froggetmenots

The Taking of Pelham 123

2010-07-05T13:42:00.003-04:00

John Travolta is bad-ass, and that's all there is to it. In The Taking of Pelham 123, accompanied by Denzel Washington, JT kicked it in his role as the mastermind behind the hijacking of a subway train and the accompanying Wall Street manipulation.

The only negative I'd heard prior to watching was the opinion one of my more sensitive acquaintances, who reportedly suggested the language was a bit strong for her. I can respect the opinion, and for sure the movie produced an abundance of f-bombs and other strong language, but without them it just wouldn't be the same. These were hardened criminals, fresh out of the pen, working through a highly-involved criminal act, and the language fits the roles. "Excuse me, sir, would you kindly meet my demands? If you don't, I'll think you're just plain ol' mean!", and anything less than rough talk wouldn't suffice.

Watch it, be thrilled, and root for who you want. The good guys are sometimes bad, the bad guys are sometimes good, and that makes deciding tough!

Facebook

2009-07-19T23:44:00.004-04:00

It seems all I've been doing lately is Facebooking. I know it's not new, but for some reason it has just been so enjoyable the past few months. I need to blog some more, so I'll remember what I was into these days when I look back way down the road. So, when I do finally look back to this post, I'll just be reminded of why the posts seem to be so few and far between-I was following more superficial pursuits! Is there hope for blogging?

Tim McGraw: Set This Circus Down

2009-04-13T22:35:00.006-04:00

I've had this album for a while, but recently put it back into spin during my weekend workouts, and I was pleasantly re-surprised at how solid it is. The wikipedia article about it says it's McGraw's seventh studio album, and I think it has to be one of his best. His earlier stuff seems a bit unpolished to me, while his later works are too pop for me (go ahead, Jabel, laugh at that one...). Circus seems to be the apex of what Tim McGraw has done so far, in my most humble opinion. My favorite 3 songs are, in this order: 1. Telluride, 2. The Cowboy In Me, and 3. Take Me Away From Here. Every track is splendid, though, so give it a whirl...

"You Found Me" by The Fray

2009-02-21T20:59:00.005-05:00

I picked up The Fray's eponymous new album this past week, and I'm overjoyed to report that they've scored another bomb. It's been said a million times in a million ways, but it's very difficult, it seems, for a band to come out with a successful follow-up to a wildly popular, sensational album that defines them. I think they've done it, though, and I must say I'm impressed.

There are several songs that score, but the one that's got me all wrapped up presently is "You Found Me", the third song on the disk. The sound is stellar, but it's the lyrics that have clutched my innermost self and wrenched strong emotions from me. Here's an overview:

"I found God, on the corner of 1st and Amistad, where the West was all but won. All alone...smoking his last cigarette. I said "Where've you been". He said, "Ask anything."

It's a haunting and arresting start to the song, for sure. I read some reviews somewhere, and one read that they were disappointed that God would be portrayed as smoking. At first, it took me back as well, but then I caught something. Perhaps it's just a clever way of saying that sometimes we find God in the most unlikely of places. Where we least expect to meet Him, sometimes He shows up and surprises us. And, of course, could the last 9 words of this verse be any more amazing. Man's angst meets God's affability. How many times have I angrily wondered where God could have been in my turmoil, only to find Him never getting defensive, and only welcoming.

"Where were you, when everything was falling apart. All my days, were spent by the telephone...that never rang. And all I needed was a call...that never came. To the corner of 1st and Amistad."

Have you done this? I know I have more times than I can recall. Asking God of His whereabouts has at times been a habit, and I've repeated it over and over and over. No message. No call. And seemingly, no interest in me. The silence of God is at times the most deafening event of all.

"Lost and insecure...you found me, you found me. Lying on the floor...surrounded, surrounded. Why'd you have to wait? Where were you? Where were you? Just a little late...You found me, you found me."

Down and out. Alone and quivering. All of life is not misery, but when miserable moments arrive, it seems there is and never will be anything more. Looking back, it's great to see myself being found, even when I'd thought there was no hope, and no chance for recovery. This is hope for the otherwise hopeless...being found by God.

"But in the end, everyone ends up alone. Losing her, the only one who's ever known: who I am, who I'm not, and who I wanna be. No way to know, how long she will be next to me."

And then a little more of the crises is known, and it appears that to the writer it's a future distress that has him troubled. Someone is going to end up alone. Our love will either die before us, or else we'll go before them. Or perhaps, someone will leave and never come back. Either way, someone winds up alone. And not just any someone, it's she who knows everything. I'll avoid revealing too much, but I feel strongly about AJ in this triplet, as she IS the "only one" who really knows me, who I am, am not, and want to be. It's sad sometimes to think of her one day not being by my side.

