In other news, the earth is round and the sun will rise tomorrow...
Clay is gay: Aiken comes out of the closet
By NEKESA MUMBI MOODY
AP Music Writer
NEW YORK (AP) - Clay Aiken is finally confirming what many people already knew: He's gay. The cover of the latest People magazine shows Aiken holding his infant son, Parker Foster Aiken, with the headline: "Yes, I'm Gay." The cover also has the quote: "I cannot raise a child to lie or hide things."
The magazine has an interview with Aiken and confirmed that he was on the cover but refused to release the article to The Associated Press until Wednesday.
The baby's mother is Aiken's friend and record producer Jaymes Foster.
Aiken, who gained fame as the runner-up on "American Idol" in 2003, rarely addressed the frequent rumors about his sexuality. In an interview with The Associated Press two years ago, he said: "I don't really feel like I have anybody to answer to but myself and God and the people I love."
The multiplatinum singer recently released the CD "On My Way Here" and made his Broadway debut this spring in "Monty Python's Spamalot."
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
You All Bring Beer?
Something tells me this guy would have made an excellent adult kickballer...
Ex-Marine last holdout in barrier island town
By ALLEN G. BREED
SURFSIDE BEACH, Texas (AP) — Ray Wilkinson sat with his feet propped on the railing of his front porch Saturday, calmly dragging on a Marlboro Light as reporters asked whether he considered himself brave for being the only person to ride out Hurricane Ike on this spit of sand.
"I consider myself to be stupid," Wilkinson, 67, spat through a thick, tobacco-stained beard. "I'm just tired of running from these things. If it's going to get you, it's going to get you. ...
"I didn't say I had all my marbles, OK."
The retired carpenter and former Marine insists he's never stayed for a hurricane that was coming at him. He says he fully intended to leave when police issued a mandatory evacuation. But the friend who was supposed to give him a ride went for a last-minute run to the store and couldn't get back.
Mayor Larry Davison said city officials were told Wilkinson had left. But as they retreated from the flooded streets Friday, they saw him waving from the porch of the teal-colored stilt duplex he rents.
When Davison came back Saturday, he was shocked and relieved to see Wilkinson waving from the same spot, a tattered American flag flapping from the wall beside him.
"He kind of drank his way through the night," Davison said.
Wilkinson — dressed only in shorts, tennis shoes and a ball cap — said he sat on the porch the entire time as the house swayed as much as 10 inches. He watched debris float by — cars, stairs and refrigerators, "my own being one of 'em, damn it."
"You all bring beer?" he asked reporters.
Wilkinson said he came to Surfside Beach 30 years ago after a colon cancer diagnosis.
"I was supposed to be done with 10, 12 years ago — longer than that, actually," he said. "I pretty well can guess this is where I'm going to go. That's what I came down here for."
Just as with the cancer, he figures it wasn't his time to go.
Ex-Marine last holdout in barrier island townBy ALLEN G. BREED
SURFSIDE BEACH, Texas (AP) — Ray Wilkinson sat with his feet propped on the railing of his front porch Saturday, calmly dragging on a Marlboro Light as reporters asked whether he considered himself brave for being the only person to ride out Hurricane Ike on this spit of sand.
"I consider myself to be stupid," Wilkinson, 67, spat through a thick, tobacco-stained beard. "I'm just tired of running from these things. If it's going to get you, it's going to get you. ...
"I didn't say I had all my marbles, OK."
The retired carpenter and former Marine insists he's never stayed for a hurricane that was coming at him. He says he fully intended to leave when police issued a mandatory evacuation. But the friend who was supposed to give him a ride went for a last-minute run to the store and couldn't get back.
Mayor Larry Davison said city officials were told Wilkinson had left. But as they retreated from the flooded streets Friday, they saw him waving from the porch of the teal-colored stilt duplex he rents.
When Davison came back Saturday, he was shocked and relieved to see Wilkinson waving from the same spot, a tattered American flag flapping from the wall beside him.
"He kind of drank his way through the night," Davison said.
Wilkinson — dressed only in shorts, tennis shoes and a ball cap — said he sat on the porch the entire time as the house swayed as much as 10 inches. He watched debris float by — cars, stairs and refrigerators, "my own being one of 'em, damn it."
"You all bring beer?" he asked reporters.
Wilkinson said he came to Surfside Beach 30 years ago after a colon cancer diagnosis.
"I was supposed to be done with 10, 12 years ago — longer than that, actually," he said. "I pretty well can guess this is where I'm going to go. That's what I came down here for."
Just as with the cancer, he figures it wasn't his time to go.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Keeper of the Dogs
I've mentioned before how stray dogs seem to find me. Or me them. I'm never entirely sure. I'm a little obsessed with it quite frankly. I was just lecturing one of my softball teammates last night about the importance of attaching her dog's leash to either a choke chain or another collar so that should the dog wrest free of the collar attached to the leash, the poor shlub who finds her dog (me) will still have some identification to check. Nothing is more frustrating than finding a stray dog with no identification. She argued that the dog has a chip, but I explained that I don't have a chip reader. I'm sure I sounded a little crazy to her.
