The Newest Addition to the Family

My sister Carmen gave birth to twins today. Here are some photos of Bryce and Colby:

Above Photo: Uncle Ryan and Bryce.

Above Photo: Uncle Ryan holds Colby while Daddy Matt holds Bryce.

Another Christmas, Another Photo of A Christmas Tree

I spent some time today putting a few digital photo albums together as a supplement to a Christmas gift for my parents (if you must know I bought them one of these, and then filled it with tons of photos; some photos are really old and were recently digitized by yours truely).

Anyway, in my pursuit of finding "family friendly" portrait and landscape photos, I came across several snapshots from Christmas past ...

It seems that each year I always -- without fail -- take a photo of the family tree. The tree isn't anything special: Just your average 7-foot plastic Douglas Fir, adorned with Target Store ornaments and random Christmas-y knick knacks from the past 30+ years. Wow, some tree.

Two Items On My 101 List Can Be Crossed Off

I just realized that I am able to cross off two items on my "101 Life List."

Help me by saying "syanora" to: #50 Watch a professional sport from an executive box and #44 See an NFL game.

A couple of weeks ago I went with my girlfriend to see the Washington Redskins play against the Atlanta Falcons at FedEx Field. We watched the game from an executive suite -- catered with tons of beer, chips, dips, chilli dogs, cheese steaks, cookies and other fatty, but yummy, foods.

An E-Mail From My Mother

Written in her typical tangent thought trail, here is an e-mail from my mother about an entry I made on 9/11:

"I had the same thought yesterday about your calling me on that fateful day because I too had not had my tv on that morning. And you were right, it was the one time Dad had not left me his itinerary so I didn’t know his airline or flight #. I remember making frantic phone calls after you and I hung up to Alicia and Carmen. Alicia is like her Mom so at first she panicked and got tears in her voice. But Carmen remained cool and collected and said she would do some research because I did remember that Dad was connecting through Amsterdam (not Prague). She called me back about a ½ hour later and said there were two flights coming from Amsterdam, so he was probably on one of them. Later that afternoon, he called to say his plane had been turned around and returned to Amsterdam and when they all got off the plane, that’s when they were told the truth. That’s where he had to stay for the extra 5 days until he could get another plane home. I remember leaving you voice mails because the cell phone lines were down/overloaded and hoped you knew he was all right. Scary time I hope no one has to repeat. Have you watched any of the tv specials? Dad did watch the controversial ABC docu drama and thought it was pretty good in the sense it portrayed the amount of territorial egos, pc that ruled the day instead of putting the good of the country first, and the general bureaucracy that hinders real action and decisions from taking place. I didn’t watch it as I find reliving the horror too emotionally draining. I watched a CNN report that Christiane Amanpour did on how we got to where we are. She included the life and rise to power of Osama bin Laden and Al Qaeda. She interviewed boyhood friends and others that worked with him and then distanced themselves from him as he became more and more extremist. She tied in how the Taliban was involved, and other interesting connections."

09.11.01

I spent most of my day with 9/11 on my mind.

Driving into work, I listened to the Howard Stern show on Sirius. Instead of treating today like any other day, Howard decided to rebroadcast the recordings of his show from five years ago on this day.

The show brought back vivid memories of where I was when the planes hit the Trade Center and the Pentagon.

It made me feel numb again.

I spent the whole day at my desk listening to the show while working -- six hours of archived recording.

Right now I am at home watching President Bush address the nation about today's meaning ... what we're still doing in Iraq ...

Every once in a while I feel like I did five years ago -- a temporary feeling of not feeling safe; scared.

It can all still happen again. I think that is what makes me scared the most.

A Smattering of Photos

Click on a photo to get a closer look.

Moonlight Blog Entry

Right now I am sitting on the deck of my parent's sailboat under a moon lit sky. So far the July Fourth weekend has been a hot familial one.

My sister Carmen and her husband Matt drove down from Jersey to spend the weekend with us. They are having twins.



My dad and I continue to butt our heads with one another ... over simple, meaningless crap ... I think this has a lot to do with our strong personalities -- not the best way to communicate between the two of us.