"The early morning, the city breaks. And I've been calling...for years and years and years and years. And you never left me no messages. You never sent me no letters. You've got some kind of nerve, taking all I want."

How many times have we wanted to express such passionate frustration at God? How many times have I hurled insult and heated anger at Him for "taking all I want". In all honesty, I've done so many times. And it amazes me that when I feel like I've been "calling...for years and years...", at the end of the solitude I'm found with the One who remains in spite of the loss of everything else. Even in the loss of that which is most precious, God yet remains.

This is a powerful song, and I'm sure there are as many interpretations of it's meaning as there are listeners. This post is simply a glimpse into the meaning it has for me. And here is another musical post driven deep into me, proving once again why music is the language of the soul...

PS-Watch a clip with the lyrics and the song here.

Christina: Moulin Rouge Revisited

2009-01-17T16:19:00.004-05:00

It's been a while since the movie Moulin Rouge hit the scene (2001, 1952), but I recently revisited the glitz and raucousness via the soundtrack. I try to put on an album when I'm chugging on my treadmill or laboring on my Bowflex, and this past week the album has kept me fully-charged and motivated to finish my workouts. Of course, my favorite part of the whole shebang is the role Christina Aguilera plays in the music, singing on the track Lady Marmalade. As I was stretching pre-run the other night, her angelic voice lit up the workout room and I asked Bos if he knew who was singing, and he said without a hitch "your HWOTP". Damn, I've trained him well! Anyway, on a less 15-year-old-boy-fantasy note, it did get me to thinking more adult, mature thoughts. (Not that kind, silly!) I mean, I just got to thinking about how great some of the musical based movies have been. Of course, Moulin was a great show, but so was Chicago and Rent. I started to watch Johnny Depp's Sweeney Todd, but diidn't finish it. It looks like it'll be good, but I'm not certain. Don't get me wrong, I like a lot of different movie genres, but I seem quite attracted to musicals. I'm wondering if there are any others that I should put in my que, and if seeing any of them live would add to my enjoyment, or turn me off. Cheers!

The Music of My Danse Macabre

2008-10-22T20:56:00.003-04:00

Soon enough, we'll be hearing bright and cheery airs as we stroll gaily toward "the most wonderful time of the year." Yeah, whatever, I ain't in the mood right now. So, that being said, I've got a few more days to satisfy my jones for all things death, all things haunted, all things...macabre. And, if I were going to celebrate the great Danse Macabre, I'd want a soundtrack, dammit! And so, here's the must have collection of albums with which to dance with the damned; to celebrate the dark beauty of a black-eyed, raven-haired vixen; to scream terror-laced rants at Mephistopheles as we drink to our blood-lust for all...things...wicked. Peace:

1. Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge by My Chemical Romance.
2. Hellbilly Deluxe by Rob Zombie.
3. Back in Black by AC/DC.
4. City of Evil by Avenged Sevenfold.
5. Fallen by Evanescence.
6. Appetite for Destruction by Guns N' Roses.
7. Highway to Hell by AC/DC.
8. Sing the Sorrow by AFI.
9. Lead Sails and a Paper Balloon by Atreyu.
10. Scream Aim Fire by Bullet for My Valentine.
11. Ten Thousands Fists by Disturbed.
12. Sinner by Drowning Pool.
13. Faceless by Godsmack.
14 Smells Like Children by Marilyn Manson.
15. In Love and Death by The Used.

Boo!

Relentless

2008-08-20T09:56:00.002-04:00

I've had Jason Aldean's Relentless album for a few months now, and I really do enjoy it. I hadn't paid a lot of attention to the title track, though, until recently for some reason. Let me just say one thing. If you don't know what love like the love described in the song is all about, I feel for you. I'm thankful that I found it. (Thanks AJ.). Some people go their entire lives looking for what I've got. That fact doesn't pass me unnoticed any day that I live. It's a constant. It never subsides. Love that's real. Love that's certain. Love that's, relentless...

Check out the lyrics here.

Watch the video here.

Steven Curtis Chapman on Larry King Live

2008-08-08T14:45:00.004-04:00

Wow. I'll let the program speak for itself, and not comment too much about the details, but I do want to make a quick mention of how much of an impact the interview of Steven Curtis Chapman (with friends, we affectionately refer to him as SCC, said "S C squared") and his family by Larry King made on me. My first, and foundational, thought is that the Chapman's illustrated for anyone who cares to know what a true Christian family is like. That's just my opinion, and I know there will be dissent with that appraisal, but nonetheless, I believe they are genuine, and "have it right". SCC's music has been a wellspring of inspiration for me for a number of years, and I owe to him and his songwriting a great deal of gratitude for spiritual guidance, affirmation and blessing. You owe it to yourself to watch the show, and to share in the grief of a family over a lost child, and the grace of God that is bigger even than that. In parting, I'm leaving a list of my fav 5 SCC songs:

5. Dive
4. Lord of the Dance
3. For the Sake of the Call
2. Live Out Loud
1. See the Glory

As of right now, you can watch a part of the interview here. I'm sure in the coming days (or perhaps even now somewhere), you can watch it in it's entirety.

