ComScore: Google+ Grows Worldwide Users From 65 Million In October To 67 Million In November : http://techcrunch.com/2011/12/22/googlesplus/
Shame we will never know whether these numbers are valid without Google disclosing this info or us having full API access
It's the 2nd anniversary of Angry Birds this Sunday, December 11, and to celebrate this break-out game we're having an intercollegiate angry birds challenge for students to compete for the title of 2011 Angry Birds College Champion. Add to learn more. Good luck, and have fun!
Maintain perspective. When life starts to feel out of control, remind yourself of the positive things in your life and how lucky you are.
Define what happiness means for you. Don’t worry about what other people define as happy, find what makes you happy and go for it.
When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in GRASS VALLEY, CA. It was believed that he had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.
One nurse took her copy to Missouri.
The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.
And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.
Crabby Old Man...
What do you see nurses? . . ... . . What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . . . When you're looking at me?
A crabby old man . .. . . . Not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .... . . . . With faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food . . . .. . And makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice . . . . . 'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice .. .. . .... . The things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . . . Lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . .. . .. . The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking? . .... . . . Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse . . . .. . You're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am. . . . .... . As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, . . . .. . As I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten . .. . . .. With a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . .. ... .. Who love one another.
A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. With wings on his feet.
Dreaming that soon now . . . . ... A lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . . .. My heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows . . . . . That I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . .... . I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other .. . . . . With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons . . ... . . Have grown and are gone,
But my woman's beside me . . . . . To see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children .. . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future . . . . . Shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing . .... . . . Young of their own.
And I think of the years .. . . .. . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man . . . . ..... And nature is cruel.
Tis jest to make old age . . . . . Look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles . . . . . Grace and vigor, depart.
There is now a stone . . . . Where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . . . . . A young guy still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . My battered heart swells.
I remember the joys . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . ... . Life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . . . ... Gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . .. . . That nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people . . . ... . Open and see.
Not a crabby old man . ... . . Look closer . .. . See ME!!
Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within.
We will all, one day, be there, too!
By: Jim Satnan
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