So what do I come upon on my way home from work today? A stray dog. He was on a pretty busy tree-lined street in a nice section of Norfolk. I drove past him and looked to see if his human was nearby and saw no one. And then began a quick debate with myself: "I'm sure he'll be fine. But what if he gets hit? I have to go pick up Bodhi [my dog] from daycare. What if it was Bodhi??" The outcome of this debate is always the same: I drove around the block and went back for the dog. By the time I got back around, he had crossed two lanes of traffic and was just chillin' on the median. There was no place to pull over, so I had to stop in the middle of one of the lanes and turn on my hazard lights. I wasn't sure if he was friendly, if he'd bolt, or bite. But I knew he was OLD. He had two frosted eyes and was moving pretty slow. I approached him and he seemed friendly enough and he was wearing tags. Bonus! Turns out he lived on this very street. I managed to get him up into the car and drove us out of traffic. I tried calling the number on his tag (the first number was almost completely obliterated -- this stray dog business is never easy) but got his owner's voice mail. Or the voice mail of a woman whose phone number was similar to Woodie's owner's. That was his name, by the way.
I'm embarrassed to say how long it took me to realize I had picked him up pretty much right in front of his house. I walked down one block looking for the house number and then decided it was too far and drove down the alley behind the homes. Not all of them had numbers on the back, so I had to go back out along the front of the houses. It was then I found myself right where we started! I returned to the back of his house and was happy to see a car in the driveway. I checked out the house and discovered one dog and zero humans inside. So as usual, I was stuck. I wasn't quite sure what to do with him. Convinced that -- even though the inside dog was barking his head off the whole time and surely would have awakened anyone present -- the owner just hadn't heard me, I walked around front and tried the doorbell. It was then I saw the paper on the front porch and thought, "Lord, I hope they're not dead in there." I still couldn't figure out how Woodie had gotten outside.
When I was walking back to my car, I spotted Woodie's neighbor across the alley. He looked relatively harmless (and it was getting late!) so I asked if he knew Woodie and his owner. He said yes, and that she was away and had some friends watching the dogs. The friends had just left. And this is why I don't leave Bodhi with friends! Woodie's sitters hadn't done such a good job. I explained where I had found him and asked if he would mind watching Woodie until the friends returned. He said he and Woodie (who I discovered was a female) were old friends and he'd be glad to watch her. He was also going to call Woodie's mom and let her know what was going on. So hopefully everything worked out for Woodie. She was very sweet and I'm so glad I went back to get her. I would have been devastated if she had gotten lost or hurt.
Miss Bodhi was none-too-pleased however when I picked her up from daycare and she sniffed the back seat of the car. I tried explaining that it was a one time thing and Woodie meant nothing to me, but I don't think she bought it. She hasn't really talked to me since. I'd do it again though. It feels great to rescue a dog who actually needs rescuing! (Sometimes the Dogs Aren't Lost)
So what do I come upon on my way home from work today? A stray dog. He was on a pretty busy tree-lined street in a nice section of Norfolk. I drove past him and looked to see if his human was nearby and saw no one. And then began a quick debate with myself: "I'm sure he'll be fine. But what if he gets hit? I have to go pick up Bodhi [my dog] from daycare. What if it was Bodhi??" The outcome of this debate is always the same: I drove around the block and went back for the dog. By the time I got back around, he had crossed two lanes of traffic and was just chillin' on the median. There was no place to pull over, so I had to stop in the middle of one of the lanes and turn on my hazard lights. I wasn't sure if he was friendly, if he'd bolt, or bite. But I knew he was OLD. He had two frosted eyes and was moving pretty slow. I approached him and he seemed friendly enough and he was wearing tags. Bonus! Turns out he lived on this very street. I managed to get him up into the car and drove us out of traffic. I tried calling the number on his tag (the first number was almost completely obliterated -- this stray dog business is never easy) but got his owner's voice mail. Or the voice mail of a woman whose phone number was similar to Woodie's owner's. That was his name, by the way.
I'm embarrassed to say how long it took me to realize I had picked him up pretty much right in front of his house. I walked down one block looking for the house number and then decided it was too far and drove down the alley behind the homes. Not all of them had numbers on the back, so I had to go back out along the front of the houses. It was then I found myself right where we started! I returned to the back of his house and was happy to see a car in the driveway. I checked out the house and discovered one dog and zero humans inside. So as usual, I was stuck. I wasn't quite sure what to do with him. Convinced that -- even though the inside dog was barking his head off the whole time and surely would have awakened anyone present -- the owner just hadn't heard me, I walked around front and tried the doorbell. It was then I saw the paper on the front porch and thought, "Lord, I hope they're not dead in there." I still couldn't figure out how Woodie had gotten outside.
