I'm sitting on my couch thinking about what 2010 might be like.
It's almost comical to think that when I thought of 2010 as a kid, I expected a completely different world. I think of the Bugs Bunny cartoons, where they had a future sequence. Everyone was in a space suit, driving a space ship around a futuristic sort of world. After making a drive to East Texas earlier this week, I'm reminded just how that is NOT the case at all. Everything I remember is pretty much the same way I remember it. 2010, in that sense, is not nearly as daunting.
Considering the entire landscape however - the financial, political and social concerns as 2010 dawns - it's a pretty scary animal. I have been fortunate enough to have steady employment through a very unstable time over this past year. Many of my friends have not. And, as a nation, we're still free while so many are not.
I'm thankful for everything I had in 2009 but I'm very much aware of what I have to be thankful for in 2010, as well as the consideration of those who have not been as fortunate as me.
God help us all in 2010.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
It's Not Luck, It's Answered Prayer
I don't believe in luck. In order to believe in luck, someone has to acknowledge that there is both good and bad luck. Those who have good luck have the leg-up on those with bad luck. Those with bad luck might as well be cursed. That's a simple explanation for why I don't believe in luck. There's a lot more than just that, but that's not what I am writing about.
Because I don't believe in luck, when good things happen, I attribute them to another source. I believe in a merciful, loving God, who hears and answers prayers - often in ways we don't foresee, understand or can explain. The scriptures say that "every good and perfect gift comes from God," so when something good happens to me or those around me, I try to remember to say an audible "thank you" to Him for it.
With that in mind, I want to share something that happened today and say a thank you to God for His protection and providence.
For the last couple of weeks, I've been trying to get my son's car in to get an oil change. It was well overdue. Well, I finally was able to get it in today. As we were leaving, the tech told us we needed to check the serpentine belt because it looked like it was "split" and was in terrible shape. I cautioned Chris for his drive home to not do anything out of the ordinary. When I got home, we picked up another belt and got ready to install it. Of course, we had to take off the old one in order to install the new one. When we took the old one off, this is what it looked like:
I would venture to say that when this car belonged to my parents, they probably never changed the belt, which was why it was in the condition we found it in. You can see from the pics that the belt was literally falling apart. Yet, somehow it didn't. Was it luck? Some might say so. I can't.
Every morning, when my kids leave for school, I say a quick prayer "God, protect my kids." So we find out today that they had been driving a car with fan belt in that bad of a condition. They had been driving with it like that for quite some time. Is it a coincidence that we happened to find out about the belt before it broke and left my kids stranded somewhere along the road? Maybe. I suppose that people could see it as a coincidence. I don't. I believe that God intervened somehow and caused that rotten fan belt to keep from falling apart until it could be found and replaced.
It's nice to know that the God who cares for sparrows, as well as people, also cares about kids driving old cars with old, worn out parts and keeping those kids from being stranded until their cars can be repaired. Thank you, God.
Because I don't believe in luck, when good things happen, I attribute them to another source. I believe in a merciful, loving God, who hears and answers prayers - often in ways we don't foresee, understand or can explain. The scriptures say that "every good and perfect gift comes from God," so when something good happens to me or those around me, I try to remember to say an audible "thank you" to Him for it.
With that in mind, I want to share something that happened today and say a thank you to God for His protection and providence.
For the last couple of weeks, I've been trying to get my son's car in to get an oil change. It was well overdue. Well, I finally was able to get it in today. As we were leaving, the tech told us we needed to check the serpentine belt because it looked like it was "split" and was in terrible shape. I cautioned Chris for his drive home to not do anything out of the ordinary. When I got home, we picked up another belt and got ready to install it. Of course, we had to take off the old one in order to install the new one. When we took the old one off, this is what it looked like:
I would venture to say that when this car belonged to my parents, they probably never changed the belt, which was why it was in the condition we found it in. You can see from the pics that the belt was literally falling apart. Yet, somehow it didn't. Was it luck? Some might say so. I can't.
Every morning, when my kids leave for school, I say a quick prayer "God, protect my kids." So we find out today that they had been driving a car with fan belt in that bad of a condition. They had been driving with it like that for quite some time. Is it a coincidence that we happened to find out about the belt before it broke and left my kids stranded somewhere along the road? Maybe. I suppose that people could see it as a coincidence. I don't. I believe that God intervened somehow and caused that rotten fan belt to keep from falling apart until it could be found and replaced.
It's nice to know that the God who cares for sparrows, as well as people, also cares about kids driving old cars with old, worn out parts and keeping those kids from being stranded until their cars can be repaired. Thank you, God.
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Sometimes You Just Gotta Let Off Some Steam
For folks who know me, I'm usually a level-headed guy who can take everything - up to a point. That "point" often varies, but it always comes after dealing or putting up with something until I just can't anymore. I reached that point yesterday at work. No, I didn't lose my cool and punch somebody or get myself fired. No one was hurt in the course of this little adventure. Maybe I should tell you the story...
Last May, I was at work and was assigned a ticket for a teacher's computer in one of the computer labs in our district. It was doing something really weird when she tried to print and it would only happen in 1 particular application. I went to her room to see if I could replicate the problem myself. Sure, enough, it did the very same thing when I logged in on her PC. I worked with it for about 15 minutes and decided I should try replacing her PC with an identical replacement. When I placed that PC in her room, it did the very same thing. I was stunned. What was even more frustrating, when I took the original PC back to our office, it actually worked properly. "What the heck?!"
I went back the the teacher and told her what was going on and I came up with a work-around to get her by until I could figure out what exactly was happening. This had been working until about a week ago. Not only did she have the original problem that I could not resolve, but now she was having other problems - all of which were just as unexplainable as the original one. So, I went into her room with another new PC. I plugged it up and, wouldn't you know it, it STILL didn't work. "What the heck is going on here! I had to get this fixed.
I restarted the PC (I had rebooted the PC several times already) and this time noticed a funny flash of words on the screen. I went back and restarted the PC again, but this time I opened set up. When I did, it was trying to log me out already. (The Escape key is the exit key from set up, in case anyone didn't know). So, I pressed the Escape key and, wouldn't you know it, I found the problem. The key was stuck on the keyboard. I replaced the keyboard, brought back the user's PC, started it up and magically, all the issues the user had been experiencing just went away. We talked briefly afterward and she told me that the Escape key got stuck right about the time all of her problems got started. I passed the word on to my boss and co-workers and got an "atta-boy" from them.
But there was the issue of the keyboard.
With a bad key, it would never knowingly be allowed to re-enter the production floor of our campuses. I needed to dispose of it, but throwing it away was just too easy. This thing had been the bane of my existence for over 6 months. There had to be some sort of payback for this pathetic, inanimate object for all the grief it had caused me.
I thought a lot about what to do. It was plastic, so burning it could be potentially hazardous to my health and those around me. I could run it over in my truck, but that just wouldn't be satisfying enough. It needed to be something with my bare hands. I thought about a baseball bat, but all of mine are wood and the plastic would hurt the surface of the bat. I went back to doing it with my bare hands. After a lot of stomping, swinging it around by the cable and smashing it on the ground, this is what it looked like:
Notice, there is no Escape key anywhere to be found.
Last May, I was at work and was assigned a ticket for a teacher's computer in one of the computer labs in our district. It was doing something really weird when she tried to print and it would only happen in 1 particular application. I went to her room to see if I could replicate the problem myself. Sure, enough, it did the very same thing when I logged in on her PC. I worked with it for about 15 minutes and decided I should try replacing her PC with an identical replacement. When I placed that PC in her room, it did the very same thing. I was stunned. What was even more frustrating, when I took the original PC back to our office, it actually worked properly. "What the heck?!"
I went back the the teacher and told her what was going on and I came up with a work-around to get her by until I could figure out what exactly was happening. This had been working until about a week ago. Not only did she have the original problem that I could not resolve, but now she was having other problems - all of which were just as unexplainable as the original one. So, I went into her room with another new PC. I plugged it up and, wouldn't you know it, it STILL didn't work. "What the heck is going on here! I had to get this fixed.
I restarted the PC (I had rebooted the PC several times already) and this time noticed a funny flash of words on the screen. I went back and restarted the PC again, but this time I opened set up. When I did, it was trying to log me out already. (The Escape key is the exit key from set up, in case anyone didn't know). So, I pressed the Escape key and, wouldn't you know it, I found the problem. The key was stuck on the keyboard. I replaced the keyboard, brought back the user's PC, started it up and magically, all the issues the user had been experiencing just went away. We talked briefly afterward and she told me that the Escape key got stuck right about the time all of her problems got started. I passed the word on to my boss and co-workers and got an "atta-boy" from them.
But there was the issue of the keyboard.
With a bad key, it would never knowingly be allowed to re-enter the production floor of our campuses. I needed to dispose of it, but throwing it away was just too easy. This thing had been the bane of my existence for over 6 months. There had to be some sort of payback for this pathetic, inanimate object for all the grief it had caused me.
I thought a lot about what to do. It was plastic, so burning it could be potentially hazardous to my health and those around me. I could run it over in my truck, but that just wouldn't be satisfying enough. It needed to be something with my bare hands. I thought about a baseball bat, but all of mine are wood and the plastic would hurt the surface of the bat. I went back to doing it with my bare hands. After a lot of stomping, swinging it around by the cable and smashing it on the ground, this is what it looked like:
Notice, there is no Escape key anywhere to be found.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Reflections On Being Too Busy
Being busy has become cliche'. Ask anyone how they're doing, 9 of 10 will say "I've been busy, man. Real busy." I talk to people about their schedules and a realize that I'm not nearly as busy as everyone else. My kids never played Little League or any other pee-wee sports. Chris played football for 3 years and decided to get serious about playing guitar. The girls participated in gymnastics and dance for a few years. But, more recently they've settle into being in the band at their school. Things can get hectic at times, but in the course of a week there's not usually a lot of extra places to be and lots of things to do. Still, somehow I've been too busy.
My family and I don't do much outside of our jobs. We might have a get-together with folks outside of work every now and then. We know there are people who we work with who are a lot more busy outside of the workplace than we are. The only other activities we really get into have to do with our church. We play for church services, outreach events and anything else that might come down the pike. We also have a lot of friends at our church. Some of you may have seen my post over the weekend about our little church. Most of our friends are there and most of our time is spent there. In the vast configuration of things however, it's really not THAT much. But still we've been too busy.
You might wonder why I say that we've been too busy?
This past Saturday, there was an estate sale at a house across the street and down 4 houses from ours. A little old lady lived in that house since we moved in the neighborhood. She likely had lived there long before we ever moved to the neighborhood. From what I could tell, she was really sweet. I would see her every now and then going out to get her mail. She would wave and smile. I can't count how many times that happened. We've lived in this same house 6 1/2 years and not once did I ever introduce myself to that lady. I was always going somewhere. I was too busy.
