Please, Uncle Gary, Take Me To Cadbury World!

I'm flipping! Gary Turner's taking the family to Cadbury World and that means me and Fiona and Cameron all with chocolate smeared from one ear to the other! Really looking forward to my trip to the UK next week and who needs Disneyworld or Legoland when you've got Cadbury World!

Two Lessons On Alpha Male-it-tude Coming Up

I've written Lessons 10 and 11 and I'm just fussing with them. They are both about what can really bring an Alpha Male to his knees -- I mean bring him down, ruin him, wreck all the great alpha momentum he's built up. One is about anger and one is about women. Both can be lethal to an Alpha Male. Especially women.

When 30 Degrees Feels Like Aruba

Pretty frightening what you can get used to. A good part of this week it was as cold as 7, 8, 9 even 10 degrees with wind chills making it a lot lower. Today it's 30 and I swear, it feels like a warm spring day at the beach. And the worst part is to realize how you can get used to something DREADFUL and make it your "new normal" all too quickly. My son's Little League sign-up sheet came in the mail today. Baseball, yeah, right, sure, I think to myself. It seems about 8 months off now that we live in Siberia. I'll have to see it to believe it.

Ruminating on Young Beta Males

I've been getting some very interesting comments about the Alpha Male series from guys ages 18 - 35. I'll call them Beta Males for no good reason, except like a lot of beta software they are busy testing and testing and testing all limits and all established ways of thinking and working and living. And yesterday I heard Warren Bennis talk about his new book which discusses the way his generation (he's a brilliant vital sexy 77 years old) defined and lived their lives and how that generation of younger folks is currently living and how DIFFERENT many of their choices are. This younger group is very concerned about striking a balance between work and life. In fact, it occurred to me that if you really want to know "What Ever Happened To Feminism" ask guys ages 18 to 35 -- they are egalitarian, they are progressive, they are vehement about a balance of fun, work, learning, sex, parenting, travel, sports, love, passion on all levels.

As I listened to Warren talk and especially as he presented an interview with Crandall of American Airlines, a prototypical stern, austere ball-breaking Alpha Male who spoke about "work-life balance" as if it were something perfectly REVOLTING in his mouth which he'd like to spit out and wash down the drain, I suddenly wondered -- were these the fathers of that younger generation of men who abandoned them? Were these the alpha male dads who were never home, never at little league, never affectionate and has that shaped these younger men's attitudes about what they want from work and family? They seem more keen on this than women of their generation. I feel off of their emails a sense of loss about their fathers and no interest in repeating the absentee dad/alpha male at work role.

I think they may lead us out of the woods these smart young caring guys. I can't wait to watch what they do in this new world they are building. Bennis talks about "the crucible" -- that is, the difficult situations that form a generation. Imagine the crucible of 9/11 and the go-go-fall-flat internet boom-bust years. Unlike Crandall's post-depression and post-war generation, these younger folks have gone through even more devastating losses in some ways. They will not chose the lives of their fathers, these young men. And these young women will not live like their glass-ceilinged moms or any other generation of women before them, because they will have AMAZING men to live and work with.

Back To The Beach

I knew I was doing all those abdominal crunches for some good reason. Heading out to the beach soon. Yes, it's bikini weather again.

Hey, Lady

At Christmas I decided to give a few people who don't make a lot of money big tips, instead of giving a lot of my friends who are getting by well enough more gifts they don't need. One person I figured deserved some money was my son's bus driver. I count on him to be there and get my son safely to school and with my schedule if he weren't there, I'd be late to work all the time and my whole day would be a mess, so I really appreciate what he does. He's a bit of a curmudgeon though and rather cranky with me and my son now and then, because we're often dashing down the sidewalk to make the bus and nearly miss it about 3 mornings out of 5 and probably throw off his schedule.

On the last morning before Christmas vacation, I put $50 in a christmas card with the message "Thanks for all your hard work," written on it and put it in an envelope and sealed it and stuffed it in my pocket and ran off to the bus stop with my cute 2nd grader. We weren't even late. I was excited about the envelope in my pocket and figured no one else was giving him much of anything that day and he would really appreciate it.

He pulled up and didn't look very happy, despite it being nearly Christmas. "Hey, Lady," he started, as my son got in cautiously, "your kid is nothing but trouble in my bus. He won't sit down, he won't listen to me, he's constantly jumping around ..." he goes on and on, really giving me hell in front of the kids and other parents at the bus stop. In my pocket, I'm picking at one corner of the envelope, thinking twice about giving it to him, even thinking twice about taking the thing out of my pocket. Finally he's done and about to close the folding doors on me as I step up into his bus and stand on the first step.

I hand him the envelope and say "I'm sorry, I'll talk to my son, but here, Merry Christmas," I say. I exit quickly. I can tell from his face he's thinking, "great, another lousy christmas card I don't need."

The bus pulls away and I start walking back to my house. And I start grinning, because I realize when he finally opens the envelope he is going to be just dying to realize he'd balled me out and I'd taken it and I still gave him the card and the money. And then I started laughing out loud, wishing I could be there when he opens it.

Two weeks later on the first day back to school, the bus pulls up and there was one very appreciative bus driver there to greet my son and thank me and his sheepish look was worth so much more than the fifty bucks.

A Sexual Sea Change: Women Who Cheat

From the Goose/Gander Department, Elle Magazine has a piece on infidelity in marriage and it's NOT about straying husbands.

I see women today deciding to have affairs the way they decide to go back to school or get a job or have a baby: If you don’t get what you need completely from marriage, you go and get it from a lover.

Spring Forth

I saw it this weekend -- lovely, lovely weekend -- at the spa getting my toes and fingernails painted Easter Egg pink pre-partying. I saw the spring just bursting forth. A pile of women's fashion magazines with glossy covers showing off bare legs, miniskirts, pretty sandals, sling-backs in pastel pink and blue and lavendar, sexy mules -- those cute little shoes girls wear that look like they're just about to slip off.

We're currently buried in ice and snow -- as I swam in the blue pool I poked my head out the tiniest bit to look out the window at a winter landscape of black, white, grey, ice, snow, bare branches and thought of Dorothy in Oz leaving that murderous house of hers, one minute in black and white and the next in a riot of color and I suddenly realized that's just what we're about to see. Deep in the earth the bulbs were sucking down the winter sun like liquor and the buds were hiding nestled in those bare branches, tiny bouquets of palest pink all ready to burst forth with brazen blossoms and rain down flower petals, littering the streets with a swirl of pretty girls in flippy, flirty skirts of spring defiance. I saw it. I saw all the girls getting their toes painted in pinks and corals and peaches and reds and I can't wait to watch them sashay down the boulevards on the way to meet someone at a cafe. It's coming. A swoon of spring headed our way.

Alpha Male Links -- Lessons 1 through 18

I keep getting requests for the links to the earlier blog posts of my "How To Become An Alpha Male in 18 Easy Lessons" series, so here are all the links so far:

Lesson One: Getting It -- January 3, 2003

Lesson Two: Giving It -- January 4, 2003

Lesson Three: Why Alpha Males Get Pussy Galore -- January 5, 2003

Lesson Four: Stag Films -- January 7, 2003

Lesson Five: Confidence Game -- January 12, 2003

Lesson Six: Alpha Males Have Things--January 15, 2003

Lesson Seven: Pretty, Pretty, Girl --January 15, 2003

Lesson Eight: How To Get An Alpha Male -- January 17, 2003

Lesson Nine: Do The Right Thing -- January 23, 2003

Lesson Ten: I Second That Emotion -- February 1, 2003

Lesson Eleven: Take Me -- February 17, 2003

Lesson Twelve : The Post-Alpha Male -- March 11, 2003

Lesson Thirteen: The Real Alpha Male -- March 13, 2003

Lesson Fourteen: All About Size -- April 17, 2003

Lesson Fifteen: You Must Remember This -- May 11, 2003

Lesson Sixteen: Power Play -- May 18, 2003

Lesson Seventeen: Love Letter To An Alpha Male -- July 3, 2003

Lesson Eighteen: My Alpha Boy -- August 19, 2003

This Just In -- Marketing 101

Where do these nutty internet jokes START anyway ... and if they're funny, why doesn't the author want his name out there to get a little credit?

