Let's say we're all bees. Each and every one of us is buzzing about-
buzz buzz buzz.
The honey that we make is our lives. Experience has taught me two things...


...and LIFE is only as yummy as you make it!

Are YOU a Killer Bee?

bee my guest?

bee my guest?
Howdy Beezers! I'm excited to share something new with you... Over the upcoming months, most of the content you'll be seeing here will be from special guest contibutors! This is sure to add a new texture to this thing we've been weaving over the years. I know that many of my readers (yes, you!) are writers, artists, musicians and filmmakers. PLEASE feel free to contact me if there's something you'd like to contribute! I'd be most honored to pollinate... send me a note: m.mckinley@rocketmail.com

please be seated

April 30, 2010


My friend Teresa Foster Kennedy recently plastered a slew of photos (circa 1987) all over Facebook. Ah, 1987. How well do you remember 1987? Jean shorts were the rage, Miami Vice was the hottest show on TV, and Madonna was bleached white-blonde for Who's That Girl. So was I. In fact, the Anahiem Stadium stop on that tour was my first ever concert. That Summer I also got my ears pierced, worked at Arby's, hitchhiked to LA with Teresa, and went on my one and only blind date [thank you Win and Amber]. I was 16, and I aged my Mother at least 5 years in just 3 months

Few of us were spared the nostalgic time machine treatment, as Teresa uploaded the blackmail-worthy photos, one by one. Naturally, I found the ones of me to be particularly unflattering, Thank God some things improve with age! And that my eyebrows grew back. I gotta tell you though, the more I looked at them, my cringes morphed into smiles. Big, grand smiles. I thought to myself, who was that kid? I began to assemble a memory of him. He was funny, and he was fearless of the world. Fearless of life. Perhaps in a most cautionary way, yet still- he was fearless. He was cool, and like most of the people I've rekindled with on Facebook, I'd like to get to know him again.

He inspires me.

So. 13 to 40 is about recognizing the boy I was, and finding out what he can teach me about the man I've become. Will I bleach my hair in commemorative fashion to celebrate my 40th? Doubtful, but you never know. He always was a bad influence on me....

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Buzz Out!

Buzz Out!