Some Recent Summertime Musings

2008-07-02T17:02:00.002-04:00

It's been an enjoyable summer so far. Of course, I am made for this time of the year, so that I'm living so happily at the present time is really no surprise, but I needed an opening statement, so now that that's out of the way, I'll proceed to my musings, in no certain order, of course (you're welcome JA).
First of all, I should mention my fire-pit. A few weeks ago I decided it was time to build one of my own. I've always thought a nice fire-pit looked like the perfect place to listen to some good music, drink a good beer or so, and chat up whatever friends I could persuade to stop by. I did a lot of research (i.e., googled fire-pits) and decided to construct one that was both practical and aesthetically pleasing to me. It seems there's a lot more debate about what's practical and attractive, hence the seemingly unnecessary "to me" at the end of the previous sentence. "I" decided to create a fire-pit that is about a foot and a half deep (with a brick size additional six inch rectangle cut in the bottom middle of the area for proper drainage), three feet in diameter, walled up to ground level with bricks and topped with good ol' rough Indiana limestone (which I took from a rock cut by the highway). I broke up into many small pieces some of the stone and used it, along with some sand, to fill the circle and voila', I was finished. Now that it took me 10 hours one Saturday to do this seems absurd, but there really was a lot of hard work involved. Which, might I interject, is a wonderful respite for my keystroking, screen-watching, flourescent light bathing on a regular basis self! I had hired a great guy (seriously, call me if you need this) to cut down a couple of very tall trees in my yard that I was afraid could topple on my house at any time, and once all the cuttin' was done I kept for myself 6 large pieces of the trees for seats around me as then unbuilt fire-pit, and they are serving their purpose perfectly. The whole outfit is a rugged-looking, but (to me, at least) awe-inspiring piece of art. It is a reflection of my naturalist side, and nestled between my garage (plenty far enough away, don't worry) and the woods behind my house, it provides me with an escape from the mostly friendly, but restrictive nonetheless confines of house and office. Perhaps I should post a picture, maybe I will, but for now I'll just say it has already provided me with a set of unforgettable adventures. My boys love it, my friends seem to enjoy it, and I am thrilled to have it fifty feet from my home office. Most recently my bestest of buds, Jabel, and his splendid wife and darling daughter joined myself, aj and our four yahoo's for a foray around the fire enjoying the perfect weather and refreshments. Life is good.
Other things have crossed my mind recently as well, though, and although not as word worthy (for now) as my fire-pit, I'll sprinkle a few of them down so all can know what's been happening in my little world. A couple of weekends ago aj and I went to see Rascal Flatt's in concert at Verizon in Indy. It was a great time, and she's gracious enough not to point it out, I should've taken a blanket. She suggested, I protested, we went blanketless, and the ground was a spot moist. But, I'll not complain, for along with the RF boys we saw Taylor Swift (don't laugh, it wasn't all that bad!), and Soggy Bottoms. Not the band, just the butts. AJ's in particular.
I came across a phrase today I'd not heard before, "global village". I'm not sure what to do with it right now, but it has a neat feel. Perhaps if we all felt as if we were village-mates, we wouldn't be hatin' so much. Damn the world needs Bob Marley back...
I also read a couple of interesting things about Casanova today. The man, not the movie. The latter was interesting, and Heath Ledger (God rest his soul) pulled himself up marvelously from his strange, er, encounters on Brokeback Mountain to make it so, but it's the former that I looked in on today. On the web's greatest site, Arts & Letters Daily, I came across an interesting review of a book about the loverman himself, and found he was quite as experienced as I've heard. Check it out here.
Last weekend I went with my boys and aj and her youngins to see Wall-E. Cute, cute, cute.
Earlier this week I watched a few minutes of the VH1 documentary on "The History of Rock and Roll". Buy it for me here. Just kidding. Unless, of course, you're gonna do it. It was fascinating, to say the least.
Baseball season for my boys is coming to a close. Boston's Boys Club team, the Mariners, unexpectedly went "from worst to first" in their tournament last weekend, and it was a dynamic event. They won only two games during the regular season, but come tourney time they rose to the occasion and won it all. He has been playing catcher a lot this year, and I well up with so much pride watching him back there working as hard as an 11-year old boy can. Britain finished up his Lawrence County tourney after getting ousted in the first round. No worries, he'll be back. As a matter of fact, though only 9 Brit stepped up a league to play on Bos's Lawrence County 11-12 year old team, the Cubs, and has wound up pitching in several of the games. I'm quite proud of his undaunted courage playing against boys that are much larger than he is. He's a trooper. And, it's a lotta fun for me as a dad watching one son pitch while the other one catches. It's like the toss they've been playing out on the lawn since they could barely walk, except in a bigger yard. In a related note, I picked up Steven Curtis Chapman's latest album recently, on which is a brilliant song called "Proud". Wow, it's amazing, check it out.
Well, that's about it. Your assignment for the week is to check out album by Vampire Weekend by the same name, especially the track "Oxford Comma". Peace...

