To Whom It May Concern:

Unfortunately, it seems as though my vast network of contacts does not extend into CBS.  As such, I’m hoping that this message finds someone willing to forward it to the appropriate party for follow-up; I would greatly appreciate a response.

On December 18th, 1989, CBS aired what I believe to be the best MacGyver episode ever written.  That episode, The Madonna (5.11), is not currently available online and I’d like to request that it be made so.

When I was a child, I grew up watching MacGyver–making sure not to miss a single episode.  And, while there were many outstanding episodes, The Madonna means as much to me today as when I first saw it those twenty one years ago.

You see, in 1989 my mother and father were divorced, and my sister and I were forced to move across the country.  At that time, I was eight years old, and it was the first time in my life that I was unable to be with my father and our family for Christmas.

Accordingly, when I first watched The Madonna, I felt much of the same sadness and aloneness that was shared by several characters in the show. However, as with most MacGyver episodes, good overcame and albeit for the fact that I was far away from my father, I was left with a more positive attitude and optimistic outlook toward Christmas and to the future.  While Christmas came and went, I never saw my father again–he died due to an industrial accident four months later.

When Christmas came around the following year, I was still quite upset, but I remembered how The Madonna made me feel and I realized how much more I now had in common with it, so I watched it again.  In fact, I’ve watched it every year since then, and it always leaves me with an optimistic outlook.  It is for this reason that I respectfully request that you consider putting the aforementioned episode online so that others may enjoy it as much as I have.

Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,

Jonah H. Harris

A clip from the episode is on YouTube.

Without going into detail, a situation unfolded itself in front of me earlier today.  Though, it is not the event itself which has consumed my thoughts, but instead, my reaction.

In my life, I have experienced and worked through several major hardships, but this single, simple event has made me call into question my own nature, ethics, and character.  At this very moment, I find myself unable to make sense of how or why I failed to live up to what I believed would be an almost instinctive reaction.  Is it that I had set a false expectation for myself?  Is it that I let the actions of others influence my behavior?  Or, is it more than that altogether?

Prior to this event, I felt confident of how I would react in various difficult situations.  But, it wasn’t until the situation occurred that I realized how one’s perceptions and expectations of oneself can be so very far away from reality.

In the past, I’d watch TV shows like What Would You Do?, and jump at the chance to criticize those who didn’t act, claiming almost boastfully that I would have taken action in those situations.  Now, I realize that thinking I will act doesn’t necessarily guarantee I will do so, and that when a similar situation occurs in the future, I need to summon the courage and resolve I once had in younger years and act accordingly.

While this has been an arduous experience which will weigh heavily on my mind for days to come, the forced introspection will no doubt lead to a new degree of personal enlightenment.

Andrew & Olivia Selby

While I’ve upgraded my personal site to use WordPress, I felt strongly about carrying-forward a single item from my previous home page; a post about a friend, co-worker, artist, and loving father, Andrew Selby, who was diagnosed with Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia on July 8, 2003 and passed away on July 6, 2004.

Andrew was a great, funny, and optimistic guy who I met at Albuqerque TVI (now Central New Mexico Community College).  After my stint at Ethicon Endo-Surgery, I had been working for TEKsystems when I received a call from Andrew Selby and Rich Black regarding a project for migrating Microsoft Frontpage sites from WindowsNT to Linux.  The phone call went really well, and I was contracted to provide a self-service tool which allowed departments to migrate their own sites to Linux.  During the project, I had fun working with Andrew and Rich, but the contract was soon over, and I went back to the commercial world.  Some time later, I received an email from Andrew stating that a UNIX administrator position was going to be posted and that if I wanted to come back to TVI, I should apply for it.

Andrew Hugging Olivia

After some initial hesitation, I decided to meet Andrew for lunch just to catch up on things.  It was at that point when I realized that I really would enjoy working at TVI and applied accordingly.  My interview went well, and I soon joined the UNIX team.  While I didn’t get the chance to work with Andrew every day, we would occasionally work on the same projects or go out to lunch.  One of those few projects I got to work with Andrew on was his Website Redesign Project.

Andrew and his team (Andrew Miesem and Jonahlyn Gilstrap) were dedicated to developing an entirely new website for the college.  In fact, it was Andrew himself that had designed the new site, put the required RFPs together, and eventually succeeded in purchasing all of the software and hardware needed to make his plan a reality.  Unfortunately, Andrew fell ill before all of the work could be completed.

Out of respect to Andrew, I decided to take on his previous position and aid Jonahlyn in completing his vision.  Along with a couple new web developers, Jonahlyn and I worked hard to complete Andrew’s work and released the new site on July 6, 2005, a year after Andrew’s death.  While Andrew’s original design is no longer in use, the infrastructure and foundation he built are still in place.  I believe Andrew would’ve been proud to see how he shaped not only the institution itself, but also those he worked with.

Lori and Olivia placing a brick in honor of Andrew at Casa Esperanza, a support organization for families facing cancer.

When I remember Andrew, I remember what an excellent artist and creative person he was.  I still clearly recall one of the last personal projects he discussed with me, ToonPang.  Andrew (Selby), Andrew Miesem, and I went to lunch at Frontier where we discussed ToonPang, his idea for an interactive, community-oriented collaborative cartoon system based on a modified version of OekakiPoteto.  Just a few days ago, I ran across a folder which contained the basic requirements, design, and flowcharts he gave me over 5 years ago.  One day, I hope to get the time to develop it.