Over the past few months I noticed that I hadn't seen that lady check her mail. I hadn't seen her at all outside of her house for as long as I can remember - maybe for all of 2009. Her yard was always in good shape. It didn't appear that no one lived there. I just didn't see her. Then, all of a sudden, there's this nondescript sign in her yard "estate sale."
Over the course of the day, on Saturday, people came and went and before dark someone loaded up a trailer with what could have been the entire dining room set. No sign of the little lady. She was gone. Where? I have no idea.
I've driven by that house at least 4-6 times since Saturday and when I do, I feel such a sadness. Something is missing...that little lady is gone - and I have no idea who she was. More importantly, I never knew who she was because I was just too busy to find out who she was. That, to me, is the saddest thing of all.
My family and I don't do much outside of our jobs. We might have a get-together with folks outside of work every now and then. We know there are people who we work with who are a lot more busy outside of the workplace than we are. The only other activities we really get into have to do with our church. We play for church services, outreach events and anything else that might come down the pike. We also have a lot of friends at our church. Some of you may have seen my post over the weekend about our little church. Most of our friends are there and most of our time is spent there. In the vast configuration of things however, it's really not THAT much. But still we've been too busy.
You might wonder why I say that we've been too busy?
This past Saturday, there was an estate sale at a house across the street and down 4 houses from ours. A little old lady lived in that house since we moved in the neighborhood. She likely had lived there long before we ever moved to the neighborhood. From what I could tell, she was really sweet. I would see her every now and then going out to get her mail. She would wave and smile. I can't count how many times that happened. We've lived in this same house 6 1/2 years and not once did I ever introduce myself to that lady. I was always going somewhere. I was too busy.
Over the past few months I noticed that I hadn't seen that lady check her mail. I hadn't seen her at all outside of her house for as long as I can remember - maybe for all of 2009. Her yard was always in good shape. It didn't appear that no one lived there. I just didn't see her. Then, all of a sudden, there's this nondescript sign in her yard "estate sale."
Over the course of the day, on Saturday, people came and went and before dark someone loaded up a trailer with what could have been the entire dining room set. No sign of the little lady. She was gone. Where? I have no idea.
I've driven by that house at least 4-6 times since Saturday and when I do, I feel such a sadness. Something is missing...that little lady is gone - and I have no idea who she was. More importantly, I never knew who she was because I was just too busy to find out who she was. That, to me, is the saddest thing of all.
Monday, October 05, 2009
Before My Very Eyes
Last Saturday, I witnessed a startling transformation.
My oldest daughter, Jessica will turn 15 next May. She's currently a freshman at Montgomery High School. She's in the Golden Bear Marching Band along with many of her friends. Thanks to changing jobs two years ago, I get to see her every day and have met many of those friends.
Last Friday was the Homecoming Game for Montgomery High School. I was there, along with my family, to see Jessica march in the band. I was bursting with pride to see her out there on the field. We spent most of the band's routine trying to point out where she was to my parents as the routine twisted and turned back and forth across the field. It was a good night. The football team had won handily. The band looked great. On the way home Jessica mentioned something about a homecoming dance the next day. It didn't really register. It was late and we all needed to go to bed.
Saturday morning, the band traveled to Bryan, TX to participate in a marching contest at Blinn Jr. College. Her mom & I dropped her off around 7 AM and picked her up later in the day. It hadn't quite registered what Jessica had told me about the dance later on that day. On the way home she mentioned something about getting some stuff for her dress for the homecoming dance.
"Dad, there's a dance at the high school tonight. Remember? You and Mom both said I could go."
"Oh, yeah! Right."
I remembered, but some of the stuff she said she needed startled me a little. She and her mom had bought a strapless dress for the occasion a few weeks before. I hadn't seen it yet, but I was somewhat confident that since her mom had signed off on it, it would be OK. But we still had to get the accessories to make it work properly. Girl stuff. Somehow I regularly end up taking both of my daughters to get " girl stuff."It's OK though, I'm a pretty good dad.
---
It was stressful in the early days. I had gotten used to getting those things for my wife. I got over being embarrassed about buying femine items for her by doing it - again and again. Real men buy Kotex. (You can write that down!) I don't know why it was different buying those same things for my daughters, but somehow it was. I had to get used to it all over again.
There was the time I took one of the girls (I don't remember who now. I'm sure they'll tell me.) to buy some bras. I'm sure if their mom were there, she would go in with them and make sure they fit and all that. Dad's don't do that. So, I'm sitting in the shoe department in JC Penney's and one of the sales guys comes by to offer his assistance.
"Can I help you?"
"Uh, no, thanks. I'm just waiting on someone."
"You might be interested to know that we have a special on shoes..." He continues on.
"Listen buddy, I'm here with my daughter who is trying on bras right now. I just need a place to sit and think. Is it OK if I sit here for a bit?"
"Yeah, sure." The guy just busts out laughing and I know he's laughing at me. He came back a couple of times before my daughter was ready and was still laughing. He OBVIOUSLY does not have girl children - if any children at all. One of these days the tables will be turned. It would be nice to get to return the favor - only I wouldn't be laughing. I would just say "hey, it happens!" It definitely does!
---
So, Jessica and I go shopping together - to one shop and then to another. We find what we're looking for fairly easy, but I'm feeling rather uneasy. I don't know that I want her to wear a strapless dress - even if her mom DID approve. No offense, but this is MY little girl!
Then, like a shot out of the dark, she finds ANOTHER dress. It's not strapless, which has me feelin' pretty good about this new prospect. She tries it on and - WHAM! - it's a keeper. But in that split second a realization sets in. My daughter is lookin' good - real good! Wait, maybe a little too good! Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Who said she could go to this dance thing anyway?!
I know my kids aren't babies anymore. But, when Jessica tried on that dress a serious realization or perhaps an epiphany: I'm looking at a beautiful young lady. It should have been obvious, but it wasn't clear to me until that moment.
So, there it is - a dad struggling to find his place in a world that revolves less around him and more around his kids. I'm sure I'll get better at it. I still have some time to prepare. Because even though she has grown up so much, she's still growing and will continue to. The best part is that I can be a part of it along the way.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Sing a Family Song
I just got a new batch of music the other day and I heard this song for what seemed like the first time:
There’s got to be some folks around with memories just like mine
Who’d give the world to stop the clock and turn back the hands of time
To an evening spent like so many spent with Mom and Dad at home
When Dad would get the old guitar down and sing a family song
When mom and me sang harmony, little sister she hummed along,
Sing a family song, oh, sing a family song
When Dad would get the old guitar down and sing a family song
Now maybe your first memories of home won’t resemble mine at all
But I know there’s one thing I know we all have in common
And that’s the God given gift to recall
Maybe your dad didn’t play no guitar but I know there was something he did
That doesn’t make your old heart well up and sad when you relive your life as a kid
Sing a family song, oh, sing a family song
When mom and me sang harmony, little sister she hummed along,
Sing a family song, oh, sing a family song
(words & music by Merle Haggard)
It got me to thinking of family reunions that I attended, as a kid, on my mother's side of the family. After they had lunch, everyone would start taking out their instruments: fiddles, accordions, guitars, banjos and start playing. Those who didn't play would sing along. When I was little this would last FOREVER! That's what I grew up with expecting family reunions to be.
Now, in the case of the Knox Family, I don't recall everyone getting together to sing. Like the song says, my memories weren't of my dad playing and singing a song at home. Mom did all that in our house, but most of our singing was in church (though when we would make long drives, she and I would sing along with the AM radio. When we got tired of that, we'd just start singing and take turns harmonizing with each other). I don't know how many of us play any sort of instrument. But, this is my idea for the reunion this year: If there's some song that is near and dear to your heart from your childhood, let me know. I want to get a collection of songs together in a Power Point slide show so we can sing them together at the reunion.
This is where it will get interesting - if you play an instrument that can be carried into the Malakoff Senior Citizen Center - bring it with you to the reunion. I'll put together chord charts and sheet music so we can play them together. [There is already a piano there (I think), so if you play piano, you'll be splitting time with my mother.] All I ask is that if you'd like to play, please let me know in advance so I can make arrangements for you. Of course nobody will NOT be allowed to play, but it'll be easier if I'm already expecting you.
So, if you have a favorite song you'd like to sing, let me know. And, if you play an instrument, dust it off and bring it with you. Who knows, maybe we'll be starting a whole new family tradition!
Monday, July 06, 2009
Would You Want To Be Remembered Like This?
I recently saw an ad campaign that shows a series of obituaries. One died a military hero. One was a fireman who died in the line of duty. Another died of natural causes, but was a great dad. The last one was "electrocuted while trying to steal copper." Then the tag line says "How would you like to be remembered?"
I remember learning who Steve McNair was. My family and I lived in Mississippi for 2 years - 1993-95 - the same 2 years that McNair rose to national prominence playing quarterback at Alcorn State University. "Air McNair," as he was known in those days, was a household word. It was no surprise, after his stellar career, that McNair would go in the NFL draft. In fact, he was drafted the number 3 pick overall in the 1995 draft by the Houston Oilers, who went on to become the Tennessee Titans. He was the local boy who made good. He could play everything, but seemed to excel playing football. He retired last year after a star-studded 12-year NFL career with a good name and the respect of his colleages and fans from all over the country. If only that was the end of the story.
In the days since the story broke regarding the murder of Steve McNair, that silly ad about the copper thief has come to mind again and again. There was no way McNair saw this coming. How could he? He had only been carrying on like this for just a few months. Reports say that he had been seen at the condo so often that neighbors thought he lived there. The fact that he could carry on such a complete double life, as has been revealed in news reports, is nothing short of amazing. But as each new tidbit of info is leaked into the press, the story becomes more pathetic - kind of like the guy in the ad. Make no mistake, the REAL victims here are McNair's wife and children, and maybe some of his extended family. One has to wonder how many may have known that any of this was going on. What of his numerous "friends?" Whatever the case, I know neither the man in the ad nor Steve McNair ever imagined that things would come to such an end. But, here it is, something noone could have imagined, playing out in front of us like a bad script. It is only a matter of time before the next bit of sordid info to hits the wire. When it does, it brings with it the kind of mess that will not clean up in a thousand lifetimes.
All the stories I've read and heard in the press are about McNair, the football player, or McNair, the philanthropist, or even McNair, the family man. But, unfortunately we are learning the the real story about Steve McNair without the benefit of hearing from McNair himself. I know, if given the opportunity, he could probably offer no good explanation for his behavior over the past several months. I'm sure he would like to try. But, I know for an absolute certainty that Steve McNair definitely would not have wanted to be remembered for anything like this.