> MARKETING 101
>
> People often ask for an explanation of Marketing.
>
> Perhaps the following analogies will help clear it
> up:
>
> You see a handsome guy at a party.
> You go up to him and say, "I'm fantastic in bed."
> That's Direct Marketing.
>
> You're at a party with a bunch of friends and see a
> handsome guy.
> One of your friends goes up to him and pointing at
> you says, "he's fantastic in bed."
> That's Advertising.
>
> You see a handsome guy at a party.
> You go up to him and get his telephone number.
> The next day you call and say, "Hi, I'm fantastic in
> bed."
> That's Telemarketing.
>
> You're at a party and see a handsome guy.
> You get up and, Give eye contact.
> You walk up to him and pour him a drink.
> You say, "May I," and reach up to kiss him, and then
> say, "By the way, I'm fantastic in bed."
> That's Public Relations.
>
> You're at a party and see a handsome guy.
> He walks up to you and says, "I hear you're
> fantastic in bed."
> That's Brand Recognition.
>
> You're at a party and see a handsome guy.
> You talk him into going home with your friend.
> That's a Sales Rep.
>
> Your friend can't satisfy him so he calls you.
> That's Tech Support.
>
> You're on your way to a party when you realize that
> there could be handsome men in all these houses
> you're passing.
> So you climb onto the roof of one situated toward
> the center and shout at the top of your lungs, "I'm
> fantastic in bed!"
> That's Spam
>
>

How To Become An Alpha Male: Lesson 9: Do The Right Thing

My Poor Alpha Male. He seems to be getting the shit kicked out of him around here. So many people are telling me he's just a selfish, egotistical, sex-obsessed, narcissistic cad. Not so, I say! Not so! You think my Alpha Male spends his day with a front-row seat at Pussy Galore's Flying Circus, saving the world from nuclear annililation, racing around in his Aston Martin, BMW and Q Boat, when he's not ducking Odd Job's razor-sharp steel-rimmed hat? No, he's got more heroic work to do -- like paying the mortgage and making sure to take out the garbage. My Alpha Male knows how to do the right thing.

Watch our hero in action. At dawn, he's waking next to his wife, or maybe not. He's endowed with that most unusual gift -- an erection -- but chances are, no matter who he's next to in bed, unless he's 17 years old, he'll get little chance to enjoy it. He's just got to get up -- not get it up, or keep it up, or get off -- his mistress is the Sony Clock Radio next to the bed and if it's anything past 7:00 am, he's already late. If he's a new dad, he's got a toddler already jumping on top of him and the slightly melancholy thought "hey, I remember when this bed wasn't a kid's trampoline!" races through his head. If he's an old dad, he's got enough worries with college bills, refinancing the house, running a meeting or making some flight to some damned place in the next hour, that it would make anyone want to crawl back under the covers. So what's he do ... don't forget he's a hero ... he drags himself out of bed and faces the day. Gotta love that guy.

At breakfast, he's doing 2nd grade math with his daughter who's braiding Barbie's hair and doesn't care much about carrying. She does light up when he scribbles the answers next to the problems and lets her copy them in her scrunchy writing in the right place. His coffee isn't the way he likes it since they've run out of half-and-half. Watch what our hero does -- does he think, SHE forgot to get half-and-half and adds one more disappointment to his list of wifely misdeeds -- NO! He looks over at her and sees she's up to her ass in alligators as well, packing lunches, writing notes to teachers, dashing for school buses. She's half dressed and not the sexy girl he married by a long shot. No, she's not Dr. Holly Goodhead, but he goes over and gives her a hug and says something terrific like, "what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" and tells her how great she is. Wow! This guy knows how to do the right thing. When he gets to work, he mysteriously finds three pieces of Oreo O's breakfast cereal in his briefcase.

At work he spends a good part of his day trying to dodge the bullets of getting fired, trying to climb the ladder to a promotion -- only now it's an escalator that used to go up but looks more like those endless automatic walkways in airports -- stretching flat for miles with occasional rises -- and when he's not losing heart over his own circumstances, he's called on to help other guys and gals deal with the same disturbing business terrain, which he does with good humor, courage and generosity. He's a hero after all. He gets a call from his brother-in-law mid-morning who's really in dire financial straits and against all better judgment, sends him money. He gets word of an ex-colleague who's drinking problems have taken him out -- or taken whatever life he had left after his ex-wife took everything first. It's a grizzly story, best counterbalanced by a quick trip to the Starbuck's counter to see if the blonde from Michigan is serving today. Ah, she's there. Okay, shoot him -- he likes to flirt with her -- but look at her, especially in that way too tight buttons-might-just-bust-if's-he's-lucky blouse. For goodness sakes, he IS an Alpha Male, let him think about her that way as she offers him "Whipped cream?" for his mocha.

The sunset out his office window isn't so bad. He's got a view at least. Days near an end and he's not looking forward to the evening his wife's arranged with some people he doesn't like who do nothing but put his wife down (how can she NOT notice?), tell them how much smarter THEIR kids are, and always manages to steer the conversation around to how much less they paid for their house down the street which is identical to Alpha Male's humble abode. The office seems a much more welcome place right now than home. He watches a few last guys heading out. And then that crazy new kid, Jones, comes flying in. He's such a kid, so young, but look at him. He did it. He's back with a contract from that son-of-a-bitch client -- he actually got the deal! jones is nearly falling across his desk with a high five. The rest of the guys come out of the woodwork. It's great. High fives all around and they all grab their coats. That contract deserves at least one beer at the joint down the street.

Jones is really thrilled to get his attention. And in that moment, our Alpha Male suddenly sees what power he holds. His life flashes before him -- his wife at breakfast with a sly sexy smile after he was nice to her, the mocha girl, that last turn to smile goodbye to him -- he got under her skin, he saw it, -- his brother-in-law's tone of true gratitude -- his daughter's happy smile to see him help her cheat on her homework while she braided her doll's hair -- his older, tired-out boss rolling his eyes up as Alpha Male heads out with all the young Turks to celebrate, as if to say, thanks, someone needs to do it and I'm just too beat -- and me, did you see me as you led the gang over to the bar on 6th, you passed me on the sidewalk, I gave you a quick smile and look of gratitude, because you make this world a much better place. "My hero" I whispered as you walked by, "You always do the right thing."

Goofy Internet Jokes

Couldn't resist. It's 8 degrees here. Maybe we just need to LAUGH, instead of complaining about how damned cold it is. And if you go outside, don't do what these Eskimos did.

Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly; but when they lit a fire in the craft, it sank, proving once and for all that you can't have your kayak and heat it too.

Two peanuts walk into a bar One was a salted.

A jumper cable walks into a bar. The barman says "I'll serve you, but don't start anything."

A sandwich walks into a bar. The barman says, "Sorry we don't serve food in here."

A dyslexic man walks into a bra.

A man walks into a bar with a slab of asphalt under his arm and says: "A beer please, and one for the road."

Two aerials meet on a roof, fall in love get married. The ceremony wasn't much but the reception was brilliant.

"Doc, I can't stop singing 'The Green, Green Grass of Home.'"
"That sounds like Tom Jones syndrome."
"Is it common?"
"It's not unusual."

Two cannibals are eating a clown. One says to the other: "Does this Taste funny to you?"

Two cows standing next to each other in a field, Daisy says to Dolly "I was artificially inseminated this morning." "I don't believe you," said Dolly. "It's true, no bull!"

A guy walks into the psychiatrist wearing only Glad Wrap shorts. The shrink says, "Well, I can clearly see you're nuts."

Two hydrogen atoms walk into a bar. One says, "I've lost my electron." The other says, "Are you sure?" The first replies, "Yes, I'm positive..."

Deja Moo: The feeling that you've heard this bullsh#t before.

A man takes his Rottweiler to the vet and says, "My dog's cross-eyed, is there anything you can do for him? " "Well," says the vet, "let's have a look at him" So he picks the dog up and examines his eyes, then checks his teeth. Finally, he says "I'm going to have to put him down."
"What?, Because he's cross-eyed?"
"No, because he's really heavy"

Apparently, 1 in 5 people in the world are Chinese. And there are 5 people in my family, so it must be one of them. It's either my mum or my dad...or maybe my older brother Colin. Or my younger brother Ho-Cha Chu. But I'm pretty sure it's Colin.

I went to buy some camouflage trousers the other day but I couldn't find any.

I went to the butchers the other day and I bet him $50 that he couldn't reach the meat off the top shelf. He said, 'no, the steaks are too high.'

My friend drowned in a bowl of muesli. He was pulled in by a strong currant.

I went to a seafood disco rave last week.... and pulled a mussel.

What do you call a fish with no eyes? A fsh.

Two fish swim into a concrete wall. One turns to the other and says "dam"

Two fish are in a tank. One says to the other "I'll man the guns, you drive"

When You're Longing For The Caveman Of Your Dreams

Wow, finally the Alpha Male debate gets into high gear, as the BBC reports women on the pill (Alpha Females, perhaps?) like the Fred Flintstone type while on the pill and go for the sensitive poet when off ... or something. Thanks to Brian for the link.

Boys Don't Cry: Shame

Perhaps I'm taking a walk on the other side of the Alpha Male moon here today. I came across this book on Amazon while I was looking for titles by Terence Real (a great writer and psychologist Rageboy turned me onto.)

Alon Gratch's book called If Men Could Talk caught my eye and I sure love Amazon's killer app: LOOK INSIDE.