At the time of his passing, I decided to compose something for Andrew.  Given that I hadn’t known him very long, I tried to focus on remembering some of the laughs we shared and on his creativity and optimism.  The sheet music for A Life Once Lived, can be found here.

Rest in peace Andrew, we miss you.

When I was young, my parents divorced.  While I was certainly sad, I don’t recall ever having been angry about it.  After the divorce, my sister and I lived with our mom and visited our dad quite often.  In front of my sister and me, my mom and dad always got along and never said anything negative about one another.  To us, our dad just lived at another house.  In those days, we didn’t have much money, but we made do with what we had and were relatively happy.

As time progressed, my mom got remarried and me, my sister, my mom, and my step-dad moved to Connecticut.  The last time we visited my dad before leaving, while visibly upset, he told us how much he loved us, that he would always love us, and that he would try to get us to come back down and visit him.

Aside from the fact that we were very young and it would’ve been difficult to travel, my dad couldn’t easily afford to have us visit him.  Nevertheless, throughout the year he would send us letters and talk to us on the phone.  Then, one fateful day, my sister and I were dismissed from school early.

I remember my mom crying as she told us that something had happened to our dad; that he was badly hurt in an industrial accident.  I remember my mom, my sister, and I going to Albuquerque to visit the hospital he was admitted to.  When we arrived, we entered his room.

To this day, I recall precisely what he looked like lying on the bed attached to the machines.  I remember the overall feeling of sadness from everyone.  I remember that my sister and I had drawn him get well cards.  I remember that I wanted to talk to him.  I remember hoping, for more than anything in the world, that he would get better.  After a short while though, it was obvious that he would never recover from his injuries. My dad died when I was eight years old.

While memory seems to fade over time, I still have many fond memories of my dad.  I remember my first BB-gun and him teaching me how to shoot.  I remember him teaching my sister and me to ride a horse and how to lasso.  I remember a couple of times that we went to his house and drank coffee, ate Star Crunches, and he made us some awesomely-seasoned cooked-to-perfection french fries!  Every once in awhile he would even let me steer his truck down the empty dirt road to his house.  He also directed a little spoof of Young Guns which my sister and I starred in!  If I think hard enough, I can even remember what he smelled like.  My dad was great.  We had a lot of fun with him and to this day I’ll never doubt that he loved us; I miss him very much.

Earlier this evening, as I have done with all my kids over the past seven years, I cuddled with my now three-and-a-half year old Isabella as she went to sleep.  I looked into her eyes and told her what a good girl she is, how much I love her, that I will always love her, and that I’m glad to have her in my life.

You never know when your last chance will be to hold, hug, or talk to someone you love.  While leaving behind a reputation or mark on civilization would be nice, more than anything else in this world, the only thing I care about is for my kids to know how much I loved them.

While the scientific and logical side of me says that it’s unlikely that God exists, I have seen and experienced things which cannot currently be explained by science.  As such, I am always hopeful that, when it’s my time to go, I will get to see my dad again and watch down on my kids as they live their own lives.

Money creates opportunity, but a life without love is not worth living.  You only get one life and it may be cut short.  Be sure to cherish it.

Her cloth fit for gods, she wove with great pride.
With talent and fame, her humility elide.
Then one fateful day, she spoke and decried,
the gift of Athena; a contest betide.

When later that evening, it came to pass,
that Arachne was forced into an impossible impasse.
For an elderly woman, all dressed in rags,
had knocked on her door, and called on her brags.

Then all of a sudden, a beauty appeared.
‘Twas the goddess Athena, standing revered.
A battle began, the outcome divided,
for Athena had woven the gods’ deeds delighted.
While her work was grand, Arachne’s was superior,
but her images cast the gods’ deeds inferior.

Outraged, Athena then raised up her arm,
planning Arachne quite serious harm.
For her talent and gift, Arachne was rewarded.
To spin webs forever, her pride had been thwarted.

Instead we’ll stand,
your hand in-hand,
for life one must consume.

He awoke. Surprised to be alive, he found himself lying on his chest. His khakis were blood-soaked and tattered.  His skin was cold, clammy, and wrinkled from hiding beneath the moist underbrush. He wasn’t sure how long he had been there, but he was starving and his entire body ached. His mouth was dry and his lips were cracked. Needing to find out whether he had finally made it out, he painfully raised his head.

Looking around, eyes still unfocused, he could detect movement in the distance. Still blurry, he could make out nothing more than a shadowy figure several hundred feet away. Whatever it was, it paused. He could feel it looking at him; it had sensed his movement as well. After a moment, it began to move slowly toward him, steadily picking up speed. With each step it came closer. The ground shook while twigs snapped and leaves were easily crushed beneath its swift, heavy feet. As its eyes met his, it stopped. He became paralyzed with fear.

Unable to move, his eyes had now focused and he was able to look upon the figure now standing directly in front of him. Through the dense jungle canopy, rays of sunshine pierced down to reveal the horror of its hideous and ghastly face. With each heavy breath it let out a low, muffled grunt. Its humid, putrid breath wafted across his face and found its way into his nose. His stomach turned and he instantly became nauseous.

As he started to become lightheaded, the creature sensed his weakness and would wait no longer. Slowly barring its sharp jagged teeth, it began to growl. It was that same unfortunate and unmistakable sound he had heard just days before. It was a sound followed only by the screams of slow and painful death.