Sailing on the York River

Self Portrait at Sail
Originally uploaded by ryanmorrisc.

I went sailing this past weekend with my parents. I took this photo of myself on Father's Day.

Memorial Weekend Sail

I went sailing this weekend with my parents. I've been trying to take advantage of my free time and spend it with them. They aren't retired yet, but they soon will be. They aren't elderly either, but time flies and I want to spend as much time with them as I can.

My folks have an LCD television with built-in DVD player on their boat, so I was able to watch Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room.

It is revolting what the executives and Arthur Andersen did to the Enron employees. To sum it up, one employee had worked at Enron and was ready to retire with just over $300,000 in his retirement fund. A few months before the employee was going to retire, the company folded. He was left with a $1200 check.

Disgusting.

In a better light, I used the sailing trip to start reading a book that has been on my shelf for quite some time; Winning, by Jack Welch (you know, the guy that breathed new life into GE). So far it is pretty good.

... About Those Bugs

I forgot to mention the movie binge I went on in my previous post.

Because I was stuck at home in bed riding out a stomache virus, I was able to keep the local Hollywood Video store in business. Here is the movie debauchery:

• Downfall Hitler and half his cabinent blow their brains out. His secretary gets giddy when she's around him.
• The Weather Man Nicholas Cage proves that my life is way cooler than that of a weather man.
• Two For the Money Picking who is going to win the Superbowl is way cooler than actually betting on it.
• The Transporter BMW 745i takes on human traffickers.
• The Transporter II Audi A8 takes on kidnappers. Double pistols rule.
• A Murder of Crows Cuba Gooding needed a quick pay check -- I'm pretty sure that is why he did this movie. Not a bad flick, but he was much better in Jerry Macguire. Unfortunately the movie will haunt me since I bought it a year ago at a truck stop for six bucks.
• Lord of War Guns don't kill people; People kill people.
• Torque Worse than a Vin Diesel movie. The bikes are hott.
• Sideways Pretty funny. The main characters remind me of some friends of mine.
• The New World Horrible. Very slooooow. Watching Colin Farrell get drunk at his local pub would have made a better plot.
• Ladder 49 Joaquin Phoenix reflects on his life as a firefighter while trapped in a burning building. Pony ending.
• A Few Good Men The truth? You can't handle the truth!
• North Country Tag line: All She Wanted Was To Make A Living. Instead She Made History.

Bugs and Traveling

I haven't posted in a while ... I know-- not the proper way to "build an audience."

I've got a good reason for my absence; I got some weird stomach bug and was out of town.

1-2, punch.

Purpose

I guess the reason I am writing all of these stories down ... the reason I am trying to recollect everything that has happened in my life, is because grandma isn't around anymore.

Grandma Morris was the reason I know who I am -- who my family is.

Helen Morris recorded the Morris family history through scrapbooks. Every time we visited her (my family) in Waveland, Mississippi, I looked forward to an evening where everyone would pull out a scrapbook and take in almost 100 years of history. Fourteen volumes of Black history. Our family history.

She would tell stories about my dad's cousins, and who his childhood friends were; why she was dressed to the nines in one photo and smiling ear to ear in another.

I miss her.

She passed away several years ago when I was still in college.

I remember the last time I saw her. I remember talking to my dad's uncle Andrew.

I remember thinking, "I am so blessed to have such a strong and beautiful family."

It is those memories of family gatherings that make me feel a responsibility to stay strong ... to accomplish great things ... to be a rock for my (God willing) future children.

Grandma is gone, but the recording of our family history has not passed with her.

My fingers are the new orator. My blog, the family griot.

I invite you to share in my life's achievements. My failures. My moments of joy, and times of sadness.

A Correction to My Last Post ...

... I now have a del.icio.us account.

My username is 'morrisryanc'. Now I just need some people to give me some tags.

Random Technology Observations

I think I am obsessed with my laptop -- and everything that it can can't do.

I just spent four hours screwing around with an OS shell called Litestep. I still haven't figured out how to get the fricken thing to allow me to use my shortcut keys.

