Chris, a friend of mine in San Diego since 2007 when we met over a beer and some art talk, sends me fun photos, wisecracks, jokes, memes and personal stories from his life as an artist. He’s a prolific airbrush artist, always a pro head-to-toe, hard-working and always busy.

Over the years I have received always-amusing, one- or two-line emails from him. Minimalist commentary from a fellow artist and someone who, like me, enjoys biting back at would-be internet scammers.

Today he shot a few lines and a link at me… notes on his weekend airbrushing shirts for a party, etc.

The first event I did, they didn’t feed us — and the guests got food poisoning!
The second event set me up directly in front of the DJ and his speakers and then they played Pop the Balloon (by sitting on it abruptly) 4 feet from where I was painting!!
It’s never easy!

Then he added,

A tree fell on a car on Ingraham right after I turned around and went home. The driver was killed, unfortunately.

I live nearly 500 miles north of San Diego now, but I wanted to know more… and see if it was someone I know from my life back then. So I looked up local San Diego stories and discovered it was a beautiful, 48-year woman, Nicki Carano — a drummer in a band called Spider Tree, driving herself alone to their gig in Ocean Beach.

Seems a huge tree uprooted itself in the storm-softened soil and high winds pushed it over. It fell across the road crushing three cars. Hers was the only one occupied, and she was reportedly killed instantly.

There is something about the way her life instantly (and innocently) ended that struck me. I actually said out loud, when I saw the photo of her crushed car, “Wow… when it’s your time to go…”

And I thought about the amount in time between life and death — potentially for any of us. Instant for some. I thought of families with things left unsaid, like I love you, or I’m sorry. I thought about how so many opportunities to do right, to do more, to give or to take back — all completely disappear in that same moment in time. Forever.

I read a bit about her and sent back a message to Chris that the driver was a woman, I added her name, and that it appears she was an active musician and teacher in San Diego.

Killed instantly in a freak accident when a huge tree uprooted and fell in the storm, crushing her alone in her car.

Little did I know I was a mere two degrees of separation from Nicki Carano — who leaves behind broken-hearted family, friends, music lovers and drum and tap students, along with fellow performers in the San Diego Academy of Performing Arts.

Chris has known her for 30 years, passed by her shop regularly, just recently bought a flute from her, knew her when she worked in a shop next to his shop on the boardwalk in Pacific Beach when she was a kid.

He’s stunned. Sad.

Numb.

He added “It’s odd that I found out from you.”

Yes it is. And it’s odd that something seemingly completely random that happened to someone I never knew — a friend of a friend — has profoundly affected me from 500 miles away. My prayers go out for the family and friend of Nicki Carano. #nickicarano

At the last moment, I was asked to interview attendees. So, I winged it.

If you would like a copy of this 222MB “MP4” video, playable on iPhone, iPad and Android devices, as well as computer, download the WHS Class of 1975 20-year Reunion here.

What an exciting, historical day. At 4:13am, I awoke, and my first thought was about what a big day it is for America. Even though I did not vote for Barack Obama, I cannot help but feel the excitement of this time in history, and I find myself very enthusiastic about the celebration today.

They are saying that there hasn’t been this much excitement since President Reagan’s inauguration. And I regret that my kids were too young to appreciate what a unique, great man Reagan was. But I am glad they are all more than old enough to be impacted by this moment in history.

The TV in my studio will be on all day, I know, because I don’t want to miss a thing.

What is astounding to me is that in my relatively short lifetime — which has been about 20% the length of the age of our own nation — I have been alive and walking on the planet in a time that saw back-of-the-bus treatment for Blacks, lynchings, “Whites Only” drinking fountains, Dr. Martin Luther King’s marches and speeches, hearing him described as a rabblerouser, his assassination, Rosa Parks, the Watts Riots, Rodney King, OJ’s slow ride, and so much more… to a black man being elected President of the United States.

I always knew that someday we’d have a black president, but for lack of any black candidates that I would want as my president based on their merits — and believe me, I wanted to vote for a black man, if for no other reason than to prove to something to myself — I just never really thought I’d see this in my lifetime. I guess I just thought I would see an endless parade of also-rans every four years for the rest of my life, and someday I would pat my grandkids on the head and tell them, Yes, someday, little ones, there will be a black president. We’re getting closer… would’ve loved to see it.

Today is like a wedding party (except that the honeymoon messes with the metaphor). It’s a huge day that signals a new beginning — and the party should be huge, the champagne should flow, the smiles should be broad. But then real life sets in. We get busy. We have a bride and a groom, yes, but the bride is in traction, she’s lost a lot of blood, her pulse is strong today, but her vitals signs are in question. Not a great start for a new marriage, though not an impossible situation.

I keep hearing about what a remarkably smooth transition the transfer of power has been at the White House. But I have not heard one commentator say what I believe in my heart, that the reason for this is, in large part, due to the class and dignity of the man who is still president at this moment as I write, George W. Bush. Say whatever you like about the man, but there is nothing surprising to me at all that he would demand the highest standards of cooperation from all involved in handing over The Power and White House. I would imagine that he led by example alone. He’s shown nothing but the most extraordinary humility and dignity from before the election, right through this day.

I contrast that to 2001, when the new staff entered the White House to find, amidst the estimated $20,000 in vandalism connected to the former administration’s staff, childish acts such as removing all the W keys from the computer keyboards that were left behind, and the re-routing of over 100 incoming phone lines to the White House, just to cause confusion. Moments like these — including this current transition — have helped me see the difference between ideologies and the people behind them.

I generalize, of course, but therein lies the beauty of generalizations.

I voted for someone else in the Election, and still someone different in the Primaries, and the outcome drew the same response in my soul: my disappointment will not cloud my respect for the office or for the dignity of the person holding that office.

Barack Obama, just like anyone that has come before him, is just a man. His blood is red like mine, and he breathes the same air. But he has a job that demands my respect, unbiased scrutiny, understanding, and even forgiveness for inevitable mistakes to come, and a heart, soul and mind that deserve my prayers for Wisdom.

I would hope that every American feels this way today.

I have a Dream.

Update: Second Term
I could not disagree with the policies of an Administration more than I do with this one. —dd, March 11, 2013

I don’t know what the 6th gets you. First anniversary is paper, 50th is gold, and if you make it to a 75th, you’re supposed to get the most expensive one, titanium, and all I can figure is that if you get something made of titanium it comes with a Last Will and Testament for you to sign.

Well, we got married barefoot on Ponto Beach in Carlsbad, six years ago. It was a Sunday afternoon, and our 6th was a Monday. So we went to Trader Joes to find a wine to commemorate our anniversary. There wasn’t one wine with a six in the name. We thought of getting two bottles of Tres something. And we have our eye on a bottle of No. 8 for two years form now…

So we settled on Barefoot Chardonay, which we drank while watching the second installment of the 24 season opener.

It was a great anniversary!

It’s great to finally, again for the first time since I was 1 year old, to have my age digits match the number of audio channels available for my listening pleasure. We didn’t have stereo when I was 2, and neither AC3 nor Quadraphonic existed until well after I was 3. Wow. That was geeky.

So today is my 5.1 birthday.

Anyway, as you can see, I don’t wake up so pretty, but the coffee has a wonderful effect on my waking mood. I am grateful for yet another day, and another year living in this great country, with outstanding children and a satisfying profession. God has been good to me — more than I deserve.

Life is beautiful — even when I am not.

What better to do with ones remaining days. What the heck. I applied. [details]