeper then the surface of themselves. But I believe that understanding is a key first step. Why do we do things that puzzle ourselves? "Why do I cheat on my spouse?" "Why would I rather watch a tradgedy on the evening news then a story of triumph?" "Why do I hate to come here?" We should be the foremost experts of ourselves and if there are mysteries within ourselves then we're not taking the time or energy to investigate. Granted, knowing why doesn't always guarantee that our unexplainable tendencies will be instantly elimintaed but understanding ourselves and the root of our issues is a great starting point. How can we even think of moving towards a solution when we have yet to know the problem? Why'd I write this? Because somewhere someone needs to know that they have investigations to begin. Augustus at sunrise. 10Jul2006 ------------------------ World Cup 2006 Dear Miles, I just read your article on World Cup soccer and I was highly disaapointed. I certainly didn't expect to hear the typical close-minded American opinion on soccer coming from you. My parents moved to the States from Italy when I was young and they brought their passion for the world's game with them. I've been a fan of the Italian team ever since I can remember. Miles, soccer is the most popular sport on earth and yet America as a whole somehow just thumbs her nose at it. Why? Because Americans can't sit through a whole game that finishes with a score of 1 to 0? How ridiculous is that? What does that say about American culture? The game is so much more then just scoring frequently but most poeple here do not have the patience or the understanding to just open up themselves to something different. Miles, put away your preconceived notions and just sit down and watch the game. If you can't see and appreciate the game as the nonstop symphany of teamwork and coordination that it is then maybe you're not as smart as I tought you were. Everyone on earth values the game except the U.S. it seems. Maybe the rest of the world really isn't crazy. Maybe it's the U.S. Just my opinion. Ciao. Carmella in Cocoa Beach. 9Jul2006 Dear Miles, I agree with you about soccer. The world cup is a ridiculous waste of time. I don't care how many nations it brings together, any sport that can go on for an hour and a half without anyone scoring is a waste of time. They would've been better off giving the water they use to maintain the field to some starving kids in some third world nation. An hour and a half of play and in the end all they have to show for it are a bunch of sweaty guys in dirty knee-high socks and hot pants. And doesn't soccer have the highest fan fatality rate of any sport? The fans riot every other game. And this is supposed to be the world's game? No thank you. I'll stick to good ol' American football. Brett in Deltona. 9Jul2006 ------------------------ Man Laws Dear Miles, I see that you and your cohorts over at Ghostlife have decided to print out a list of Man Laws. Kudos. I too am a member of the I.C.M. Local 407. I was recently visiting a long time friend of mine who just got his own place and I must admit that things got a little awkward between us while sitting to watch baseball because he, being a new host, was unversed (or simply unaware) of sport-watching couch ethics. The following are some additional Man Laws on simple couch etiquette that I hope you will add to your list for the benefit of all mankind. 1) When 2 guys are sitting on a couch there must always be a buffer zone equivolent in length to one cushion or the span of a human arm, which ever is greater. 2) There should NEVER be more then 2 men per couch unless all are watching a sporting event and every other available seat is taken. Should there be more then 2 per couch then you are required to lean forward if the man to your immediate right is leaning back. 3) Your knee should never touch the knee of a man sitting next to you unless he is related to you. 4) Regardless of couch size, 3 men may NOT share a couch if not partaking in a sporting event. The 3rd man must either take the floor or stand. Period. 5) If a host is gracious enough to let you crash on his couch for the night, under no circumstances should you ask for a blanket, comforter, or "blankey". If the host decides of his own accord that it is cold and that you may need cover then so be it. 6) No single man will have any type of frilly knitted or crocheted decoration draped across his couch 7) Buffalo wing stains are a prime symbolization of manhood and whenever possible should be left untreated on the couch. 8) No man will have more then 3 throw pillows on his couch. Robert from the International Council of Manhood - Local 407. 2Jul2006 ------------------------ Captivation and Progression Dear Miles, have you ever been captivated by someone to no end? My first love and I parted ways years ago but I've never been able to push her too far away from my heart. In the years following our seperation I found myself unjustly and unfairly comparing women I dated to her because she helped set an unusually high standard for how cool and comfortable 2 people could be together. Though I still find her to be as lovely and accepting as the first day I met her, I'm finally coming to understand that a lot of time has passed since we were pups and that those golden days of bundled substance and nonsense are but memories. While wonderful, they are not to be jealously coveted and sought after but rather stored away and cherished. I know that she will not be single for much longer because women with such calm and grace are a rare commodity and so I've come to accept the notion of another man fulfilling her the same way that I once did if not moreso. Instead of inwardly longing for some type of unlikely, magical reunification I think it's time I started praying solely for her happiness. I want to apoligize to her for any pain I've caused in my selfishness in the past and am resolving to be satisfied with what was. Undoubtably, one day I will marry and begin building something special yet different with some other uniquely wonderful person but she will always be with me in some very small form or fashion. I'll progress but I'll also remember, I'll smile, and I'll ador e. She was, is, and always will be a blessing on my life. Miles, I would really appreciate it if you printed this letter. She loves your column and I know she will see it. Cheers. Wayne from the westside. 1Jul2006 ------------------------ Wigless Miles, today I was out and about and I saw an elderly woman with a wig on that was fashioned to look like it belonged on the head of a twenty-something hip-hop video vixen. I was deeply disturbed by this. The short, curly whisps of brown, burgundy, and red highlights just looked out of place in contrast to her wrinkled forehead and sagging checkline. But I was even more troubled at the thought of the mere existence of such wigs on the heads of younger women my age. The notion of a sharply dressed, sweetly fragranced, beautiful female with a wig on just sends tremors down my spine and rings of one word to me: deception. If she's suffering from some type of illness or is an entertainer who must rapidly change appearances then I can condone wig-usage but in any other circumstance I prefer o' naturale. I've been having nightmares about making love to a wig-wearer. In them we embrace and I reach up and snatch off the wig in a fit of passion. I open my mouth to scream but no sounds come out as I sit sweating with the frizzy item in my hands. Matthew in Deception. 