I remember learning who Steve McNair was. My family and I lived in Mississippi for 2 years - 1993-95 - the same 2 years that McNair rose to national prominence playing quarterback at Alcorn State University. "Air McNair," as he was known in those days, was a household word. It was no surprise, after his stellar career, that McNair would go in the NFL draft. In fact, he was drafted the number 3 pick overall in the 1995 draft by the Houston Oilers, who went on to become the Tennessee Titans. He was the local boy who made good. He could play everything, but seemed to excel playing football. He retired last year after a star-studded 12-year NFL career with a good name and the respect of his colleages and fans from all over the country. If only that was the end of the story.
In the days since the story broke regarding the murder of Steve McNair, that silly ad about the copper thief has come to mind again and again. There was no way McNair saw this coming. How could he? He had only been carrying on like this for just a few months. Reports say that he had been seen at the condo so often that neighbors thought he lived there. The fact that he could carry on such a complete double life, as has been revealed in news reports, is nothing short of amazing. But as each new tidbit of info is leaked into the press, the story becomes more pathetic - kind of like the guy in the ad. Make no mistake, the REAL victims here are McNair's wife and children, and maybe some of his extended family. One has to wonder how many may have known that any of this was going on. What of his numerous "friends?" Whatever the case, I know neither the man in the ad nor Steve McNair ever imagined that things would come to such an end. But, here it is, something noone could have imagined, playing out in front of us like a bad script. It is only a matter of time before the next bit of sordid info to hits the wire. When it does, it brings with it the kind of mess that will not clean up in a thousand lifetimes.
All the stories I've read and heard in the press are about McNair, the football player, or McNair, the philanthropist, or even McNair, the family man. But, unfortunately we are learning the the real story about Steve McNair without the benefit of hearing from McNair himself. I know, if given the opportunity, he could probably offer no good explanation for his behavior over the past several months. I'm sure he would like to try. But, I know for an absolute certainty that Steve McNair definitely would not have wanted to be remembered for anything like this.
Monday, June 29, 2009
I'd Do Anything For Love...
Last week, one of the saddest stories ever witnessed in US pop culture came to a close. Though I would never consider myself a Michael Jackson fan, the breadth of his influence as an entertainer cannot be denied - even in the small east Texas town where I grew up. During the 70's and 80's, his music was everywhere. One would be hard pressed to find someone who doesn't know the name Michael Jackson, much less anyone who never heard his music.
Yet, in spite of the influence and celebrity, as well as his immense talent, we've seen his personal life spiral out of control and become a media spectacle in recent years. His life seemed to be unraveling before our eyes. Lawsuits, bizarre behavior, accusations, rumors of drug abuse became a regular part of the man's life and overshadowed his incredible talent. Considering how his life had been geared for the spotlight since childhood, and that his private life had become such public event, it is little wonder that his demise happened just in time for the evening news. However, I find it odd that the same reporters who referred to Jackson as "Jacko" during the child molestation trial in 2005 and in the time since, now simply refer to him today as "Michael" in reverent tones. I guess in his death, it is more fitting to allow such a tortured soul that bit of mercy.
I get most of my news from the headlines that appear on the Drudge Report (flame away all of you Drudge haters!) and in the days since there have been a lot of articles appearing there about Michael Jackson. A lot of them have been nothing but fluff, talking about how much pain he was in, how talented he was, how he never got to be a normal child, on and on. I would be the last person qualified to analyze the life Michael Jackson lived. But, one article appeared on Drudge that caught my attention. Rabbi Shmuley Boteach spent a good deal of time since the 2005 molestaton trial counseling Michael Jackson and became one of his close friends. In an unguarded moment, he once said the following to the rabbi:
"I am going to say something I have never said before and this is the truth. I have no reason to lie to you and God knows I am telling the truth. I think all my success and fame, and I have wanted it, I have wanted it because I wanted to be loved. That's all. That's the real truth. I wanted people to love me, truly love me, because I never really felt loved. I said I know I have an ability. Maybe if I sharpened my craft, maybe people will love me more. I just wanted to be loved because I think it is very important to be loved and to tell people that you love them and to look in their eyes and say it."
At the bottom of everything that has been so weird, sad, frightening, angering about what we all have seen of this man's life, that statement is most telling. Regardless of what was done to him or what he did to others, ultimately one of life's deepest longings went unfulfilled in his life from an early age. As he matured, he merely sought to fill the void with the fame and fortune that came all to easy to him. I don't know when it happened, but at some point he realized that he couldn't make enough money to quiet the longing within him for love. That need cried out in him and no avenue was unwasted pursuing a remedy that he would never find.
Meat Loaf's Grammy Award winning song "I would do anything for love, but I won't do that" comes to mind. Many dispise him. Many others laugh and crack jokes. I can't find the strength to do either. We look at Michael Jackson and see the tragedy: a man did everything he could to find love on this earth only to find all those things - including the more despicable things - could not fill the void. In fact, he became what many would refer to as a "monster" before the end.
The truth is, in spite of all the fame, fortune and all that such a lifestyle could afford, the self-professed "King of Pop" wasn't so different from us at all.
Yet, in spite of the influence and celebrity, as well as his immense talent, we've seen his personal life spiral out of control and become a media spectacle in recent years. His life seemed to be unraveling before our eyes. Lawsuits, bizarre behavior, accusations, rumors of drug abuse became a regular part of the man's life and overshadowed his incredible talent. Considering how his life had been geared for the spotlight since childhood, and that his private life had become such public event, it is little wonder that his demise happened just in time for the evening news. However, I find it odd that the same reporters who referred to Jackson as "Jacko" during the child molestation trial in 2005 and in the time since, now simply refer to him today as "Michael" in reverent tones. I guess in his death, it is more fitting to allow such a tortured soul that bit of mercy.
I get most of my news from the headlines that appear on the Drudge Report (flame away all of you Drudge haters!) and in the days since there have been a lot of articles appearing there about Michael Jackson. A lot of them have been nothing but fluff, talking about how much pain he was in, how talented he was, how he never got to be a normal child, on and on. I would be the last person qualified to analyze the life Michael Jackson lived. But, one article appeared on Drudge that caught my attention. Rabbi Shmuley Boteach spent a good deal of time since the 2005 molestaton trial counseling Michael Jackson and became one of his close friends. In an unguarded moment, he once said the following to the rabbi:
"I am going to say something I have never said before and this is the truth. I have no reason to lie to you and God knows I am telling the truth. I think all my success and fame, and I have wanted it, I have wanted it because I wanted to be loved. That's all. That's the real truth. I wanted people to love me, truly love me, because I never really felt loved. I said I know I have an ability. Maybe if I sharpened my craft, maybe people will love me more. I just wanted to be loved because I think it is very important to be loved and to tell people that you love them and to look in their eyes and say it."
At the bottom of everything that has been so weird, sad, frightening, angering about what we all have seen of this man's life, that statement is most telling. Regardless of what was done to him or what he did to others, ultimately one of life's deepest longings went unfulfilled in his life from an early age. As he matured, he merely sought to fill the void with the fame and fortune that came all to easy to him. I don't know when it happened, but at some point he realized that he couldn't make enough money to quiet the longing within him for love. That need cried out in him and no avenue was unwasted pursuing a remedy that he would never find.
Meat Loaf's Grammy Award winning song "I would do anything for love, but I won't do that" comes to mind. Many dispise him. Many others laugh and crack jokes. I can't find the strength to do either. We look at Michael Jackson and see the tragedy: a man did everything he could to find love on this earth only to find all those things - including the more despicable things - could not fill the void. In fact, he became what many would refer to as a "monster" before the end.
The truth is, in spite of all the fame, fortune and all that such a lifestyle could afford, the self-professed "King of Pop" wasn't so different from us at all.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Wrecked...
When I see the word "wrecked," it brings a lot of things to mind. With Mom's accident recently, it's come to describe what happened to her in a moment of vulnerability. Sometimes it also means having a little too much to drink and having things get out of hand. My friend, Andrew Fortune, liked to use the term to describe what happened when he would strongly sense God's presence at a certain time. It just so happened that I had the experienced of getting "wrecked" a few weeks ago during the Vineyard Leadership Conference in Galveston. I cried like a baby throughout the conference and left there wondering "what now?"
Then a few weeks ago, I read this blog by Crispin Schroeder. Crispin is a musician on staff at the Vineyard Church in Kenner, Louisiana. He recently made it known that he and his family would be planting a church in the Covington/Mandeville area in the same state.
I have to admit that I get a little envious of church planters nowadays when they make this sort of announcement. The experts say it's easier to manage planting a church when a couple's children are small or grown. Teen and pre-teen children seem to have more difficulty with the process of relocating and acclimating to the new way of life. But, when our children were small, we couldn't seem get our act together long enough to get the blessing to proceed. As our family has grown, it's often seemed like little more than a pipe dream. "Life comes at you fast," the commercial says, and we've just found ourselves and our children getting older. The dream of planting a church is still there, but it's like something placed on a shelf, gathering dust.
Reading Crispin's blog coincided with the "wrecked" experience for me. Though he didn't use the word "wrecked," I got exactly what he meant. The world needs to see people who've been wrecked by the love of God.
It may not mean much at all and may never come to anything, but last night something happened to me in a Wal Mart parking lot. In the middle of making plans to move my parents away from the first place I ever called "home," the place called back - or maybe it was God calling back. I really don't know which. Originally, when I thought of planting a church, I felt that the church to be planted would be in a wild and raucous place: Gun Barrel City, Texas. To drive through the area, it would seem the last thing the city needs is another church. But, I'm sure they could use one that Crispin describes - made up of people who have been "wrecked" by the love of God for people who need him most.
So, while driving down the main drag, I felt the heart of God for a part of the world that is as dear to me as my own life. They need to meet people who've been wrecked by God's love. My prayer was, and will be, "God, send someone, who's been wrecked by your love, to this place. And, if no one else will go, then send me." Some day. One day. Whenever.
Yeah, I'm wrecked, but it's OK.
Then a few weeks ago, I read this blog by Crispin Schroeder. Crispin is a musician on staff at the Vineyard Church in Kenner, Louisiana. He recently made it known that he and his family would be planting a church in the Covington/Mandeville area in the same state.
I have to admit that I get a little envious of church planters nowadays when they make this sort of announcement. The experts say it's easier to manage planting a church when a couple's children are small or grown. Teen and pre-teen children seem to have more difficulty with the process of relocating and acclimating to the new way of life. But, when our children were small, we couldn't seem get our act together long enough to get the blessing to proceed. As our family has grown, it's often seemed like little more than a pipe dream. "Life comes at you fast," the commercial says, and we've just found ourselves and our children getting older. The dream of planting a church is still there, but it's like something placed on a shelf, gathering dust.
Reading Crispin's blog coincided with the "wrecked" experience for me. Though he didn't use the word "wrecked," I got exactly what he meant. The world needs to see people who've been wrecked by the love of God.
