The flight from Chicago to Dallas was a piece of cake. Flying on Monday nights is the way to go. O'Hare Terminal 1 (United) was empty, and my flight was empty, too. I didn't make sense to waste an upgrade when Economy Plus was wide open.

On the flight, I finished a book, Weapons of Mass Deception by Rampton & Stauber of the Center for Media and Democracy, and continued another The Man with Golden Arm by Nelson Algren. Weapons was okay. I'd read most of it in other books, publications, or websites. The chapter on Charlotte Beers was interesting, but, again, it wasn't anything new. On the good side, the book is well-researched and annotated to the point where you can go to the websites to see their sources. Cool 21st century stuff. I think the book is better for the ignorant herds that believe everything they see on TV or that fail or refuse to exercise any critical or analytical-thinking. In other words, most people will benefit from this book.

Algren's Golden Arm is another story. I've been picking it up and setting it down for a couple of months now. I've read numerous critical essays on its significance to American literature, and I'm bought into Algren's importance to Chicago's literary landscape. I just can't get into it.

It's his style. I can't find a rhythm as I read. The book is funny, and the details of down-and-out Division Street of the 1940's are classic, especially for a Chicagoan. However, everytime I find something I like, Algren tosses in an overly-slanged-up wad of twisted prose that just doesn't click for me. I had the same trouble with A Walk on the Wild Side and with some of his short stories. I suppose I'm comparing Algren to two other authors I just read, Michael Chabon and Graham Greene. Both are much easier to read than Algren.

I enjoyed both Chabon (Mysteries of Pittsburgh) and Greene (The Third Man) in the past, and I liked the books that I just recently finished, too. Chabon's The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay was pure joy. The novel was fluid, beautiful, and fun. Greater than 600 pages flew by, and I was sad for it to end. Greene's The Quiet American was a breeze of a read because it was short, and his prose is stripped-down to sinew like Hemingway. I was cruising until I decided to try Golden Arm again. Now, I'm slogging along, but I'm not giving up hope though. Maybe it'll click in the end.

Okay, back to Texas...everything is fine so far. Last night, I got lost exiting the Rental Car area, as usual (you gotta see and experience DFW to believe it). For dinner, I went to Whataburger, a Texas institution honored by the state legislature as a "Texas Treasure" (yes, very true). After that, I bought snacks and baseball cards at the same 7-Eleven where I used to go when I worked out here and, then, headed to the Marriott. Sounds fun, huh?

It's been quite some time since my last blog entry. Why? Work, work, work. Yes, I'm back into the consulting grind. No more F-in' the D. Oh well.

The work is interesting, but challenging. It's been nice to work in Chicago, but that's coming to a halt. I'm not going to be on the road all the time, but trips here and there will now pop up. The first is next week. I'm heading to Texas, baby!

I have to spend three days in Dallas to lead a workshop. I haven't been to Texas in about 3.5 years so I'm looking forward to it. I have some friends there, and I hope to have, at least, a drink with all of them.

I like Dallas. In the past, I had two assignments there and found a lot to do and places to go. It isn't "Texas" as people think of it, but there's enough regional culture to get a taste. I'm looking forward to visiting some bars, coffeehouses, and restaurants that I haven't seen in years. Well, hopefully...as long as work doesn't suck away every single solitary second. We'll see. Yeee-haaaaw!

I've been thinking a lot about Catholicism lately. The national eruptions of child molestation accusations and convictions bother me enormously. How can the Vatican down to the lay people NOT be appalled and sickened by what has been revealed? How can people continue their dedication to this denomination? I was baptized and confirmed many moons ago, but I fervently distanced myself from the church, notably when I arrived at college. In school, I took time to research other religions and to listen to their practitioners. I wanted to understand the power and surrender of "faith" and the shunning of empiricism, counterpoint, free will, and philosophical risk. In short, my journey showed me that there are no correct beliefs or answers, and to succumb to a dogma is to relieve oneself of the single trait that separates man from animal, the ability to reason. Establishing this point of view and buttressing it through experience and thought moved me far away from the papacy and its teachings. Now, it's easy to remark that people stop going to church because they're lazy or weak, but former Catholics must come up with the reasons for why they left the church.