30Jun2006 ------------------------ Teacher Strike Day Dear Miles, I'm a teacher in west Orange County and I have a proposal that could turn our school systems around. Anyone who's been to a public school recently can tell you that education is a far cry from what it should or used to be. The position of teacher is simply not a valued and respected occupation anymore in this nation. I cannot understand how the vast majority of teachers are underpaid when you consider the fact that we're the ones who are literally shaping the future. I'm sick and tired of being cursed out when I ask for homework, stressing out because I'm not catering to the FCAT, picking up condoms in the bathroom, and being outright disrespected by kids who pour their lunch money into the on-campus junk food and energy drink vending machines. And I'm just an elementary school teacher! Foolish lawsuits and cowardly council members have stripped teachers of their power and now I've decided to take it back. So on July 5th I propose that teachers all around the county unite and take part in my Teacher Strike Day. Teachers, on July 5th, if a youngster gets out of line and disrespects you then smack the crap out of him or her! Yes, smack I say! Don't hold back. If he swears and will not remove his Ipod earplugs or she flicks you off and will not put an appropriate top on then raise your hand and bring it down with a mighty strike of discipline! We must care for these young people like they were our own and we would definitely discipline our own kids. On July 5th don't take any sass from anyone who doesn't know the Pythagorean Triple or what Lincoln's first name was. We will be heard and we will be respected! There is strength in numbers and greater strength in the back of your hand. On July 5th we empower ourselves and I take back education. Unite! Mrs. Perry in West Orange. 22Jun2006 ------------------------ Service Me Wasup Miles, please print this letter. I need to clear up a couple of things because some of these women just aren't understanding what I mean when I say I want a woman who knows how to serve her man. They start sucking their teeth and rolling their eyes because they think I'm talking about a subordinate or a maid or a slave. Silly broads. What I'm refering to is a woman who's compassionate towards her man. A relationship is a 2 way street. That means if a lady is going to demand respect, adoration, pampering and all of that other good stuff from her man (or her potential man) then she better be willing to show some humility herself. These foolish broads nowanddays are just selfish and are interested only in what you can do for them. They're not willing to sacrifice anymore for the potential of something greater. It's all take, take, take. I show love early and go out of my way to show that I'm a good servant but rarely is the sentiment returned. And I'm not talking about females who couldn't care less about me, I'm talking about females who I know are interested. They just don't get it. It's cool though, Miles. I don't have to write a novel. Look around at fulfilling relationships and tell me that I'm lying. Some women get it and they're the ones who're usually some lucky guy's wifey. I don't know, either the grandmas aren't talking anymore or these chicks just aren't listening. I appreciate the forum, bro. Malcolm in Orlando. 18Jun2006 ------------------------ Cubeland 2 Hola Miles. Como estas en tu mundo, mi amigo? I've been out of school and working for about 2 years now and partaking in the same ol' activity day after day will definitely null the brain. So for the sake of keeping healthy gray matter, here're some extra-cirriculars that make cubicle life more interesting for me. Get a cup full of ice from the ice machine and just start swallowing pieces whole. The bigger the better. This usually picks me up around 2 or 3pm. Turn your radio onto the smooth jazz station and play it low but just loud enough for your neighbors to hear. It's smooth jazz so no one will mind. Then as the day goes on, slowly and gradually increase the volume. Every 15 minutes just increase it a tad and see if anyone notices or walks over. Last week I got it up to a deafening level and I know that people were finding it difficult to concentrate with Kenny G. blaring but no one said a word about it. Why? Because it was smooth jazz and no one ever tells anyone to turn off smooth jazz. Every so often I'll glue a quarter to the floor right outside of my cubicle doorway and sit back and enjoy the comedy of how hard some people will work to pick up 25 cents. Last Friday I didn't have much else to do so I typed the phrase "I'm Going To KILL You." in huge letters on a page and sent it to the printer and never went to pick it up. Imagine someone walking over to pick up a report that they've printed out only to arrive and see an anonymous death-threat sitting in the pick-up tray. The office was super quiet for the rest of that afternoon because no one dared to venture out of their cube. I just propped my feet up and sailed into the weekend. Sometimes you have to do things to make a dull situation entertaining. Luisa from Cubicle #734. 16Jun2006 ------------------------ Breathing Room Dear Miles, my boyfriend doesn't give me an inch to breathe. He's insecure about himself in many ways and he projects those feelings on to me. Whenever he goes out he calls me constantly to let me know where he is. I tell him that I trust him and that that kind of attention isn't necessary but he never listens and what's worse is that he expects me to call him every 15 minutes when I'm out. He's constantly accusing me of being out other guys when in reality all I do is go to work and come home. I work 2 jobs and honestly don't have time for foolishness like that. What's worse is that after we fight he'll do something reckless like take another female out for dinner or Lord knows what else. It's his way of gettig back at me for making him upset. It all seems so odd because it seems as though he has it all. He's about 6'3, well built, has a great paying job, drives a nice SUV, looks very handsome, has a devoted girl... so one would think that he has it all together. His insecurities just read as a lack of trust and they're starting to wear me down. He doesn't realize that he's pushing me farther and farther away. Miss Sassy in Frustration. 14Jun2006 The Cosmic Balance Miles, I've worked with a very beautiful woman for probably about 3 years now and the whole time I've just watched her personality go from bad to worse. She's definitely one of those CDA females. She treats decent guys like crap and moves like she's doing everyone on earth a favor by simply existing. She's absolutely breathe-taking but her snobbish attitude and blatant nonchalance towards almost any and everything just leaves a sour taste in your mouth. Why is it that the hottest of girls are always so difficult to get along with? I know this girl has never had to get along with anyone simply because she's hot. She never had to develop the simple skills of common courtesey and appreciation because there was always someone around to give her attention. Adversely, it seems like the lesser attractive women are the coolest and easiest to get along with. Why is that? They're more accomidating and bring a much more developed personality to the table. It just doesn't seem fair. What's wrong with the beautiful world? Johnathan in St. Augustine. 