Gratch says the Number 1 Reason men have so much trouble communicating their feelings is Shame. Take a look inside at his writing, it's interesting. Reserve the right to COMPLETELY DISAGREE with it and me. And read my post at the bottom of this page about the futility of defining men, at all, in any way whatsoever.

I Don't Know What I Feel: Emotional Absence

Again, Alon Gratch seems to be hitting the nail on the head here. We spend so much time telling little boys NOT TO FEEL ANYTHING, is it a surprise they grow up into men who aren't sure how they feel? Especially when feeling can be considered so weak and a waste of time. Don't feel (we tell boys), just do!

This is the Number Two reason men have so much trouble communicating, according to his in book, If Men Could Talk.

I'm Tired Of Being On Top: Insecurity

The Number 3 reason men find it hard to communicate -- so much pressure to be on top, to have it together, to be the big man (shall I dare say, the Alpha Male?) and the insecurity this can cause.

Now, wait a second, I kinda LIKE being on top. But that's a whole other story.

See Me, Hear Me, Touch Me, Feel Me: Self-Involvement

Hey, hey, I didn't say men are self-involved, I swear. I mean I have had a few drinks in a few lovely lounges with a few men who take the first 50 minutes of an hour telling me all about how great they are and then serve up the classic, "So tell me, how do you feel ... about me, that is."

Just teasing. This is Reason Number 4 Alon Gratch says men have trouble really communicating in his book If Men Could Talk. I don't know Alon, haven't read his book, but I think he's got some interesting things to say.

I'll Show You Who's Boss: Aggression

In his book If Men Could Talk, Alon Gratch says Aggression is the number 5 reason men have so much trouble communicating their feelings. Ask any wife. Something about that, "I'll show you who's boss" thing at home that really gets the frying pan flying towards the male cranium.

I'm Such A Loser: Self-Destructiveness

Number Six from If Men Could Talk. Alon Gratch is eloquent on how you can shoot yourself in the foot, so to speak.

He worked as a psychologist with the NYPD early in his career and tells a fascinating story about removing police officer's guns from cops who were considered suicidal. Needless to say, removing their gun was according to him "tantamount to public castration" and often pushed a patient closer to suicide.

I Want Sex Now: Sexual Acting-Out

Number Seven on Alon Gratch's list of the seven male attributes that make it so hard for men to talk about their feelings. His book If Men Could Talk is pretty interesting. He writes about sex in a very interesting way. He figures most sex is not about sex. Remind me, when is a cigar only a cigar?

Needless to say, though this might be interesting, I figure no book exists that will ever explain the wonderful, crazy, sexy, charming, powerful, mysterious thing known as "a man."

Only The Lonely Know The Way I Feel Tonight

I thought about this last night for a long time. I think all of us are a lot more lonely than we fess up to. Blogging is helping bridge that gap as families fall apart, re-form, change, or stagnate. I know I can get so damned lonely. And I really appreciate my friends who pull me out of it. Thanks.

Strangely, when I talk about why I decided to get divorced, I often say it was because I felt so lonely in my marriage, which I did and it is not uncommon. You can find yourself living in a world populated by many living, breathing, live-action, real people but feel rather like your walking through a cemetary of stone monuments for all the life they give off. Again, I don't blame any other parties -- I was dead in my skin too -- but you have to wonder sometimes how it can get that way. When and where does the rigor mortis start? What does it mean to be alive?

Hey Si, As Time Goes By

The fundemental things apply, Si. But you know I've been getting a lot of email from guys your age and up to about 30 who are BIG TIME disagreeing with me and I'm going to blog about that soon. I like what they have to say. They don't think all these games need to go on. I'll send you a questionnaire on this, you can fill in a form for me -- need your input. Thanks for blogging me:

Halley's recent posts on Alpha Maledom have stirred mixed feelings in me. First, the exposure of trade secrets is somewhat unsettling; second, I have a deep-seated urge to find, hunt down and kill the informers; and third, I NEED to direct about half of my friends to read this stuff so they can stop pestering ME. Now if Halley can get up some posts about Alpha Females to take care of the other half...

Poem: Is Yonder The Man?

We fall
again and again
for the wrong him,
for the wrong her,
like As You Like It,
and try to right our wrongs,
by thinking our way through
and turning our backs on a longing heart.

We believe
again and again
that we can contain
a feral love,
like an unruly toddler in a playpen
but our hearts break free,
leaving all asunder,
seeking the soulful source of their delight.

We know
again and again
that if all we have is love,
it's all we need have.
It's all we've come here for
and we should bow before it,
but don't -- so instead,
we are brought to our knees by it.

We pretend
again and again
that we have some say,
that we are the masters and mistresses
of our love's mastery,
but learn we are merely players
in this comedy of haphazard hearts.

Bed & Absolutely Terrific Breakfast

We lucked in with a last minute cancellation near Ascutney, VT where we like to ski. The Millbrook is run by Kay who is just about the best cook I've ever run into. The breakfasts were out of this world -- homemade bread, rolls, pastry, terrific omelettes, eggs, home-made apple sauce, maple butter, on and on and on I could go. Even better at 4:30 when you're done skiing she makes these great soups and other treats -- minestrone w/grated parmesan yesterday, and homemade pizza -- and chile with salsa, onions, cheese, chips the day before.

Honestly, I'd gotten really sick of bed & breakfasts and don't visit many, but with "no room at the inn" in most places for this weekend, it was just a fluke we ended up there and IT WAS TERRIFIC.

Just looked at the title. The bed was great too -- a very comfortable king-sized bed in a romantic and pretty room -- which I shared with my 7-year-old son. How can one kid take up so much of one bed? Another family came with us with their 7-year-old boy as well and took an adjoining room. Remind me, are there any 7-year-old boys in the world who think it might be a good idea to CLOSE THE DOOR behind them, or do they all leave the door hanging wide open so the parents are on display while parading around in various pieces of half on-half off ski long johns?

BTW, Ascutney is a great place to learn to ski or take kids to. I only started skiing LAST YEAR and thanks to my son pushing me to keep at it, I'm getting pretty good.

The Unexamined Life Is Like Totally Not Worth Living

I see Scoble has jumped on the Alpha Male bandwagon with MUCH MORE HELPFUL ADVICE to women who want to get an Alpha Male than I offered here a few days back. I was particularly interested in point number 2, especially his invocation to "Know Thyself."
.

2) Know yourself and what pleases you. There's nothing as dull as a woman who says "I have never masturbated." (And you know Alpha males will eventually get around to asking such personal and prying questions). First off, she's probably lying (alpha males really don't have time for liars or people who play games). Second off, how can you know how to please an alpha male if you don't even know how to please yourself?

Get with it girls. Needless to say, all the really excellent links to good vibrations and other such sites can be found at www.rageboy.com.

Try 22 Degrees Below Zero

Back from skiing in Vermont. Okay, I rushed off Friday, not bothering to check out a certain key piece of data -- the weather report.

On the way up, I'm noticing a lot of ice on the car windshield. My son's in the back seat doing the kind of things 7-year-old boys like to do, drawing on the window, but it's making a slightly weird noise. Like he's scraping through ice to engrave a message for me. The heater's on full blast, the heat of our bodies is keeping us warm and then I suddenly GET IT -- it's not ice just on the OUTSIDE of the window -- there's also a lot of ice on the INSIDE of the window. I think, "Hmm, must be pretty cold out."

We get to our bed & breakfast late Friday night. We get out of the car. "Hmmm," says I, "it's a little chilly." Chilly like you breathe in and you feel like your lungs are getting cryogenically preserved for the next 1000 years or so. Hey, I figure, it's Vermont, it's supposed to be cold up here.

Next morning, I try to start the car to head over to the ski rental joint. VERY SCARY NOISE. I have never heard my car make such a noise -- rather like an animal shuttering and begging not to leave the barn. I think "Damn, now my car's falling apart." I have to warm it up a long time.

Get over to the rental place early -- hate the lines. Weirdly, there is NO ONE there. The local boys in those wool jesters hats are teasing one another about not even bothering skiing today. I ask them what's up. They look at me like I've arrived from Mars -- "Lady, it's 22 below zero." Aha!

Did we ski? You betcha.

Alpha Male: Lesson 8: How To Get An Alpha Male

My email box is full of requests from women asking how to get an Alpha Male. I knew sooner or later I'd have to let all these women in on the secret.

I went directly to the source and polled some seriously Alpha-ish Alpha Males. They all said the same thing.

And I quote, "You don't get an Alpha Male, they GET YOU."

Dark Pink

Dusty rose and dark pink are two of my favorite shades, but learning that Dan Pink's weblog has gone dark is NOT one of my favorite things. I just hate it when that kind of thing happens. Dan, what up?!?

Catch Me If You Can

Go see this movie if you haven't because I'm going to write about it vis-a-vis Alpha Males and you NEED to see it. It's a great movie.

