Barely functioning because of a sinus infection, which either resurged once I returned from the East Coast on Wednesday or kicked-in anew once I got back to this allergen hell (little rain, until recently unusually warm, ragweed like crazy, no freeze in sight, and harvesting of all those bone-dry fields going on--plus the usual pollution from the north and--as always--not even the slightest frickin' breeze!). My allergic reactions are becoming so strong here (and I mean, on anything--meaning I don't even weed anymore) that I can even judge which of those scenarios makes sense, because I always feel sick starting the minute I get off the plane here. It is truly odd, and very disheartening, but thank God I feel so much better when I leave. Since this is the first time I've lived in a new house, I wonder about that too, but I tend to discount it due to how much better I feel when the weather changes here. My wife, who grew up here without any medication as aid, warned me this could be the case, but it's turned out a lot worse than I ever could have imagined, to the point where the oldest daughter is having trouble with her choir stuff and ends up medicating a lot more here for what was--in RI--only an exercise-induced asthma. We're considering a Canadian college for her, sort of an easy warm-up for a planned international life, but also to show her how much easier life would be for her in a colder clime. I will be living in the North Pole about the time global warming peaks later in my life. Not to make it all sound bad. I pushed my youngest in a buggy (Burley) for a 5k race Friday night that was a lot of fun. Kev ran a relaxed pace and finished second in his age group, and Jerry ran a 3.1-mile best (27:03) to place third in ten-and-under. I would have taken 6th place male 45-49, but the race official forgot to give Jerry his stick, so I gave him mine (Mei Mei and I finished right behind) and got the correct time recorded for him. But even during the race, which was at a very cool dusk, I could tell I was going downhill in my throat. It just bugs me that I have almost no slack here in Indiana after I spent three surgeries over four years in RI to create a ton of it out there. But here, I'm back to that thin slice of living where, if I make the slightest error, I'm in the penalty box fast. And there really aren't any surgeries left for me. At this point, it's just clean living and the right air and protecting myself as much as possible given the heavy travel. But again, it's just so obvious living here and traveling a lot that it's the "here" that's my main problem. I'm just certain I'd be a better husband and dad if I lived somewhere else, and as soon as that thought creeps into my head, my Indy days were numbered. If not for a HS senior year coming up, I would be plotting for next summer, but that's what you get when you go down on your knees and inform God that a five-year-survival rate for a two-year-old with an advanced case of cancer just isn't going to be good enough. Hmm. Reminds me that that book is still sitting around, collecting dust. . . Soon . . . soon. In Enterra's Reston office last week for a series of meetings with other companies. Despite the financial crisis, our outlook remains bold (indeed, the crisis hardly hurts arguments for taming complexity). We will need to become a very large entity in a year or so. Business is clearly looking for new models, and Enterra presents a nifty cornerstone for a lot of different angles. Then there's simply the reality of the pipeline. Either way, we've got to grow magnificently--and fast. It is stunning to behold and even more fun to work, alongside Steve. There is that fantastic feeling of building something so big--that being there "at the creation" feeling that's hard to beat. I am so glad I got the book done when I did, as I think life will change dramatically for us. Along those lines, Vonne and I increasingly target the summer of 2010 to return back East, and Maine is considered the prime landing zone. Having lived in a bunch of states now (WI, MA, MD, VA, RI, IN) and traveled this country more than I ever imagined I would, Maine appears to be our answer. Yes, I know there's pine pollen, but for me, at least, that's not the big problem anymore, but rather an issue for two weeks in the spring. I guess that just living with Vonne for so long means we start to resemble each other physically, like my biological clock has been reset. Anyway, Vonne has researched this to an unreal degree (she can tell you the basic stats on any major/mid-sized city in America), like she does everything else in our lives (I talked her into Indy--yet another sign that I should avoid strategic planning in my own life!), and since she's done taking in inputs from me (smart choice), sh/we've narrowed it down to a number of