Cornell business school employees Jon and Lisa thought they were safe. But in one quick click the truth of their affair was revealed. That quick press of the mouse sent all of a steamy and sexual message to every email address on the Cornell University campus. What was meant to be a private “pillow talk” suddenly became a trending topic on Twitter and the web.

It really got me thinking about how communication has changed and how we should change with it. Technology and the advent of email and instant messaging have allowed us to say things and do things we wouldn’t normally consider doing. I’m sure these lovers felt safe emailing their dirty talk back and forth. But were they? Even without accidentally mailing their exchange out how safe was their communication? I guarantee it’s sitting on a server somewhere, now ripe for the plucking by a couple of divorce lawyers.

I’m not casting blame. I’ve made my fair share of bad decisions and being involved with a married woman was one of them. We too were “busted” via online technology. It’s not right, but it happens. Live and learn. Hell, I remember when I was in the military several accidental email communiqués landing in the wrong hands. One of which I thought might end my military career.

I was the editor of a military newspaper and as such, had free and unfettered access to the ‘Net and the email system. My inbox was consistently flooded by things very similar to what I still get today; funny emails, junk, etc. One email really cracked me up though. You clicked on the program and it turned your entire screen flashing red and popped up a box that said “If you DON’T have a small penis, click here.” Well obviously I clicked. There actually was no other option. Suddenly the whole screen starts blinking in neon colors, playing classical music and flashing that “This Guy Has a Small Dick.” I opened this in my office surrounded by coworkers. I laughed it off and after getting over my initial shock everyone had a good time ribbing me about it.

Well I decided I should pass along this little gem of deception to my friends. My buddy Chris was the manager of the local military television stations so I allowed the email system to automatically fill in his address after I simply typed in his name. Mistake. I got a frantic call from some friends who told me there were TWO Chris Kelly’s and guess what? I had just sent the little dick hoax to a Four-Star Army General. Needless to say it was a long few days of waiting to lose my rank…which thankfully never happened. I’m sure that some kindly executive officer saw this and saved my ass. (And if you sir or ma’am ever read this, allow me to take you out for drinks.) To me this could have been just as dangerous and costly as what these two Cornell employees have done. With all this amazing technology comes amazing risk. The point is this; if you don’t want anyone to know, don’t talk about it or put it down to paper or keyboard.

I’ve had to think about this topic a lot as I write and share so much of my life with whoever decides to stop by this site and read about me. Everything online is being stored and saved; my kids can probably find this blog as adults someday and read everything I write. We should all keep that in mind whenever we communicate in today’s World. Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, Email, Instant Messaging and the like are all great services. But if we ever think we are being discreet while using them we should think again. I know Jon and Lisa will.

Its days like today I hate this town. Or more accurately its weekends like this one that I hate. I love my hometown of Tuscaloosa, Alabama. In my opinion it’s the most cultured city in the state of Alabama. We are a great university town. It’s not too big or too small, there are a fair amount of activities and we are just a short drive from the bustling city streets of Birmingham. But for about 5 weeks a year this city becomes unbearable.

The Deep South is home to the full frenzy and fervor of college football. And Tuscaloosa, home of the University of Alabama Crimson Tide, is at the epicenter of that fandom. Now hear me out. I am a massive fan. I was raised on Alabama athletics. I bleed crimson. But as a former student that lives in this city there is nothing that irks me more than the influx of 100,000 plus people that have no intentions of doing anything other than drinking, cheering and congesting traffic.

I know it’s a massive boost for the economy…and I know it helps out the University. But try and do something on a home game weekend. I dare you. Yesterday I spent almost 30 minutes driving two miles. Thank you never ending line of RV’s. You made me late for my appointment. I made the mistake of going to the grocery store also; bad move. I thought I was never going to get out of there. Not to mention they were sold out of half the things I wanted. It was as if people we’re buying before a natural disaster.

I guess I just don’t understand the culture. Maybe living in this city has caused me to miss out on something. Is there something magical about RV’ing to spend the weekend back at your alma mater? I’m torn. I want my hometown back and for Alabama to win. So Roll Tide folks….and then roll out.

It’s taken me a long time to feel like I’m back on “top of my game.” I haven’t really felt complete or successful in six years. I was a newly-minted civilian straight from military service, studying pre-medicine in college. I was killing it. The “Freshman of The Year” at my college and a 4.0 student, I was achieving everything I desired.

But then a funny thing happened – I met a girl. And everything changed. It’s funny how that works. I had a paradigm shift. My priorities and focus changed. (It’s amazing how that happens to a man having sex on a regular basis.) Before I knew it my grades had plummeted, I was married, suddenly out of college and in the working world. Before long I found out I was going to be a father. My entire world had changed in two years.

Don’t let me mislead you into thinking I was unhappy about all this. I was thrilled to be having a child and be married – but something inside of me could never let that dream of medical school die. I always felt like I hadn’t achieved what I was meant to. But over time I came to realize my wife didn’t share the same goals as I did, and for that and a plethora of other reasons, I woke up one day to see she had decided to make like Tom and Cruise.

It took me a good bit longer to get back to being me; to finding who I was and what I wanted. It took lots of beers, a handful of great friends, a half a year in a different city and the help of my faith to finally get back on the right track. And here I am. Amazingly I’ve come full circle.