Two confessions:

1. I am addicted to RSS feeds.
2. I don't have a del.icio.us account.

My Dad Is the Reason I Love the Internet

“No, no. You go like this,” my dad said as he demonstrated how to properly close a telescoping radio antenna.

“You start at the bottom and gently pull straight down. Once the sleeve is all the way down, you move up to the next section of the antenna and do the same thing … and so on and so forth.”

Everything I have learned about electronics and my curiosity for everything technological I credit to my dad.

Before the Internet, cell phones and digital surround sound, my dad was “early adopting” and “pioneering” at as quick of a rate as his generation’s scientists could muster.

You see, my dad was a ham. No, not a goofy prankster, but rather an amateur radio operator, or “ham” as operators are still known today.

He was just 13-years old when he earned his novice amateur radio license. It wasn’t long before he worked his way up the ranks to be able to talk to entirely different countries through the analog form of communication.

I assume his passion for amateur radio growing up was much like my passion for computers and gadgets.

As a military family, we moved to several different houses. Whenever it came time to look at a house to move into, one of my dad’s concerns was always “Where will the amateur radio antenna be mounted in this place?”

In Sacramento, CA my dad had what was called a Yagi antenna. It was a huge monstrosity of a thing that dwarfed our modest three bedroom – ahem, actually four bedroom – home (dad took one of the bedrooms as his own radio shack and made my two sisters share a room – a decision that still to this day during family gatherings is not left to die by my adult sisters).

When we moved to Fairfax, VA he mounted a single pole antenna in-between several tall trees that were in the front of our house.

We moved three times in Fairfax.

In the second house – just two blocks down the street – he ran a long wire that made what is called a dipole antenna. Picture a piece of cable split into a “Y” shape and then mounted up in the canopy of a forest; At least it was hidden this time.

In the third Fairfax home, (this time my parents purchased the house since they got tired of the Air Force telling them it would only be another 18 months till we PCS’d somewhere new) dad decided to mount a pole to the garage and attach a long piece of cable to it. I think that cable must have stretched 70 or 80 feet into the forest behind our house. Like the home before, this was a dipole antenna.

In the final Fairfax home (not really a home per se, but more of a temporary place for my parents to lay their head down while their dream home was built three hours away) or should I say, apartment, there were no antennas to speak of. I know my mom was relieved by this.

What does all of this talk about antennas have to do with me? It simply points out that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

As I said before, I believe I get all of my technology interests from my father. As a perfect example, I currently run four Blogs and three Web sites. Did I mention I have switched cell phone carriers every year for the last three years (and sometimes twice in a year), just because one of the carriers had a cooler phone or better data rate plan?

As I said, the apple doesn’t fall that far from the tree.

Sacramento: My First Set of Stitches

I would be lying if I said I remembered the accident in its entirety. When I was around four years old, I obtained my first set of stitches from an accident, which involved a glass of orange juice, a vacuum and friendly competition.

I wonder if I do not really remember the event at all -- perhaps after being told the story so many times by my parents, I created my own "memory" of the event; like a schema of sorts.

My family and I were stationed in Sacramento, California. It was around 1980 or 1981 when the accident happened; because I think, I was either three or four years old.

I was at my best friend Matthew Grove's house for the afternoon. My mother was out running errands and she asked Matthew's mom to look after me for a few hours. I probably would have spent time over at the Grove's house anyways as Matthew and his brother Jeremy and I spent most of our free time together -- which when you are not in kindergarten yet is a LOT of time.

The story goes like this: Matt and I were in his family room and his mom shouted from the adjacent kitchen for Matthew to retrieve the dirty glass his father had left on the coffee table the previous night.

In the spirit of friendly competition, one of us challenged each other to race to the glass. Yeah, I know, not that smart.

We tore across the family room rug and before you know it, I tripped over a vacuum cord and put the back of my head squarely into the juice glass and wood coffee table.

Smash!

Legend has it that because my head is rumored to be plated in iron, the oak coffee table cracked from the blow it took from my noggin.

