<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751070216627568985</id><updated>2007-12-10T21:20:15.230-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Sandman's Domain</title><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.thesandman.com/'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751070216627568985/posts/default'/><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.thesandman.com/atom.xml'/><author><name>Sandman</name></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>6</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751070216627568985.post-5558104853362157776</id><published>2007-12-07T19:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T20:08:12.576-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>A New Direction</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;I left Berkeley in December 2001 and moved back to Oakhurst. Oakhurst was a place I never planned to move back to. After living in Berkeley for 5 years, I guess I just missed living in a small town. Also, I really wanted to be in business for myself. There were many reasons for my decision. So anyway, I decided that it would be best for me to move back to the mountains.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;It was a fairly easy move and I was happy to be back in Oakhurst. After taking a few weeks off, I started my new business. During those few months, I reconnected with old friends, made new friends and had a great time. I wasn't quite prepared to retire at the age of 23, so it was time to get back to work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Oakhurst Online was formed in October of 2002. While working out of my home office, I developed dozens of websites for local residents and businesses. It was enough to make a living and I had flexible hours. After this, I never wanted to go back to work for some large corporation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.thesandman.com/images/oc-spotlight.jpg" align="left"&gt;Now it's time to really gear up and get some things accomplished. Corky and Scott opened Oakhurst Computers last month and made me their General Manager. In addition to helping them out with the store, I can continue to run the web business I started five years ago. I'm very excited about this opportunity and am enjoying going to an office every day. I'm definitely not retired. In fact, I'm working six days a week and am busier than ever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;Scott and Corky are incredibly intelligent and are fun to work with. I'll learn a lot from them and perhaps teach them a thing or two. The store was very busy today and we have only been open for a few weeks. I'm confident that this will be a successful venture for all three of us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;If you are wondering why you don't see me playing around town as much these days, it's because I'm working.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div  style="width: 240px; color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;h4&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Bob Marley - Work lyrics&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt;We, Jah people, can make it work;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; Come together and make it work, yeah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; We can make it work;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; We can make it work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; Five days to go: working for the next day;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; Four days to go: working for the next day;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; Say we got: three days to go now: working for the next day;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; Two days to go (ooh): working for the next day, yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; Say we got: one day to go: working for the -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; Every day is work - work - work - work!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; We can make it work;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; We can make it work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; ---&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; /Short guitar break/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; ---&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; We, Jah people, can make it work;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; Come together and make it work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; We can make it work;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; We can make it work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; We got: five days to go work, oh! - working for the next day, eh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; Four days to go: working for the -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; Three days to go now: working for the next day, yeah!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; Two days to go: working for the next day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; Say we got: one day to go now: working for -&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; Every day is work, wotcha-wa!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; (Work!) I work in the mid-day sun;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; (Work!) I work till the evening come!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; (Work!) If ya ain't got nothing to do!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; (Work!) Ooh-ooh-ooh-oo-oo-ooh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 153, 0);font-family:arial;" &gt; (Work!) /fadeout/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.thesandman.com/2007/12/new-direction.html' title='A New Direction'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751070216627568985&amp;postID=5558104853362157776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.thesandman.com/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751070216627568985/posts/default/5558104853362157776'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751070216627568985/posts/default/5558104853362157776'/><author><name>Sandman</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751070216627568985.post-8295589142895569470</id><published>2007-02-10T13:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T14:00:26.458-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When I'm Gone</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:78%;" &gt;Persons with RA are two times more likely to die than persons of the same age without&lt;br /&gt;RA in the general population&lt;br /&gt;[Wolfe F, Mitchell DM, Siblety JT et al. The mortality of rheumatoid arthritis. Arthritis Rheum, 1994;37(4):481-494].&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:78%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;3 DOORS DOWN LYRICS&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;"When I'm Gone"&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's another world inside of me&lt;br /&gt;That you may never see&lt;br /&gt;There're secrets in this life&lt;br /&gt;That I can't hide&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere in this darkness&lt;br /&gt;There's a light that I can't find&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it's too far away...