14Jun2006 ------------------------ The Chopstick Diet Dear Miles, I'm an athletic trainer in the Orlando area. In my never-ending quest to help people deal with their habits of over-eating I developed The Orlando Chopstick Diet Plan. After much study of the dietary patterns of different East Asian cultures, I discovered that one of our greatest fallicies as eaters here in America lies in the very instruments that we use to feed ourselves. Our eating utensils are designed and built to shovel food into our mouths. So I developed a diet plan that allowed my clients to eat whatever they wanted with the single exception that they eat it only with chopsticks. My theory was that chopsticks greatly hinder the amount of food that an individual can intake. Thus slowing down the meal consumption process and causing the individual to lose weight. My experiment failed miserably. After about a month on the program I started noticing that my clients were gaining weight instead of losing. Americans are adaptive, crafty creatures and my clients were quickly revolutionizing the whole process of eating with chopsticks. Through continuous practice and the desire to eat the same amount they usually eat (if not more) they were finding more efficient ways of holding and grasping at meats, starches and even deserts with their chopsticks. The only positive outcome of my Chopstick Diet plan was that after a while my clients' arms were starting to tone and bulk up from the rapid, continuous movement of the sticks from plate to mouth. I also noticed a spike in hand-to-eye coordination because the chopsticks allowed for more accurate precision when striking at and picking up smaller food particles (rice, peas, corn, etc) off of a plate. I guess it's back to the drawing board. Monroe in Orlando. 10Jun2006 ------------------------ Still The Man Wassup Miles, were u able to catch Greenspan on C-Span yesterday? They had a Q&A session and were basically picking his brain on oil and our economy. Veeeery interesting. I used to believe that if American's cut back that we'd see an end to these ridiculous oil prices but after hearing Greenspan I see now that because oil is a limited resource the days of gas for 1.25 a gallon will never return. Besides, even with all the anger displayed by Americans in the past few years over gas prices, consumption hasn't dropped at all. If anything it's gone up slightly. We consume about a fourth of all oil produced on Earth. We take to the roads like ducks to water. While we probably will never be completely oil independent, we can begin the process of developing alternatives. I'm not going to go as far as a neighbor of mine and start growing corn in my backyard to produce ethanol in my kitchen but I can certainly see the benefits of having backups ready for when the oil cartels start to crumble. Heaven forbid one of our Mid-Eastern suppliers should suddenly decide that they REALLY hate us and cut off our supply. It'd probably send the economy into a tailspin. I'm by no means a speculator but eventually people will reach their no tolerance levels, their actions will finally catch up with their words and we'll all start looking for some type of alternative. Maybe I will plant that garden afterall. Alan Fan in Maitland. 7Jun2006 ------------------------ Partake Ye Sports Dear Miles, my ol' lady is a talk-a-holic and it's wearing on my last nerves. All she ever wants to do is sit around and discuss her feelings. The worst part is that she loves to wait until a game comes on to approach me. She shimey's next to me on the couch and leans on me similar to how the dog does when he wants to be acknowledged. After I ignore her for a little while she gets upset and starts yapping. "How do you feel right now... emotionally?", "Let's share ourselves with each other", "Let's discuss 10 emotions that we felt today". Questions like these during the 4th quarter just make me want to throw my bag of pretzels at her. I used to reply with crap like "Okay honey, give me 10 minutes to reflect on your question" or "why don't we both write down our emotions and we'll share them...in 15 minutes", anything that would make her leave until the game went off. I even tried belching and farting obnoxiously but pretty soon she caught on to me and wasn't leaving anymore. It's gotten to the point now where I just tell her that I'm going to be working late on nights when a big game is on. I bought a small, portable TV that I keep under a blanket in the trunk of my car. When it's game time I usually just drive to an empty warehouse parking lot, plug the TV into my car-lighter, and kuddle up in the back-seat with my sports. Miles, am I even a man anymore? If thou presenteth me with quality sports, will I not watcheth? All I ask is a little peace while I'm watching the game. Miami's in the finals this year so it looks like I'll be rooting them on from the back of the old K-mart parking lot. Rolando in the Ford Taurus of Solitude. 5Jun2006 ------------------------ Checkers Not Chess Dear Miles, first of all let me say that I appreciate ur correspondence. I'm slowly coming to understand that sometimes we make things tough on ourselves in this world. There are some stress factors that we simply cannot avoid (ie; hurricanes, high gas prices, and unexpected illnesses) but most of the things that drive us crazy are things that we can deter. I was definitely going through some drama with petty, vindictive females all over a guy that was really nothing more then an aquaintence. He was cool and he wanted to holla but at the same time it's like he didn't want to let go of all the other women in his life. The whole situation was killing me because I kept stubbornly fighting instead making the obvious (but toughest) decision. Ultimately, the sheisty females weren't the problem, he was. So I cut him off and ever since I've been sleeping alot easier at night. I looked over some other recurring issues that were consuming unnecessary time in my life and after some serious thinking I saw that I had some bad habits and was doing things to bring stress on myself. So now I'm in the process of making some serious and much needed changes all for the betterment of me. In most cases, life is only as hard as we make it. It's checkers not chess. Miss B.L. in Gainesville. 4Jun2006 ------------------------ I Hate U, Miles 4 Miles, I feel like I'm pushing against a wall. It's like ur so close to the type of man that I need but at the same time ur so far off. Why can't u just stop being u and be the man that I want u to be! I've seen elephants that were less stubborn then u. U say u won't budge unless the girl is right enough to pull u so I guess I need to read between the lines. Ur a jerk! I can't take this anymore and it's venting time, mofo. First off, the only reason I never paid for dinner was because u never asked me too. What's the point of u working everyday if we can't go out and spend the money on stuff? U homebody, crib-lovin bum. We go out but I want more. More I say! I deserve the best! And for the record, yes, when I'm married I do plan on eating out EVERY NIGHT. Domestication went out with chivalry, sucka. And f--- ur stupid 90/10 policy. U stole that sh-- from Hitch anyway. If u want me then u know what it takes. Act like u know, chump. I'm severing the ties. I would tell u that I'm either pawning, burning or keeping every expensive thing that u gave me but u never bought me anything. I HATE u! No names required, jerk. 3Jun2006 ------------------------ Memorial Day Massacre Dear Miles, I respect all of our veterans and appriciate all that they've sacrificed for us but I hate this holiday. My husband is having some of his cronies over for a bar-be-que party and even as I'm typing this they're huddled around the grill like bums around a fire. Inevitably, he'll be spurred on by testosterone induced peer pressure and eat himself into a near comatose state. The added consentrations of smoked beef, pork, and chicken in his system will work their way into his joints over night and he'll wake up the next morning unable to freely move his arms and legs. His normally tough-guy voice will be reduced to a whimper and it will be I who will have to wheel-barrow him to the car and take him to the doctor's office. This happens every stinking Memorial Day without fail and I'm sick of it. He always swears to me that this year will not be a repeat of the last but as soon as he puts on his over-sized "Kiss Me, I Grille." apron and lifts that first chicken breast out of the marinade his eyes light up and I immediately know to put the extra bottles of laxative in a reachable location. I hate Memorial Day. Must we celebrate our nation's heros by killing and burning assorted meats? Wouldn't they feel just as honored with a nice salad? Velma in Altomonte Springs. 29May2006 Frontlinemen Dear Miles, I'm just writing to wish everyone a pleasant Memorial Day and to say thank you to all of our beloved soldiers and veterans. It's a lot easier for us to criticize the system when we know that we will not have to shed any blood to defend it. We must keep in mind that there are many that actually have had to pay the price for the liberties we take for granted. God bless our active troops from the homeland to the frontlines. Your nation thanks you. Godspeed Tony C. Grateful American #2034567. 29May2006 A General in the Trenches Dear Miles, I've ascended into the ranks of management on my job and though my position of overseer/task-delegator entitles me to certain comforts and luxuries I am and will always be a worker. I honestly was not built for smoozing and frolicking with the upper crust types. I'm perfectly capable of rubbing elbows with the hob-nobs and white-collared execs (and I do when situations deem necessary) but I was always taught to stay humble and to never disconnect myself from the backbone that is my work force. I was raised with one creed: "Get in there and get the job done by any means necessary". I lead by example and my employees respect me for it. If it's crunch time then I'm the first man in the trenches shoveling dirt. I've had bosses who enjoyed sending down orders from their ivory towers and I could not stand it. If my people are struggling to get a project done then I'm struggling to get it done with them. I'll take celebrating a job-well-done over frosty beers with my crew over smoozing with fake, high-sidity CEO wannabees anyday. The greatest generals have been the ones that have led from experience, and experience is only gained from the frontlines. Sebastian from Miami. 29May2006 ------------------------ A Rapper's First Steps? Miles! I'm browsing the internet checking out the sites of these gangsta-rap wannabes and I've almost fallen out of my chair 3 times with laughter. Is it me or are there literally a million rappers out there? lol. Every site I click on shows some dude standing in his B-boy stance and doing his very best Scarface impression. Ok ok, so I know you have to do certain things and present yourself a certain way in order to market your music and draw in a certain demographic. I can understand and accept that. It's all entertainment. But it's like these guys aren't even using common sense and it's just hilarious. First off, how the heck are we supposed to believe that you're a gangster when the photos on your website are taken from your mom's living room? Putting your hand in your pants to conceal your gun just doesn't ring as menacing when you're standing on your bed and it has baby blue wool sheets on it. Neither will posing with an orange flowered couch and a picture of grandma on the wall in the background. I saw one site that had a guy standing with a cadillac behind him. Seems pretty decent until you notice that the trunk is open and there's a big-booty-skank in there with her rear in the air. lmao. The best one? I guess this one rapper wanted to convince the world that he was in touch with the hood so his gangsta pose is right next to a crappy pay phone on the corner. Miles, he's literally pointing at the phone! And the caption below the pic says "The streetz be calling". After that I immediately shut down my computer and laughed until my kidneys hurt. Then I powered it back up and decided to email you. You NEED to write an article on these guys, I think you would have a ball. Look, I spit verses too and I know you do because I've seen some of your stuff but I think we understand that it's just therapeutic. I know we're nicer then most of these cornballs and we just do it for fun! I just don't understand these boys. They're not men. They're grown but they're not men. And don't let me get started on the females. lol. But generally the men are the guilty culprits. Wow. I cried tears of laughter today, Miles. But at the same time I'm saddened when I realize that these guys are serious. This is how they intend to feed themselves and their kids. No wonder they're all so skinny. What's wrong with a dayum 9 to 5? Remember the days when young men used to work? I guess it's just too easy to rap nowanddays. Peace Miles. Sheryll in Deltona. 27May2006 ------------------------ The Wrong Eyes Dear Miles, I hate to say it but I'm just now starting to realize why some people are popular in this world. I have a webpage and about 3 weeks ago I posted some suggestive photos of myself up (well, they weren't whorish. They're just low cut blouses's and skirts) and I noticed that the number of visitors to my page started increasing. I was getting letters from guys wanting to meet me all of a sudden too. My webpage has been up for over 6 months now and I never saw new responses like that. So I decided to perform an experiment. I took the suggestive pics down and put some pictures of regular ol' me up (they were still nice, just not as enticing). For a week I watched and I saw that the number of visitors to my webpage had fallen back to their old levels. The content of the site was the same. The design was the same. The only difference was the sexy pics. So last week I put them back up and sure enough back came the flys to the honey. I was shocked and deeply disturbed. I now see that my little discovery is no news revelation but it was an eye opener for me. I know some chicks would love the added attention and I say more power to them but I don't want it if that's what I have to do to get it. Faith in Pine Hills. 