I’m back in college; albeit older but definitely wiser for the times. And while my dream of one day becoming a doctor seems highly improbable due to my age and responsibilities, I found a middle ground with the Physician’s Assistant program. I finally feel back on top of the World. I am so excited and happy to be able and pick back up where I left off. Every day I get up stoked to go study something I love and get one step closer to becoming the person I want to be. There’s no doubt I will achieve my goals this time around. I just have to stay away from girls.

No one ever told me moving to Atlanta would be easy. Of course, packing up a suitcase and just driving off into the sunset towards a new beginning, a new life – it sounded so perfect. It’s almost like something pulled from the pages of a novel. Applying to work in the gay adult entertainment industry? I don’t remember reading that in a novel…but it’s not really my genre. I’ll get back to that.

There's really nothing wity I can post here...the pic really steals my thunder.

As my video blog mentioned the other day, I was turned down for a janitorial job. That was a really low blow to my self confidence and mental well-being. I’m not really sure why in the hell I was even applying for that position. They were correct in assessing me as overqualified for that job – despite the fact I have the greatest mustache ever. I assumed it would make me look more everyday-kind-of-guy. At this point though, a job is a job. I believe I said that job was as far down as I felt I could fall, but I was wrong. (No offense intended, janitors of the World.) I actually applied a few days back to be a stock worker at a place that stores and distributes gay pornography. Yes, you read that correctly. It’s most definitely not my dream job. Hell…I didn’t even realize such jobs existed. But at this point I’ll do ALMOST any and everything. I never heard back from them. Apparently I’m not qualified for that gig either. It’s probably a good thing. That’s a job you don’t want to have to explain to future employers.

All this time off and job searching has made me realize this: the world doesn’t have that much work for unskilled labor. And unfortunately for me, the things I am skilled in – Public Relations, Marketing, playing music loudly, drinking copious amounts, using cheesy pickup lines on women way out of my league, wasting hours on the Net – it’s very beneficial to be a hot chick, have finished college or more than likely both. (No offense intended, hot chicks of the World) I have never watched gay porn, so I guess I don’t have a background in that field. Maybe that’s why they too didn’t offer me a job.

My buddy Ted called and asked if I would come and help him paint all day tomorrow. He has a condo he’s trying to get ready to rent out. I thought this would be a great opportunity for me to make a little side cash – get a little change in my pocket, if you will. But alas, he wants to pay me in alcohol and food. I’m not sure what that story says about me. I like beer, maybe? Check. It is the nectar of the Gods – as good as cash in my book. Besides, it will break up the monotony that is my last few weeks. Painting while drinking and listening to some good ole’ Southern Rock – it’ll be like I’m right back in Alabama. I can’t wait. And it’s got to be better than stocking porn. So I’ve got that going for me.

As always, be safe, be good and be happy. See you on down the road.

Put that damn iPhone away and quit blogging!

College – It’s worse than I imagined it would be. These kids are, well…kids. Of course, they look so young to me. But worse off, they act so young.
Was I a douchebag when I was 18? Did I act like I didn’t care about anything other than myself and my pursuit of the opposite sex? I can’t answer that question fairly because that’s all I care about still – but I would venture it was.
So why do I care? I guess this class has just made me realize that I am offically not young anymore. Sure, I’m not 40 – but I sure as hell ain’t 18 either.
It’s odd – I walked in feeling vibrant, young and spry. I’ll walk out feeling the exact opposite. Maybe it was time. If being 18 and young means acting like these kids, I’ll keep my age, my gut an my Night Ranger cassettes and like it.
So here I sit in class blogging (thank you WordPress application for my phone!) Oh! Got to run! The teacher is yelling at me to put up my iPhone! And the other kids are laughing because the old guy got in trouble…

It's alright, ladies! I'm studying to be a doctor!

College. Once again I am going to school. I’ve only seriously tried to go to college one time before and I did quite well. However I met a woman and well…my priorities shifted. But here I am, many, many, MANY years later making my triumphant return to the land of frats and football. Honestly, the whole thing has kind of got me freaked out.

I’m not going to school to make friends – what could I possibly have in common with 18-year olds? – I’m going to focus on getting a degree. But I am MUCH older than the kids I’ll be in class with. Approximately 12-years older if I still remember how to do math. That’s a noticeable difference. For God’s sake, these kids don’t know how to denim-wash jeans, they don’t know what Crystal-Clear Pepsi was and worst of all they have NO respect for the A-Team or the Muppets. I am going to officially be the “creepy old guy.”

It’s a strange spot for me to be in. I’ve always felt young at heart, and I realize I’m not actually that old, but relatively speaking I’m ancient. I’m the giant sequoia of school. For God sakes, they’re going to hate me because I’ll study and ruin the curve! Oh well, I’ll have to manage. I won’t be comfortable, but that’s not why I am there. Who knows? I might meet some cool people. I’d like to say I’m going to keep my eye on the prize – getting my degree finally. But I’m a “it’s the journey, not the destination” kind of a guy.

Just remember, especially my younger friends and readers out there, that when you see that old dude in class – be nice to him. We have feelings too. I promise to not ask stupid questions, and I’ll try not to flirt with your women – just don’t grief me too much about the hair growing out of my ears and my frequent trips to the bathroom – the bladder doesn’t work as well as it once did. Hopefully my mind will.