&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I'm just blind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I'm just blind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;[Chorus]&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So hold me when I'm here&lt;br /&gt;Right me when I'm wrong&lt;br /&gt;Hold me when I'm scared&lt;br /&gt;And love me when I'm gone&lt;br /&gt;Everything I am&lt;br /&gt;And everything in me&lt;br /&gt;Wants to be the one&lt;br /&gt;You wanted me to be&lt;br /&gt;I'll never let you down&lt;br /&gt;Even if I could&lt;br /&gt;I'd give up everything&lt;br /&gt;If only for your good&lt;br /&gt;So hold me when I'm here&lt;br /&gt;Right me when I'm wrong&lt;br /&gt;You can hold me when I'm scared&lt;br /&gt;You won't always be there&lt;br /&gt;So love me when I'm gone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love me when I'm gone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When your education X-Ray&lt;br /&gt;Cannot see under my skin&lt;br /&gt;I won't tell you a damn thing&lt;br /&gt;That I could not tell my friends&lt;br /&gt;Roaming through this darkness&lt;br /&gt;I'm alive but I'm alone&lt;br /&gt;Part of me is fighting this&lt;br /&gt;But part of me is gone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;[Chorus]&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I'm just blind...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;[Chorus]&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love me when I'm gone...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love me when I'm gone&lt;br /&gt;When I'm Gone&lt;br /&gt;When I'm Gone&lt;br /&gt;When I'm Gone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td valign="top"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://thesandman.com/photos/matcomputer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://thesandman.com/photos/matcomputers.jpg" border="1" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that people know when they are going to die. Even if you can't admit it to yourself or others around you, there is a part of you that knows your fate. I have never been able to picture myself as an old man. Maybe that's normal for everyone or maybe it's a part of me that knows my fate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good friend of mine reminded me that I told her a few years ago that I would probably only be around until I was about 40 or so. I probably shouldn't have said anything like that because I think it was more troubling for her to hear than for me to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be honest with you, I don't really want to be an old man. My disease progresses every day and I can't imagine living life as an 80 year old man in a wheelchair. I'm not saying that I'm giving up. In fact, I'm doing the opposite. I am focusing more on my health and am determined to make the time I have on this planet the best I can. Perhaps my attitude will change in 10 years. I guess it all depends on my health.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main point I want to make here is that I love my life, family and friends and am very thankful for the time I have here with them. Let's make the time we have on this planet the best we can and enjoy every day as if it's our last. One day, it will be the last.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my time comes, I want my friends and family to be happy that I had the opportunity to live my life for as long as I did and I want them to remember all of the great times we had together. I'm thankful for the life I was given.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.thesandman.com/2007/02/here-without-you.html' title='When I&apos;m Gone'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751070216627568985&amp;postID=8295589142895569470' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.thesandman.com/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751070216627568985/posts/default/8295589142895569470'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751070216627568985/posts/default/8295589142895569470'/><author><name>Sandman</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751070216627568985.post-7313643408453257367</id><published>2007-01-30T15:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-10T15:17:13.373-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A few hundred years too late....</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="http://thesandman.com/photos/pirate.jpg" align="right" /&gt;I think everyone goes through a time in their life when they think about the era they live in and what they would have become if they were born during a different time. For many years, I thought I was born at the perfect place and time. Now I'm not so sure. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy with my life, my friends and family. However, how fun would it have been to be a pirate born a few hundred years ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, stop laughing at me and listen up for a minute. I have yet to meet a person that doesn't like to travel. And who doesn't like fortune? A pirate lives to explore the world in search of treasure. Who wouldn't want to run around wearing a long coat, huge hat, sword in one hand, bottle of Rum in the other and parrot on shoulder? I don't know about you, but that sounds like a blast to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I put enough thought into that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;A Pirate Looks At Forty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Jimmy Buffett&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;1974&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Wanted to sail upon your waters since I was three feet tall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Youve seen it all, youve seen it all&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Watched the men who rode you switch from sails to steam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;And in your belly you hold the treasures few have ever seen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Most of em dream, most of em dream&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Yes I am a pirate, two hundred years too late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;The cannons dont thunder, theres nothin to plunder&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Im an over-forty victim of fate&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Arriving too late, arriving too late&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Ive done a bit of smugglin, Ive run my share of grass&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;I made enough money to buy miami, but I pissed it away so fast&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Never meant to last, never meant to last&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;And I have been drunk now for over two weeks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;I passed out and I rallied and I sprung a few leaks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;But I got stop wishin, got to go fishin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Down to rock bottom again&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Just a few friends, just a few friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;(instrumental)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;I go for younger women, lived with several awhile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Though I ran em away, theyd come back one day&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Still could manage to smile&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Just takes a while, just takes a while&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Mother, mother ocean, after all the years Ive found&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;My occupational hazard being my occupations just not around&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;I feel like Ive drowned, gonna head uptown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Coda:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;I feel like Ive drowned, gonna head uptown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.thesandman.com/2007/01/few-hundred-years-too-late.html' title='A few hundred years too late....'