The World's Luckiest Obsessor

2008-04-03T06:42:00.003-04:00

I'm not sure which of God's angels are responsible for passing out obsessions when us mortals enter this world, but I frequently thank the stars for the one I've been given. Honestly, could I have been given a better target for my most intense fascination? Well, to be true, I reckon everyone feels thus about their object of desire, their finest flower, their one and only unreachable attraction, so I'll not dis the fellers hooked on John Deere or the gals jived up on Prada handbags. But thanks again and again Higher Power for my obsessing over Christina Aguilera.

It's been almost a year since aj took me to see my Muse in person, and as I recall the event it's with loads of pleasant memories that I reflect on the singing, the choreography and awe-inspiring performance of the HWOTP. (Of course, I must add right here smack dab in the middle of my laudatory remarks on X-tina that the concert was only eclipsed by the brilliant times spent with aj on our wild and wacky road trip surrounding the show!).

A couple months ago, for V-Day in fact, aj bought me the DVD box-set of the Back To Basics tour, and we've watched the production with bated breath and miles of smiles. I sit spellbound and entranced through each step and across every note. I highly recommend you watch and enter the ethereal realm of what being high is all about.

So, since it's been a minute since I've posted a pic or word about my favorite artist, I thought I'd jot down a snippet about what's at the core of my obsession.

She's blonde. She's beautiful. She's brilliant.

In her glory I bask.

I am blessed.

Unabashedly A Backstreet Fan

2008-04-03T06:27:00.004-04:00

I guess this post will propel my lack of homophobia to the forefront with a lotta peeps, but I couldn't care less;) I have become a big-time Backstreet Boys fan. I just picked up their latest album Unbreakable (pictured), and am quite enamored of the project.

Every artist and album has a unique feel to it, and I'd have to say Backstreet music is BIG. It seems to fill the room, or the car, or wherever, and shoots wave after wave of fun and power song after song.

Their previous release, Never Gone, was the one that hooked me. The records and Poster Girl and Weird World from that one are my fav's, but there are some more recognizable tunes on it as well.

Perhaps their truest title to date, though, is on this latest offering. The song Love Will Keep You Up All Night...wow, will it ever?!?!

System Of A Down & Michael Pollan

2008-02-20T14:49:00.003-05:00

Very few would be as odd as I and enjoy this tandem. But this is what my day has consisted of. It's been a day for reconnecting, and these, two of my companions in days past, have resurfaced with a vengeance.
It's been a while since I spun some SOAD, so I decided today-on a whim-that I'd give 'em a whirl from their oldest album up through their latest. Yeah, I'm strange like that. But as the sonic hatefulness, sarcasm and stupidity echoed in my brain I found myself visiting another old friend because I discovered he's written a new book.
Michael Pollan recently dropped a follow-up to his smashing success The Omnivore's Dilemma, which I read last year with much enthusiasm. This new title, In Defense of Food, reportedly"takes up where the previous work left off." His mantra in Dilemma was a carry-over he's proclaimed for some time concerning dietary advice. "Eat Food. Not Too Much. Mostly Plants." Perhaps it's fate, but for the record SOAD's Soil is playing in the background as I type this post.
Anyway, seeing I can't get to the bookstore or library today, I've resorted to resuming my path through Pollan's articles on his website. I didn't get too far on my quest last year, but perhaps I'll stick with it this time. I'm reading A Gardener's Guide to Sex, Politics and Class. It's a rip-roaring garden-esque, green-thumb read, but I enjoy it although I've never nursed a single plant to long life. Well, in my mind I have, for there I have planted a garden of flowers and trees and shrubs and plants interspersed with statues, fountains and benches. Oh, and a hammock. It's a quiet place, and the perfect space for me to read the latest Grisham novel.
So, with this fascination and planning for old age garden days, I reverently tread through the vegetative focus of the brilliant Pollan. And, for the record, my plants will listen to rock-and-roll, no doubt plenty of which will be SOAD. Audio A told me they could, and wouldn't go to hell.

