2001 Off Season: January 2001 Archives

This day has been a long time in coming. For me, I was eagerly awaiting its arrival. For Trina, it was a day to dread. This is a red letter day and a highlight to the year so far. I am of course talking about the day that Season Ticket final payments are due. Sure, it means I have to shell out my hard earned cash to the Arizona Diamondbacks to pay for the upcoming season. But that is just looking at the pessimistic side of things. I like to think of myself as an optimist so today marks the day that Section 133 Row 12 Seats 14-15 are completely mine. Before, they were only half mine since I had only paid half of the cost of my tickets. Now though, they are all mine. I can hardly wait for that first Spring Training game at Bank One Ballpark on March 30. It is at that time that I will be able to finally "move in". It is just like getting a new house, I have so many plans on how I want to decorate and landscape my new place. I was thinking of putting in grass and maybe even a swimming pool. And of course I want something where I can look up at the stars during the cooler spring and fall temperatures but I also want something that can protect me from the stifling heat of an Arizona summer. What would be great is if my new place had a retractable roof, that would be cool!

"Honey, remember when you said you really wanted to go on vacation and how romantic it would be if we traveled to some exotic foreign country? I was thinking, we should really do that, like maybe this week. How would you feel about going to Culiacán, Mexico? I hear it is really beautiful this time of year."

I consider myself to be a religious man. Each spring I thank God that Spring Training has finally arrived after a long off-season where I have had to put up with football and basketball. For opening day each year I sacrifice a virgin scorebook as I keep score for each home game. By the all-star break each July I am cursing the umpires knowing full well that many of them are probably indeed direct descendants to Satan himself. By fall I am calling once again upon the Lord to direct the Diamondbacks into one last play-off run. As the season ends, I take the opportunity to thank God for the bountiful season we have just received. That in a nutshell could describe pretty much every baseball fans religious experiences. I do not profess to be a bible scholar by any means. I somehow get lost somewhere in the book of Exodus around the time that people begin begetting. I have a hard enough time trying to remember my own kids names without trying to figure out who all these other people's kids are. I have though come to a profound understanding of many of the principles of the bible. For example, when they talk about the falling of the church after the death of the 12 apostles. I fully understand that concept. The same thing happens in baseball. Once the designated hitter was introduced into the game, the pureness, the truth of the game has disappeared. The baseball prophets have ceased to do miracles. Baseball fans like those who proclaim themselves as born again Christians are both waiting for the same thing, the second coming of Christ. We just may be waiting for this event for different reasons. Oh sure, I think it would be great to hear the teachings of Christ, but more importantly, I think he is probably the only one who has enough power to have Major League Baseball eliminate the designated hitter rule and have all 30 teams play on real grass fields.

It is interesting to note the differences between baseball and football. These differences are magnified once you reach the post-season. In baseball, there are just 4 play-off positions in each league and a team must show they can maintain an advantage over an opponent in a series of 5 or 7 games. In football, it seems as if there are hundreds of teams that make the play-offs and the post-season seems to go on forever. In baseball, the culmination of the league championships is the World Series otherwise known as the fall classic. Here two teams do battle on a home and home basis so that the hometown fans can see their teams in action and celebrate their successes as they happen. In football, the end game is the Super Bowl played at a neutral location. It is very difficult for me to get enthused about a game named after something I would put cereal in each morning. Next, I have no feelings for either of these teams nor do really any of the people in the stands at Tampa Bay since neither of these teams are from this area. In fact, neither of these teams even played in Tampa Bay this season outside of this game. That coupled with the fact that neither of these teams were even in the play-offs last season make me fairly apathetic towards this game. To top it off, neither of these teams have much of an offense so I was fully expecting this game to be 2-0 in overtime with the winning team being crowned when the opposition's punter missed the ball and it went out of the back of the end zone. About the only thing going for this game was the commercials being played during the game. Needless to say, I was not disappointed, some of those commercials were pretty funny. Oh, they football game? I slept through most of it. The best thing about it was that I was at least dreaming of baseball season.