When I was walking back to my car, I spotted Woodie's neighbor across the alley. He looked relatively harmless (and it was getting late!) so I asked if he knew Woodie and his owner. He said yes, and that she was away and had some friends watching the dogs. The friends had just left. And this is why I don't leave Bodhi with friends! Woodie's sitters hadn't done such a good job. I explained where I had found him and asked if he would mind watching Woodie until the friends returned. He said he and Woodie (who I discovered was a female) were old friends and he'd be glad to watch her. He was also going to call Woodie's mom and let her know what was going on. So hopefully everything worked out for Woodie. She was very sweet and I'm so glad I went back to get her. I would have been devastated if she had gotten lost or hurt.
Miss Bodhi was none-too-pleased however when I picked her up from daycare and she sniffed the back seat of the car. I tried explaining that it was a one time thing and Woodie meant nothing to me, but I don't think she bought it. She hasn't really talked to me since. I'd do it again though. It feels great to rescue a dog who actually needs rescuing! (Sometimes the Dogs Aren't Lost)
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
New Feature!
Yes folks, we have a new feature here at Cranial Vault -- a guest editorial! I personally am all atingle, especially since I haven't had anything to write about lately. This is actually a bold-faced lie (I really need to look that expression up one of these days) -- I have PLENTY to write about but nothing I'm ready to share with my ever-expanding public (or with my mommy) just yet (if ever)... So, to save the day, here's my dear and hugely-talented friend, Colleen Finn:
"Hey, I had a really bad feeling today as I was reading some of the posts from moms about this VP pick. Feel free to post this on your blog because I need to get recognition if it goes down like I think it will:
Prediction: In 2-3 weeks, Palin is going to back out from the VP nomination. She will cite family values and introspection which will lead her to make the decision to stay in Alaska and be there for her newborn son and as support for her pregnant daughter. She will make it very clear that McCain did nothing but encourage her to stay on, but supports her choice.
Everyone will 'Ooh' and 'Ahh' her decision, calling her a strong woman who made the right decision. Even surrounded by her current scandals, she will be praised. This will be followed by a boost in McCain support. "Way to go for choosing a woman, for sticking to party lines, for being open minded, blah, blah, blah" Then McCain will choose, as a running mate, whomever he had in mind from the beginning. Probably a choice that may not have been favorable weeks ago, but will now be heralded as a great decision after the Palin selection. The only thing I'm unsure about is who the real VP choice will be.
Either way, this current VP choice is a head scratcher in so many ways: out of the blue, inexperience, family issues, children issues, and the list goes on. Steve Schmidt is not an idiot and may just be an evil genius. I have a feeling that this entire thing was orchestrated for a bigger plan. Sure I sound like a conspiracy theorist...but let's just see how the next few months play out.
Do I get some kind of prize if I'm right?"
I think she's got a point here and makes a compelling argument. Should we work on some sort of prize? Maybe a free "McCain/Palin 2008" t-shirt? We may be able to get them cheap in the coming weeks...
I look forward to Steve Schmidt's mother's response. :)
I'm lying.
"Hey, I had a really bad feeling today as I was reading some of the posts from moms about this VP pick. Feel free to post this on your blog because I need to get recognition if it goes down like I think it will:
Prediction: In 2-3 weeks, Palin is going to back out from the VP nomination. She will cite family values and introspection which will lead her to make the decision to stay in Alaska and be there for her newborn son and as support for her pregnant daughter. She will make it very clear that McCain did nothing but encourage her to stay on, but supports her choice.
Everyone will 'Ooh' and 'Ahh' her decision, calling her a strong woman who made the right decision. Even surrounded by her current scandals, she will be praised. This will be followed by a boost in McCain support. "Way to go for choosing a woman, for sticking to party lines, for being open minded, blah, blah, blah" Then McCain will choose, as a running mate, whomever he had in mind from the beginning. Probably a choice that may not have been favorable weeks ago, but will now be heralded as a great decision after the Palin selection. The only thing I'm unsure about is who the real VP choice will be.
Either way, this current VP choice is a head scratcher in so many ways: out of the blue, inexperience, family issues, children issues, and the list goes on. Steve Schmidt is not an idiot and may just be an evil genius. I have a feeling that this entire thing was orchestrated for a bigger plan. Sure I sound like a conspiracy theorist...but let's just see how the next few months play out.
Do I get some kind of prize if I'm right?"
I think she's got a point here and makes a compelling argument. Should we work on some sort of prize? Maybe a free "McCain/Palin 2008" t-shirt? We may be able to get them cheap in the coming weeks...
I look forward to Steve Schmidt's mother's response. :)
I'm lying.
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