Luckily, Mrs. Grove had been a nurse, so she knew exactly what to do to deal with the bleeding from my head.

I do not remember going to the hospital, who took me (I think it was my mother, but not sure), or if I passed out or not.

I do however remember getting the stitches out. We always went to McClellan Air Force Base for my family's healthcare needs, and the removal of stitches was no exception. I remember being nervous and very concerned that removing the stitches would hurt.

My mother took me to see the doctor and from what I can remember, I did not cry. I remember the blue sterile paper that the doctor's implements were laid on, and him saying that I did just fine. I don't remember his face though; just his conclusion that I did a "good job" and am a "very brave boy."

If you look at the center of the back of my head, you can see a perfectly round scar above a vertical scar. Sometimes when people ask me how I got the scars, I pull their leg and say it was from a time when five muggers with knives jumped me. "I was the lucky one," I'd tell them ...

Uruguay: Getting There

I was 12 years old when I moved to Uruguay. My dad was a colonel in the Air Force at the time and to this day, I think he still believes the Uruguay tour was the best assignment he ever had.

When I was around 8 years old, my dad left my mom, sisters and I to head to the Presidio of Monterey, California for several months to master the Spanish language. The Presidio of Monterey is the ‘Home of the Defense Language Institute Foreign Language Center’. It is renowned as the United States' best foreign language school.

Dad always had a fascination with all things "Latino." A quick look through his vinyl collection and you could tell that his curiosity to learn about Latino culture wasn't just a phase. Some of his records are from his undergrad college days at the University of Utah as an ROTC student. I think my mom and he took dancing lessons when they were undergrads. A little tango, a little mambo, and some Polish polka -- that's a whole other story.

OK, so Uruguay. I remember my mom and I had to wake up early and be at the Dulles International Airport four hours before our flight to New York was supposed to take off. We were bringing our family dog, Buttons -- a mindless yet adorable Poodle Terrier -- so that meant we had to be at the airport and additional two more hours on top of the four required for international flights.

I don't remember much about what I did to bide my time while waiting to board the Pan Am 747 for six hours, but I do remember an incident involving my mother's purse, and consequently the first time I realized I was more mature than I knew.

As I walked down the Jetway with my mother, carry-on luggage in tow, I remember thinking, "So, at what time am I actually going to say goodbye to America? I mean, at what point do I fully accept that I won't be coming back to the U.S. for three years? Is it when the wheels of the plane are no longer touching the tarmac in New York? Is it when I first see the Atlantic Ocean 30,000 feet below?"

Such a question boggled my 12-year old mind.

It wasn't until we were all settled in our seats – co-pilot side of the Boeing 747 with me in the window seat-- that I saw a panicked look on my mother's face.

I remember we were looking out the window watching the baggage handlers load Buttons’ kennel into the belly of the craft.

"Oh, no! Oh my God!," my mother said.

"What? What's wrong?," I said.

"Where's my purse? Is it in my carry-on?" she said frantically as she tore through her bags.

"Mom, calm down!" I said. "See if the stewardess can do anything. Do you think you left it at the gate?"

"I don't know. I might have. Yes, maybe."

She was able to get a flight attendant's attention and inquire about her purse.

"It had everything in it; our passports, cash, credit cards, everything."

The attendant said she would see what info she could find out. Unfortunately, my mom wasn't able to run back to the gate to look for it as we were in the final stages of pre-flight check.

I think it wasn't until we were taxiing down the runway that the attendant leaned over to my mom and assured her it would be waiting for us at the gate in New York.

It wasn't until then that she completely calmed down and was able to enjoy the flight. We had a good chuckle about it too, and how her pre-teen son told her to, “Chill!” and get a grip.

“The situation could be a lot worse,” I reminded her.

She looked into my eyes and said, “You’re right, it could be.”