I am not usually one to care what people think nor do I ever pay attention to whether they accept me or not. I have tried to instill this sense of character independence in my children as well. But there are times when it becomes necessary to ask for acceptance. Today happened to be such a case for Ashley. She is now a senior in high school with dreams of going to college. She has been a successful high school student having good grades throughout school. She has many extra- curricular accomplishments to her name and her college entrance test scores are very good as well. Her problem is that she only wants to attend one college, that being BYU. I cannot blame her for that, after all that is where I graduated some 20 years ago. Her heart is set on going to the "Y" and if she does not get in, she will be heart broken. BYU is quite hard to gain entrance to and I have tried to tell her that even though she is a good student, there is a possibility that she will not be able to get into the school. She seems to understand that but she still will only consider Brigham Young. For the past several weeks, she has been working on her application and all the documents that go with it. She has written essays, had interviews, made phone calls, and done everything in her power to try to get into this college. Today, was the culmination of her efforts. I went to the mail box today and there found a letter from the BYU Admissions office. I took it into the house and found Ashley to give her the mail. She looked at the envelope and her hands were shaking in anticipation. I could tell she was nervous and a little frightened to open it. Finally, she tore it open and begin reading. After the first paragraph, she began to scream and tears appeared in her eyes "I've been accepted!" It was a wonderful moment for her as her dreams and hard work met in one moment as her goal was accomplished. Then it hit me, "Oh great, she got accepted!" I could almost immediately feel my wallet become lighter.

For Christmas, my kids bought me a desk calendar to sit on my desk at work. I thought they game me this so that I could keep track of when the Arizona Diamondbacks had a game or how many more days until Opening Day. Instead, none of these dates are highlighted in my calendar. Instead, it is a calendar filled with Origami. I had never fashioned myself as someone interested in the Japanese art of paper folding but since the calendar came with instructions I decided I would play along. Each day of the year I am given instructions on how to fold the previous day's calendar entry into some form of animal or object. It didn't take long before I was way out of my league. It seems that each day builds upon the previous day and before long, these paper folding exercises became very complex and time consuming. Besides which, the instructions given each day read something like a Japanese stereo manual. What started out one day to be a crown soon ended up looking like an in-bred sheep. My first reaction was, "Oh, this is a right-handed calendar." That is the standard answer ever left-handed person gives when they encounter something confusing or motor-skill taxing. My kids assured me that the calendar was indeed ambidextrous and that I should be able to fold paper with either hand. Now I did not want the calendar to get the best of me so I continued to attempt each day's entry. Soon though I began to feel discomfort in my wrist. After a couple of weeks, it hurt to fold paper. I was starting to be concerned and decided to do a little research on what might be happening. After visiting a few web sites, I came to the conclusion that I am beginning to develop Carpal Origami. I think maybe I better just leave the calendar alone for a while. I guess it will be January 26, 2001 for a while.

I remember when I first became a father, I had no idea what I was doing. I felt very inadequate and very nervous. I could barely take care of myself let alone try and care for a defenseless infant. With every major purchase I had ever made, the item came with an instruction manual. This baby did not. How was I supposed to learn how to be a father without severely warping the child I was raising? These were all interesting questions none of which did I have the answer to. Like other men though, I struggled through it and learned from my mistakes. Some of these lessons were easier to digest than others. I am still not comfortable with the idea of a teen-age boy dating my daughter and I definitely do not want to see them kissing. I fully understand that is part of the dating ritual, just don't do it in front of me. Through the years though, I have learned a few things that I will now pass on to others about fatherhood.