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751070216627568985&amp;postID=7313643408453257367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.thesandman.com/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751070216627568985/posts/default/7313643408453257367'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751070216627568985/posts/default/7313643408453257367'/><author><name>Sandman</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751070216627568985.post-2289442091177620010</id><published>2007-01-16T14:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T15:50:32.277-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Early Years (Part II)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I grew up in a yellow, three-bedroom home in Mission Hills. For those of you unfamiliar with Southern California, this is in the San Fernando Valley of the greater Los Angeles Area. My Parents, my Sister and I lived in this house until 1988 (I was 10 years old).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;Our house had a front yard with grass and a porch with a lot of Ivy growing up the posts. My bedroom window was at the front of the house and my sisters bedroom was next to mine. Our parents were in the back of the house on the other side of the kitchen. We had a good sized backyard that was fenced in for the dogs and a detached garage that was transformed into a music studio. I often played out back when my cousins came over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;The house next door to us was like a jungle. There were so many gardens with beautiful flowers all year long. I remember picking the little white ones next to our driveway and bringing them to my Mother. I also remember the house at the end of the street that looked haunted. I never saw anyone go in or out. Then there was the abandoned house a few houses down from us. We had fun in there.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;It was a fun neighborhood to grow up in with a lot of kids to play with. My sister and the other kids would ride their scooters and bicycles around the neighborhood. Since I was unable to bend my knees, I would sit my little butt down on my little red skateboard. With my legs out on front of me, I would push myself along with my hands. I rode on the sidewalk and wore gloves so that my hands wouldn't get blisters. I was able to keep up with the other kids pretty well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;The most fun childhood game was when we played "Town". All of the neighborhood kids would setup their own home business and open it up to the other children. For example, Brian would often have an arcade since his garage was well equipped with games. Give him a dollar and you could go play games for 15 minutes or so. Another neighbor, Steve, would usually go to the corner store to buy a bunch of candy and setup a restaurant in his backyard. One time, I remember him performing for his guests by lip-singing to Billy Idol. My sister usually ran a hotel at our house, renting out her and my bedrooms by the minute. Looking back, it sounds a bit scandalous. But I was often the local sheriff, so I kept things in line and often guarded my sisters cash register from the local robbers.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" &gt;I'd hang out with the other kids, but my sister was my best friend. Due to joint pain, there were many days that I was unable to run the streets and had to entertain myself at home. When I was very young I played with "Little People" and "Hot Wheels". Sometimes, my sister and I would dance around lip-singing and acting out music videos to our favorite songs. We would rarely argue. In fact, I think even our parents would agree that we were very well behaved children. I can only remember a few arguments between us.&lt;a href="http://thesandman.com/photos/mathew.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://thesandman.com/photos/mathews.jpg" title="Mathew at a Dr appointment" border="0" align="right"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had weekly visits to my doctor in Hollywood and spent many summers in the hospital there. My sister was right along side me during this and I look back and realize how much that helped. Growing up with J.R.A. was not easy and I know that it must have been very difficult for the other members of my family.&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.thesandman.com/2007/01/early-years-part-ii.html' title='The Early Years (Part II)'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751070216627568985&amp;postID=2289442091177620010' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.thesandman.com/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751070216627568985/posts/default/2289442091177620010'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751070216627568985/posts/default/2289442091177620010'/><author><name>Sandman</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751070216627568985.post-7803617496440625403</id><published>2007-01-12T00:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-12T01:21:53.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleeping habits</title><content type='html'>&lt;table&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td valign="top" width="50%"&gt;I only have time for a quick blog before bed. It's about 12:30 in the morning and it has been a quiet night at home. I got a bit of work done and played on the Internet a bunch. Now I am thinking about sleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not so sure why I want to sleep. I'm not tired. I slept in very late today and am pretty well rested. I think I just want to go to sleep so that I can get back to a normal sleeping cycle. Yeah, right! Like that is ever going to be possible. LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why do I enjoy staying up so late? It probably has to do with my disease. It takes me awhile to get moving in the morning. Some mornings are worse than others, of course. But in general, mornings are difficult for me. That's when I feel the pain for all the things I did the previous day. If I'm on my feet a lot one day, I can expect to have a rough time the following morning. It can take several hours just to get out of bed. On bad days, I'm lucky if I make it to the couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the most part, night time is my best time. My joints are loose and I'm able to move around pretty good. When I am feeling good, it's hard for me to go to sleep. I dread how I am going to feel the next morning. On the other hand, there are nights when I am in so much pain that I can't sleep at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I feel fortunate that I don't have much pain and I should be able to fall asleep pretty quickly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am reminded of a Metallica song... "Until It Sleeps". Some say that the song is about drug abuse, while others argue that James wrote it to help deal with the death of his father, who died from cancer. Either way, it's about something that controls the body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on that note, it's time for Sandman to sleep.