I haven't a lot to say.

I know, I know, that's usually the prelude to my longest entries...oh!

If any of the journallers I read--- who also read me--- live in the San Diego area, they might email me. There's a chance I might be out there in late December....and not alone, either.

I wonder how Eric will take a ride in a plane? He's usually good on bus rides...I guess, this is the only way to find out for sure...

I know why all the polls are showing that people are generally patient and reasonable under the uncertainty of the election. Why we're willing to wait.

The cessation of the political ads.

We are so grateful for the loss of those insulting, grating ads, that occupied every waking moment in front of the tube or the radio, that we're grateful for anything else---even if it's the news talking about the election. The venom seems reserved for the press conference and the courts, and not spilling onto us at all.

Today, in my Supervisor class, one of the best of the CEOs gave a talk. He walks everywhere, and I see him at least once a day---checking on everybody, never forgetting a name, keeping abreast on everything....

Well, today, I found out why.

He admitted he gets up at three-thirty every morning.

Every morning.

No wonder he walks everywhere in the three stories of the building. If he ever slowed down, he'd fall asleep...

The moral seems to be, the early bird gets the worm, work is the best way to get ahead, etc. I keep on thinking to myself, work smarter, not harder......obviously I'm not born supervisor material.

He also started out his talk by saying,

"Leadership is like that Supreme Court definition of pornography---'I'm not sure what it is, but I know it when I see it...'"

So what did I get out of his talk?

That "leadership is like pornography" is all that immediately comes to mind...

Like I said: not born supervisor material.

Xoom/ncbi where I store the individual entries seems to be entirely down. So though I'm writing this now, who knows when I'll be able to upload it?

So I might as well tell the story of the movie I successfully avoided seeing.

Last Saturday, Barb and I had to go visit some friends, and Barb said, as we were going out,

"Brian, would you mind watching Eric while your Dad and I saw a movie, too?"

"No problem."

I said to her,

"Which movie?"

"BILLY ELLIOT."

Now, I knew the answer, but sometimes you hope against hope that you're wrong. So I said,

"BILLY ELLIOT...what's that about, again?"

"That's the British movie about a miner's son who's taking boxing but takes up ballet instead. Critics are raving about how good the performances are."

"Oh."

A ballet movie. She seriously wants us to see a ballet movie. Together.

Now, I will be the first to admit that ballet dancers can be the world's greatest atheletes. That some male ballet dancers are studs that would put Harlan Ellison and Warren Beatty at their randiest to shame. There is nothing unmanly about being a ballet dancer...

But geez! whines the ten-year-old within me,Do I gotta watch it?

I can watch opera. I can watch classical Shakespearean theatre. I can watch musicals. I can even watch disco.

Yet deep within me, something ---revolts--- about watching ballet. Everybody has a weakness. Ballet is mine.

How to tell Barb? This is the first time we'll have seen a movie together in weeks. She's already seen CHARLIE'S ANGELS, and I didn't really want to see even that---although I'd rather see Drew Barrymoore use karate moves on a bad guy than watch ballet.

Ah...that's what's wrong with ballet, at least in my twisted point of view. They jump and they spin but they never do anything with their bodies that seems useful. If in THE NUTCRACKER SUITE all the sugar plum faries would suddenly unleash a kung fu kick at the Rat King or Mouse King or whatever he is, it would stop the tedium.

What I really want is--- ballet fu. Where in the middle of it all, Barishnikov gives a Bruce Lee screech, and then uses one of those long leaps and kicks to flatten the bad guy.

After we got through with our friends, we got back in the car---it was about three in the afternoon--- and I checked the times.

"Bummer. There was a one o'clock showing, and there's a four-thirty showing---but nothing on anytime soon."

"Oh, well, we can go another time."

"Yes. What a shame."

The next day, she wanted to go see it, but only had minutes to make the first one'o'clock performance, and we had just gotten back from church and I was half-undressed.

"You mind if I go on to BILLY ELLIOT without you? I won't make it otherwise..."

"I'll manage," I said, trying to keep from grinning. "Have fun."

The happiest of marriages sometimes have these little hypocrisies in them....

....But at least I got out of watching a ballet movie. The ten-year-old within breathed a sigh of relief.