It's funny how confused a guy can get when he doesn't have baseball to keep his mind alert. It seems like New Year's Day was just 24 days ago and yet here we are celebrating another new year. I have always been a little confused by the notion that the Chinese have a different calendar than we do. I am further confused that their New Year doesn't seem to ever fall on the same day. It is like there is a Chinese random number generator that determines how long a year is and when it begins and ends. This year, New Years falls on January 24. It welcomes in the year of the snake. The year of the snake? Oh, this has good news written all over it. What better year for the Arizona Diamondbacks to go to the World Series and win it all than the year of the snake. I can see it now. There will be massive amounts of Chinese fireworks followed by a large snake float before we all meet at Bank One Ballpark for roast duck and fortune cookies. This is going to be an awesome year! With this new felt confidence, I called down to the Arizona Diamondbacks ticket office to ask about 2001 playoff and World Series ticket availability. The customer relations representative seemed very confused and tried to explain that they were still working through season ticket requests. There would be no playoff tickets sold until mid-September should the Diamondbacks be in contention. Be in contention? What kind of defeatist attitude is that? Of course they will be in contention. After all, how can 6 billion people possibly be wrong? I may not believe in the Chinese calendar but I sure won't disagree when it claims this is the year for the Arizona Diamondbacks!

The fourth week of January can mean only one thing if you live in Phoenix. It is time for the Phoenix Open golf tournament. Although I play golf, I am not a fanatic and I rarely if ever will watch a tournament on television or in person. But I have gone to the Phoenix Open several times since I have moved to the area. It is always an interesting experience. I remember the first time I went, I was actually kicked out. Never having been to see golf live before, I was unaware of the rules associated with the spectators. How was I supposed to know that you were not allowed to heckle the players? The Phoenix Open is different from many of the other golf tournaments that are played. It is probably 60 percent party and 40 percent golf tournament. The beer and cigars flow freely, especially around the sixteenth green. Going to the Open, you never quite know what you are going to see.

With the opening day of baseball still 70 days 22 hours 33 minutes and 15 seconds away, I needed something to keep myself occupied for another couple of months. So a bunch of us at work decided we would start a XFL Fantasy League. After all, this would work perfectly. The XFL season begins on February 3 and it ends on April 7. That almost exactly fills the timeframe between now and opening day. Well, it is actually a week to long since Opening Day is April 3 but I figure all the other owners in our league will understand if I just ignore the last week of the XFL season. Since I am not much of a football fan, I thought I would be at a disadvantage with the other owners in our league. I quickly determined that I was wrong since there is no information available on the XFL or their players. When I opened up my draft card, I found that all the players are listed as rookies and even worse, the athlete rankings are strictly alphabetic. If I left my draft card as it was, I would probably have the only team made up completely of people with the last name that started with an "A". But then again, from looking at the names before me, I couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad. Obviously, I could not just leave the draft order at it's default settings so I went through the list and I ranked the players whose names I knew. When I finished, I found that they were still in alphabetical order. Finally, I came up with the ultimate draft order and set my line-up accordingly. I am now going to draft only players whose names sound like cartoon characters. I can see now, I am going to clean up in this league!

The next two weeks are the darkest of the winter for baseball fans. Most if not all of the big free agents have been signed and no one is making any deals of any magnitude. Teams and players have exchanged figures for arbitration and are in the midst of negotiations. Spring training does not begin for another four weeks so there is pretty much nothing going on with regards to baseball. Unless of course you live in Venezuela. If I were in Venezuela, I would be seeing the final weeks of their season leading up to the play-offs and the Caribbean world series. I would be basking in the sun watching baseball and eating burritos. It is times like these when I wonder whether living in the United States is all that it is cracked up to be. Curious, I decided to go out to the Internet and see what the cost of living would be if I decided to move to Venezuela. The first thing I noticed was that there are very few web sites devoted to people wanting to relocate to Venezuela from the United States. The next thing was that most of the sites I did find were in Spanish. Although I don't speak Spanish fluently, I do know enough to get by. For example, I know enough to ask where the bathroom is located. I can ask if the house is red and most importantly, I can say "This is the story of the three bears." What I found though was that none of these sites used any of these words. I quickly decided that if I moved to Venezuela that one of two things would happen. I would either starve to death because I would know how to communicate with the natives or I would cause some sort of international incident by saying or doing the wrong thing. I guess I will just have to search the Sporting News for winter ball scores and highlights. It would be safer for me as well as our country if I didn't travel abroad.