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: right;" valign="top"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(85, 136, 102); font-style: italic;font-family:arial;font-size:78%;"  &gt;Where do I take this pain of mine&lt;br /&gt;I run but it stays right by my side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tear me open and pour me out&lt;br /&gt;There's things inside that scream and shout&lt;br /&gt;And the pain still hates me&lt;br /&gt;So hold me until it sleeps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just like the curse, just like the stray&lt;br /&gt;You feed it once and now it stays&lt;br /&gt;Now it stays&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tear me open but beware&lt;br /&gt;There's things inside without a care&lt;br /&gt;And the dirt still stains me&lt;br /&gt;So wash me until I'm clean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It grips you so hold me&lt;br /&gt;It stains you so hold me&lt;br /&gt;It hates you so hold me&lt;br /&gt;It holds you so hold me&lt;br /&gt;Until it sleeps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tell me why you've chosen me&lt;br /&gt;Don't want your grip&lt;br /&gt;Don't want your greed&lt;br /&gt;Don't want it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tear me open make you gone&lt;br /&gt;No more can you hurt anyone&lt;br /&gt;And the fear still shakes me&lt;br /&gt;So hold me, until it sleeps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It grips you so hold me&lt;br /&gt;It stains you so hold me&lt;br /&gt;It hates you so hold me&lt;br /&gt;It holds you, holds you, holds you until it sleeps (x4)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I Don't want it want it want it want it want it&lt;br /&gt;No&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tear me open but beware&lt;br /&gt;There's things inside without a care&lt;br /&gt;And the dirt still stains me&lt;br /&gt;So wash me 'til I'm clean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tear thee open make you gone&lt;br /&gt;No longer will you hurt anyone&lt;br /&gt;And the hate still shapes me&lt;br /&gt;So hold me until it sleeps (x5)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.thesandman.com/2007/01/sleeping-habits.html' title='Sleeping habits'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751070216627568985&amp;postID=7803617496440625403' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.thesandman.com/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751070216627568985/posts/default/7803617496440625403'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751070216627568985/posts/default/7803617496440625403'/><author><name>Sandman</name></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6751070216627568985.post-5244549809228847263</id><published>2007-01-09T19:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-09T20:55:35.663-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Early Years (Part I)</title><content type='html'>I decided to start a new blog here on my website. Here I will share stories of my past, present and hopes for the future. I'll start by giving you a general idea of who I am and where I came from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thesandman.com/photos/momanddad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.thesandman.com/photos/momanddads.jpg" title="Danny and Denise Sands" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was born on September 4th, 1978 in Northridge Hospital in Southern California. My parents, Daniel and Denise Sands, named me Mathew Dean Sands. "Matthew" was my fathers favorite book in the bible. Apparently my mother did not have as much knowledge of the bible, thus the reason for only one "T" in my name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother was just 20 years old when I was born and my father only a year older than her. I was also greeted by a 2 1/2 year old sister, Christina Marie Sands. I am not certain that having a little brother was very exciting for her. When I was brought home from the hospital, my parents found her writing on my forehead with a pen. When asked why she did this to her new brother, her response was "I don't like the baby". I like to think she has warmed up to my presence since then. Actually, she has become the most important thing to me on this planet. I'll get more into that later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thesandman.com/photos/felony11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.thesandman.com/photos/felony11s.jpg" title="Danny Sands in Felony" align="right" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My parents were young, unmarried and had two children. To make life a bit more interesting, my father was a musician in a popular Hollywood-based rock band called &lt;i&gt;Felony&lt;/i&gt;. My earliest memories include all-night band practice in my living room. I'm able to pretty much sleep through anything now thanks to that. You can probably imagine what a child can be exposed to when raised amongst musicians.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was 13 months old, I woke up in the middle of the night to a swollen right knee. My Mom had been concerned because I had recently started walking, but began to crawl again. &lt;a href="http://www.thesandman.com/photos/momandmat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.thesandman.com/photos/momandmats.jpg" title="Mathew Sands and Mother" align="left" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I took a fall off my rocking horse and my Mother was worried that I injured myself. So, I was taken to a hospital and was told that I had an infection in my knee. But my parents were convinced that there was something else wrong. They took me to Children's Hospital of Los Angeles (C.H.L.A.), where I was diagnosed with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis (J.R.A.).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The disease quickly progressed and I soon had Arthritis in all of my joints. Throughout my childhood, I spent many months in the hospital recovering from surgeries and undergoing intense physical therapy sessions. C.H.L.A. became my second home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued....</content><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.thesandman.com/2007/01/first-blog-about-mathew-sands.html' title='The Early Years (Part I)'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6751070216627568985&amp;postID=5244549809228847263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.thesandman.com/atom.xml' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751070216627568985/posts/default/5244549809228847263'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6751070216627568985/posts/default/5244549809228847263'/><author><name>Sandman</name></author></entry></feed>