It may not mean much at all and may never come to anything, but last night something happened to me in a Wal Mart parking lot. In the middle of making plans to move my parents away from the first place I ever called "home," the place called back - or maybe it was God calling back. I really don't know which. Originally, when I thought of planting a church, I felt that the church to be planted would be in a wild and raucous place: Gun Barrel City, Texas. To drive through the area, it would seem the last thing the city needs is another church. But, I'm sure they could use one that Crispin describes - made up of people who have been "wrecked" by the love of God for people who need him most.
So, while driving down the main drag, I felt the heart of God for a part of the world that is as dear to me as my own life. They need to meet people who've been wrecked by God's love. My prayer was, and will be, "God, send someone, who's been wrecked by your love, to this place. And, if no one else will go, then send me." Some day. One day. Whenever.
Yeah, I'm wrecked, but it's OK.
Monday, June 01, 2009
We All Knew This Day Would Come
It seems like such a cliché' to write about how life changes, how people grow up and get older and then how everyone copes with it. After all, life happens to everybody and we all have to deal with it the one thing that binds us all together: change. As much as we fight it, struggle with how it makes us feel or what we must do to come to grips with it, everything will change. Musicians have made a living for themselves giving music and lyrics to all those feelings change stirs up within us. Writers and artists have applied their talents to provide words and pictures for the feelings that seem too deep for words. In spite of all our best efforts, we're never quite prepared for moment when change comes.
Some of our friends and family know that we've been talking with Mom & Dad about moving closer to me and my family or to my sister, Vicki, and her family in Victoria, Texas. We've had various plans in the past that never materialized. Recently, my wife and I raised the topic with them and we were moving forward with a plan to have them move closer to us in the fuzzy near-future. Of course, now with the events that unfolded over the weekend with my mother's wreck, we're looking at putting another gear on our plans. We've talked before about them moving and have discussed it a few times again this weekend. It will be really nice to have them nearby and check in on them regularly and have them more involved in our family. It's a great thing and I look forward to it. I hope they look forward to it with the same pleasant anticipation we have.
However, as the song says "each new beginning is another beginning's end," how does one go about leaving a place that has been "home" for such a long time? I often think about my parents' home as being such a significant place for me. However, it wasn't until my cousin, Brenda, mentioned it on Facebook a few days ago that I realized I'm not the only one who feels this way. It's the not the place that is so special. It's always been a small, wood-frame, two bedroom house on a simple 3/4's acre lot on one of the quietest streets in Malakoff, Texas. But, what made it so special is that it's the container that holds everyone's memories. 505 East Pine Avenue in Malakoff, Texas has held a lot of memories for a whole lot of people for a long time.
I came into this world after my brother and sister, along with most of their cousins, were all but grown. In those days, 505 E. Pine Avenue was known as 514 Pine and my grandparents lived in a small travel trailer parked right next to the house. I remember as a small child seeing all sorts of people coming to visit my grandparents. Aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, outlaws - you name it - someone was always coming over to see my Pop and Grandmamma. I've heard my sister and different cousins talk about how my parents along with my aunts and uncles would go into the little 12 x 12 kitchen in my parents' house and close the door so they could visit, while the cousins would try to sleep on their pallets in the living room. Every now and then the kids would get too loud and one of the parents would open the door and tell the kids to be quiet and go to sleep, all the while laughing and telling stories late into the night.
I don't remember much anymore from the days when my grandparents lived next door to us. There are lots of stories and pictures from when I was set in the bed with my Pop to watch "rasslin" with him. But, there are two things I remember without pictures and they are as vivid as color television.
The first was when I was about 4 years old. I came bounding out of their trailer and right in my path was a brown, checkered snake curled up in the grass. I don't know how I was able to skip over it, but I did, and ran directly in the house. By the time I had gone inside and come back out with my mother, the snake was nowhere to be seen. From that day forward, I never bounded outside of the trailer. I looked before I would leap until their trailer was finally moved away.
The second event I remember at Grandmamma’s house had to do with my cousin, Randy Perkins. Randy was known as being “mentally retarded” in a time when political correctness hadn’t yet come into play. I was terrified of Randy not just because he was bigger than me and looked funny, but because he would take every opportunity to bully and physically hurt me. He once got a running start and knocked me off a tricycle in my parents’ driveway. When I saw Randy, all I wanted to do was RUN!
One day, I was over at Grandmamma’s enjoying tea and crackers when Randy and his mom, Georgina, pulled into the driveway. She knew I was scared of Randy, so she grabbed me and told me to go hide under a table and to be as quiet as I could. I scrambled under that table, slid the tablecloth down as far as I could and hardly breathed for half an hour. Georgina visited with Grandmamma while Randy messed with things in her house. I just knew he was looking for me. At one point, she told him to stop whatever he was doing – I guess it was because he was getting close to where I was. After what seemed like an eternity, I heard Georgina say “well, I guess we’d better go” and Grandmamma proceed to walk them out the door. Once they had pulled out of the driveway and gone down the street, she raised the tablecloth and told me that I could get out from under the table. (Now that I think about it, I honestly don’t remember if Grandmamma left my glass of tea and crackers on the table or if she put them away. If she didn’t, that may have been the reason why Randy was going through her house the way he did. ) I’ll always be grateful to her for protecting me that day.
Another thing about my parents’ house here in Malakoff is the history of pets we had here. The first pet I remember was a black, over-sized Chihuahua called Sissy, I think. I don’t remember what happened to her, but she was far from being the last pet at our house. We had several stray cats and dogs, as well as a few that we picked out from a litter of pups or kittens. At one point, we had the meanest horse in the entire world in our back yard, a Shetland pony named Poncho. He must have bitten everyone in the family. It was a great day when my brother-in-law sold him.
Because we had so many pets when I was a kid, there are also countless animal carcasses buried on my parents’ property, too: dogs, cats and one hamster all are out there, somewhere. There’s also a few pets buried at various places on the property of my parents’ church, Malakoff First Assembly of God. There’s even one pet buried in the median of Hwy 31.
Penny, the wonder-horse, known for breaking into local feed stores and chicken coops, opening gates and jumping cattle guards, broke out one last time and met his match. One Sunday morning, the local FFA teacher called my dad and told him that a horse that looked like Penny was lying dead on the road outside of Malakoff. Dad verified that it was Penny and consulted with a local attorney about what to do next. His advice to Dad was to not claim the horse. In spite of friends saying “Joel, I think your horse is dead on the east side of town,” (and several of them did) we didn’t say anything. To our knowledge no one was injured in the accident. But, poor ol’ Penny had to be tended to. That same day, the Henderson County Highway Department buried Penny in the median of Hwy 31 where it divides on the east side of town. I always wanted to put some sort of marker out there. But, I couldn’t do it without raising suspicion. So, when I head out east toward Athens, I always take a quick look to the north side of the road to pay my respects to the most amazing horse that ever lived.
One of the drawbacks of growing up in a small town is that people know things about each other. It’s not so bad if a person lives right. If they get in trouble, the whole world will know about it. If people have been the same place for a long time, there is a larger body of information to pull from. In my case, I was the third child attending the same schools my brother and sister attended, so everyone saw me coming. Fortunately, only a handful of teachers were still around who remembered my siblings by the time I was in their class. But, I had one teacher, Mrs. Helen Brewer, in high school, who took every opportunity to tell me that should be more like my brother or sister. “You’re too lazy!” I never got a break.
Then there are all the people who went to school with my brother and sister who had kids of their own who were my age. I remember being in art class looking at an old football program one time. One of the girls in the class said “Hey, look it’s my mom!” One of the guys said “That’s my mom!” I said “That’s my sister!” The table went quiet then everyone said “Nuh-uh!” It took some convincing to get them to believe me. Then, the same guy who identified his mom in the same picture said “hey, your sister is pretty!” I told him “And she’s the same age as your mom!” I couldn’t make this stuff up!
Literally, there’s a story at every turn in this little ol’ town. For me, this place was my entire world for the first 19 years of my life. It’s been the lone constant in the time since. I always knew I could go back home any time I needed to. As we get ready for this new phase of life, when Mom & Dad will come to live with me and my family, there are more mixed feelings than I ever expected. I will miss this place more profoundly than I can imagine right now. It’s not just a chapter that’s closing, either. It’s like finishing a major series of books and packing them away in a trunk to be shipped away.
Having said that, I must say that there is such an advantage to what we’re doing. I look forward to seeing my parents more regularly and to be involved with each others’ lives again. I think we’re thoroughly going to enjoy each other’s company. But, make no mistake…I’m really going to miss this place. I knew this day would come, but now that it’s here, I had no idea what I was in for until now.
Some of our friends and family know that we've been talking with Mom & Dad about moving closer to me and my family or to my sister, Vicki, and her family in Victoria, Texas. We've had various plans in the past that never materialized. Recently, my wife and I raised the topic with them and we were moving forward with a plan to have them move closer to us in the fuzzy near-future. Of course, now with the events that unfolded over the weekend with my mother's wreck, we're looking at putting another gear on our plans. We've talked before about them moving and have discussed it a few times again this weekend. It will be really nice to have them nearby and check in on them regularly and have them more involved in our family. It's a great thing and I look forward to it. I hope they look forward to it with the same pleasant anticipation we have.
However, as the song says "each new beginning is another beginning's end," how does one go about leaving a place that has been "home" for such a long time? I often think about my parents' home as being such a significant place for me. However, it wasn't until my cousin, Brenda, mentioned it on Facebook a few days ago that I realized I'm not the only one who feels this way. It's the not the place that is so special. It's always been a small, wood-frame, two bedroom house on a simple 3/4's acre lot on one of the quietest streets in Malakoff, Texas. But, what made it so special is that it's the container that holds everyone's memories. 505 East Pine Avenue in Malakoff, Texas has held a lot of memories for a whole lot of people for a long time.
I came into this world after my brother and sister, along with most of their cousins, were all but grown. In those days, 505 E. Pine Avenue was known as 514 Pine and my grandparents lived in a small travel trailer parked right next to the house. I remember as a small child seeing all sorts of people coming to visit my grandparents. Aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, outlaws - you name it - someone was always coming over to see my Pop and Grandmamma. I've heard my sister and different cousins talk about how my parents along with my aunts and uncles would go into the little 12 x 12 kitchen in my parents' house and close the door so they could visit, while the cousins would try to sleep on their pallets in the living room. Every now and then the kids would get too loud and one of the parents would open the door and tell the kids to be quiet and go to sleep, all the while laughing and telling stories late into the night.
I don't remember much anymore from the days when my grandparents lived next door to us. There are lots of stories and pictures from when I was set in the bed with my Pop to watch "rasslin" with him. But, there are two things I remember without pictures and they are as vivid as color television.
The first was when I was about 4 years old. I came bounding out of their trailer and right in my path was a brown, checkered snake curled up in the grass. I don't know how I was able to skip over it, but I did, and ran directly in the house. By the time I had gone inside and come back out with my mother, the snake was nowhere to be seen. From that day forward, I never bounded outside of the trailer. I looked before I would leap until their trailer was finally moved away.