The next two weeks are the darkest of the winter for baseball fans. Most if not all of the big free agents have been signed and no one is making any deals of any magnitude. Teams and players have exchanged figures for arbitration and are in the midst of negotiations. Spring training does not begin for another four weeks so there is pretty much nothing going on with regards to baseball. Unless of course you live in Venezuela. If I were in Venezuela, I would be seeing the final weeks of their season leading up to the play-offs and the Caribbean world series. I would be basking in the sun watching baseball and eating burritos. It is times like these when I wonder whether living in the United States is all that it is cracked up to be. Curious, I decided to go out to the Internet and see what the cost of living would be if I decided to move to Venezuela. The first thing I noticed was that there are very few web sites devoted to people wanting to relocate to Venezuela from the United States. The next thing was that most of the sites I did find were in Spanish. Although I don't speak Spanish fluently, I do know enough to get by. For example, I know enough to ask where the bathroom is located. I can ask if the house is red and most importantly, I can say "This is the story of the three bears." What I found though was that none of these sites used any of these words. I quickly decided that if I moved to Venezuela that one of two things would happen. I would either starve to death because I would know how to communicate with the natives or I would cause some sort of international incident by saying or doing the wrong thing. I guess I will just have to search the Sporting News for winter ball scores and highlights. It would be safer for me as well as our country if I didn't travel abroad.

After a long and drawn out election process, George W. Bush was finally inaugurated as the forty-third president of the United States. With this inauguration, the country experienced something that had never happened in the history of this country. No I am not talking about a president that was elected electoral but did not win the popular vote. I am not even talking about the father/son combination elected to the presidency. Instead, I am talking about this being the first time in history where a former Major League Baseball owner has sat in the White House.

Today was the final day of the Clinton administration. Tomorrow George W. Bush will take office. As has been the case with every president since the beginning of this country, President Clinton took his last day in office to issue pardons to several individuals, a total of over 140. Among those who received pardons were Patty Hearst, former Arizona governor Fife Symmington, and his brother Roger Clinton. There were 2 names that were obviously absent from the list, Shoeless Joe Jackson and Pete Rose. It was obvious from this omission that President Clinton does not believe these two have a place in the Baseball Hall of Fame nor as regular citizens. These two players are on a list which banishes them from baseball for life making them ineligible for consideration for the Hall of Fame. I have a hard time believing that these cases were not heard by the president and overturned. Granted, Pete Rose did accept his punishment voluntarily and he did bet on baseball so from a traditionalist standpoint, perhaps the evidence against Mr. Rose was more than even the president could withstand thereby forcing President Clinton's hand into upholding the ruling against Charlie Hustle. What I cannot understand is his lack of respect for Shoeless Joe Jackson. Even the Chicago courts in 1919 could not convict Jackson, especially after the numbers he put up during the World Series. How can someone possibly be throwing a World Series when he hits .375 in 8 games with 3 doubles, a home run and 6 runs batted in? I cannot fathom how President Clinton did not pardon Joe and insist that Major League Baseball place his name on the Hall of Fame ballot. It is a travesty! My only hope is that with George W. Bush in the White House that baseball players will once again be pardoned so that they can once again be recognized for their accomplishments on and off the field.

The Arizona Diamondbacks announced today that they had signed closer Matt Mantei to a four-year contract extension. With this statement, the female teenage population of the greater Phoenix area sighed in relief. Had the Diamondbacks not been able to re-sign the "Ice Man" it would have left girls everywhere with broken hearts. It was bad enough with boy hunk Travis Lee was sent to Philadelphia, a town so rough that they boo Santa Claus. To allow Vanilla Ice's twin to also leave town would have been more damaging than Leonardo DiCapro getting a pimple. For one reason or another, Matt Mantei has become the poster child for girls 12-15 wherever he has played. I wish I had a dollar for every "Ice Ice Baby" T-shirt I saw on a young girl around the Diamondbacks bullpen. I at least thought that my kids would be immune from this behavior. Instead, Tiffany has become one of Matt's biggest fans. Her enamor for Matt though is less for his looks and more for his fastball. Early on in his career with the Diamondbacks, she made friends with him and they became buds talking before every game. Usually the conversation would be about pitch selection or Tiffany would suggest he work on another location next time he pitches to a certain batter. When I came home from work yesterday, it was Tiffany who met me at the door to tell me that Mantei had been re-signed for another four years. "That's good." I said to her. "Yeah, that should help the other pitchers in the bullpen to understand their roles. If Matt had become a free agent after this season, we would have been in trouble. Do you think he has been working on his breaking ball this winter?" she replied. Ah, all is right with the world when your daughter understands the importance of a good slider.