Johnson & Johnson's Baby Powder Snow

Yes, more snow today. I'm calling this one J&J Baby Powder Snow. I like it very very much, since I'm heading out for the weekend to go skiing.

You're NOT reading Corante?!?! Go on!

Corante has such great coverage of technology and lately has been the place to be when it comes to the Lessig story, thanks to Donna Wentworth's excellent Copyfight blog. But Hylton Jolliffe who runs Corante also does a great column on blogging anyone in the know, should know. And of course, Rageboy (aka Chris Locke) writes there too in his cool Ad Hominem blog.

How To Become An Alpha Male: Lesson 7: "Such A Pretty, Pretty Girl"

I really shouldn't even have to say this, but I will. There's one major differentiator when it comes to Alpha and not-so-Alpha Males. It's so simple. It's so easy. And unfortunately, it's so rare. Alpha Males may do terrible things -- they may cheat on their wives AND cheat on their girlfriends AND cheat on their taxes -- but they sure get one thing right. They make women feel beautiful. And how do they do that? Oh, here's the big secret ... they say to their women, "You look beautiful."

Now you would think it would be obvious, but from what I've seen it's obviously a mystery to most men. They rarely come out and simply say it. And I can tell you most women want to hear it. In fact, you wouldn't go too far wrong by saying it twice, even in the same week! I know this is shocking, but it's true.

Not only do they say "You look beautiful" even if the woman they are saying it to is not looking perfectly beautiful, but they also know how much a woman wants to hear, "You are such a pretty, pretty girl." Corny? Oh, yeah. Wonderful to hear? OH YEAH!.

In fact, it's like a little bank account they fill up with gold coins every time they say that kind of thing and then when they do a boneheaded thing and are most decidedly in the doghouse, that little bank account buys they a lot of "Get Out Of Jail or The Doghouse Free" cards.

And even when they're talking sexy and kinda dirty to their women, they remember not to go too far with that kind of talk and they always come back to making their women feel pretty. They say stuff like "you look like the prettiest flower girl at your big sister's wedding." And I know you may be gagging, but it sure beats, "Wanna fuck?!" And the worst part is how often men forget to say this kind of thing.

It's another secret a male friend of mine calls a safe secret, because even if you printed it up on billboards and posted all over the city, only a few men who "get" women will actually do it. And I can tell you, that once a woman gets the feeling that she looks beautiful to a certain man -- she always wants to get close to that man. It just feels too good to resist.

How To Become An Alpha Male, Lesson 6: Alpha Males Have Things

I have an argument with my 7-year-old son nearly every school morning, without fail, at about 3 minutes before the bus is about to arrive and we have tear out of the house. He's dressed, he has his coat on, he has his backpack full of everything I figure he needs for the day. But no. We stop dead in our tracks with NO TIME to waste,he insists he must take something to school to "share." This sharing routine is about to kill me. We miss the bus over it on a regular basis. Or we have screaming matches for all the neighbors to hear as we rush to catch the bus, him dragging a heavy yellow metal bulldozer to take to school I beg him, "please, if you need to take something to school to share, put it in your bag first thing in the morning, or even better, how about the night before?" That never happens. So there is something absolutely drop-dead important about having a thing to take to school. "Sharing" has replaced "Show and Tell" and I miss what the heck the nuance of language is about, but it's some wacky political correctness to keep the kids from "Showing Off and Telling" I think.

The point is, even at seven years old, my son has figured out a basic rule of Alpha Malehood -- Alpha Males Have Things. They have cool things to show to girls. They have Hot Wheels, or candy bars, or GI Joes or Pokemon cards they drag around with them to show girls. Later when they grow up, the Hot Wheels turn into real wheels, the candy bars are dinner at a fancy restaurant in town and the GI Joes and Pokemon cards are any variety of cool things women want to look at, including beach houses on the Cape, trophys from tennis games, mooseheads in cabins, or even your classic girl-getter, etchings. They have things and know how to say, "Hey, you've got to come over and see my _______. (fill in the blank with WHATEVER! )

The ancient joke about "would you like to come up and see my etchings" is based on this fact. It's always good to have things to show girls. If you can lure them into your room, apartment, house, mansion, castle or cave to look at something -- guess what -- they are standing there next to you looking at something. With any luck and a little sleight of hand, you can get them to stop looking at the thing you invited them to look at and LOOK AT YOU. And then, if they look at you and they like what they see, and you have any shred of Alpha Male instinct, and some good Brazilian background music by Joao Gilberto, or Barry White will do as well, you might actually get them to look at a thing that you have, that they don't have. They may tell you otherwise, but most of them want to look at your thing.

So I always think of some early Alpha Male caveman trying to come up with some THING to show his Wilma Flintstone counterpart. He probably tried a lot of things that didn't work, like a tuft of grass -- boring, boring, boring -- or some water. A little more interesting but no great shakes. So then, at his wit's end, he looks over and she's at the door of the cave watching Eohippus gallop by (the dawn horse, of course) and he thinks, "Well, shit! Here I am showing her a handful of water and she wants to look that pathetic Eohippus. How the hell am I supposed to get her over here to stand next me, so I can smell her and she can smell me, and then we can fuck, when all she wants to do is look at that stupid animal?!"

It hits him out of the blue and he grabs some old charcoal from last night.s meat roasting fire and draws a pretty lousy picture of a running horse on the cave wall. And then he's got a pointy stick to show her -- now that's a cool thing -- and a picture. Now he's getting somewhere. And she comes over to see the thing he made. And she likes it and likes the fact that he noticed she was watching the horse out the cave door and understood that he could please her by drawing the horse for her. Maybe, she reasons, as cavewomen were rather savvy I must say, maybe he could please me in other ways. Hell, she thinks, maybe he'd show me that other thing of his. So she stops looking at his etching and turns to look at him ... (and get ready kids, since the two of them are about to start history as we know it).. and she smiles at him and one thing leads to another.

Larry Lessig In Deep Thought

With many other bloggers today, I'm really sorry to read these words on Professor Lessig's blog: "The Supreme Court rejected our challenge to the Sonny Bono law." I'm sorry for him and sorry for us. But as usual, I wanted to write about another angle to the Lessig story.

I've long been absolutely transfixed by the picture of Professor Lessig on his blog. I love that picture. Deep in thought, working like hell to get the words out on the net, pensive, focused, serious. It's just about the most perfect picture of someone in the act of blogging I've ever seen. It gives us something to which we should all aspire, dedicated thought and communication.

Professor Lessig actually reminds me of Betty Grable -- that quintessential pose of the pretty girl with the million dollar legs that every GI had tacked up in his barracks. A photograph with a perfect essence, a perfect expression of a certain time and place. I don't mean anything racy here. I just mean that the picture of Lessig is the perfect knowledge worker pin-up photo.

So thank you for all your hard work and please roll with the punches today, Professor Lessig. With a millon dollar furrowed brow like that, we know you'll be back to win another day!

Our Man Si Is Back

Okay, I rarely yank anyone from my blogroll over there on the left column, EXCEPT I admit I did delete Si Adam when he stopped writing and I wanted to get his attention and make him start writing again. Si is AKMA's son and a good writer and I am happy to mention is BACK.

"Did James Bond Have A Lizard?"

My son is in my office here at home reading the new James Bond reference work I just got and asks me "Did James Bond Have A Lizard?" I made broiled salmon for dinner, but he talked me out of it and so I made tuna fish for him instead. In fact, I made two excellent tuna fish sandwiches, he even convinced me to eat tuna and put the salmon away for tomorrow. My secret is Apple Cider Vinegar to give it a kick. We're just hanging out avoiding doing his homework. I look at the book -- it's an iguana, and it belongs to Franz Sanchez, the South American drug trafficker in License to Kill. It wears a diamond collar. And you thought I just wrote about James Bond without doing rigorous and substantive research? No way.

I ask him to read the name of the book, since he's getting to be a great new reader, "James Bond, The Secret World of Zero Zero Seven" he says. No, I correct, he's called "double O seven" These important things must be taught at home.

I Just Hit A Dog

On the way home from work on a skinny dark Lexington road called Hancock near Edgemont (better suited to revolutionary war horses and buggies it's so narrow), a dog ran right in front of my car and I tried ot miss him, but I hit him with a big terrible THUNK noise. The road was packed, I couldn't find a place to pull over safely or easily, so pulled into the next driveway, ran back to see what happened to the dog. I don't have a dog and for some reason in my head I was thinking, "What you do when you hit a dog?" and then I was hearing in my head, "People love their dogs. People really love their dogs." Running back in piles of icy snow wasn't easy and it was so dark, I couldn't see the dog anywhere -- I figured he was lying in the middle of the road dead -- not safe for the other cars either.