26May2006 Miles, my girl is about 5'5, 140 pounds and I swear that 75% percent of her body weight is tucked in her butt. No lie, cuz! She's got one of them onion booties that make people just wanna cry when they see it. It's bananas, Word up! Hell, it was the first thing that caught my eye. I just love goin' over to see it! But she was never too proud of it and now she's thinking about getting one of those new booty-reduction surgeries that she heard about on Oprah. She beter not, cuz. I'm wit her true-lay for that that boo-tay and she knows that so as soon as that's gone, I'm gone. Please believe it. Outtie 5000. P.S. Attached is a pic of that lovely onion that I took with my camera phone. Mercy me! Mike Real. 26May2006 ------------------------ Goons, Hired Goons Dear Mr. Miles, I'm a professional goon and I feel as if my livelihood is slowly being taken away from me. With today's internet savy consumer and big corporate's tendency to outsource skilled labor positions, the business of collecting late fees isn't what it used to be. I come from a long lineage of hired goons and was always taught to follow your heart when it comes to your job. But if I can't beat the crap out of people who are delinquent on payments owed then what on earth will I do? I feel helpless and vulnerable. Big Earl from Long Island. 25May2006 ------------------------ Crabs In a Barrel Dear Miles, I just got through reading your article "The Worst Well-Wishers" and I just wanted to say that what you discussed was sad but true. Everyone who smiles at you and wishes you success isn't really in your corner. Recently, I've taken on a new job with a respectable corporation and now I'm finding that my "friends" are refering to me by my company's name instead of my own. Suddenly my life is supposed to be golden and trouble free all because I'm making a little more money. The funniest part is that I don't even bring up work around them. They're always asking me about it... whereas 2 years ago I had a crappy job and it was never discussed. It's obvious that they're waiting for bad news but they'll receive no such satisfaction from me. Have you ever seen crabs in a barrel? That's how my people are sometimes. One crab tries to make it out of the dayum barrel and move on to a better life but the other crabs just reach up and pull him back down. Keep your circle tight, Miles. Most people will only be associates, real friends are a rarity. Camille in Daytona. 21May2006 I Hate U, Miles 3 Ayo Miles, I just read one of your articles where u were talking about fake friends. Now u didn't mention any names directly but I got a feeling that u were talking about me. Were u? I bet u were. Ur a punk u know that? I hate u, homie. 4 real. We aint even cool no more. I hope that one day ur f---ing computer blows up while ur typing. I hope that one day ur truck runs out of gas in the middle of a hot a-- afternoon and ur phone breaks and u don't have any change to call anybody... and that it starts raining. Ur a f---ing duck for calling me out, dude... well, sort of calling me out. If I see u walking on the side of the street I'll veer my car over and try to take out ur left leg. Believe that, partna. And pay me back that 36 cents that u owe me, sucka! Eduardo the Ex-Friend. 21May2006 ------------------------ The Horrors of Sale Dear Miles, today Chick-Fil-A had their annual 76cent Chicken Sandwich Day. I figured that the lunch crowd would be a mess so I decided to wait until I got off from work. Bad decision. I pulled up to the restaurant at about 5:30 and it was sheer madness. I quickly found out the this particular restaurant was qucikly running out of chicken patties so tension was mounting all around. I caught a glance of the inside and all I could see were the scowling faces of people who had been in line for hours. Screaming children clung tightly to their mothers, who stood virtually motionless with arms crossed. There were bodies being pressed against the windows as more and more people tried to file in upon hearing that the precious 76 cent sandwiches were dwindling down. I saw a slender fellow pass out from stress and exhaustion but no one came to aid for fear that they might loose their place in line. Outside of the restaurant the line stretched around the building twice and the afternoon humidity did little to sooth the bubbling tempers. I could see conspirators starting to come together and plot on the fastest way to get their chicken sandwiches. They would boo and hiss at all who emerged from within with a bag that looked to contain more then 2 or 3 sandwiches. An elderly man came out and clutched his bag with every ounce of strength that he had as he passed the lined up onlookers. They eyed the greasy bag tucked under his arm as if it contained the cure for cancer itself. A couple of folks watched him and started whispering amongst themselves. The old man hastened his pace but as he did one of the onlookers pointed and yelled "That old man's got about 10 sandwiches in there!" Patrons were only allowed to buy a maximum of 5 sandwiches. The crowd erupted and 2 younger fellows grabbed the old man and seized his bag. I tried to rush to his aide but was pushed back by the swarming mob. I fell to the ground and all I could see amidst the rush were pieces of lettuce and bread being lobbed in the air. I quickly ran back to my car and peeled out of the parking lot. In my rear view mirror I could see bondfires starting up and men, women, and small children all scrambling for their lives clutching delicious, half-priced chicken sandwiches. The horror, Miles. The horror. Raymond near Semoran. 18May2006 ------------------------ Miles and Inches Dear Miles, first of all let me say that I've been an avid reader of your column for the past couple of months now and I truely love it. I dig your style, your wit, and I love to see how your readers respond to it. I must confess that before I started reading your column I was a big fan of E.K.Inches, another local columnist. His writings touched me on a level that no writer ever had before. I can be quite stingy when it comes to accepting writers of a certain genre but I had come to respect Inches' incite and opinion on the issues that we face everyday. Unfortunately, the quality of his narratives were starting to fall off and so I fell out of love with his material. It was becoming quite clear that he was trading substance for style and a larger fan base. Then one day I picked up one of your articles and it was like a breathe of fresh air. Your work became the substance that I had been lacking. Recently, I heard that Inches had revitalized himself and was making a concious effort to return to the style of narration that he had wandered away from. I thought that I would not be phased by this news (considering how much of a Miles fan I had become) but before I knew it one night I found myself reaching for his latest column. As I read, I was both relieved and disturbed. He had found himself once again. His words signified the return of something that I once loved and lost. They also signified to me that I truely could only follow the literary guidance of one author. I'll always respect your style and what you do but I must be true to myself and return to the author whose words first captured my heart. I pray for your prosperity and success and hope that you keep up the quality of the work that you put out... but I will no longer be reading. I'm sorry. Ashley in Sun City. 15May2006 ------------------------ Salvation from Myself Dear Miles, I'm tired of people complaining about friggin' gas prices but not lifting one red finger to actually do anything about it. I don't care what type of spin OPEC tries to put on it, this whole situation is all about supply and demand. They have a product that is in demand over here so why wouldnt they charge an arm and leg for it? You mean to tell me that if any one of these whiners had a booming business selling Teddy Bears that they wouldn't raise the price of their Teddy's simply because demand was ridiculously high? That's just common business sense. People need to stop