The second event I remember at Grandmamma’s house had to do with my cousin, Randy Perkins. Randy was known as being “mentally retarded” in a time when political correctness hadn’t yet come into play. I was terrified of Randy not just because he was bigger than me and looked funny, but because he would take every opportunity to bully and physically hurt me. He once got a running start and knocked me off a tricycle in my parents’ driveway. When I saw Randy, all I wanted to do was RUN!
One day, I was over at Grandmamma’s enjoying tea and crackers when Randy and his mom, Georgina, pulled into the driveway. She knew I was scared of Randy, so she grabbed me and told me to go hide under a table and to be as quiet as I could. I scrambled under that table, slid the tablecloth down as far as I could and hardly breathed for half an hour. Georgina visited with Grandmamma while Randy messed with things in her house. I just knew he was looking for me. At one point, she told him to stop whatever he was doing – I guess it was because he was getting close to where I was. After what seemed like an eternity, I heard Georgina say “well, I guess we’d better go” and Grandmamma proceed to walk them out the door. Once they had pulled out of the driveway and gone down the street, she raised the tablecloth and told me that I could get out from under the table. (Now that I think about it, I honestly don’t remember if Grandmamma left my glass of tea and crackers on the table or if she put them away. If she didn’t, that may have been the reason why Randy was going through her house the way he did. ) I’ll always be grateful to her for protecting me that day.
Another thing about my parents’ house here in Malakoff is the history of pets we had here. The first pet I remember was a black, over-sized Chihuahua called Sissy, I think. I don’t remember what happened to her, but she was far from being the last pet at our house. We had several stray cats and dogs, as well as a few that we picked out from a litter of pups or kittens. At one point, we had the meanest horse in the entire world in our back yard, a Shetland pony named Poncho. He must have bitten everyone in the family. It was a great day when my brother-in-law sold him.
Because we had so many pets when I was a kid, there are also countless animal carcasses buried on my parents’ property, too: dogs, cats and one hamster all are out there, somewhere. There’s also a few pets buried at various places on the property of my parents’ church, Malakoff First Assembly of God. There’s even one pet buried in the median of Hwy 31.
Penny, the wonder-horse, known for breaking into local feed stores and chicken coops, opening gates and jumping cattle guards, broke out one last time and met his match. One Sunday morning, the local FFA teacher called my dad and told him that a horse that looked like Penny was lying dead on the road outside of Malakoff. Dad verified that it was Penny and consulted with a local attorney about what to do next. His advice to Dad was to not claim the horse. In spite of friends saying “Joel, I think your horse is dead on the east side of town,” (and several of them did) we didn’t say anything. To our knowledge no one was injured in the accident. But, poor ol’ Penny had to be tended to. That same day, the Henderson County Highway Department buried Penny in the median of Hwy 31 where it divides on the east side of town. I always wanted to put some sort of marker out there. But, I couldn’t do it without raising suspicion. So, when I head out east toward Athens, I always take a quick look to the north side of the road to pay my respects to the most amazing horse that ever lived.
One of the drawbacks of growing up in a small town is that people know things about each other. It’s not so bad if a person lives right. If they get in trouble, the whole world will know about it. If people have been the same place for a long time, there is a larger body of information to pull from. In my case, I was the third child attending the same schools my brother and sister attended, so everyone saw me coming. Fortunately, only a handful of teachers were still around who remembered my siblings by the time I was in their class. But, I had one teacher, Mrs. Helen Brewer, in high school, who took every opportunity to tell me that should be more like my brother or sister. “You’re too lazy!” I never got a break.
Then there are all the people who went to school with my brother and sister who had kids of their own who were my age. I remember being in art class looking at an old football program one time. One of the girls in the class said “Hey, look it’s my mom!” One of the guys said “That’s my mom!” I said “That’s my sister!” The table went quiet then everyone said “Nuh-uh!” It took some convincing to get them to believe me. Then, the same guy who identified his mom in the same picture said “hey, your sister is pretty!” I told him “And she’s the same age as your mom!” I couldn’t make this stuff up!
Literally, there’s a story at every turn in this little ol’ town. For me, this place was my entire world for the first 19 years of my life. It’s been the lone constant in the time since. I always knew I could go back home any time I needed to. As we get ready for this new phase of life, when Mom & Dad will come to live with me and my family, there are more mixed feelings than I ever expected. I will miss this place more profoundly than I can imagine right now. It’s not just a chapter that’s closing, either. It’s like finishing a major series of books and packing them away in a trunk to be shipped away.
Having said that, I must say that there is such an advantage to what we’re doing. I look forward to seeing my parents more regularly and to be involved with each others’ lives again. I think we’re thoroughly going to enjoy each other’s company. But, make no mistake…I’m really going to miss this place. I knew this day would come, but now that it’s here, I had no idea what I was in for until now.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
An Unexpected Change of Plans
Many of our friends know that we've been talking to my parents about moving nearer to us. It's been something we've talked on and off with them for several years now. Recently, we've revisited the topic and I think that it may be time. However, yesterday things changed rather dramatically and we may be scrambling to catch up for a while.
Mom was in Athens yesterday (Athens is the next biggest town to Malakoff, which is, if anyone doesn't know, the center of the universe) and was going about her business and had a wreck. She was taken to the hospital here, but we don't know exactly what happened. We talked to my parents' insurance agent and she told us to get a police report and file a claim. Unfortunately, there's no way to get a police report in Athens over the weekend. So, I'm in Athens tonight, sitting in the East Texas Medical Center here, writing this blog, waiting for Monday to roll around so I can try to get my parents' affairs in order. I definitely didn't see myself being in this position yesterday. It's just a reminder of how quickly things can change.
Over the course of the day today, we've discovered more about Mom's condition. It turns out she has a heart condition that she knew about for a while. We knew a little about it, but it was a bit more serious than we had been made to believe. It was discovered while treating her cracked and bruised sternum, caused by either the seatbelt or the steering wheel during the wreck yesterday. Considering the circumstances - or at least what we've pieced together so far - we've been blessed that she is still here with us. It looks like there's a long road of recovery ahead of her. We likely will need to kick our plans, to have them move near to us, in high gear.
That's the nuts and bolts of what's going on here. However, I want to write about what's been going on around us throughout the day.
My parents' neighbor, Jeanette King, called me yesterday and told me what happened with Mom being involved in the wreck. After I got off the phone with her, I contacted my sister, Vicki and my wife, Danelle and told them what I had been told had happened. I didn't realize it, but the two of them started contacting family and friends by e-mail, phone and Facebook and by this morning there has been such an outpouring of love and concern that was nothing short of amazing.
So, as the day is winding down, I'm thankful for my family, friends and loved ones. Your prayers, love and concern mean more than you know. Look for updates on Mom's condition on Facebook in the coming days.
Mom was in Athens yesterday (Athens is the next biggest town to Malakoff, which is, if anyone doesn't know, the center of the universe) and was going about her business and had a wreck. She was taken to the hospital here, but we don't know exactly what happened. We talked to my parents' insurance agent and she told us to get a police report and file a claim. Unfortunately, there's no way to get a police report in Athens over the weekend. So, I'm in Athens tonight, sitting in the East Texas Medical Center here, writing this blog, waiting for Monday to roll around so I can try to get my parents' affairs in order. I definitely didn't see myself being in this position yesterday. It's just a reminder of how quickly things can change.
Over the course of the day today, we've discovered more about Mom's condition. It turns out she has a heart condition that she knew about for a while. We knew a little about it, but it was a bit more serious than we had been made to believe. It was discovered while treating her cracked and bruised sternum, caused by either the seatbelt or the steering wheel during the wreck yesterday. Considering the circumstances - or at least what we've pieced together so far - we've been blessed that she is still here with us. It looks like there's a long road of recovery ahead of her. We likely will need to kick our plans, to have them move near to us, in high gear.
That's the nuts and bolts of what's going on here. However, I want to write about what's been going on around us throughout the day.
My parents' neighbor, Jeanette King, called me yesterday and told me what happened with Mom being involved in the wreck. After I got off the phone with her, I contacted my sister, Vicki and my wife, Danelle and told them what I had been told had happened. I didn't realize it, but the two of them started contacting family and friends by e-mail, phone and Facebook and by this morning there has been such an outpouring of love and concern that was nothing short of amazing.
So, as the day is winding down, I'm thankful for my family, friends and loved ones. Your prayers, love and concern mean more than you know. Look for updates on Mom's condition on Facebook in the coming days.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Opinions Are Like...
One of my earliest memories of little league baseball came from one of my teammates' dad who was one of our coaches. It was one of those teaching moments that comes up during sports. Somebody was complaining about something, why this happened or that took place. Our coach turned to the player in the midst of his complaint and said "opinions are like assholes; everybody's got one and they all stink." Oops! Nobody dared say anything else.
I'm sure everyone has heard this at some point in their lives. The longer I live, the more I've come to agree with the statement. In fact, it seems I've come to develop opinions about other people's opinions along the way. As far as that goes, I'm sure other people have developed opinions about opinions about other opinions. Where does it end? Maybe I'm over-analyzing this, but is it appropriate to express an opinion at all? If it is, how does one go about expressing it?
First of all, I think before anybody opens their mouth about anything, they need to have respect for the people they are talking to. I've seen it too often (and unfortunately, I've operated like this) where a person thinks they're the only right person in the room. Those are the conversations where people come away frustrated, with hurt feelings. If a person honestly cares about people, they're going to be more careful than most about expressing their opinion. Period.
Secondly, it's important to be informed about whatever might be discussed. It is SO annoying to get involved in a discussion with someone who is BS'ing their way through it. It's just as annoying to talk to someone who is so immersed in their opinion that they can't relate or understand where the other person is coming from. If you don't know, shut up. You might learn something.
Lastly, and most importantly ( I think so, anyway), before ever saying anything, I think it is appropriate to ask ourselves "does what I have to say add to this discussion?" Chances are that it doesn't. If it doesn't, save it for another time when it might be appropriate. As I've learned, it's not a good thing to speak everything that comes to mind - no matter how good the intentions might be.
I think Christians have a lot to learn when it comes to interacting with each other and the rest of the world. We do have the right in this country to free speech and thank God for that. But, just because we can express ourselves freely as our personal right, it doesn't mean that we can say whatever we want to whenever we want to say it. If we consider ourselves to be at all "Spirit led" as we often claim, it would make sense then that the same Spirit could help us shut our mouths as well as open them.
I heard once, "God gave us two ears and one mouth and that should tell us something: he expects us to listen twice as much as we speak." If anything, that should make sense.