Proposing An E-Food Pyramid In The Fight Against Cultural Obesity

2008-02-19T15:48:00.002-05:00

Perhaps it's just that I was ripe to be taken with an article such as this, seeing I'd just spent half an hour trying to find justification for an opinion I've been carrying around. No, that's not a long time, but in the time frame of electronic information it's a veritable eternity! Furthermore, it's not that I didn't find my opinion justified, it's just that the opposing viewpoints themselves were so carefully calculated, and well-written, that I almost thought about giving up. Actually, I did. And at the end of these eons of e-time I've wound up right back where I started: uncertain whether or not I should keep my opinion.

Now, I've kept the subject of my perplexity secret for a reason, namely that it's immaterial. Tomorrow will bring another dilemma, and I'll be careening across the web searching for information on some other, completely unrelated, topic. But I digress. The point of it all is this. In searching for answers, it's nigh unto impossible to sift through the information available and come to any degree of satisfaction or conclusion on just about anything these days. I mean, seriously, with millions of opinions at my fingertips, all with slight variations that may or may not be comparable to my situation, how am I to choose? At random, as in select only 10 articles and go with the majority? Perhaps I can consult only the trusted advisers, but then I limit myself and wonder if Mr. Unheard Of over in Topeka might just have a nice little say on the matter that would make matters perfectly clear for me. Who's to say.

This all came about with a quick scan of one of my favorite places on the Internet, Arts & Letters Daily. It's never let down, but, once again, has caused my mind to whirl at a breakneck speed, ready to explode at any moment. The article I read was a book review about cultural obesity. Check it out, and leave me a comment if you want. If no comment seems appropriate, I understand. But, you owe it to yourself to at least let the matter be presented to you. Cheers...

Yellowcard: Paper Walls

2008-02-11T19:45:00.000-05:00

This is strictly an album plug, without much in addition. I usually find bands going down-hill after a stellar first album or two, but in the case of Yellowcard, they've trampled that view with this their latest album, Paper Walls. Wow!

The first five songs are absolutely remarkable, in my opinion, with the remaining songs only slightly below that level. The album opens with The Takedown, and the opening line of the chorus is haunting:

"Don't turn your back on me now, you can't do this..."

The second track is Fighting, and since the first or second spin my youngest son, Britain, has frequently been found around the house singing it unashamedly:

"What am I fighting for? There must be something more..."

I could go on and on...what a great production.

Brad Paisley: Letter To Me

2008-01-21T13:53:00.001-05:00

Brad Paisley writes and records a number of outstanding songs, and it seems like the well of inspiration and creativity is bottomless since he is so consistent with releasing not just music, but life-changing, powerful and highly entertaining music. His latest song, Letter To Me, has been making a profound impact on me of late, and I wanna share it with you. Click here for the lyrics, and here to watch the video.

There are a number of things about this song that have been hittin' at me pretty hard over the last few weeks, and in fact just this morning I woke up with a line of the chorus rolling over and over in my mind. You know, sometimes that's just annoying, but other times it seems to be refreshing, motivating and uplifting. Today it was the latter. I'll not cover it all, but below is a list detailing a few of the lines in the song that either bring back memories or cause me to appreciate both my life and the life of my boys playing out in front of me. Let me know what you think about the song and if it does for you what it does for me...

"If I could write a letter to me,
and send it back in time to myself at seventeen,
first I'd prove it's me by sayin', look under your bed,
there's a Skoal can and a Playboy, no one else would know you hid"

Well, by seventeen chew and porn was out of my system, but I remember the feelings associated with each and just laugh about it today. I had a tree house in the back yard where I kept my Skoal, and chewed it even though I thought it was gross and made me sick because I thought it would make me cool with the neighborhood boys. I was pretty good at hidin' the porn, too, and only got caught with it "under my bed" once. I was humiliated. But, again, although the sight of a naked woman is quite naturally impressive to young manhood, I'd say my biggest reason for looking was like the Skoal, to "be cool". One porn story that still cracks me up, though, is the video one of my gal-pals from Messina found in her parents room and brought to school. No, it wasn't homemade, but it was old as all get out and quite hilarious. We got a lot of giggles out of that one...

"and then I'd say I know it's tough
when you break up after 7 months
and yeah I know you really liked her and it just doesn't seem fair
but all I can say is pain like that is fast and it's rare"

How crazy is it to be a teenager navigating the dark and mysterious waters of dating life. Most of the girls I went with were quite superficial, and our times together were more hangin' out than anything deep and meaningful. I only had a couple of "serious" relationships to speak of, but mostly I was overcome with the nervousness and shyness typical to those of us who weren't a.) The Quarterback, b.) The Hunk, or c.) Mr. Personality. As a matter of fact, I didn't even come close to any of those (well, I did play QB in practice a few times in Junior High, but soon got relegated to fullback because I wasn't as good throwing the ball on the field as I was in my head!), so I missed a lot, I think. But I do remember how it felt going to school dances, going to the movies, going to parties, all full of leaving the house with big plans, and coming home with bigger regrets.