coastal cities in Maine. Which means we've already got a realtor for considering a land purchase and just getting us attuned to the possibility of existing houses. I gotta admit, just looking at the photos reminds me of the air there, and I do miss it--the sharpness and moisture and the wind. It stuns to miss wind so much, but I do. I just love blustery. I also miss seeing the ocean all the time. I miss the idea of a boat and exploring around tiny islands on the coast. I miss my Boston whaler, rented at the Naval War College. I miss all craggy coastline--especially in the fall. I just really like New England. The pattern seems clear enough. Liked growing up in Wisconsin, but loved going to grad school in Boston. Disliked MD and Virginny, but then loved moving back up to the island. Now hate Indy and dream of Maine. I'm stopping the yo-yo. Working with Enterra has given me the freedom to do this time near Vonne's mom, but the cost is proving too high. I simply cannot function well like this, and I can see all the difficulty in my kids' eyes (which often look like I punch them out or something--that purply raccoon tint that ring the bottom). I'm back to sneezing a lot, something I gave up after my RI surgeries to the point where I forgot what it was like to sneeze ten times every morning I woke up. Now I listen to my youngest son do it, and I feel bad for him. I watch Kevin become this fantastic runner and realize he's doing it all while feeling like crap, so what would it be like if he didn't feel bad? Ditto for Emily's singing. It really does depress me and gets me more excited about roll-up possibilities with Enterra (both above and below) that should logically force me back to the upper East Coast. I almost want a clause put in the contract! But I also am just so desirous of seeing this thing through, now after being with the company since the summer of 05. There is a real thrill to making something grow like that. I feel all mavericky! Plus it's just been so interesting--fascinating really--to plot and scheme and plan and build and sell with Steve all this time (Steve is a natural teacher, so you learn a lot just hanging with him). It is very empowering to be an entrepreneur. There is an excitement there that you just can't find when just drawing a salary from a big company. I've been earning most of my money in an eat-what-you-kill environment for just over a decade, meaning I live and die on performance: you like and you continue to buy, you don't and I'm in trouble. I love the contingency aspect of that. I enjoy the discipline and the fear. It keeps me alive, especially right now when I feel like I could sleep most of the day. Anyway, on a different antibiotic this round. Between Em's chemo and my many sinus/ear problems, I've become a strange expert on antibiotics (most chemo is classified antibiotic, believe it or not). I don't advise anybody to replicate my hard-won knowledge, because it's a bad way to spend your time. If I wasn't so damn healthy ever other way, I'd really would get depressed, but since I've had these problems since way before kindergarten, I simply know no other life. I just know where I want to spend it. Much writing looms: a piece for Mark and Esquire (first of a bunch), a quick one this time for Good, the usual column and getting caught up on the posts. Then I expect the book to show up not much more than a week from now. Spent Thursday doing a host of new corrections, aided by my mother-in-law (whose eye for typos is unreal) and Lexington Green, who is helping me trim back some arguments and refine them. Lawyers really are tremendous editors when it comes to logic. My sister Cathie, another lawyer, was really my first writing coach and I learned a ton from her regarding paragraph construction, which is really all about logic. Anyhow, going to chill today and make more posts happen until the Pack game begins. Hoping to beat those Colts but not sure we can. Two good teams experiencing weird years, but I always like desperation at home. Ah, last point. Shot of me atop the blog was done by great photographer (Connie Dawson) of Terre Haute. This is the nicest smiling picture of me ever, in the sense that that is really what I look like in person. When you have a lot of photos taken of you over the year, or appear a bunch on TV, you realize how strangely flattening those perspectives are, so when you get something that really does capture you, you're ecstatic. BTW, the shine on the forehead is considering a sign of great fortune among the Chinese--meaning success. I have no idea why. Nyren and Putnam went with a different photo from the bunch--a bit more somber, but the minute I saw this one I knew exactly where it would go. So my great gratitude to her. Funny thing is, I had a sinus infection when the shot was taken. Very apropos.