I'm sure everyone has heard this at some point in their lives. The longer I live, the more I've come to agree with the statement. In fact, it seems I've come to develop opinions about other people's opinions along the way. As far as that goes, I'm sure other people have developed opinions about opinions about other opinions. Where does it end? Maybe I'm over-analyzing this, but is it appropriate to express an opinion at all? If it is, how does one go about expressing it?
First of all, I think before anybody opens their mouth about anything, they need to have respect for the people they are talking to. I've seen it too often (and unfortunately, I've operated like this) where a person thinks they're the only right person in the room. Those are the conversations where people come away frustrated, with hurt feelings. If a person honestly cares about people, they're going to be more careful than most about expressing their opinion. Period.
Secondly, it's important to be informed about whatever might be discussed. It is SO annoying to get involved in a discussion with someone who is BS'ing their way through it. It's just as annoying to talk to someone who is so immersed in their opinion that they can't relate or understand where the other person is coming from. If you don't know, shut up. You might learn something.
Lastly, and most importantly ( I think so, anyway), before ever saying anything, I think it is appropriate to ask ourselves "does what I have to say add to this discussion?" Chances are that it doesn't. If it doesn't, save it for another time when it might be appropriate. As I've learned, it's not a good thing to speak everything that comes to mind - no matter how good the intentions might be.
I think Christians have a lot to learn when it comes to interacting with each other and the rest of the world. We do have the right in this country to free speech and thank God for that. But, just because we can express ourselves freely as our personal right, it doesn't mean that we can say whatever we want to whenever we want to say it. If we consider ourselves to be at all "Spirit led" as we often claim, it would make sense then that the same Spirit could help us shut our mouths as well as open them.
I heard once, "God gave us two ears and one mouth and that should tell us something: he expects us to listen twice as much as we speak." If anything, that should make sense.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
A Pretty Awesome Night
(I've been trying to get this posted for a week...)
I've been playing guitar and singing for about 22 years now (about 12 of those years were serious) most of which has been with some connection to the church. One of the main reasons I wanted to learn to play guitar and be able to sing with it was in order to lead worship at church. As many who knew me growing up probably know, the church music in those days wasn't conducive to guitars for accompaniment. I also played the drums, so it was easier to beat on things than actually play something that was unfamiliar.
Along the way, I discovered Vineyard Music, a music company that specialized in contemporary songs and arrangements for churches, written for a variety of instruments, particularly for the guitar. The discovery coincided with something called the Brownsville Revival in the mid-90's. An Assembly of God Church in Pensacola, Florida had nightly services for nearly 4 years, hosting visitors and pilgrims from around the globe and receiving national news coverage and even special reports at the same time. Lindell Cooley was in charge of the music and used Vineyard songs extensively. People from across the globe flocked to Pensacola to attend the revival meetings and came away singing the songs and took them back to their local congregations. One of those churches was Malakoff First Assembly of God, my home church.
I soon found out that there was more to the Vineyard catalog than just the songs that were played at Brownsville. At that time, a CD was released every quarter of the year with brand new songs on it. A separate songbook could be purchased that came complete with sheet music for piano, chord charts for guitar players and transparency masters for those who used a simple overhead projector to display song lyrics. (Later, these resources were saved on the CD, along with the audio tracks - a great resource) It probably seems so trivial now, but this was a big deal in 1997. I bought everything I could get my hands on and would learn to play it right away. Along the way, I started noticing the names of the people who wrote the songs. Brian Doerksen, David Ruis, Andy Park and John Barnett were just some of the prominent song writers at that time. Like I said before, I played as many of their songs as I could. Eventually, I ended up playing Andy's songs more than the rest. So, when I heard that Andy would be coming to our church in Conroe, I was going to be there. In fact, I sat on the front seat.
For about 90 minutes, Andy and his band played many of the songs I've played at one time or other in the same building. One of my friends said later "he played all your songs!" It was actually the other way around. Still, it was nice to meet Andy and sort of completed the evening for me. Of course, Andy is just an ordinary guy, and when I met him, it was no big deal. I told him I liked his songs and played a lot of them, to which he replied "good. I'm glad you do."
After the concert was done and we finally made it back home, I thumbed through the songbook and realized just how many of his songs I knew by heart or by sight. It's not that often we meet our role models. I'm glad he was the type that let me tell him how much I appreciate what he does.
I've been playing guitar and singing for about 22 years now (about 12 of those years were serious) most of which has been with some connection to the church. One of the main reasons I wanted to learn to play guitar and be able to sing with it was in order to lead worship at church. As many who knew me growing up probably know, the church music in those days wasn't conducive to guitars for accompaniment. I also played the drums, so it was easier to beat on things than actually play something that was unfamiliar.
Along the way, I discovered Vineyard Music, a music company that specialized in contemporary songs and arrangements for churches, written for a variety of instruments, particularly for the guitar. The discovery coincided with something called the Brownsville Revival in the mid-90's. An Assembly of God Church in Pensacola, Florida had nightly services for nearly 4 years, hosting visitors and pilgrims from around the globe and receiving national news coverage and even special reports at the same time. Lindell Cooley was in charge of the music and used Vineyard songs extensively. People from across the globe flocked to Pensacola to attend the revival meetings and came away singing the songs and took them back to their local congregations. One of those churches was Malakoff First Assembly of God, my home church.
I soon found out that there was more to the Vineyard catalog than just the songs that were played at Brownsville. At that time, a CD was released every quarter of the year with brand new songs on it. A separate songbook could be purchased that came complete with sheet music for piano, chord charts for guitar players and transparency masters for those who used a simple overhead projector to display song lyrics. (Later, these resources were saved on the CD, along with the audio tracks - a great resource) It probably seems so trivial now, but this was a big deal in 1997. I bought everything I could get my hands on and would learn to play it right away. Along the way, I started noticing the names of the people who wrote the songs. Brian Doerksen, David Ruis, Andy Park and John Barnett were just some of the prominent song writers at that time. Like I said before, I played as many of their songs as I could. Eventually, I ended up playing Andy's songs more than the rest. So, when I heard that Andy would be coming to our church in Conroe, I was going to be there. In fact, I sat on the front seat.
For about 90 minutes, Andy and his band played many of the songs I've played at one time or other in the same building. One of my friends said later "he played all your songs!" It was actually the other way around. Still, it was nice to meet Andy and sort of completed the evening for me. Of course, Andy is just an ordinary guy, and when I met him, it was no big deal. I told him I liked his songs and played a lot of them, to which he replied "good. I'm glad you do."
After the concert was done and we finally made it back home, I thumbed through the songbook and realized just how many of his songs I knew by heart or by sight. It's not that often we meet our role models. I'm glad he was the type that let me tell him how much I appreciate what he does.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Wow! What A Party!
Today, I had the privilege of being the front man for the band from the Vineyard Church of Conroe today in the "Go Texan Day" Parade in Conroe. This was made possible because our fearless leader, Raymond McDonald, came down sick recently (BTW, we wish you a speedy recovery, Bro. It ain't the same without you!) .
It was sort of like getting to start a baseball game because the ace of the pitching staff went on the DL. After our entrance into the parade last year, the bar had been set pretty high with Raymond playing his Texas Blues and newly written songs. At the same time, it was an incredibly exciting opportunity. Afterall, how often does a band get to play to an entire city?
Just like last year, we warmed up playing on the float, doing our drive-by jam through the streets of Conroe, to get in position near the Montgomery County Library. To add a little bit of drama this year, a fiesty cold front rolled into town about an hour before start time, forcing us to run for cover with anything musical or electrical (which was nearly everything). We scrambled to get everything set back up to be ready for the big kick-off and then were playing 90-to-nothin' for the next hour. It was a total blast! Still, in spite of the fun we had (It wasn't just the band. There was a band of Vineyardites in tow, handing out little trinkets from the church, spreading the love) from our vantage point, the city was having a pretty good time, too.
To me, the whole experience was a practical demonstration of what we talk about every Sunday and in every home group and church-related activity: expanding the Kingdom of God. The best part was that we were participating in a party and inviting the whole city to join in.
It was sort of like getting to start a baseball game because the ace of the pitching staff went on the DL. After our entrance into the parade last year, the bar had been set pretty high with Raymond playing his Texas Blues and newly written songs. At the same time, it was an incredibly exciting opportunity. Afterall, how often does a band get to play to an entire city?
Just like last year, we warmed up playing on the float, doing our drive-by jam through the streets of Conroe, to get in position near the Montgomery County Library. To add a little bit of drama this year, a fiesty cold front rolled into town about an hour before start time, forcing us to run for cover with anything musical or electrical (which was nearly everything). We scrambled to get everything set back up to be ready for the big kick-off and then were playing 90-to-nothin' for the next hour. It was a total blast! Still, in spite of the fun we had (It wasn't just the band. There was a band of Vineyardites in tow, handing out little trinkets from the church, spreading the love) from our vantage point, the city was having a pretty good time, too.
To me, the whole experience was a practical demonstration of what we talk about every Sunday and in every home group and church-related activity: expanding the Kingdom of God. The best part was that we were participating in a party and inviting the whole city to join in.
Friday, February 13, 2009
The Trials of Ted Haggard
I heard about the release of the documentary, The Trials of Ted Haggard, on HBO a few months ago while surfing for news. I missed its premiere, but I finally got around to watching it last night.
I'm hardly a fan of Ted Haggard. I didn't really care for him before he got in trouble. Like many, I scoffed when I heard that he was caught in sin. "How could he have done something so stupid!?" Since then, I've read many of the articles that have been written about the man and the vast attitude of public opinion against him. I don't - in any way - condone of his behavior. After all, for a person is in his position who was struggling like he says he was, it would have been far better to admit the problem and sought out help than to be openly exposed and caught by surprise. As my friend and pastor says, DISclosure BEFORE EXposure. In the eyes of public opinion, he's no better off than A-Rod or Miguel Tejada, much less Jimmy Swaggart, all of them asking for forgiveness after being caught in a really embarrassing situation.
I think the thing that surprised me, while watching the documentary, was how negatively the church, as a whole, had received him after he had admitted guilt and asked for forgiveness. I mean I understand the frustration and anger of the homosexual community. It reminds me of the Van Halen album OU812, released during the time of the string of scandals involving Jim Bakker, Jimmy Swaggart, Marvin Gorman and other prominent preachers in that day. People should be upset. Haggard wasn't truthful with his family or his church at first and finally had to admit the truth when other versions of the story emerged. The film mentions, as a footnote, that another allegation was made by a church member before the film was actually aired publicly. There's just no good way to dole out bad news.
This is the problem that I have with how the man was treated by the people he once led as pastor. According to what was reported in the documentary/movie, Haggard was made to move out of the house he owned, to leave the state of Colorado and never darken the door of New Life Church again. I understand people being hurt, angry, upset - whatever - over what the guy did. This guy blew it and fell hard. Anything involving the former head of the National Association of Evangelicals, the pastor of New Life Church and the host of hundreds of conventions around the country, it's next to impossible to keep it quiet.