And then I see him and I'm dreading even looking -- but what I see is him semi-trotting and swerving around cars and making them hit the brakes -- which is even more dangerous -- and then I whistle for him and he comes over and looks at me with a quizzical look and I check him over and he doesn't seem to be very hurt at all. This is sure confusing. Another local neighbor lady pulls and says, "he lives over there." And I hear myself say, "he got hit" and then realize no, that sounds like someone else did it. And so I say, "I mean, I hit him," which makes me feel sick to my stomach. We call the police and by then, he's run off to the other side of the road and she follows him as I wait for the police. They are pleasant and send a car asap and now the dog has disappeared of course, but the car lady comes back and tells ran home on his own, so he can't be too hurt. I give the police my name and number. Then realize I have 3 minutes to get my son at daycare without being late, so take off and hope the dog and his owner are okay.

Alpha Males Round-up: Lessons 1-6 Links

I keep getting requests for the links to the earlier blog posts of Chapters 1 - 3 of my "How To Become An Alpha Male in 18 Easy Lessons" series, so here are all the links so far:

Lesson One: Getting It -- January 3, 2003

Lesson Two: Giving It -- January 4, 2003

Lesson Three: Why Alpha Males Get Pussy Galore -- January 5, 2003

Lesson Four: Stag Films -- January 7, 2003

Lesson Five: Confidence Game -- January 12, 2003

Lesson Six: Alpha Males Have Things--January 15, 2003

Lesson Seven: "Pretty, Pretty, Girl" --January 15, 2003

Doc Woos And Wins Me

Doc wrote the sweetest stuff over at his blog about my one-year birthday. Especially great is his Alpha Female manifesto. I'm heading that direction, getting ready to write about Alpha Females and all the great stuff they do.

Play Ball!

With all this cold weather and 15-foot high piles of dirty snow in most parking lots, I just can't help fantasizing about Fenway. It will be here sooner than we know. Look at this lovely green wedge of grass!

Check out the schedule. I can taste the hotdogs and the watery beer on a lovely May afternoon when they take on the New York Yankees. We're gonna kill you guys!

Alpha Males Have Beer Wenches

Yes, we know Alpha Males have it all, but the really Alpha-alpha Males have their own beer wenches so they don't have to go to the concession stand at the cricket matches, as reported here! Credit where credit is due, an email friend pointed out this story from Conrad's cool blog called Gweilo Diaries. Leave it to the Aussies to be doing breakthrough reseach in Alpha Male innovation.

This would be extremely popular at Fenway Park. Hey, maybe I could start a whole new business. Calling all Venture Capitalists -- come on guys, give me a few million dollars and you can help me select members of my wenching staff. I'm 100% behind John Doerr's belief that it's all about building an expert team.

[Feminists, don't gag. There will be more coming for you soon. I'm getting sick of this too.]

Xtreme Selling

Gary Turner, Xtremely funny man in the UK, sent along an email after reading my Alpha Male piece about Confidence Men, mentioning a post he did a while back on testosterone-crazed salesmen. Gotta share it -- here's the link or read below:.

[Note: After discussing Xtreme Skiing and other high risk sports, Gary says] ... Well, I think we should adopt similar approaches to everyday working life. For example Extreme Selling. You can start off gently simply by turning up late to critical meetings with your best customer or just start wearing scruffy, unpolished shoes and continue the process by breaking some more of the classic rules a successful salesman should never break and work up slowly. Congratulations, you have just begun to extreme sell.

After some practice you should be confident that you're still able to get the deals at this basic level and then it's time to crank it up to the max extreeeeeeme selling ....walk in to your customer's office and put your feet up on his desk, be verbally abusive to his staff, double your quote then say in a high pitched alien like voice "Oh sorry I appear to have gotten my figures wrong", then double it again, telling the customer you "don't need his fucking lowlife business anyway", put only the words "KISS MY ASS" on your business cards, every time you email a quote to him attach a sickening porno photograph with your customer's head crudely transplanted onto one (or both) of the participants in the scene, sit in his office and put your fingers in your ears whilst shouting "la la la la I'm not listening" whenever the customer attempts to speak, pick up his desk photos and blurt out that you'd like to "do his wife because she's so damn hot", generously sprinkle cocaine into your coffee in front of him, do greatly exaggerated impersonations of the customer and repeat every sentence he says, take a leak in his fishtank and kill his expensive fish, during the meeting take a call from your Ho in which you say "Yeah baby, just let me get finished with this fuckhead and I'll be right over to wack him, no way is he movin in on my street" and if after all that, if against all the odds you're a good enough salesman to still get the deal signed - congratulations, you have just become an Extreme Salesman.

And do not miss what he did today on The Support Economy.

Awash In Business Books

Yes, they're all over the carpet of my boudoir, it's a dirty little habit ... silken corsets or sexy thigh high stockings? No, no, no. Perhaps you imagined something else entirely? No, I'm talking about business books. That's what turns this girl on.

I'm finishing The Wealth of Knowledge by Thomas A. Stewart, just got The The Support Economy: Why Corporations are Failing Individuals and The Next Episode of Capitalism by Shoshana Zuboff and James Maxmin, also snagged Who Says Elephants Can't Dance? by Lou Gerstner and homework i should have done a year ago, Execution, The Discipline of Getting Things Done (you can see how much I need this) by Larry Bossidy and Ram Charan.

Case In Point

So what's AOL without Steve Case? Hard to imagine.

How To Become An Alpha Male: Lesson 5: Confidence Game

One of the unforeseen pleasures of writing this series of 18 chapters on Alpha Malehood is the barrage of email I'm getting full of Alpha Male inside info, not to mention guys just walking up to me to tell me their Alpha Male secrets. First, of course, they tell me that no woman should know as much as I do about Alpha Males and I will piss a lot of guys off if I act like a know-it-all on the subject. I instantly explain that in fact, I know nothing, and make no claims to giving advice, but simply have very good sources -- a cadre of "deep throat" type informants -- who know the knowledge needs to get out. They seem all right with this. Then, after telling me that they should NOT divulge their secrets about Alpha Males, they come around some how or another, to sharing another wickedly delightful insight with me. So let me just say, this is much appreciated and please feel free to keep me in on the game.

After taking a few days off to collect my thoughts and try to pick out the next most important subject, I've hit on the subject of confidence. If there is one thing they have in spades, it's sheer, unmitigated, unflappable, nearly arrogant, but simply deliciously masculine Confidence. And they know how to use it. And they know it works. And they know it is an incredible turn-on.

A new friend on email mentioned how many salesmen are Alpha Males and this got me thinking as well. Something they teach you in sales is to "assume the sale." This is especially important with women. Assume she wants to kiss you. Assume she wants to fuck you. Assume you will eventually wear down her high morals and you will get her into bed one of these days. Good salemen assume the sale. They don't have time to doubt their success. They have rock hard confidence. My emailer complained that many of them are so arrogant that surely this did not attract women, but rather women found it replusive. Well, yes, some are just too full of themselves, but even those win more often than they lose.

Confidence is very attractive. It's even amusing. It makes you grin to watch some of these guys. Here's how the really good ones operate. Like all true artists they know that nothing is as successful as mixing extremes. They mix up the big boy slightly-arrogant confidence with surprising bursts of charming little boy shyness and "whoops, I blew it" contriteness. This gets the girl every time, though I think it mostly works because it leaves women completely confused and disarmed. Once you get a woman that off balance, if you have confidence and have assumed the sale all along, you make short work of your prey.

Being confident is incredibly sexy. Being confident is incredibly powerful. Being confident is essentially "efficient" -- it just makes everyone go along with you and saves you time. Don't bother spending a minute doubting yourself. What the hell is that about? There are enough enemies, critics, naysayers and pessimists all around you to take care of doubting you. Why the hell would you waste time doubting YOU TOO? Again, I preach to the converted. You guys know this.

The world is a pretty frightening place. Somehow or other, we get up in the morning believing we can manage to make it through the day. These days there's ample evidence against that notion. This is what's wonderful about men -- they challenge this world view with sheer testosterone and after-shave. They have courage. They have balls. They straighten their ties and get on with it. What Alpha Males know is that everyone needs to feel confidence and that it begins with them. They know their confidence is a gift. They share it with others. It makes it a much better world to live in. It's a confidence game.

The Name is James .... James Bond

A new friend, Ole, from the West Coast writes about a key feature of the Alpha Male I'm can't wait to discuss -- sheer unmitigated unflappable CONFIDENCE. He reports on watching James Bond in action.

> I watched GoldenEye last night.
> Exhibit A of Alpha Maleness.
> I especially liked the part where he
> straightens his tie
> after running his tank over three police cars.

Way to go James. Way to go Ole, thanks for this.

Blogspot Ban In China

Leave it to China to show us how politically radical blogging really is. Check out Dave Winer's coverage of this amazing story.

What A Beautiful Pussy You Are

Well, per usual, over at Gonzo Engaged, the blog that answers the question "Can you ever get enough of the teachings of Chris Locke?!" with an emphatic "Oh, no, never!" they have been beating me to the punch. Marek my Polish Alpha Male Love Slave has reproduced my favorite Edward Lear poem, The Owl And The Pussycat, with a few variations.

