Today would have been my brother's 40th birthday.



Of course, if you read my last post you'd know that he killed himself about three and a half years ago.

Most of my family gathers at least twice year -- once on his birthday, then on the date of his death -- to visit the grave. My brother loved Budweiser beer, so we all share a Bud with him.

Anyway, I was so mad right after his suicide. Feelings of guilt overwhelmed me: Did I overlook something? Should I have seen the signs? Did I pay attention? I'll never know, though I think the answers were yes.

Like I said, he committed suicide after a serious binge of drugs and alcohol. I decided to do something about it. I wanted to avenge my brother's death.

I've never told anyone this, but: I spent the better part of three months tracking down the dealers that supplied my brother his drugs. I spent every sapre moment I could afford doing this. I was going to kill each of them. I stalked them, learned their patterns, picked out times and places I could do it. It was easy, too easy. One of the dealers was a guy we grew up with. I had planned on doing him first.

Hatred had overtaken me.

I was doing things I would have never imagined, and planning things that were way beyond the realm of what I thought I could do. I mean, I am a good person. I try to do the right thing all the time. I was so conflicted.

As I spent the time tracking down the dealers, I would have conversations with my brother. I know it sounds crazy, but I did. We would talk about everything. (One I really remember vividly was a conversation re-hashing the day my father left. We were playing out in the back yard, and my dad came out and told us he was leaving. We asked if we could go with him -- he was always taking us places. He said, not this time boys. That's it. That's all he said: Not this time, boys. Then he left.)

It was through these conversations that I finally talked myself out of my plan; heck, maybe it was even a message through my brother. Stranger things have happened, I suppose.

I've never told anyone this, as I 've said. It's a demon I've carried with me for three years, probably the biggest demon I've ever had. It feels good to get it out.

As much as I wanted to avenge his death, I'm glad I didn't. It was a suicide, not a murder.

The truth I came to realize is that my brother was responsible for his own death, and I think he helped my realize it through those conversations.

Three and a half years ago, my brother put a gun in his mouth, swallowed a bullet (so to speak) and ended his life. Tomorrow, Saturday March 11, would have been his 40th birthday.

I remember the day of his death, Aug. 8, 2002, vividly. That morning, I was packing for my first trip to Sturgis. I mean, I was about out the door, when my sister called and said my brother was in trouble. He had been on an all-night binge of drugs and alcohol. He broke into the house of his girlfriend and her husband (long story in itself), and was holding them hostage.

This was about 10 a,m., and it had been going on for awhile. So I did what anyone would do, I headed for the scene to try to help. The cops were all over the scene, had it cordoned off, had evacuated all the nearby houses. The closest I could get was about a block away. The cops at first wouldn't tell us a lot, only that the husband was released and my brother was still holding his girlfriend hostage. They had tried to set up communication with him, to no avail. The minutes dragged by. One of my other brothers showed up at the scene with his friend, who was an off-duty cop. Meanwhile, my other brother and sister set shop at her house to wait out the news, with other relatives showing up the course of the long day.

The minutes kept dragging by, and turned into half-hours. My brother finally released his girlfriend and sent a message to the cops: Leave me alone, I'm going to kill myself. I pleaded, I begged with the cops, to let me in to speak with my brother. We were close, if anyone could talk him down, I could. I knew it.

They wouldn't let me. (bastards.)

I know why they wouldn't let me. It makes sense now. But then at the scene, with all the emotions swirling, it didn't.

More minutes dragged by. Half-hours became hours. My brother had crawled into the crawlspace of the house, intent on ending his life. The cops would get close enough to speak to him. They said he was depressed. Duh, coming down after a 24-hour high of drugs and alcohol will send you about as low as low gets. All he kept talking about was that he wanted someone to take care of his dog.

The cops shot him with non-lethal bullets to try to end the situation, more than once, to no avail. Cops later told me they had never seen someone shot like that who just took it like nothing. My brother didn't care; it didn't faze him.

He finally worked up enough courage to put the gun in his mouth and pull the trigger. it was over, for him at least, about 12 hours after the ordeal began.

For the rest of the family, it was just beginning. (maybe I'll write about that some time.)

My brother had troubles. He was facing a DUI, had been hooked on various drugs for 20 years, though the last year had been worse than any of us knew. His girlfriend was leaving him. He had troubles, man, but hell who doesn't? Who doesn't? Those are all troubles that could have been dealt with, you know? But the drugs, man, had backed him into a corner he thought he couldn't get out of. He had one solution, he thought. His demons had overtaken him.

Anyway, happy birthday brother. I hope you found the peace you were looking for.

OK, now I've heard it all. (Donut, any good comments on this one?)

(AP) LONDON Bars and nightclubs in London and other British cities have begun using vending machines that sell sex toys such as mini vibrators.

The pink Tabooboo machines had previously been used in public toilets in Britain, under the assumption that such settings gave buyers some privacy.

But Geoff Todd, manager of the Alphabet Bar in London's West End area, said the Tabooboo machine it installed in the middle of the bar is used daily.

"Some people use it just because it's in the bar. Some make a special journey, maybe because they are to embarrassed to go into a sex shop," Todd was quoted as saying by Monday's The Guardian newspaper. "Some buy the toys because they are a novelty, some do it for a laugh, some buy them as presents. It's been a great success."

In addition to bars and nightclubs in London, Manchester and Newcastle, the vending machines also have begun to show up in hairdressing salons, health clubs and retail stores, Tabooboo managing director Alan Lucas said.

He said the company also has exported about 20 of the machines to Italy and about 10 to the United States.

"The younger generation isn't phased by sex toys. They don't believe they equal pornography. Vending machines allow them to buy such products anonymously without going to a seedy sex shops to do so," Lucas said.

The 11 different sex toys carried by the Tabooboo vending machines sell for an average 5 pounds (euro7.30, US$8.80) each, Lucas said.

I took this photo from the balcony of the El Panorama restaurant in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. It is one of my favorite restaurants, and the views are magnificent.