Starting all over again

Maybe it's the heat, or maybe it's just that I've become a mean, crotchety old bastard.

Whatever the reason, I deleted all my earlier blogs -- except the one that I set up for my high school graduating class -- earlier today. I hadn't been posting to them anyway, so what was the point?

I've come to the conclusion that what I say about politics doesn't really matter anyway. I've been shooting verbal darts at Our Dubya for more than seven years, and his term is going to end at the same time it would have ended if I had been praising him all that time.

Rush Limbaugh is richer than ever, Ann Coulter still hasn't been outed as a transsexual and Wal-Mart is still expanding all over the world.

Editor's note: Face it, you weren't meant to be a political philosopher.

Hey, face it yourself. You weren't meant to join Warren Jeffs' cult and marry both Olsen Twins.

Editor's note: That's just plain mean.

You asked for it. At any rate, I'm just past the halfway point of what has been a pretty unspectacular year so far. I got fired in January and haven't had any luck finding work, my dad died in March, my old friend Walter Masterson died in April and we're moving out of our house into an apartment at the end of this month.

Compared to that, the judge telling you that you have to stay 500 yards away from Ashley Olsen really isn't that big a deal.

Besides, I still have a number of good things happening in my life, and becoming a grandfather this fall is at the top of the list. My amazing daughter Pauline is due to have her first child -- a girl -- in about two months. Pauline is stationed in Beijing, about halfway through a two-year tour, and we'll be going over there to visit her a week or two after little Abigail Nicole Kastner is born.

It isn't as if I'm not ready. If I were 48, the thought of being a grandfather would probably fill me with more than a little dread. But at my more advanced age -- closer to 60 than to 50 -- I'm hopeful I'll have the chance to be around to see my first grandchild enjoy a good part of her life.

I'm also pretty darn proud of my wonderful son. Virgile's push forward is a little bit on hold right now as he tries to decide that the next step will be, and he has devoted this year to physical fitness.

He ran in the Los Angeles Marathon in March, and finished in less than 3 1/2 hours, which is pretty spectacular for someone running 26 miles, 385 yards for the first time. He's building on that success by competing in triathlons, and his goal is to compete in a worldwide Ironman Triathlon next summer in Nice, France.

Editor's note: There's a town in France called "nice?"

Actually, they pronounce it "neece," and before you ask, yes, the restraining order applies there too.

Editor's note: Dang.

An ironman triathlon involves a two-mile open water swim, a 115-mile bicycle ride and then a marathon run. For me that would be about six months worth of exercise, but they complete it all the same day.

Anyway, I'm incredibly proud of Virgile, who has a blog of his own set up to track his progress. And maybe it's just that I'm getting old, but I've come to the conclusion that what I've done to help my children grow into the wonderful adults they are is a lot more important than anything I ever wrote about politics.

So that's what this blog is going to be about.

What really matters.

All that matters.