What Marek doesn't know is that as a young girl, I was actually given a gift of a 3 foot long wooden pea-green boat, complete with stuffed animal Owl and Pussycat, a little jar of honey tucked into the bow, a little golden sack of chocolate money stowed away in the stern, not to mention a pea-green book of Edward Lear poems. This is a favorite poem of mine, but what with the language now sounding nearly pornographic, you barely hear it anymore. Another book that's fallen by the wayside since modern slang has rendered it slightly off-color is the classic, "Our Hearts Were Young and Gay" to which you can't help saying, "Oh, yeah?!" I reproduce the poem unadulterated below. Any Alpha Male who's in the mood to dine "on mince and slices of quince" which we can eat "with a runcible spoon" should drop me a note, beats dinner at Legal Seafoods any time. I'm even willing to recite the poem which I know by heart, while we dance hand in hand by the edge of the sand, but so as not to disappoint, I warn you up front I do not own a small guitar, but then again, what self-respecting Alpha Male can't get his hands on a small guitar to bring to the party? I leave that to him.

The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea-green boat:
They took some honey,
and plenty of money
Wrapped up in a five-pound note.

The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
"O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!"
Contemporary Illustrator: Donna L. Derstine

Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant fowl,
How charmingly sweet you sing!
Oh! let us be married;
too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?"
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the bong-tree grows;
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood,
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

"Dear Pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?" Said the Piggy, "I will."
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;

And hand in hand on the edge of the sand
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon.

Live Action Girls Boys Peapods!

Yep, you've got live blogging going on here. Check it out -- we're at lunch and blogging every god damned word -- NOT really! They're all ordering and I'm going to go hungry. Better give Dan Bricklin his wifi machine back. Here's the pix.

We just called Dave Winer in 650 land to say hi and congrats. Hylton Joliffe just rolled in. More later

Back to my office, so here's a quick update NOT in media res. How bad can lunch be with me and nine brilliant male bloggers! ? It was so much fun. Wayne Becker, Dan Bricklin, Bob Frankston, Steve Himmer, Hylton Joliffe, John Robb, Brian Runk, David Weinberger and Steve Yost. By now, they've probably posted a bunch of pix on their sites, so go check them out!

It Was 30 Years Ago Today

Sargent Pepper taught the band to play. No, wait, I mean, it was ONE year ago today I started blogging -- mostly due to David Weinberger's pushy insistent prodding. Thanks David. Of course, it all started with cars and girls -- thunderbirds and Brittney!

Crimson Blogging

Like Doc and David, I'm thrilled to hear Dave Winer will be a Berkman Fellow at Harvard Law School's amazingly creative Berkman Center for Internet & Society. As big a win as this is for Dave Winer, I think it's even bigger for Harvard, as he will bring his expertise, imagination and vision to the entire univerisity, building new interdepartmental and intra-collegiate killer apps that few of us can conceive of at this point.

Under the radically innovative leadership of Charles Nesson, John Palfrey, Jonathan Zittrain, Diane Cabell and Donna Wentworth*, this partnership will be something awesome to behold. During the weekend in October that Berkman was sponsoring the Digital Identity @ Harvard Conference I kept thinking, "Boy, Dave should be here, he'd love this and they need him." Glad to see that it actually happened.

Dave, the Boston bloggers will miss you today at lunch, but we now reserve an honorary chair for you at all Boston blogging events. Don't forget Route 128 is America's Technology Highway! Welcome!

[*BTW, I'm only mentioning the Berkman folks I've met in person, I know the rest of the group is equally excellent, just don't know them first-hand.]

Halleyversary Of My Blog

My sweet little blog is one year old tomorrow. I'm putting a pink bow in her hair and making her wear her pinchy Mary Jane's to a party. She's only one, but she can already walk. And, boy can she talk -- she never shuts up.

So anyway ... did I blog this already ... I'm having a crazy week and I can't remember what I've done and not done. So if I already mentioned it, sorry, but if not, here goes.

David Weinberger of JOHO fame is hosting a lunch for Halley's Comment's One Year Birthday, tomorrow Friday, January 10th at 12:00 noon in Harvard Square at that landmark restaurant, Yenching Chinese. The lunch special is $5.95 and you get an egg roll too. David will be there at 12:15. I'll be there at 11:45, trying to guess how big a table we'll need. RSVP me by email if you plan to be there.

A Lexicon of Snow

A new friend emails me with lovely snow news. Brian tells me about his term "whisper snow" and listen to what he says. [Needless to say, I could kill him, as he's now claimed the best snow name so far.]

> > Still snowing up here on the North Shore as well,
> > although it sounds a
> > damn sight prettier than it does downtown.
> > Up here we have what I'd call "whisper snow" since
> > that's the sound it
> > makes falling through the already snow-encrusted
> > trees. This stuff is
> > so tiny you can't see it, just feel its caress as it
> > falls past.

He suggests I just go ahead and write a full LEXICON OF SNOW, this after mentioning that we can probably expect a solid four (Oh no! Say it ain't so!) more months of snow. Brian, you're just trying to scare me and it's working!!! I guess I'll just have to give these Inuits a run for their money. Here's the list so far:

Boa Snow -- Very dry snow with the light and fluffy texture of a feather boa. Sexy and frothy, but dangerously chilly around your neck. While feather boas are best worn with no additional clothing, this snow is not.

Madison Avenue Slush Snow -- As defined below, this diabolical snow, native to New York, is a mixture of 1/2 snow, 1/2 water and 1/2 filthy city dirt. When you're at the corner of Madison and 92nd, you step off into what looks like a grey milkshake of 1" depth, but it's above your ankle before you can escape the excruciatingly icy cold, dirty water soaking your socks. [Brian adds that when you take off your sock, the blue dye in your sock has stained your shrivelled foot an alarming color and you will be tempted to rush to the nearest emergency room with self-diagnosed frostbite.]

Mink Coat Snow -- Slightly damp snow with great velvety, clinging ability. This snow coats the trees like fur coats but does not keep anyone warm.

Shellac Snow -- Start with a heavy, slightly wet snow, then season with a wickedly cold night to create a crunchy plastic layer on top of thick ice. Sheer hell to remove from a car. Plan on being at least a half-hour late to work on shellac snow morningsOn second thought, to hell with work. Go back to bed and take that neighbor with you, the one making lackluster attempts to dig out his/her car while giving you sideways glances in your Dr. Zhivago hat.

Sod Snow -- Much fun for the kids, this is a heavy wet snow, perfect for rolling your own snowman. You can roll up big swaths of it off your lawn, it leaves the green grass showing, as it sucks up everything in its path. Achtung, baby, as trying to move or lift these heavy wet sod snow boulders can result in an instant hernia.

Whisper Snow -- Per Brian, snow so stealthy, the sound it makes falling through the already snow-encrusted trees is nearly imperceptible. This stuff is so tiny you can't see it, just feel its caress as it falls past.

More snow and 18 more snow words

Yes, we had more snow again. And this one I'm calling %@"?#@#$% snow because I'm getting pretty darned sick of it. No, now Halley, control yourself. This snow actually has a name too. It's gotten warmer so it's the consistency of 1/2 snow and 1/2 water. I call it "Madison Avenue Slush Snow", you know the kind -- you're on a corner in New York City, you step off into what looks like a grey milkshake of 1" depth, except it's a clogged drain and it's above your ankle before you realize and you start swearing a blue streak as excruciatingly icy dirty water soaks your socks.

I've gotten a link from a new email friend, Stu Savory, who points me to his list of actual Inuit snow words. I appreciate this very much, but I still like my snow names better.

Alpha Advice

I've been getting a lot of terrific advice since I started writing these 18 easy lessons, from a host of worldwide Alpha Males by email. I may excerpt some bits and snatches after asking the authors for permission. One Alpha asks WHO are my original advisors on all things alpha-male-ish, since he finds what I'm saying is right on and wonders how a woman can so "get it." Well, I'm afraid I can't divulge those secret sources.

Meanwhile, a nice young woman wrote me by email saying she doesn't want to keep reading about how to become an Alpha Male, rather would like to know how to GET one. She asks, "Do you have to be drop dead gorgeous?" I'm not and I don't think you have to be, but of course, it helps. I'll noodle that one around for a while and get back to you. Keep those cards and letters coming!

Fur and Feathers

I can't believe we're getting MORE new snow. It never seems to end. It's snowed nearly every day since Christmas. Yesterday, I had to scrape the car in the morning because of new snow, but ALSO had to scrape and dig the car out at the end of the day! Once a day is bad enough but twice! This is really crazy.