"And oh, you got so much goin' for you, goin' right
but I know, at 17, it's hard to see past Friday night..."

This is what I woke up with this morning, and have been thinkin' most about recently. I think this one mostly hits me concerning my boys. Yeah, I'd like to let myself know back then as a teenager that even when things seemed to be difficult, there was a foundation being laid for my life and the person I am today is built upon not just the successes but also the failures of that time. My boys are 11 & 9, and as I watch them mature and enter into the next stage in their development I just want to speak encouragement and enthusiasm into their lives. My oldest will be in middle school next year, and oh how I remember things changing in 6th, 7th and 8th grade for me. Middle school is like the blast at the start of a roller coaster; one minute your sitting still in elementary school, playing GI Joe's and watching Inspector Gadget, the next moment you're hurled from 0 to 60 in a flash and you hit high school with all of its' loop-de-loops and barrel-rolls and corkscrews and end up an adult with wild hair, teary eyes and a "what the hell just happened" expression on your face. The only difference is you can't go back and do it all again. But one thing you, and I, can do is to be there for the next group about to ride. I'll tell my boys to buckle up, it's gonna be bumpy; keep your eyes open 'cause you won't wanna miss the views; scream without inhibition because you're allowed and it's a high different than any you'll ever experience (not necessarily better, just different); and don't be timid, just stay safe.

"each and every time you have a fight
just assume you're wrong and daddy's right"

For me it was mom, but that's not important just now. What is important is the fact that her reasoning was based on a parent's love, and not with malicious intent. As much as I thought otherwise, her disagreements with me weren't out of ill-will, but rather out of an "I've been there before, I just wanna help you avoid my mistakes" attitude. In a lot of ways, I wish I'd known then what I know now. The best way for me to describe it is like this: if you've ever done something for your kids that they had no idea you'd done, and then stand back and watch them enjoy this seemingly gratuitous blessing with no thanks whatsoever, and it doesn't bother you, then you know what a parent's love is all about. It could be something simple like putting a cookie by the X-Box 360, or risking life and limb to climb down the steep hill behind the house to retrieve a basketball while they're gone, just because in a few hours they'll be there and wish they could find it. That's what it's all about, and I've come to realize that as many times as I've done things like this for my boys, 1000 more have been done for me by my mom. I'll just insert a line to mom here: Mom, I didn't see 'em then, but I do now. Thanks for everything you gave and did that I didn't even know came from you. That's love.

"And you should really thank Miss Brinkman
she spent so much extra time
It's like she sees the diamond underneath
and she's polishin' you till you shine"

I can't help but imagine a gangly, teenage Brad Paisley struggling with a song in choir, or a guitar lesson, frustrated as all get-out, and just a few feet away is a dedicated teacher knowing that beyond the missed notes and off-key vocals is a star. I know not every kid is destined to be a music, sports or Hollywood star, but I wonder how many would achieve greatness if someone helped them hone their skills and talents to a high-degree. I wonder how many falter beneath the load they carry alone, with no one shouting encouragement to them through the pain. This is such a meaningful part of the song, and one I wanna be sure to catch.

"You got so much up ahead, you'll make new friends,
you should see your kids and wife
and I'll end by sayin' have no fear, these are nowhere near
the best years of your life"

Wow. So many songs have painted an attitude of looking back with regret and missin' our younger years. I honestly say that for me the view in this song is closer to the truth. My life is at an all-time high right now, and though I'd love to go back and relive a few things , I wouldn't wanna go back for good. I forged a lot of friendships in those years, most of which are gone, but the ones that remain are priceless. Jeremy Abel is one of the best mates a guy could ask for, but his kind is rare. I've made a lot of new friends to go along with Jabel, and most of the ones I had back then have gone on in other directions, probably to never be close to again. Oh, and as much as I enjoyed a few of my baseball seasons, I wouldn't give up one of my sons games just to be able to go back and relive my own. I have an unbelievable amount of more fun at their games than I ever had in mine, but if you'd have told me that when I was 15 I'd have said you were crazy. But I would've been wrong, for sure. My guys make bein' 32 the best year of my life, and it just gets better as we go along.

"p.s. go hug aunt Rita every chance you get..."

This one brought tears to my eyes as I remembered my papaw Phillips. The death of a close loved one seems to happen so quickly, and for me there was no amount of preparation I could've made to handle losing Papaw. By far the strongest male influence of my life, I still feel lost to this day at times without him. But I soon regain my composure as I realize he wouldn't want it that way. He'd want me to suck it up and be a man, and handle my problems the way he handled his, with grit, determination, tenacity and a will to live. Thanks, Papaw, I just wish I'd have hugged you a few more times before I had to say goodbye...

