No matter what…

…I still cheer for UT (University of Tennessee) college football…


Better Than Your Last Meal

Hi. I’m Matthew Broderick.

You may remember me from such classic movies as “The Night We Never Met” or “On Valentine’s Day.”

Just kidding.

Most of you know me as the smart aleck kid from “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.”

I’m here to tell you about a new weekly home meal delivery service tailored specifically to your unique tastes.

We call it:

Better Than Your Last Meal

Every week we search the planet for a species about to go extinct.

Why let the last of its kind suffer an agonizing, lonely death?

Instead, let us humanely prepare these animals for you, served with side dishes of plants that no longer have a natural environment.

As we say in our line of business, this is an offer you can’t refuse!

Happy eating, everyone!


During our 10-day holiday, one of the aquaria at home was fouled up when the automatic fish food feeder flooded the surface with flake food and the filter/pump clogged up.

I lost the Borleyi and thought every fish had died.

I cleaned the detritus out of the aquarium and saw no sign of the plecostomus last night.

Today I walked by the aquarium and there was the plecostomus, bright and golden as ever…

Back to the bog

Where do you get your sustenance?

I don’t get sustenance from working in a job, eating, talking or sleeping.

My sustenance comes to me from one source only: the natural surroundings.

Today I regained some inner strength whilst walking along the bog, not nearly as much sustenance as I would’ve liked but enough to get me through the week cooped up in warehouse packing medical supplies.

Autumn has touched the bog!

A writer’s perspective

Last week we visited the Stanley Hotel, which inspired Stephen King to write “The Shining.”

I now see his novel is a self-condemnation of Stephen King’s admitted alcoholism, after watching last night his teleplay version in a TV miniseries of “The Shining.”

When I read the novel as a teenager I didn’t know about the “evils” of alcoholism.

Kudos to Stephen King for making lots of money on his semiautobiography of the effects of alcoholism on families.

What is next?

When I retired at age 45 from active corporate life, my wife and I had built a $1m investment portfolio. Now, at age 57, we’ve hit the $3m mark.

My body is tired, sore and aerobically out of shape. No cure for tinnitus, the constant buzzing and thumping sounds in my head torturing me while I’m awake, little to distract me from the sounds, even quiet conversation makes the buzzing/whistling louder over time.

So weird being here at this moment, my wife the only friend I communicate with daily, no goals, no plans, living day to day, ready to die.

Money does not make me happy.

Our cats are happy, it seems, free room and board, a place to warm in sunshine on the back porch…

…I don’t know how to have fun anymore, despite the funds to travel and see new places — Earth has lost its openness, too crowded with the presence of humans.

My thoughts have explored all interesting paths.

Decades more of wake-eat-sleep-repeat.

My boss at work said why don’t I spend part of the investment money on a new motorcycle or something like that. He can’t understand my innate feeling of not deserving to live, a feeling deeper than depression, a feeling most of us harbor that says we ought to share this garden paradise of a planet with fellow living things or better yet, remove humans to other planets and leave this one behind to evolve without us.

Doesn’t a planet like Earth deserve a human-free environment?

I live and wait to die. Patience is my only virtue. Decades to go before I sleep no more.