I think the biggest tragedy isn't necessarily what happened to him and his family. I really feel for his wife and kids having had their lives uprooted and undermined because Haggard's actions. But the guy felt so alone that he couldn't go to someone and ask for help. That's huge and awful! He was afraid of being judged before, and based on how he's been treated, he was right to feel that way. As he says in the documentary, "I feared that if I admitted my struggle, I would lose my friends, my vocation - everything." Consequently, one of the overseers in leadership at New Life says in the video "We want Ted Haggard to just go away." Everyone who attends New Life should take note of this. They could one day be saying this about you. And in case someone might think they couldn't possibly do something like what Haggard did, remember "except for the grace of God..."
I think it should also be noted how everyone - as a whole - responded to this particular incident. Would it have been as harsh had he had committed adultery with a woman? I don't think so. There's more of a stigma for homosexual behavior. By saying that, I don't condone homosexual activity. But, lets be honest, homosexual activity is the hotbutton for American Christianity right now. If it came down to it, and the average person given the choice, most people would have preferred that he would have gotten caught with a woman - or a string of women - than to get caught like this.
What I keep coming back to is that I would expect this kind of response from the media. Ted Haggard's story is the "perfect storm" in journalism. "Superpreacher busted for doing what he preached against." There will be no mercy in that arena. But, to be effectively blacklisted and subsequently blackballed by the Christian Church? I think everyone should take a step back and consider what has taken place: a Christian brother is caught in sin. Period. Sin is sin, whether its viewing pornography, adultery, or cheating on taxes. We say we understand this, but we have our own idea of what's a little worse than the rest. In conservative circles, that would be homosexual behavior.
Like many who get entangled in sin (name your poison here), Ted Haggard tried to cover his tracks only to find he was getting out of control. Originally, the story was he met with the male prostitute once for a massage. Then that story grew to regular, monthly meetings. Then, somehow drugs were involved. Finally, there was someone else besides the prostitute. Unfortunately, that's how sin works - and we know this. We do something that we said we would never do and vow not to do it again. But, we do it again and make excuses for ourselves, based on our background or experiences. Sometimes we can even be confronted and respond with lies and deceit. Considering what Haggard said in the video, he felt he could not go to anyone for help. If he could have turned to someone for help, would he have taken the opportunity? We'll never know that. The truth is that things were out of control and he finally got exposed in the worst possible way.
Now, consider the next passage of scripture in light of this scenario:
"1Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. 2Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. 3If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself. 4Each one should test his own actions. Then he can take pride in himself, without comparing himself to somebody else, 5for each one should carry his own load." Galatians 6:1-5
I realize that the men involved in addressing the disciplinary action levied against Ted Haggard probably read this passage of scripture along with many others. Note the text - "if someone is caught in sin." It's as if the Apostle knew that people wouldn't likely come clean and admit their failures outright. No, they would probably get caught, one way or another. When they are, those who are spiritual have a responsibility to restore that one in the faith. The problem here isn't the fact that Ted Haggard lied and covered up his struggles, temptations and sin. He just revealed, what most of us knew all along, that at the end of the day we're all only human. No, the problem here is that when the church (in this case, New Life Church and its overseeing ministers) had the opportunity to be the agent of true healing for Ted Haggard, they chose to be his judge, jury and executioner. Rather than taking the responsibility of restoring this man to a level of respectibility in what was his own home (Ted Haggard says at one point that New Life was his life), he was banished like a leper. A 4-man panel of church overseers made the decision to deal with Ted Haggard like they did. They explain in a video (their response is shown briefly in the documentary) why they felt it necessary to deal with him the way they did. Yadda, yadda, yadda. They punted. Plain and simple. "Go away, Ted Haggard. Get help somewhere else."
I find it a curious question to ask, if they were found in the same circumstances, how would they want to be dealt with? If it were me, I would prefer this:
14 David said to Gad, "I am in deep distress. Let us fall into the hands of the LORD, for his mercy is great; but do not let me fall into the hands of men." 2nd Samuel 24:14.
Unfortunately, Ted Haggard learned just how harsh and true this passage could be.
I'm hardly a fan of Ted Haggard. I didn't really care for him before he got in trouble. Like many, I scoffed when I heard that he was caught in sin. "How could he have done something so stupid!?" Since then, I've read many of the articles that have been written about the man and the vast attitude of public opinion against him. I don't - in any way - condone of his behavior. After all, for a person is in his position who was struggling like he says he was, it would have been far better to admit the problem and sought out help than to be openly exposed and caught by surprise. As my friend and pastor says, DISclosure BEFORE EXposure. In the eyes of public opinion, he's no better off than A-Rod or Miguel Tejada, much less Jimmy Swaggart, all of them asking for forgiveness after being caught in a really embarrassing situation.
I think the thing that surprised me, while watching the documentary, was how negatively the church, as a whole, had received him after he had admitted guilt and asked for forgiveness. I mean I understand the frustration and anger of the homosexual community. It reminds me of the Van Halen album OU812, released during the time of the string of scandals involving Jim Bakker, Jimmy Swaggart, Marvin Gorman and other prominent preachers in that day. People should be upset. Haggard wasn't truthful with his family or his church at first and finally had to admit the truth when other versions of the story emerged. The film mentions, as a footnote, that another allegation was made by a church member before the film was actually aired publicly. There's just no good way to dole out bad news.
This is the problem that I have with how the man was treated by the people he once led as pastor. According to what was reported in the documentary/movie, Haggard was made to move out of the house he owned, to leave the state of Colorado and never darken the door of New Life Church again. I understand people being hurt, angry, upset - whatever - over what the guy did. This guy blew it and fell hard. Anything involving the former head of the National Association of Evangelicals, the pastor of New Life Church and the host of hundreds of conventions around the country, it's next to impossible to keep it quiet.
I think the biggest tragedy isn't necessarily what happened to him and his family. I really feel for his wife and kids having had their lives uprooted and undermined because Haggard's actions. But the guy felt so alone that he couldn't go to someone and ask for help. That's huge and awful! He was afraid of being judged before, and based on how he's been treated, he was right to feel that way. As he says in the documentary, "I feared that if I admitted my struggle, I would lose my friends, my vocation - everything." Consequently, one of the overseers in leadership at New Life says in the video "We want Ted Haggard to just go away." Everyone who attends New Life should take note of this. They could one day be saying this about you. And in case someone might think they couldn't possibly do something like what Haggard did, remember "except for the grace of God..."
I think it should also be noted how everyone - as a whole - responded to this particular incident. Would it have been as harsh had he had committed adultery with a woman? I don't think so. There's more of a stigma for homosexual behavior. By saying that, I don't condone homosexual activity. But, lets be honest, homosexual activity is the hotbutton for American Christianity right now. If it came down to it, and the average person given the choice, most people would have preferred that he would have gotten caught with a woman - or a string of women - than to get caught like this.
What I keep coming back to is that I would expect this kind of response from the media. Ted Haggard's story is the "perfect storm" in journalism. "Superpreacher busted for doing what he preached against." There will be no mercy in that arena. But, to be effectively blacklisted and subsequently blackballed by the Christian Church? I think everyone should take a step back and consider what has taken place: a Christian brother is caught in sin. Period. Sin is sin, whether its viewing pornography, adultery, or cheating on taxes. We say we understand this, but we have our own idea of what's a little worse than the rest. In conservative circles, that would be homosexual behavior.
Like many who get entangled in sin (name your poison here), Ted Haggard tried to cover his tracks only to find he was getting out of control. Originally, the story was he met with the male prostitute once for a massage. Then that story grew to regular, monthly meetings. Then, somehow drugs were involved. Finally, there was someone else besides the prostitute. Unfortunately, that's how sin works - and we know this. We do something that we said we would never do and vow not to do it again. But, we do it again and make excuses for ourselves, based on our background or experiences. Sometimes we can even be confronted and respond with lies and deceit. Considering what Haggard said in the video, he felt he could not go to anyone for help. If he could have turned to someone for help, would he have taken the opportunity? We'll never know that. The truth is that things were out of control and he finally got exposed in the worst possible way.
Now, consider the next passage of scripture in light of this scenario:
"1Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. 2Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ. 3If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself. 4Each one should test his own actions. Then he can take pride in himself, without comparing himself to somebody else, 5for each one should carry his own load." Galatians 6:1-5
I realize that the men involved in addressing the disciplinary action levied against Ted Haggard probably read this passage of scripture along with many others. Note the text - "if someone is caught in sin." It's as if the Apostle knew that people wouldn't likely come clean and admit their failures outright. No, they would probably get caught, one way or another. When they are, those who are spiritual have a responsibility to restore that one in the faith. The problem here isn't the fact that Ted Haggard lied and covered up his struggles, temptations and sin. He just revealed, what most of us knew all along, that at the end of the day we're all only human. No, the problem here is that when the church (in this case, New Life Church and its overseeing ministers) had the opportunity to be the agent of true healing for Ted Haggard, they chose to be his judge, jury and executioner. Rather than taking the responsibility of restoring this man to a level of respectibility in what was his own home (Ted Haggard says at one point that New Life was his life), he was banished like a leper. A 4-man panel of church overseers made the decision to deal with Ted Haggard like they did. They explain in a video (their response is shown briefly in the documentary) why they felt it necessary to deal with him the way they did. Yadda, yadda, yadda. They punted. Plain and simple. "Go away, Ted Haggard. Get help somewhere else."
I find it a curious question to ask, if they were found in the same circumstances, how would they want to be dealt with? If it were me, I would prefer this:
14 David said to Gad, "I am in deep distress. Let us fall into the hands of the LORD, for his mercy is great; but do not let me fall into the hands of men." 2nd Samuel 24:14.
Unfortunately, Ted Haggard learned just how harsh and true this passage could be.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
A-Fraud Is Just The Beginning...
When I heard about the Sports Illustrated story regarding A-Rod's positive test for steroids, I, like many others, wondered "what about the rest?" After all, there were 104 names on the list - including A-Fraud. Why haven't we heard about them, yet? I don't know if we'll ever get the answer to that question.
After reading A-Fraud's admission and subsequent comments regarding steroid use, he raises more questions and provides less answers. Are we supposed to believe the guy didn't know what he was taking? More importantly, are we supposed to believe he's sorry for doing it? I think he's sorry he got caught. I also think he's used PED's a lot longer than any of us will ever know.
But, A-Fraud isn't alone. There are many, more guys like him who took PED's and never thought the day would come that their performance would ever come into question. Look at Miguel Tejada. Look at Roger Clemens and his testimony on Capitol Hill. The guy gets named in the Mitchell Report and his denial sounds like that everyone else is lying but him.