Today, Major League Baseball owners met in downtown Phoenix for their winter meetings. Foremost on the agenda was the discussion to restore competitive balance to Major League Baseball. Of course everything they would talk about must be agreed upon by the Players union so I am not sure what the big deal is. Peg leg Selig has come up with the idea that there should be a draft where the 8 worst teams would be able to draft a player from the best 8 teams. This would somehow allow the weaker teams to get talented players and make them more competitive. I am still unclear how this is going to make any difference. After all, everyone had the chance to draft these players in the first place. Now that they are established, I guess Bud believes they should get another chance to correct the scouting mistakes they made in the first place. I wonder how long it is going to take before the owners finally realize that some of these teams are just run by idiots and that by getting rid of some of the owners and replacing them with people that actually know baseball they will restore competitive balance. It will also take someone to explain to the owners (using small words) that they don't have unlimited money and that there will be a point when the fans will no longer accept owners increasing ticket prices in order to pay for these outrageous player contracts. Funny, I didn't realize the circus was back in town. Maybe I should go downtown and try to catch a glimpse at the clowns.

During the long dark days of winter, this date stands out as a beacon of light. I can always look to this day as a sign that warmer weather and spring training is just around the corner. For today marks the day that Major League Baseball announces the inductees into the Baseball Hall of Fame. I sat close to the computer today to keep close tabs on who was voted in and who was passed over.

Seven score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand developed the game of baseball. This momentous game came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of sports fans who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of captivity. But one hundred fifty years later, we must face the tragic fact that the baseball fan is still not free.

Raising a son is much different than raising daughters. I am always amazed at what a difference there is. Today was another prime example. Each Sunday, we get the kids ready for church and attend services. I believe it is important that kids are taught to be bored while acting attentive so in this sense church acts as a great teaching tool. As a leader, Trina usually has several additional meetings that she must attend. Some of these occur before church and on those days, I am responsible for getting the children ready to go.

"Sunday! Sunday! Sunday! You don't want to miss the carnage and destruction as the Grave Digger faces off against Goldberg in the match of the century! See the beasts of the midway do battle in the Monster Truck Rally!"

In the seven years I have lived in Arizona, I have learned one thing about the weather in January, if you don't like it, wait 5 seconds and it will change. Well, that has been the case today. I awoke this morning to the wind pelting my bedroom window with rain. It is really hard to get out of bed knowing you are going to have to face that kind of weather. Now before I hear from anyone in Seattle who tells me I don't know what rain is, let me explain that rain in Arizona is unlike anywhere else. When we were deciding on whether to move here, I did some research to see what the weather was like. Everywhere I looked I was told that the Phoenix area received around 10 inches of rain a year. Well, 10 inches, that's not to bad. I can live with that. What they don't tell you is that 10 inches of rain occurs in a single storm. I have never seen rain fall like this in my life. Within an hour, what was once a park where children were playing soccer is transformed into a pool where children are playing water polo. I do not believe that Noah saw rain this bad in his 40 day cruise.

I have been waiting for 71 days to hear word on Arizona Diamondbacks season ticket relocation. Each day I have followed the mail carrier around the neighborhood to see if there was an envelope for me from the Diamondbacks. I have avoided the phone like it has the plague fearful that every time it rings the Diamondbacks will be on the other end telling me I will be sitting in the same seats for the 2001 season. I have hesitated calling the ticket office for fear that they would say "Oh, Mr. Summers, we have been trying to get a hold of you to tell you we have moved you to the top of the upper deck." At first I had heard that the relocation process would be finished by the week of Christmas. Then I heard that the Diamondbacks were modifying their ticketing process and it would take until the first week of January. Well, now we are in the second week and I have still not heard anything. I keep thinking though, I should have heard something by now.