Maybe someday I'll take Brad Paisley's advice and write a letter to myself. I'm sure it'd be therapeutic in a lot of ways, and I'd probably have to white out a few lines for fear of it falling into the wrong hands. But one things for certain: it sure is a good feeling being alive, and I don't want to let one moment pass without being thankful that I've been given this privilege. To all my friends and family, I'll say I love you here, and thanks for being such a blessing to me. All of you. Now let's go live the rest of our lives!

Right-Handed Post (Shhh, Don't Tell My Left Hand)

2008-01-18T12:30:00.000-05:00

(For you who watch Family Guy, the following is best read in a voice imitating Tricia Takanawa.) In an effort to select a verse from the Holy Scriptures to follow to the letter, I am typing this post with only my right hand. According to the NASB, in Matthew 6:33 we read "...do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing." I know it seems like a simple command, but it's actually one of the more difficult ones in the entire Word of God! The whole time I've been striking the keys, my left hand has attempted to escape from my pants pocket where I've coaxed it to find my car keys. In fact, and here's the ruse, I secretly reached into that pocket with my right hand while my left was scratching my ear earlier today, and removed the keys to a distant location. But now, the left hand seems to be catching onto the trickery, and I'm having a difficult time keeping him in there. With that being said, I'll hurry and finish this little experiment, but before I do, allow me to link you to my inspiration for following the Bible to the letter, out of context, in a completely self-serving, seemingly pious way. Let me know what you think, and what other verses come to mind as doable in this vein. Click here to be inspired...

Kings Of Leon

2008-01-10T11:09:00.000-05:00

Although I'd heard of them several months ago, I'd never taken the effort to review the band Kings of Leon until a recent trip to the library changed all that. I stopped by the ol' BPL a few Fridays ago looking for some new Christmas music to inspire me and to listen to on my long commutes, and while there I glanced quickly at the pop and rock sections to see if anything new had crept in. I saw this album, Because of the Times, and decided on a whim to pick it up and give it a whirl. Interestingly enough, I also picked up Bruce Springsteen's Devils And Dust album along with several others, and since they weren't holiday tunes I tucked them in my closet for later review. One Saturday (after renewing my library loan!), I decided to throw a few on the changer while I was cleaning my house (yes, I'm a bachelor, so I have to do it myself until I can afford one of them French Maids...), just to see how everything sounded. Anyway, this is all relevant because of what happened next. As the changer moved through some of the more familiar artists, such as Rihanna, Jimmy Eat World, and others, this album came on while I was in the shower. Literally, while I was in the shower. Here's where it gets crazy. I t-totally thought it was Springsteen. I thought to myself, "Damn, self, The Boss is back with a vengeance! This ain't your father's Bruce Springsteen!" I proceeded to tell a few friends how cool the Devils and Dust album was, and that I was quite impressed with Brucie's reemergence to popularity, and wondered how I'd missed such a terrific collection of music. This went on for days, until I opened the cover looking for this shag-nasty Charmer song, only to find it wasn't there. (Digression: I DID find an old-man fellatio song, though...um, weird. Really weird.) Anyway, once I realized my error I went to my changer, popped out the cd's and looked just to make sure. Sure 'nuf, 'twas KOL instead of BS. Talk about a bunch BS! I've been retracing my steps and tellin' my buds that I erred, and that although Boss man is still cool, these Kings of Leon dudes are DY-no-MITE! Their music and sound is fresh and familiar at the same time, sorta like the southern rock of yore with a modern, current vibe. Also of interest to me is the background of the band. According to this article the boys that make up 3/4 of the band were the sons of a traveling Pentecostal preacher, and incorporated into their music is a bit of the effect church services have had on them. This seems to be especially the case on Charmer.

Hiatus

2008-01-03T13:12:00.000-05:00

The whole world of blogging is still relatively fresh on our plates, and we've yet to fully recognize the benefits and liabilities inherent in this method of communication. I've suffered an interruption in the continuity of my work, otherwise known as being on hiatus, for a couple of months. If you're reading this, the world has not ended. Why mention these two things back to back? Because I've had an epiphany, of sorts. I've always felt as though I should apologize for or explain my occasional wide gaps between posts, but today, I see things differently. My blog is a place for me to paste on your computer (or smartphone!) screen some of the goings on of my life, and if you get kicked with an urge to do so, you can surf on over and take a peek. But it's not your food, drink or air, so I don't feel bad if it's weeks or months between posts for me. Besides, if you REALLY wanna know anything about me, I'm accessible most of the time, so in the spirit of Kim Possible:

Call me
Beep me
If ya wanna reach me
When ya wanna page me it’s OK
Whenever you need me baby
Call me
Beep me
If ya wanna reach me

Other than that, I think I'm back for a while. Sorry...It's just that I was busy, and I...