My reasons for leaving Catholicism are four-fold. It's true that each point requires its own discourse, but, here in the blog, I'll just raise the issues to get others to think about them. They are:

1. I don't believe that Christ is the Son of God, the absolute, fundamental tenet of Christianity.
2. I don't agree with the historical actions of the Catholic Church, all executed in the name of Christ.
3. I don't agree with the rigid rules of practice, perpetuated in the name of tradition.
4. I don't agree with the politics of the papacy.

If those are my stances, the Catholic Church may skip over my application to be a bingo barker. Fine. After I explained all of these points to a Catholic friend of mine, in essence, he replied, "Okay, we don't want you in the church." Huh? What about the shepard reuniting the lost sheep with the flock? I didn't expect my friend to say, "Hey, you're right. I'm through with this religion, too." I figured that he'd, at least, drop a point or two, attempting to bring me back into the fold. The Catholic Church wants its laity to evangelize and reach out to those who have strayed. My friend's response, in my opinion, is indicative of the church's inflexibility and aversive to dissent. Of course, his lack of parry to my thrust only firmed my position, but I'm still not satisfied with just opinions loaded in my brain, waiting for the right discussion to discharge. I thought to myself, "This isn't for me anymore. Therefore, if I can be confirmed officially into the church, can I now renounce my affiliation to the Catholic Church?"

Over time, I hope to do just that. I've joked about un-confirming myself and had a brief discussion with a priest years ago about such an endeavor (he didn't take me seriously, I think, because I'd been drinking...oops). I'm currently researching ways to set up new discussions with local Catholic priests to investigate formally removing myself from the Catholic Church. I plan to pursue "un-confirmation" with the same ardor I used research and reason to form my post-Catholic opinions. The ultimate goal is to meet Francis Cardinal George of the Archdiocese of Chicago. An audience with Cardinal George would be a feat, but why wouldn't he want to speak to me?

I'm going to try to quit smoking. I've been smoking regularly for five years and have really wanted to quit for the last couple. What kept me smoking, I realized, was stress at work and the fact that my wife smoked, too. Both of those factors are changing slowly, but surely.

Smoking for me was a distraction from the stress of work. For better or for worse, I used smoke breaks to get out of my office, clear my head, and just take some "me" time. The constant travel, the long hours, and the thankless clients and co-workers cranked up tension and drove me to continue the habit. I wasn't a secret smoker. My clients and teammates knew I did it. They had their fun with it or took the time to tell me how bad it was for me (no shit, busybodies). In part, I continued to do it just to flash a defiant streak and be painted as an outsider (especially in CA where I worked for 16 months). Now, thanks to avoiding weekly work travel for the next seven months, my overall, weight-on-the-shoulders stress has reduced remarkably. Will the stress kick back up once the work gets crazy again? I'm sure, but I'm going to try, try, try to reject the smokes and not use them as a crutch or a way to escape.

The other change that will diminish the desire is that my wife won't be having one with me. She made a pact with herself in college that she wouldn't smoke for longer than ten years. She began at 21, and she turns 31 at the end of March. She plans to make her 31st birthday the last day. The last few times I tried to quit, it was very hard because my wife continued to smoke. When I saw her lighting up, the siren song called me back, and I smashed the smoke-free boat right into the rocks. Doing it together will make it easier for sure, but I know it won't be a slam dunk.

So, if you're in the neighborhood this spring or summer, please be patient and understanding if I'm a bit snippy or distracted. Getting the monkey off my back will be a process, certainly not an event. Wish me luck (and send black Twizzlers and sunflower seeds)!

Here are the weekend highlights:

1. I finished the last two pieces of work in our master bedroom: the thresholds from family room to bedroom and from bedroom to master bathroom. After we do some touch-up work along the baseboards, we'll be done!

2. Tomorrow, we'll probably buy all of our bedroom furniture. Months and months ago, we scoped out every piece at a Chicago-based furniture store. Now, it's just a matter of slapping down the plastic and waiting for the delivery truck!

3. Michael Schumacher won the F1 Australian Grand Prix. Ferrari took 1st and 2nd, and my team, Williams, placed 4th and 5th behind Fernando Alonso's Renault. I didn't watch the race, but caught up with everything at autosport.com.

4. We're going to Second City tomorrow to watch a friend's boyfriend perform some improv. I haven't been there in years so it'll be fun.