Like the alleged eskimos, (opps, I mean "inuits" if I'm going to be politically correct) I'm beginning to have 300 words for snow. There is a funny light and flaky snow this morning that reminds me of feathers -- easy to dust off, but whimsical -- I'll call it "boa snow". It's sexy and frothy. A few days ago we had the furry snow that coats the trees like velvet, I'll call it "mink coat snow". Last week we had that "shellac snow" -- thick with a crust of icy plastic on top -- which makes removal almost impossible. The week before we had a heavy wet snow that rolls into an awesome snow man. You roll up big swaths of it off the lawn and it leaves the green grass showing as it sucks up everything in its path -- I call it "sod snow" .

Please, enough of the snow naming, enough of the winter wonderland, let's go with a spring wonderland, whattya say?

Alpha Male: Lesson 4: Stag Films

First of all, go to the video store and casually saunter over to that section where all Alpha Males must eventually go to test their manhood; and don't bring any wives, girlfriends or any other women with you. You have to go it alone on this. Don't be shy, reach up for that stag film of all stag films and take it off the shelf with a confident hand, no trembling please. Check out the front, turn it over and check out the back. The title will appear in big bold letters and yes, other alpha males may spot you as you eye it, it will read, "BAMBI." Okay, now reach for the next one, "BEAUTY AND THE BEAST" and last but not least, "MULAN".

Shocked? You may well be. But now you know the truth. To become a real Alpha Male, one must study the teachings of Walt Disney. Everything you need is in that section.

Let's start with Bambi. If you want to see stags fight for status, this is your movie. If you want to see deer fight for the prettiest doe in the room, again, this is your movie. If you wonder why the heck they called a boy deer "Bambi" well, I have no frigging idea. Still, apart from the name problem, this movie will teach you how to be king of the forest. It's easy and oh-so-Freudian, just kill your dad or any father-substitute hanging around, who might be keeping you from running the joint.

Once you've got the lessons of Bambi under your belt, check out Beauty and The Beast. So now we have the prettiest girl in town, Belle, willing to go live with one mean, hairy ugly beast up in his fancy house on the hill. The best looking guy in town, Gaston, a mega-arrogant French Alpha Male can not seem to turn Belle's head. What's going on?! This is paradoxical to say the least. But here we are in an advanced post-grad course on Alpha Malehood. This movie lays out a very fundamental and encouraging Alpha Male secret -- that Alpha Malehood is an equal opportunity employer. You do NOT have to be the sexy Frenchman to get the girl. In fact, a lot of Alpha Males are a little bit like the beast -- a little rough-and-tumble, the kind of guys girls love to tame and take care of. Girls hate guys who spend more time in the mirror looking at themselves than looking at them. This is Gaston's problem. Also, the beast NEEDS something. He needs Belle's help to tame his beastliness and show his sweet side. This too is appealing for a lot of women. And of course, the Beast is sexy and wild. Always better to be a sexy beast than a French poodle. And he does have a great house.

Once you've made it through those two movies, check out Mulan. The story is simple. When the Emperor of China calls all men to join the army, Mulan runs off with her father's conscription papers to take his place since he has a bad leg and can barely walk. Disguising herself as a man, she has the help of a tiny red dragon, Mushu, in the voice of Eddie Murphy, to teach her how to be a military Alpha Male. Mushu spares no details including back-slapping, belching, passing gas and all other essential male skills. It's a funny movie, until the men figure out that they have this female traitor in their midst, then all hell breaks loose.

Seriously, if you haven't seen it, Mulan says great things about men -- about their strength, their courage, their mysterious deep sexuality. At boot camp as she tries to keep up, the Alpha Male in charge, Li Shang, kicks her ass and is so tough on her, he nearly breaks her. In the end, she falls in love with him and he with her. The song I'll Make a Man Out of You that plays behind a fast-moving animated montage of basic training exercises, (very An Officer And A Gentleman in style) catalogues some of the best things about Alpha Males, "We must be swift as the coursing river, (Be a man), With all the force of a great typhoon, (Be a man), With all the strength of a raging fire, mysterious as the dark side of the moon."

Stag Films: They Came To Town In A Doctor's Bag

Alpha Males must watch stag films. I'll be back later to give you all the dirty details in Lesson 4: Stag Films.

Tina Brown on High Heels

I like this bit from Tina Brown in the Times about high heels. She's "spot on" as they say on that side of the pond.

The lethal shoe is an essential part of the business woman’s armoury. In the morning, you see the Alpha Moms dropping their kids at school all suited up for work. Breastplate: Armani jacket. Shield: Marc Jacobs bag. Lance: Christian Louboutin stilettos. Women over 40 are particularly addicted, perhaps because, whatever the humiliations of the changing room, shoes are the one glamour perk we can always get to fit.

Alpha Male: Lesson 3: Why Alpha Males Get Pussy Galore

When it comes to being "PC", you may have noticed there's nothing particularly politically correct about alpha males -- another reason you gotta just love them. They are the consummate rule breakers. They revel in dashing expectations. They make the game up as they go, writing their own rules on the fly. So when it comes to "PC" they have a different spin on those two letters. Let's introduce two fundamental Alpha Male Vocabulary Builder words -- Pussy and Cock. The P word is key. There's no question that if you want to become an Alpha Male you have to understand the P word and you have to get a lot of it.

Alpha Males get pussy. They really do. They get it and they get it. One Alpha Male told me he would just kill me if I ever wrote about the pussy strategy. Well, I guess I'll just have to lie low and not be seeing him in all the old familiar places, because whether he likes it or not, I've got to get the pussy rule down on paper. It's such a brilliant strategy and actually has applications far beyond the dating arena -- it works at work too.

Nothing improves your tribal status better than walking in with or being seen with the best looking woman at the party. Here's what Alpha Males know -- they know they can get the best looking babe at the party. They know because they've done it many times and they know they can do it again. How do they do it? You might well ask, because let me say many of the most successful Alpha Males are not drop-dead good looking. In fact, they're just average Joes, many of the best of them. You've been to a party and asked yourself the musical question, "Is he really going out with her?" when you see an average guy walking in with a killer babe. Well, you are watching an Alpha Male in action, busy implementing the pussy strategy.

Here's what they know. Most men at the party are just too intimated to go talk to the super model babe, assuming she will shoot them down. They self-select themselves OUT of the top drawer pussy. It happens all the time. Ask beautiful women -- NO ONE TALKS TO THEM. Except Alpha Males who know this fundamental truth, so they know ironically that they have an open field and a very HIGH likelihood of scoring

When I say it works at work, I mean it. It's much easier to talk to the CEO of a company than it is to get a meeting with all the drones that report to him. They're too busy doing what he wants. And so many people are afraid of the CEO, no one talks to him either. And he wants to know what the hell is going on in the world and is often open to talking to a half-way intelligent person.

Which brings me to the second part of the pussy strategy -- the best looking girl at the party WILL talk to most Alpha Males and Alpha Male wannbes -- but you better have something halfway intelligent to say. More on that in the next lesson.

Take Me To The Emotional Mud Baths

I like Dave's idea that you can go to an emotional spa where they are short on physical treatments and long on restoring your emotional health. I sure underatand what it's like to try and recover from the rollercoaster of taking care of an ill parent. It just about kills you.

So here are the special treatment rooms at the spa -- The "You Are So Adorable" Room, The "Thundering Applause" Room, The "We Can't Manage Without You" Room, and then down the hall there's The "My Hero!" Room.

Ditching Church

Hate to ditch church but we're going skiing with friends and with work and everything else, it's hard to find the time to see anyone, much less get some exercise in the winter. Pathetic justification I know, but hey, I want to go skiing.

Trouble In Mind I'm Blue

Woke up this morning really worried about something and took a big dose of my favorite drug -- and boy do I feel better.

Trouble in mind, I'm blue
But I won't be blue always,
You know the sun's gonna shine
And brighten my backdoor some day.

I'm all alone at midnight
And my lamp is burnin' low
I Ain't never had so much
Trouble in my mind before.

Most pills only take a few seconds to swallow but my big worry drug takes an hour. But it's worth all the trouble. I like all the bright candy colors -- pinks and reds and blues -- 3 lb weights, 5 lb weights, 10 weights. Just do it -- crunches, bicep curls, supine French press, adductor lift, squats, dips, lunges. Top it off with prayer and "oh, yeah, I'm not in charge here anyway."

Consider the lilies of the field,
how they grow;
They toil not, neither do they spin;
And yet I say unto you,
that even Solomon in all his glory
was not arrayed like one of these.

Becoming An Alpha Male -- Lesson Two: Giving It

[Editor's Note: This is about fellatio -- in a metaphorical sense of course.]

Okay, I have a theory about Bill Clinton. Let me say first off, I don't know him, haven't met him and really don't know too much more than what I may or may not have read in the papers about him. Except, I do know several people who've met him and there is something striking about all the descriptions I've heard of him. Almost all these recollections talk about one thing first -- and it's not sex. They talk about an essential Alpha Male quality -- he's got incredible energy -- and he knows how to give it to others. He's incredibly fun, engaging, energetic, smart as shit and gives as good as he gets.