The Arizona Diamondbacks today announced that they had invited 11 non-roster players to spring training. After hearing that news, I immediately headed for the mail box. Surely they would not have forgotten to invite me! As I reached the mail, my ever fearful mail carrier again explained that I did not receive anything from the Diamondbacks. She is indeed nervous whenever I am around but that is another story for another day. Dejected, I made my way back to the house still wondering why I had not received an invitation. After all, I have not missed a Diamondbacks game at Bank One Ballpark, how could they have missed me? Oh sure, I am nearly 40 years old and I have had 3 shoulder surgeries to fix problems which have stemmed from pitching for 31 years but Mike Morgan is older than I am and Russ Springer sometimes pitches like he has had that number of surgeries. All I am asking is for an invitation. I mean even Garth Brooks got invited, how's that for getting no respect. Looks like I am going to have to send another letter to Bob Brenly. Looks like the guy just isn't listening yet.

Today marks the beginning of the most bizarre season in baseball, salary arbitration. I would venture to say that salary arbitration is probably the most misunderstood aspect of the game. I hesitate to even say that since arbitration is really not part of the game. It is one of those pieces of a labor agreement that is probably decided upon at the last minute before ratification that no one seems to think through before it was implemented. I wondered though, is it possible that salary arbitration might work in other aspects of life? I decided that the only way to decide this was to put it to the test.

It is now the second week of January and I still hesitate to answer the phone at home or at work. It is not that I am afraid of the phone, it is that I am afraid of who might be on the other end of the phone. It has been nearly 6 weeks since I have sent in my Arizona Diamondbacks seat relocation forms. At first I was told that the process would be completed by the week of Christmas. Then that date was revised to the first of January. I was told that if they could not relocate my seats, I would receive a phone call. If my seat relocation request was successful, I would be notified by mail. Each day since that time, whenever the phone would ring, I would hold my breath and cringe before picking up the receiver. When I found that it was not the Diamondbacks ticket office on the other end of the phone, I was relieved. Why even last week, I was grateful to hear from the dentist office reminding me that it was time to come in for a cleaning. That was the first time I can remember when I was actually relieved to hear I needed my teeth worked on.

There are few things a man becomes more attached to than his remote control. At first, these little devices were a luxury best afforded by those with the money and girth of King Henry VIII. After all, we prided ourselves on being able to operate any kind of electrical device. Soon though, more and more of us found that we were no longer required to watch a television show through to the end. Instead, we could change channels during a commercial and see what else was on. Television manufacturers began to offer other features on the remote control beyond the basic functions of channel and volume. Soon, I found myself changing the sound field on a program. Of course with all of this new technology, there also came some social responsibility that most men learned the hard way. For example, it is NOT recommended to switch channels whenever something your wife wants to watch comes on. It is also not suggested to change the sound field of the stereo receiver so that whenever your wife watches "Touched by an Angel" sounds like it was cast with a team of psycho robots.

In most cases, I can usually find something to do about the time that Trina is in need of a helping hand with house work. It is a knack I developed early in our marriage and have honed through the years. No before you get bent out of shape that I don't do my part around the house, you should know that this arrangement is in the best interest of our household.

"Sir, we have all the information we need to draw up our battle plans." With this statement, my daily routine was interrupted in what would be the most important activity I would do to date this millennium. Granted, the millennium was only 5 days old but still, this was pretty important work. I cleared off my desk with one sweep of my hand. Oh sure, the cleaning lady would complain tonight when she attempted to get into my office but was met with a knee-high pile of unfinished work strewn across the floor. That was not my concern at this point in time. I had more important information I had to deal with.