pouting about the situation and finally realize that it's the friggin CONSUMER that controls the price of goods, not the supplier. If American's came together and united for once in their miserable lives then maybe we could institute some change. But the sad truth is that that will never happen... ever. As long as we live and breathe we'll continue to be inherantly selfish, drive monstrous gas-guzzelers, and keep right on taking those road trips to the Poconos even when gas reaches 10 bucks a gallon. We complain, we kick, and we cry but when it's all said and done we dry our tears, pick up the friggin' pump and top off. If American's were resolute and demanded that Toyota, Ford and Chevy make cars that were REALLY fuel efficient, don't you think that they would do it. How about if monster SUV sales suddenly dropped due to a boycott? How about if people got over themselves and really starting thinking of ways to bring change? Scratch that, not just thinking of ways... how about if people start REALLY taking action? What do you think would happen? Don't you think 50 million people all with a common goal could stir up some pots? But alas, there's one critical factor that helps massive conglomerates and even local elected politicians sleep at night.. human nature. Miles, it's so much easier to just sit around and complain about stuff then it is to actually take action. The public probably could make some united moves and bring some serious changes to the land buuuut that kind of stuff could interfere with American Idol at 8 or yoga class or Tee time sooooooo well-intentioned initiatives get shelfed. As a whole, we're all lazy bastards, Miles. Que sera sera. I used to think that the government was wrong to regulate such things as corporate monopolies, restaurant policies or elected official activity. I would say to myself "Hey Uncle Sam, you don't need tp decide what's best for your citizens!" Now I see that we need to be protected from ourselves. We will probably never unite against something until we absolutely, positively, posolutely cannot do what we used to do. Then we may contemplate changing our habits. But that kind of change usually doesn't come until after something disasterous happens. I could probably close this out with something inspirational like "Wake up, America" but would it honestly do any good? Naw. So instead... have another beer, fellas. Cheers. John Q Public. 11May2006. ------------------------ Guiltless and Blameless Dear Miles, my secretary recently retired last April so I've been interviewing new applicants for her position. I've narrowed down my search to 2 remaining applicants. Both have exemplary resumes, have great experience and seem very capable of doing the job. The difference between the 2 ladies is that one happens to be very YBV (young, blond and voluptuous) while the other is a middle aged, slightly over-weight, plain-jane. Both applicants have brilliant personalities and qualifications but one is just plain beautiful to look at as well. My job often requires that I spend lots and lots of overtime with my secretary. Guess who got the job? Keep in mind that I'm happily married to a wonderful, georgeous woman. But she is, after all, a woman and women don't like their hubby's hanging around after work with young, single secretaries that are cuter then they are. So while I may never, ever, ever entertain the thought of cheating on her, it will always dwell in the back of her mind. Guiltless would mean that the cute secretary was there with me but we never did anything inappropriate. Blameless would mean that the cute secretary was never there at all. I never even want the possibility of being blamed for anything so the fat applicant got the job. Milton in Winter Park. 9May2006 ------------------------ Domestic Consumption Dear Miles. I’m a pimp and to be quite frank with you these ridiculous gas prices are killing my livelihood. Many a night I’ve found myself reluctant to make my rounds for fear that the returns from some of my more shiftless workers would not amount to the cost of gas it would take to drive over to them. I drive a 1974 Cadillac so fuel efficiency is not exactly a strong suit when it comes to my transportation. I’ve recently considered switching over to a smaller, more economical import automobile but in an industry where style often takes precedence over substance I feel that would greatly hinder my profit margins. I’m also indirectly affected by the rising fuel costs because it hinders potential clients from reaching my workers. I don’t know what to do. I feel like my gold cuff-linked hands are tied. Pimps need to ride, it’s one of the core principles that this industry was fabricated upon. I simply would lose face if I had to resort to calling my workers at their various posts. “Better have my money” does not translate well without visible hand gestures to emphasize the importance of the statement. But if I cannot afford the gas to make rounds, what is to be done? Pimps up. Silky Charlie aka Seymour Dollaz. 30Apr2006 ------------------------ Gone Til November Hey Miles, are u on sabbatical or something? I haven't seen any reader feedback postings recently. What in sam hill is your problem? Do you think that you're the only person who has to work for a living, keep whoever it is that you're "in a relationship" with happy, holla at fam and friends, handle stray business and still keep up with the rest of the little obligations that stem from living in this hemisphere? Well, ur not so suck it up and get back to doing what we know and love, u slacker. The world needs more pointless internet articles about subjects that really don't matter in the long run from people who we'll never meet and truthfully could care less about. Get focused, mayne. Miles Lover in Orlando. 25Apr2006 ------------------------ Big Brother Drives an SUV Dear Miles, I've been serving overseas since 2003. After being in and out of Fallujah for 2 years as a peace enforcer, I've finally been given the opportunity to return home. Sadly, not even a month after I return home I'm hearing that Iran is trying to build up weapons of mass destruction. Has the whole friggin' world gone nuke crazy? Everybody wants to own the biggest stick. Well sir, I say let them take their big sticks and clobber each other with them. I ain't going back over there for nothing! We have our own problems here on the home front to deal with. I can tell you for a fact that the good ol' United States of America will not involve herself in the petty affairs of these backwards, boxed-in nations. Unless of course they're sitting on 600 million barrels of grade A petroleum reserves... then we might have to step in. But good thing Iran isn't... oh cripes, they do have oil, don't they? Ok... I'll go get my gun. Corporal Peppers in Naples. 17Apr2006 ------------------------ I Hate U, Miles 2 Miles, u really piss me off, bucko. You won't come right out and say you're against the war because you know that without our boys leaving huge red spains on those sandy battlefields that you wouldn't enjoy the freedoms you have... like writing those sophomoric articles. America cannot adopt a policy of isolationism because that very mindset is what let us stand idly by while Adolf Hitler started swallowing neighboring nations. We can't afford to have another disater like happen so we have to "watch over" the planet, you dipstick. You are a hypocritical liberalist who probably emails those articles out from the warm safety of your mom's living room. Grow up, you blasted communist! I hate you and everything that you stand for. You are an abomination to the red, white and blue. If I'm ever driving and I see you walking on the side of the road, I promise I will do everything in my power to swerve and hit you. I won't kill you but hopefully I'll injure you bad enough so that you can spend the rest of your life lamenting on how great this nation is. Jack-hole! Star Spangled Steven in Ocoee. 