My 101 List

1 Fall in love
2 Get married
3 Take care of mother/father
4 Have children
5 Have children become individuals and self-actualized staying loving within the family
6 Have grandchildren
7 Leave all financial matters in great shape for family members upon passing on
8
9
10
11
12 Pay off college debt
13 Net worth of one million dollars, after taxes
14 Net worth of ten million dollars, after taxes
15 Net worth of fifty million dollars, after taxes
16 Zero personal debt for family
17 Make five hundred thousand dollars on an outside investment
18 Own my own home
19 Start a company and sell it
20
21
22 Drive a car on a race track
23 Own a beach home that stays in family
24 Own a cutting-edge bicycle
25 Own a sailboat
26 Own a great personal collection of fine tailored suits
27 Design my own modern home
28 Own a great personal collection of watches
29 Own or drive a Ferrari
30 Own or drive a Lamborghini
31 Own a motorcycle
32 Own and design a custom home theater/media room
33 Own a premium luxury car.
34 Donate a significant amount of money to an African-American focused cause
35
36
37
38
39 Go to an English pro soccer match
40 Go to a Tour de France
41 Go skydiving
42 See an NHL game
43 See an NBA game
44 See an NFL game
45 Go to the FIFA World Cup
46 Break 100 in golf
47 Break 90 in golf
48
49 Go to a University of Florida Homecoming post graduation
50 Watch a professional sport from an executive box
51 Go to a Formula 1 or Supersport race
52 Sail to the Carribean
53 Take a motorcycle racing course
54
55
56
57 Take my kids camping
58
59
60
61
62
63
64 Go to Czech Republic
65 Go to Las Vegas
66 Go to Germany
67 Go to Italy
68 Live in a foreign country
69 Go to Hawaii
70 Go to Africa
71 Go to England
72 Go to France
73 Go to Australia
74 Go to Spain
75 Go to the Caribbean
76 Go to Brazil
77 Go to Austria
78 Go to Argentina
79 Visit Uruguay
80 Visit the chapel of Madonna del Ghisallo
81 Visit and pay respects to a WWII memorial concentration camp
82 Shake hands with the President
83 Tour Air Force One
84 Fly or ride along in a fighter Jet
85 Write a book
86 Learn Spanish
87 Learn Italian
88 Learn Portuguese
89 Tour the White House
90 See U2
91 See Coldplay
92 See Dave Matthews Band
93 Take a year sabbatical
94 Learn to play the blues on the guitar
95 Restore/Refurbish an automobile or motorcycle
96 See Ray Charles in concert
97 See B.B. King in Concert
98 Take my wife to Paris, France
99
100
101

Prelude to a 101 List

I recently subscribed to Ted Leonsis' blog, Ted's Take. That guy amazes me.

His blog isn't anything to write home about for the most part, but every once in a while he'll post a real gem.

Most of the time he punches in quick updates about the Washington Capitals (he's the principal owner) and other sports (Nationals, Wizards, etc.)

I'm not much of a "mainstream" sports guy, so I usually just glance over his sport-related blogs.

About those gems: His "101 List" is astounding. I mean, the type of things he put on there are big. Really BIG.

It inspired me to create my own. It seems that whenever I create a list, I am able to usually accomplish everything on it. Why don't I apply that same principal to my life goals?

So, without further delay, I present my "101 List."

... and now that i made my first post

I've been designing lately. Architecture. Floorplans. Dreams.

I bought a proper sketch book two weeks ago and began doodling again.

I want to design and build my own house. Soon.

I always thought I'd just move into a condo since property is so expensive in the DC area, but a few weeks ago I came across some land online in the Washington Post Real Estate guide.

$100 grand gets me a 100' x 23' lot in the same ZIP code I currently reside in.

Sounds too good to be true, I know.

Ever since then, I've dropped all desire to search for a reasonably priced condo that is more than 500 square feet.

It could be worse I guess; I could be living in a box.

Start Now

I've been dealing with blogs a lot lately and feel compelled to create another one; on a more personal level.

I have no idea how long this blog will exist, what topics will be covered, or who will read this thing. Since there are so many blogs out there (700,000 are created per day) I doubt anyone will regularly read mine ... unless I make it interesting and follow all of the rules to "build an audience."

I hope this thing gives me new ideas, serves as a method of therapy and improves my blog writing skills.