I think the latest developments raises another important question: should we even care about baseball anymore. Should we? When the all-time leader in home runs and the winning-est pitcher in the modern, live-ball era are being investigated for possibly lying about their use of Performance Enhancing Drugs (PED's), what does that say for the sport?! The original leaders in those categories didn't have access to them but apparently didn't need them. What does that say about today's talent? I'm sure there were a lot of clean guys playing while the cheaters cheated. Still, every stat and record has become suspect and we're nowhere close to getting to the bottom of this mess. The only way we can is for baseball to "man-up" and get it the truth out there.
But, they probably won't. No, they're hoping this story goes away. The business of baseball wants fans to ignore these questions and come on out to the ballpark for another season. I've got a feeling that I'm not going to be one of them. I don't know that I even care.
After reading A-Fraud's admission and subsequent comments regarding steroid use, he raises more questions and provides less answers. Are we supposed to believe the guy didn't know what he was taking? More importantly, are we supposed to believe he's sorry for doing it? I think he's sorry he got caught. I also think he's used PED's a lot longer than any of us will ever know.
But, A-Fraud isn't alone. There are many, more guys like him who took PED's and never thought the day would come that their performance would ever come into question. Look at Miguel Tejada. Look at Roger Clemens and his testimony on Capitol Hill. The guy gets named in the Mitchell Report and his denial sounds like that everyone else is lying but him.
I think the latest developments raises another important question: should we even care about baseball anymore. Should we? When the all-time leader in home runs and the winning-est pitcher in the modern, live-ball era are being investigated for possibly lying about their use of Performance Enhancing Drugs (PED's), what does that say for the sport?! The original leaders in those categories didn't have access to them but apparently didn't need them. What does that say about today's talent? I'm sure there were a lot of clean guys playing while the cheaters cheated. Still, every stat and record has become suspect and we're nowhere close to getting to the bottom of this mess. The only way we can is for baseball to "man-up" and get it the truth out there.
But, they probably won't. No, they're hoping this story goes away. The business of baseball wants fans to ignore these questions and come on out to the ballpark for another season. I've got a feeling that I'm not going to be one of them. I don't know that I even care.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
A few days ago, I signed up for a Facebook account. My wife had been signed up for a couple of weeks and had been talking non-stop about it. She would go on and on about what her friends and family were telling her while she was online. So, I followed suit. My 16 year old daughter also signed up about the same time.
Since then, I've received almost 500 e-mails from Facebook. I've tagged probably a hundred pics of myself with people I've known over the past 30 years. I've posted 50 pics of my own and I'm scouring through old scrap books, year books and saved digital pictures so I can post them on Facebook, too. Would anyone happen to know how to convert VHS to digital video? I have some great footage from high school that I would LOVE to share online. See, this is how it goes.
Then, there's the people. I've heard the comedy routine (though I can't remember the comedian) that says the guy won't attend his high school class reunion. He says "why should I go? I didn't like those people then. Why would I want to see them now?" I have to say there are a few people that I wouldn't care to catch up with now that I'm all grown up. But, there are a lot more that I would like to know or find out where they are and how they're getting along. I started doing that earlier this week. All week long, I would take out time throughout the day to see who else I could catch up with. I talked to my college roommate on Thursday for about 30 minutes. I hadn't seen the guy in almost 20 years. I heard from many more that I hadn't seen or heard in at least that amount of time or any time since.
I've heard all sorts of things about Facebook, and it seems one of them is common: the word addictive. I would have to agree with that. Facebook IS addictive! It's exciting to catch up with people after a long hiatus. It's also riviting to wonder who you might hear from next. I will say one thing, I'd much rather say that I'm addicted to Facebook, than say to internet porn or anything else. Say "addicted to Facebook" and people will laugh or agree with you. Say "addicted to internet porn" and people flee like you have the plague.
Since then, I've received almost 500 e-mails from Facebook. I've tagged probably a hundred pics of myself with people I've known over the past 30 years. I've posted 50 pics of my own and I'm scouring through old scrap books, year books and saved digital pictures so I can post them on Facebook, too. Would anyone happen to know how to convert VHS to digital video? I have some great footage from high school that I would LOVE to share online. See, this is how it goes.
Then, there's the people. I've heard the comedy routine (though I can't remember the comedian) that says the guy won't attend his high school class reunion. He says "why should I go? I didn't like those people then. Why would I want to see them now?" I have to say there are a few people that I wouldn't care to catch up with now that I'm all grown up. But, there are a lot more that I would like to know or find out where they are and how they're getting along. I started doing that earlier this week. All week long, I would take out time throughout the day to see who else I could catch up with. I talked to my college roommate on Thursday for about 30 minutes. I hadn't seen the guy in almost 20 years. I heard from many more that I hadn't seen or heard in at least that amount of time or any time since.
I've heard all sorts of things about Facebook, and it seems one of them is common: the word addictive. I would have to agree with that. Facebook IS addictive! It's exciting to catch up with people after a long hiatus. It's also riviting to wonder who you might hear from next. I will say one thing, I'd much rather say that I'm addicted to Facebook, than say to internet porn or anything else. Say "addicted to Facebook" and people will laugh or agree with you. Say "addicted to internet porn" and people flee like you have the plague.
Friday, January 09, 2009
A Result I Can Live With
On the way to work this morning, I heard the announcement of the final NCAA football rankings for the 2008 season. The entire list can be seen here. Florida, fresh from knocking off No. 1 Oklahoma, is now No. 1 and recognized as the AP national champion. They are followed by the undefeated Utah Utes at No. 2. Then, fresh from their trouncing of Penn State in the Rose Bowl, it's USC at No. 3. Texas slipped to No.4 after surviving Ohio State in the Fiesta Bowl, but finished ahead of Oklahoma, who fell to No. 5.
It does seem a little odd that the 13-1, National Champ Gators are such, when the team right behind them finished the year 13-0. Of course everyone says that Florida and Utah are where they are because of the strength and/or weakness of their collective schedules. I know why things are the way they are. The BCS system is a money-maker and a playoff system isn't. It could be, but it would take innovation that noone in this country seems motivated to assert. I'm sure this won't be the last time people are disappointed by this system. But what if next year more non-BCS teams knock off the BCS members in the BCS championship series? Wouldn't that be a sight!? Perhaps the BCS era would finally come to the crashing ending it deserves. Sure, it's wishful thinking. But, really, what if...I'm getting way more excited about this than I ever intended.
At least the football gods saw fit to see to it that Texas finished ahead of Oklahoma in the polls this year. I guess the results of the Red River Rivalry actually did mean something afterall - and that makes sense.
It does seem a little odd that the 13-1, National Champ Gators are such, when the team right behind them finished the year 13-0. Of course everyone says that Florida and Utah are where they are because of the strength and/or weakness of their collective schedules. I know why things are the way they are. The BCS system is a money-maker and a playoff system isn't. It could be, but it would take innovation that noone in this country seems motivated to assert. I'm sure this won't be the last time people are disappointed by this system. But what if next year more non-BCS teams knock off the BCS members in the BCS championship series? Wouldn't that be a sight!? Perhaps the BCS era would finally come to the crashing ending it deserves. Sure, it's wishful thinking. But, really, what if...I'm getting way more excited about this than I ever intended.
At least the football gods saw fit to see to it that Texas finished ahead of Oklahoma in the polls this year. I guess the results of the Red River Rivalry actually did mean something afterall - and that makes sense.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Who's No. 1 Now?!
I have to chime in on the debate about the BCS championship game tonight. Oklahoma, a team that lost to the No. 3 team, Texas, by 10 points on a neutral field earlier this season was No. 1, by a computer's calculations. They were paired with the computer-ranked No. 2, Florida and lost on a neutral field. Florida's only loss, by a mere 1 point, came earlier in the year to a team that finished the season ranked No. 25, Ole Miss. Texas' only loss was by 6 points in the waning seconds of an away game by a Texas Tech team that had been ranked as high as No. 2 before a big loss to Oklahoma and Ole Miss in the Cotton Bowl.
So should No. 2 be No. 1 now? What about No. 3? What do the computers say? How about the coaches? Everyone knows anything knows the BCS system is a joke and this season should be reason enough to trash the system. With the national championship game in the rear-view mirror, has anything been resolved? It seems there's far more questions than answers. What about the nation's only undefeated team - Utah? I think I agree that Utah has as good a claim on national prominence as anyone. But, I'm still pulling for the Horns to get a piece of the title this year. Why not?
Hook 'em!
So should No. 2 be No. 1 now? What about No. 3? What do the computers say? How about the coaches? Everyone knows anything knows the BCS system is a joke and this season should be reason enough to trash the system. With the national championship game in the rear-view mirror, has anything been resolved? It seems there's far more questions than answers. What about the nation's only undefeated team - Utah? I think I agree that Utah has as good a claim on national prominence as anyone. But, I'm still pulling for the Horns to get a piece of the title this year. Why not?
Hook 'em!
Friday, January 02, 2009
Hope Abounds
"I will speak of your statutes before kings and will not be put to shame..." Psalm 119:46
As this new year begins, there are all sorts of uncertainties all around. Conflict in the middle-east is heating up, the financial state of the country is in total upheaval and the government is in the midst of significant transition. Many are concerned about the stability of their employment and those who are seeking jobs are finding that new jobs are hard to find. Like the story of "Chicken Little" everyone is is saying the sky is falling.
In the face of such uncertainty, where does one turn? Scripture is clear - those who trust the Lord will not be put to shame. At a time when so many are looking for answers, those who place their trust whole-heartedly in the Lord God can demonstrate the reality of His existence to an unbelieving world.
As one of the pastors at my church, the Vineyard Church of Conroe, Brian "the Distinguished Friar" Fox, has said "what better opportunity to demonstrate hope than when the world is crying out "the sky is falling" by living a life of thanksgiving to and trust in the living God.
It is my sincere hope, wish and prayer while surrounded by those who may be crying out that the "sky is falling" you will witness the goodness of God's provision and the reality of His grace in 2009.
As this new year begins, there are all sorts of uncertainties all around. Conflict in the middle-east is heating up, the financial state of the country is in total upheaval and the government is in the midst of significant transition. Many are concerned about the stability of their employment and those who are seeking jobs are finding that new jobs are hard to find. Like the story of "Chicken Little" everyone is is saying the sky is falling.
In the face of such uncertainty, where does one turn? Scripture is clear - those who trust the Lord will not be put to shame. At a time when so many are looking for answers, those who place their trust whole-heartedly in the Lord God can demonstrate the reality of His existence to an unbelieving world.
As one of the pastors at my church, the Vineyard Church of Conroe, Brian "the Distinguished Friar" Fox, has said "what better opportunity to demonstrate hope than when the world is crying out "the sky is falling" by living a life of thanksgiving to and trust in the living God.
It is my sincere hope, wish and prayer while surrounded by those who may be crying out that the "sky is falling" you will witness the goodness of God's provision and the reality of His grace in 2009.
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