17Apr2006 ------------------------ Starving For Love Dear Miles, I love my girl to death but her cooking goes down about as easy as a kidney stone. I know she tries her best in the kitchen but somethings are just not for everyone. I can never quite find the right words to describe the chicken that tastes like wood, the greens that still smell like fertilizer, or the pot roast that leaves me questioning if I got majority pot or roast. Inevitably, everytime I bite into one of her rocky biscuits and dern near chip a tooth she always looks me square in the eyes and ask sincerly "so how are they?" As the lump crashes to the bottom of my stomach I shake off the pain, fight back the gag reflex and tell her that they're delicious. I hope my compassion isn't dooming me. Hungry Jack in Orlando. 14Apr2006 ------------------------ Can U Hear Me Now Miles, I've been with Cingular for a while now and I've always gotten pretty decent service with them but recently I decided to switch carriers. I definitely don't have any major complaints or quarrels with their service but Verizon simply offered a better deal to me so I made the switch. The weird thing in all of this is that now Verizon is constantly hounding me to stay a member. I haven't had any problems since the switch, I haven't had any calls dropped, I haven't paid a bill late; so I can't figure out why they're so concerned about losing me as a customer. It's like they're afraid Cingular will come in the middle of the night and snatch up my patronage. Is this some kind of weird new customer retention policy? Don't they know that I made the switch for a reason? I signed a contract for heaven's sake. Curtis in Kissimmee. 13Apr2006 ------------------------ Ol' Time Racism Dear Miles, I'm a minority and I'm constantly in disputes with my co-workers on the necessity for affirmative action. All I hear is how the system freezes out qualified white guys in order to hire a minority to fill quota. They see a couple of black executives on the cover of Ebony Magazine and think that minorities are taking over corporate America. They're ridiculous. I can't give you direct figures but I'd bet anything that the majority of the individuals running these huge corporations and conglomerates aren't minorities. The "good ol' boy" mentality is very much alive and well in this great nation and it can be found in offices from Sunset Boulevard to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. It's my personal theory that the majority of this old school racism can not be stamped out no matter how many "Awareness Initiatives" we implement. People can smile and nod all they like but some of these issues are rooted in their psyche and simply will not change. I believe that true racial tolerance will only occur (if ever) after some of these older generations start to die off. Seriously. If you're raised to believe a certain way then the likeliness of you changing is slim to none. But the children and grandchildren of these individuals are slowly but surely starting to become more accepting of different races and maybe they will not instill the unconcious racism in their children to the same extent that it was instilled in them. People are inherantly creatures of habit. You cannot simply undo 200 years of thought in a 30 year time span. Johnathan in West Palm Beach. 8Apr2006 ------------------------ Hustler's Ambition Ayo Miles, what's all this nonsense Im hearing about u being a hustler and what not. U can't be serious, homie. How many hustlers spend all day in the A/C? No son, we out here in these streets holdin' it down. Im up at the crack of dawn making my rounds, playa. First, I move these newspapers out the door, then Im on that number 48 headed downtown to make sure that them burgers stay poppin' fresh off the grille over at Papa C's Burger Joint and then I'm catching a transfer to the westside to set up my Hustla's Hot Dog stand before the club hoppers get out. Plus, in my spare time I'm a crossing guard and part-time security enforcement specialist at the Grub-N-Save. Now thas holdin' it down, son! Even at an early age I was knocking off rival lemonade stands. I can remember pushin' Jolly Ranchers in junior high. I was about mines and most definitely gettin' this money. U stick to writing ur lil articles, homie. Leave that hustler's vernacular to the real hustlers. And for the record, true hustlers dont have time to be responding to editorials. Think about that, chump. Holla. C. Money from Brooklyn. 2Apr2006 ------------------------ Pie Gorging Miles, I recently started seeing a new girl and I fear I may be over doing it. I've spent the night at her place a couple of times and on other occassions it's as though I haven't been able to pull myself away from her. There are times when I know I should probably leave and I know that she'll be there tomorrow but I can't seem to find the strength to do it. Ever had a pie right out of the oven? Is it better to just eat huge pieces of the pie and enjoy it while it's hot or should u take small bites and prolong the experience? If u gorge then it goes fast and u may not have a taste for pie afterwards because u just stuffed urself. On the other hand, if you take small bites then the pie could turn cold on u. Nothing compares to those initial bites and after a long period of nibbling then u could become upset with urself for not enjoying it more while the pie was hot. I guess I just need to relax and enjoy the dayum pie. Baker Brian in Mount Dora. 28Mar2006 ------------------------ Cubeland Dear Miles, long time reader, first time writer. I've been wading through my company's cubicle farm for about a year now so I can definitely testify that college is a gross misrepresentation of what the actual work place will be like. The everyday monotony is tolerable but these blasted cubicle walls are killing me softly. I feel like a chicken nugget crammed into a greasy box that no one will ever order... I just sit on the hot shelf. Sometimes, just for kicks, I'll do stuff to shake things up over here in cubeland. I've got some audio records of people screaming from the Disney Haunted Mansion that I play on my PC. I turn them on and loop them at a low sound until a co-worker begins to worry that someone is in distress somewhere close. Sometimes I'll lob tiny pieces of string over the cube wall and listen for the inevitable jump or shreik of someone thinking that a soft spider has just landed on them. One of my favorite past times is continuously re-heating popcorn bags. The human brain can only tolerate the smell of popcorn for a little while because it expects the smell to disappear but I never eat any, I just keep re-heating it. I don't even like popcorn, I just love to see the mayhem that ensues when small things start breaking up everyday routines. Working full time is a beast and I do whatever it takes to make it through my day. I try to warn every college student I see... Enjoy it while it lasts because when it's gone, its gone! Peace. Jaime P from Cubicle #578. 