So here's Lesson Two -- if you really want to be an Alpha Male, you've got to give. You've got to give people pleasure, give people a reason to be near you, give guys a reason to wish they were you, give women a desire to have you, you've got to give and give and give. And as for giving good head, any Alpha Male worth their salt knows they have to get down on their knees now and then, and give another superior Alpha Male -- whether from a larger territory than their own, or simply an Alpha Male Emeritus, or an Alpha Male who dominates another discipline -- well, they have to give them their due, so to speak. Sometimes you're asking for it, but sometimes you've got to be willing to just give it. Don't be shy. You're the guy. You're the man. Just Do It.

Shackleton's Tough Sledding

Now here's a weblog of sorts I'm glad I'm not writing. This was certainly no pleasant day of sledding in the snow.

Don We Now Our Snow Apparel

Wow! We got nearly a foot of new snow here. On go the snow pants, the boots, the mittens, the hats and we're headed out for breakfast in the snow. It's drifted up against all the windows and the trees are bending low with the weight of it here. I can tell my 7-year-old's figuring about a million ways to dump snow on his mom's head -- so I better get smart and ready to duck. The front door is stuck with the weight of the snow against it. Get the shovels. Back later.

Snow Candy

My mom was a lot of fun. She did all the fun sports we did right along with us, for instance, she was a first class pogo sticker. And she loved to do just about anything outside with us. And she loved to play in the snow with us -- doing angels, building snowmen, all of it.

She was also a great cook. She had some sensational dishes and some unusual ones, to be sure. When it snowed she used to let us bring in a pan of clean snow and then we'd put Log Cabin Maple Syrup on it and eat it with a spoon.

Thinking of her tonight as the snow is coming down very hard here in Boston. Might serve snow candy for dinner.

Will Blogging Pay?

Looks like Andrew Sullivan is asking the right question about blogging. Blogs don't necessarily pay, but they showcase work that may eventually pay. Sullivan points us to John Scalzi who serialized his sci-fi story in his blog last month and just got a 2-book deal with a publisher as a result.

Apologies to Sullivan for not linking to his post directly -- can't find his permalinks -- is it possible this King of Bloggers doesn't have permalinks?

Yes, I Love Alpha Males

What's not to love? The rakish tilt of the head, the slightly loosened tie, the 5 o'clock shadow, the striding across the room, showing off that nice male body, to take the podium and dominate the discussion, in an oh-so-humble and self-effacing way, as if they weren't running things. Yeah, I like it. Hey, I'm a woman -- I'm not immune!

A few of you have been emailing me asking if I'm just teasing or I'm actually serious. I'm not getting my tone right I guess. Yes, I'm serious. A pack needs a top dog. A tribe needs a leader. A world needs a hero.

Becoming An Alpha Male -- Lesson One: Getting It

I guess I'd have to say the number one thing all alpha males have and they have it in spades, is that they look like they're getting it. Now, I'll discuss later whether in fact this has anything to do with whether they actually ARE getting it, but that happens to be secondary to LOOKING like you are getting it.

So if you are ever hope to climb up the ladder of the Greek alphabet to Alphadom, all the way from the sad, overpopulated backwaters of Omegaland -- you have to start looking like you are getting it. And what does that mean?

Well, let's start with Pierce Brosnan, or any actor who ever played James Bond, in fact. Guys who look like they are getting it actually look a little post-coital -- hair a little messy, eyes a little tired. They look rather casual about it, even disinterested -- which is why they DO get it -- because they don't look like they're begging for it. And women always go for that -- it's the guy who looks like he doesn't care much if he gets it or not and also looks like he can get it whenever and whereever he wants, that gets you all stirred up -- he's a bit arrogant, he makes you slow down and take a second look. You think, "Well, who the hell does he think he is?" And once a woman's thought that, well, guys you are most decidedly in the drivers seat. She's going to have that burning need to find out about you.

So think of Bond again. He looks like he's got something better to do -- save the world, hang from a helicopter by one shoe lace, use his remote-control BMW to flatten terrorists -- and since he looks like he really doesn't have time for it, he actually manages to LOOK like he's getting it big time -- and in fact, he DOES get it, whenever he wants. Get it?

Gary Turner on Alpha Males

Yes, Gary's got lots to say about whether a woman should, or can, or shall, or ought to write a book on how to become an Alpha Male.

Take The Test For Alpha Males

Hey, how cool. There's already a test of Alpha Malehood. Check it out. I didn't even have to invent one.

Downward Dog

To the yoga mat I trot, to remind me of the earth, gravity, this strange planet on which we spin around and around and around and maybe I can find a peaceful place to start this morning.

For Gary, Fiona, Cameron

I felt a funeral in my brain,
And mourners, to and fro,
Kept treading, treading, till it seemed
That sense was breaking through.

And when they all were seated,
A service like a drum
Kept beating, beating, till I thought
My mind was going numb.

And then I heard them lift a box,
And creak across my soul
With those same boots of lead, again.
Then space began to toll

As all the heavens were a bell,
And Being but an ear,
And I and silence some strange race,
Wrecked, solitary, here.

-- Emily Dickinson

So Sorry

Just heard our friend and fellow-blogger, Gary Turner, has lost his dad. So sorry. And this within a week of he and his wife having a new baby?! Just to remind us nothing in this world is fair or predictable or sensible.

Bloggers Grow Up in 2003

It is much in fashion among fellow bloggers -- and I'm as guilty of it as the next -- to bemoan the fact that the world and big J Journalism don't take blogging seriously. In fact, the people that don't take blogging seriously enough are bloggers themselves. We need to change that today. We don't need anyone's permission. We've seen evidence enough. We can start taking ourselves seriously. Okay, okay, Rageboy, I don't mean SERIOUSLY like that, I mean ... you know what I mean.

A small group of thoughtful people could change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.
-- Margaret Mead

Job Angel -- Do it

Pick five people you know -- could be family, friends, anyone. You don't even have to tell them you picked them. Commit to helping these five people find jobs if they aren't working or finding new jobs if they're ready to make a move, or if they are freelancers, finding new projects. Help them in any way you can.

Last summer my sister and I had a conversation. I wanted a full-time job after working as a contract person for a long time. She is not a typical corporate person, but rather a painter and a writer. We had a conversation that simply went like this, "You know, I'd really like a full-time job," says I. And she said, "You know, of all the places to work in Boston, I can imagine you liking Harvard a lot." And I say, "Hmm ... that's an interesting idea." That was the whole thing.

I didn't even remember the conversation until months later when I was working at Harvard. Something simple happened there -- she helped me put my intentions into the world and into focus. She helped me think of a strategy. It was a 1-minute conversation -- she didn't know anyone at Harvard for me to talk to, she didn't know if there were any jobs, she doesn't live here, but it made a difference. I really appreciated her doing that for me.

You can do that for five people and you'll see something interesting happen. And some of you out there can HIRE five people and you should. It's my economy now. But it can be yours too.

My 2003 Economy

I've decided the economy belongs to me. That is, all the little things I do - the things I buy, the ideas I have about the economy, the way I think about work, the things I say about the economy -- and especially how I can help other friends find work -- really matter. These small things really make a difference. The economy doesn't belong to them. It belongs to me. And by the way, could everybody stop talking about women using the euphemistic term "consumers" and christ, haven't we had enough of "consumer confidence" which simply means women going shopping.

January - December Mix-up

I don't know what's going on but those last two posts were from last night ... which is to say LAST MONTH ... and now I'm back and it's January. For some reason they wouldn't post last night, kept going to "Future" posts instead of "Current" -- whatever. With this post I should be clear of 2002 and on to 2003.

Drop That Ball

Amazingly, I think I've just about managed to stay up til midnight! Thanks for all the help from my friends. This will be a great new year! Now off to bed with all of you. :-) -- Signed, Ms. Comment

Fading Fast

I've got my purple flannel pj's on with the honeybees that say QUEEN BEE on them, eating pizza and prunes here, swigging blue Gatorade. Party girl!! Okay, guys help me keep my eyes open -- it's 9:45 which happens to be WAY past my bedtime. I just talked to Jeneane on the phone and I have to call her back in a half hour, so don't let me fall asleep.

So let me thank all the folks who blogged me tonight. First, thanks so much to Gary Turner in the UK who wrote "Halley (Who Is Mental) Says 2003 Should Be Rebranded" -- thanks Gare, what do you think that we don't speak English over here or something and I don't know you're calling me a mental case?! Sheeeeesh!

Doc has blogged me too and lucky guy, he's off to some fancy party, dressed like Fred Astaire and with all the pounds he's lost on that Atkins diet, he probably LOOKS as skinny as Fred Astaire.

And Dave, thanks for blogging my KISS post too, but it's generated a ton of international virtual smooches, hope that was your intention. I've gotten e-kisses from the Netherlands and beyond!