I'd just like to take this time to say Thanks for all the great things in my life, in no particular order.

Thanks for Spencer, who's so adorably cute, who makes me feel so great when he seeks me out in the room, who hides his head in my chest when a stranger's around, who pulls himself up my pant leg wanting me to hold him, who cries when I give him a hug in the playpen then walk out of the room, who wants to be with me and who loves me. Thank you for Spencer.

And thanks for Larry. Not a day passes that I don't share myself with him. No matter what detail, no matter how minute, he listens to what I'm saying. I don't perfectly understand the dynamics of his business exactly and he couldn't write HTML to save his soul, but he knows people and he knows business and he keeps the flame under my butt to keep me going. He is the wind beneath my wings. I just finished hand addressing, stamping, stuffing, and mailing 139 envelopes in a direct mail marketing plan for my company. I never knew that could be so much work and my body was literally sore everywhere last night from trying to make sure everything went perfect... but Larry was there, assuring me that what I was doing was worthwhile, that at least some would respond. And this morning he was there continuing to encourage me to send out similar letters via e-mail. Where I see a try and a failure, he sees the need for perseverence. He knows that my company will fly, "and make millions". I'm not sure, but I thank you for having Larry in my life, to share my life. He often says he doesn't know what he'd do if I weren't around, and I hardly say it back, but he's my rock as much as I am his.

And thank you for my ability to write and for my web site. When I think about what will matter when I'm gone, I have some solace knowing that I've changed lives, that my words will continue to go on changing lives, even after I'm gone. Thank you for allowing me to express myself so "heartfeltedly" and for having the ability to write well. The thought that one day my book will be in the local bookstore is amazing and I'm thankful that what I do is worthwhile enough and my sentences coherent and resonant enough that that's a real possibility. Thank you for allowing me to be someone who's told, "we all need superheroes, even if the powers are as mundane as truthtelling". A "superhero"... thank you for letting me be one.

And thank you for letting me come from a home that was "practically perfect in every way." Most speak of how they never talk to their parents, or talk at most once a week. I'm glad I have a mom I can talk to daily. And while she may not be the brighest candle on the cake, she's definitely the sweetest. It is amazing, as Larry says, that I talk to her daily and she says nothing, but we spent 20 minutes doing so. I can't recall what she said on the phone yesterday: I just know that I talked to her and that she loves me and that's what's important.

And thanks for Dad, too. He doesn't "get much press", but I know each day that he loves me. His decision lately to be more involved with his kids shows that you can teach an old dog new tricks. Not that I had anything to complain about before, but the fact that a sixty-four year old man would realize that he should interact and talk to his kids more is astonishing. He always gave me a hug and said that he loved me when I arrived or left from a trip home, but now he talks to me on the phone instead of giving the phone to Mom after a cursory hello.

And thanks for my brother with whom I never thought I'd get along, but who now trusts me for advice when he's got crabs from some girl he "didn't" sleep with. That's a long way from calling each other names and physically fighting with each other as kids... well, ok, we still call each other names, but it's playful now.

And thanks for all the material goods I have as well. Everything from the car to the computer to my office. Thanks for allowing me to go to the grocery and never buy something based on whether it's on sale. Thanks for allowing me to work for myself, at a job that I love, at something I can do well, that consumes me in that your-own-business kinda way. Thanks for allowing me the luck and opportunity to be born in an age where anyone can be a publisher, where intellectual property is more valuable than manual labor, and where I can be me, gay and all.

Thank you for everything I forgot, and forgive me for not realizing my blessings more often. Life is good. Take care.

Justin