5. The new season of The Sopranos starts Sunday night at 8pm CT. I love the show so much that I plan my Sundays around it. It's the only show for which I have that kind of loyalty, and it's totally worth it. The Sopranos and Curb Your Enthusiasm are the best shows on television, period.

I'm digging my new blog style. Yes, essays will pop up every now and then, but I'm getting used to commenting more frequently and with less prep and research. If I ever create my own homepage, I'll post essays there.

It's good to drink beer again. I don't know why, but I've been on a hiatus for weeks. I suppose that's a good thing, you know, not drinking beer and all that. But, man, it tastes good. Our friend, E (not the drug, but Everardo), came over tonight to play Xbox, and, in tow, he brought Guinness and Harp. Thanks to a Black and Tan spoon bought by my wife during our last trip to Dublin, we were able to mix the two, making the special American layered concoction. Good times. (True, you can use Bass, but why? Arthur makes Guinness and Harp so stick with the originals.)

I learned in Galway that the Irish don't drink Black and Tans. At the hotel where we were staying, I had to explain to the bartender how to render it. Needless to say, it lacked the normal separation, but, hey, I learned a lesson: Stick to the straight pints of The Black. The Irish do that nicely--in fact, to no surpirse--better than any place on Earth. Cheers!

My new project at work is getting interesting, but I'm not sure if that's a good turn of events. After three weeks, I'm finally getting a handle on what it is that I'm staffed to do. Ostensibly, I'm here to get the global client-facing executives ready to use a particular software package on the job. However, over this short time, I have learned that I'm really here to wrangle egos, avoid political traps, and ever-so-gently persuade these high-flyers to do work over the next six months. This is no small task, considering the hubris and bullying that pervades the upper eschelons of my company, but, nonetheless, it will certainly be interesting. I'm sure that, as long as my employment continues, these circumstances will provide entertaining blog entries as I open the hood and see how the machine works.

I recommend that everyone reads some Christopher Hitchens. You may know him from The Nation or Vanity Fair, but don't pass judgment based on what you think of those publications. He's witty (in the dry English way), immensely erudite, and famously opinionated. Hitchens skewers the left and the right with equal energy, and he loves to rip back the curtain to reveal the chicanery and mendacity of The Wizard. I just plowed through two of his books (The Trial of Henry Kissinger and Why Orwell Matters) and enjoyed them equally to his controversial The Missionary Position, a long essay on the less-than-saintly Mother Theresa. He critiques those who are believed to be beyond reproach, and he relishes the opportunity to sacrifice sacred cows in the name of full disclosure. What could be more fun?

With all that, what's best about Hitchens, beyond persuasive arguments and entertaining prose, is his command of the English language. His pieces are lessons in vocabulary and structure. I guarantee the need of a dictionary at the bedside and some brush-up from your handy college writing text. These, to many, may be reasons enough to avoid the "H" aisle and dart to the John Grisham display, but, if you're looking to work out the brain a bit, take a crack at any of his books.

I'm easing up on the politics for a bit. I'm going to try to make more frequent, but far less detailed blog entries. For example:

Recently, an old friend asked me for some book recommendations. He reads a lot of current events and political books, but wants a change a pace because those genres have been making him angry lately.

So how about some books that don't evoke anger? I put together for him a list of books that made me laugh out loud:

A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy Toole (my favorite book of all time; hilarious; read the book and then go to Canal Street in New Orleans to see the statue of Ignatius J. Reilly; my damn cat is named after the protagonist of this book.)

The Great American Novel by Philip Roth (The Bad News Bears meet Joe McCarthy...what could be better? Also very funny so don't dismiss if baseball makes you roll your eyes.)

The Roaches Have No King by Daniel Evan Weiss (a bug's eye view of human behavior; funny and very ironic; a lot of it makes you wince or gag, but in a...you know...good way.)

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller (if you haven't read it, now's the time, especially, because we're a nation "at war".)

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey (ditto for this classic; try your best to remove Jack Nicholson from your imagination because Randall McMurphy's more like Kesey in build, countenance, and demeanor)

The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde (a play that you can read in one night, and you'll howl through the whole thing)


Of course, I can't take my own medicine. I recently finished Lies My Teachers Told Me and the Christopher Hitchens polemic, The Trial of Henry Kissinger, and I'm about done with another Hitchens critique, Why Orwell Matters. I think I'm moving on to Orwell's 1984 next. I haven't read it in its entirety yet.