27Mar2006 ------------------------ She Hate Me Miles, my girlfriend is driving me to drink. All we do is fight, make up, and then fight again. She called me yesterday morning because someone told her that they saw someone who looks like me walking along the side of the road holding hands with a girl... at night. So Im laying in bed watching Lions of the Serengeti on Discovery channel while she's going ballistic. I was really getting into the lions when she screams she never wants to talk to me again and hangs up. Two minutes later a stream of text messages starts coming in that say quite colorfully that she hates me. I spent the next 45 minutes laying there with the television remote in one hand and the phone in the other, juggling my attention between the intriguing everyday plight of the lion and texting out responses of "O really?" and "Is that how u feel?" Am I even in a relationship? Chris in Clermont. 22Mar2006 ------------------------ Twilight to Midnight Dear Miles, I just wanted to respond to one of your reader postings from a while back. The reader was absolutely right when she said that real love asks for nothing. It's not about fancy outings or trips. If you click with someone then you're comfortable with that person even if all you're doing is sitting on a bench outside at twilight. Love can begin with something like this and turn it into the most memorable night ever. Just beyond the nighttime clouds are lots of stars. You just have to be patient enough for them to come out, even if you're out past midnight. Ashley in Sun City. 21Mar2006 ------------------------ Tourney Time Dear Miles, my husband is obsessed with March Madness and Im seriously considering filing for divorce. Every year he takes off 2 weeks in March so that he can be home to watch those blasted games. We can't even go on anywhere in the summer because he's spent all of his vacation time. We have 4 TVs in the house and he turns each one to a different game. Instead of just flipping channels he runs from room to room to be "in the essence" of each game. It's really the only time he gets any exercise all year. Last year, I left him alone with the kids for a weekend and when I got back he had somehow managed to gamble away $2000, his lawnmower, all of my linens and towels, and the deed to his parents' house. He's moved the car out of the garage to store up enough beer and Funions to feed a small nation and with the tournament heating up, Im afraid he's going to call over his fat, smelly, loud friends to watch with him. His boss has threatened to fire him and I think he's been neglecting to pay the water and credit card bills. I don't know what to do. He didn't even go to college... where's all this coming from? Belinda in Winter Garden. 16Mar2006 ------------------------ Miles, why is it that we can never have what we want? I'm an attractive female who can't get the man of my dreams to give me the time of day. He talks to me as if Im just a friend instead of the woman who he should spend the rest of his life with. He's respectful and gives me the courtesey that he would any female but I want much, much more. He should be talking to me and only me all day everyday. What's his problem? Meanwhile, the guys that I could care less about wont seem to stop calling me. Is it me? Is it my hair? I'm the PERFECT woman... why doesn't he whorship me? U think he could be gay? My girlfriends tell me that not everyone is meant to be together but I think they're gay too. Do you think I should call him and curse him out? Tiffany in Orlando. 15Mar2006 ------------------------ Bike Week Mr Miles, you have just lost yourself a loyal supporter. I support Bike Week just as sure as I raise my confederate flag every morning. The fact that 7 people have died out here is irrelevant. We're drinking and riding with a purpose, buster. Besides, we'd rather have 30 bikers die everyday then to have to host that dern BCR every spring break. Those kids are walking around with their hipity-hop music blaring and their under-thongs showin' and their spinny rims spinning... they have no respect for our fair city whatsoever. The leather-clad mistresses and the tattooed, beer guzzling, Hog-riders that come down during Bike Week are a boost to the morale of our area, BCR just makes me want to stay in my home with the doors locked. Cooter in Daytona Beach. 9Mar2006 ------------------------ The Users Miles, u were only scratching the surface in ur article, man. Everybody's using everybody. Guys are using females, females are using us. It's all one big, vicious circle. I used to know this chick who only called to do stuff with me when she was in town. When she was away, I never heard from her but when she got in town and was bored or wanted to see a show or get a free meal, guess who got called? Bingo. Even the so called "good girls" will use u. They're just not as open about it. These b------ aint about nothing but the come up. They only smile in ur face when they see something they want. So I say, use em' right back! Females need that security and emotional back up, we're wired to get that physical love. Everybody's tryna get something, man! At least some of these chicks understand that! I have yet to meet a female who wasn't a user by nature. Let's be real about things. J.T. in Tangelo. 4Mar2006 Dear Miles, please don't let a couple of bad apples ruin the whole bunch. While there are some people out there who are only concerned with their own well-being, don't forget that are many others out there who genuine and sincere. I'm a full time student and I've been with my man for over 3 years. I love him, am faithful to him, and expect absolutely nothing from him in return. I do the little things he likes because I want to, not because of what he can do for me. Please remember that there are lots of good women out there, u just have to look past the users to see them sometimes. Keep your head up. Shayla at U.C.F. 4Mar2006 ------------------------ No Bush-it Dear Miles, I recently finished reading your article in this week's paper and I was flabbergasted to say the least. Your commentary was biased, dangerous, and unpatriotic. Please excuse my saying so, but you are a douche. You, sir, have no right to condemn President Bush's plan to liberate the third world nation of Iraq and to bring their much needed oil back to the United States. We are an ever growing nation that relies on petroleum to spin the gears of our infrastructure. Iraq under the rule of Saddam Hussein was hesitant at best to provide us with the oil that we needed to power our Hummers, super SUVs, and recreational yatchs. And if they weren't willing to share a resource that really belongs to everyone on God's green earth then President Bush was left with no other option then to go in there and take it. Your likening President Bush's quest for oil independence to O.J. searching for the real killer was completely uncalled for. If you didn't like the state of the union then you should have convinced 200,000 more of your MTV watching, afirmative action-loving, progressive thinking peers to take their butts to the voting polls. Everyone has an opinion but if you didn't even take the time to cast a ballot then shut your mouths. I whole heartedly support my elected leaders, I support my troops and most importantly I support America! Hail, Bush. Sincerly, Grace in Wildwood. 26Feb2006 The comments and opinions presented are not those of Ghostlife Media nor its staff 2007 - All Rights Reversed