There are times that I am truly amazed at the things Trina does. Whether it is doing 15 loads of laundry making dinner and still having enough energy to go out to a movie or doing a service project for the community that takes countless hours of planning and execution to complete successfully Trina is truly an incredible woman. It has been said of course that there must be opposition in all things so there are times when she does some less than incredible things as well. Before I begin down that thought path, I want to make it perfectly clear I love her more than anything in the world and in no way would I belittle her or place her in a bad light. There are just times when I wonder what in the world has gotten into her. Today was a prime example. I awoke this morning to the strangest sound. I laid in bed trying to comprehend what it was. It went something like boing, boing, boing, thud. This repeated itself about three times before it stopped. I could not for the life of me figure out what was going on. So still groggy from being woke up, I stumbled down the stairs to determine where this noise was coming from. As I rounded the corner to the dining room, I saw Trina standing there with Tiffany's Pogo Stick. She seemed surprised to see me. Of course should could not have looked nearly as surprised as I was seeing a grown woman attempting to jump on a pogo stick. "What in the world are you doing?" I asked. "I was just wondering if I could still jump on one of these things. Did I wake you?" was her response. This is the kind of moment when you have to stop and pinch yourself to make sure this is not some kind of strange dream like when a kangaroo wearing your mother's bathroom slippers steps out of the closet and begins to recite Newton's Third Law of Thermodynamics. Just to make sure, I opened the closet door and peered inside. "No, I usually always wake up to the sounds of a mother of 5 bouncing around the kitchen like some sort of deranged marsupial" I explained.

Six months ago, a dental appointment on January 3 sounded like a good idea. Now that the date arrived, that idea sucked. I have a deep seated fear of dentists. It all stems from my childhood. The first dentist I ever went to was named Dr. Payne (no joke). Furthermore, he did not believe in novocaine. This led to some interesting experiences as he drilled on my teeth without painkiller. I remember begging my mother not to make me go to the dentist. I remember her bribing me to not cry when I had my cavity filled. The one silver lining to this episode in my life was that I got some of the best Hot Wheels cars of my youth as a result of going to the dentist and testing my pain threshold. Even so, I still cringe and shudder whenever I hear the sound of dental instruments. So to say I was hesitant about this appointment this morning would have been an understatement. I knew this was merely a checkup and cleaning but the thought of going to the dentist was nearly more than I could stand. I sat in the waiting room and I could hear the drill going behind the wall. Although I have never been a prisoner of war, I can fully imagine what it was like to a lesser extent. But after an hour appointment, I was finished and headed for the door. When I got outside, there was Trina waiting for me. "I just got off the phone with the doctor. They want you to come over for some shots." Could this day get any worse? First the dentist, then the doctor. What next, do I need to go to the vet to have my dog put to sleep? This millennium sucks!

It is hard to believe that Whitney is now seven years old. It seems like only yesterday that I was in the delivery room nearly passing out while Trina gave birth to our daughter. At the time, I remember we were excited. Trina could be delivering the first baby in Idaho Falls for the new year. At the last moment, another was born making Whitney the second baby born in 1994. It is interesting. The first baby of the year gets all sorts of gifts and a big deal is made of the birth. The second baby born in the year gets nothing but a bill from the hospital. It just doesn't seem quite fair.

It is interesting what a difference a year makes. Last year at this time I was working on the Y2K team verifying all the computer systems would continue to run after the clock turned to 2000. There was worldwide panic that computers would come crashing down when the year turned to "00". Instead, it became one of the greatest non-events in the history of mankind. The world heralded the coming of the year 2000 as the new millennium. Of course they were wrong. This new year marked the change of the millennium since there was no year 0. I had huge plans for the ringing in of 2001 and the dawn of a new thousand years. At first I had wanted to go to Orlando to spend New Year's Eve at Walt Disney World. I soon found that all the rooms were reserved for this event. I then thought perhaps we would take a cruise but none of the family were interested in that idea. I even toyed with the idea momentarily of taking the kids to Idaho but soon decided that the last thing we needed was to ring in the new year freezing up to our knees in snow and ice. Finally, I suggested we go to the Tempe Block Party where Hootie and the Blowfish would be performing. We could watch fireworks over Tempe Town Lake and see the giant chip fall into the bowl of salsa. Again, no one was interested in my suggestions. Instead, we spent a quiet evening at home watching DVD movies. At the stroke of midnight, Trina and I kissed and she announced she was going to bed. Wow, when exactly did we get old? I seemed to miss something. So here I sit in the quiet solitude as a new year dawns wondering what the next 1,000 years will bring.