Psychological Neoteny

2007-11-20T16:04:00.000-05:00

A few months ago I posted an excerpt from Michael Crichton's book Next. I'd forgotten about it until an anonymous commenter dropped me a link to point out that Crichton didn't create the story about psychological neoteny, a theory positing that "...many older people simply never achieve mental adulthood". In fact, Bruce Charlton is a real person and really has created the theory Crichton borrowed for Next. The Discovery Channel article is much more detailed than the portion quoted in Crichton's novel, and is quite interesting. Do you seem to exhibit some of these characteristics? Do you feel as if you're immature? Hmmm...

My Inner European

2007-11-19T11:55:00.001-05:00

Your Inner European is Dutch!

Open minded and tolerant.
You're up for just about anything.

Who's Your Inner European?

Saw this over at phantasmagorical, loved his sexy boots, and thought I'd post mine here. I have Pennsylvania Dutch family. Ironic? You decide...

I Bear In My Body The Marks...

2007-11-12T10:56:00.001-05:00

...of Aesop Rock. My first tattoo was inked this past weekend, under my left wrist. The totally dope P-Nut at Little Blue's Tattoo's in Bloomington did the honors for me, and he came highly recommended by friends and acquaintances. You'll have to ch-check him out should you need some marks for yo'self.

Now, as for the inspiration for the art, just peruse a minute on the lyrics to Aesop's song Labor. Near the end of the record you get these lines: "I am a star really!....And I work till this here little flat line closes the curtains." You can read about the artist here. It's all about hard work and responsibility, without which I don't expect to reach my goals. Peace!

Hmmm...Wishful Hoping?

2007-10-31T20:41:00.000-04:00

I read today of an interesting quote by Lewis Smedes in his book Keeping Hope Alive. It speaks of his suggestion that hope "is a combination of wishing, imagining, and believing for things in an unknown future. Hope is the spiritual power for living successfully as creatures endowed with godlike ability to imagine the future but stuck with humanlike inability to control it." A little later he's paraphrased like this: "...our spirits were made to hope, just as our hearts were made to love, our brains were made to think, and our hands were made to create things."

Now, this is personally interesting because it suggests to me that I can have hope in Christ without being certain of even His existence. I can wish the Bible accounts of redemption and such are true, I can imagine that Heaven is a real place prepared for us by a loving Father, and then I can believe that a personal relationship with Christ is possible, all without having any certain proof that any of it is "real".

Furthermore, I'm beginning to think that my personal experience has been that of owning a lemon. If religion is merely the vehicle of spirituality, in which one expresses his/her faith, then the religion I was a part of for a chunk of my life was the problem, and not the spirituality I found there. I've maintained an inward distinction between the form of religious activities I was a part of and the belief I held while participating in them. This has allowed me to believe that what I've experienced is "real", while the bitter feelings I've harbored have been the result of a major engine failure in my spiritual vehicle. Hmmm, the jury, as it were, is still out, but I think I may be on to something for myself here.

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

2007-10-19T13:29:00.000-04:00

I watched The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford last night. My earlier reflections on 3:10 To Yuma revealed a fascination with western-style films, and now I can add another one to my favorites of the genre. Although lacking in action, the dialog and imagery were fantastic. Even the sometimes cheesy, sometimes tinny soundtrack was exceptional, fitting in with the scenes seamlessly, like the comfortable, though silent, accompaniment of a dog on a walk. The most phenomenal part of the movie for me, though, was the character and acting of Casey Affleck. Wow, what a performance! That he was playing a difficult role is an understatement, and though he was asked to nail it in the shadow of one of Hollywood's biggest names, Brad Pitt, he pulled it off swimmingly. The lingering effect of the story and the remembrance of scene after stellar scene fresh in my mind has created a melancholy pleasantness for me today. The weather today perfectly fits the mood; overcast, chilly, breezy, glum. But alas, I must not overlook the quality of the lead character's portrayal of a neurotic, confused, slightly stupid Jesse James. Brad Pitt played his part without a hitch. I suppose the only reason I'm gushing over Affleck is that it came as a surprise to me. But Brad Pitt, who I expected to do well, sold me once again on his ability. I don't know that it's his best, but I think I can safely say this is my favorite role for him. Bouncing back to Affleck for a second, the one disturbing (if that's not overstated) factor is that I can't imagine him ever being in a movie again. It's as if when the movie ended his acting, and his character, faded to black. I don't mean this in a negative sense, just that he carried it out with such perfection the two, the historical figure and the modern-day reteller, became one. Casey Affleck will certainly emerge on the big screen again, but I'll forever see him in a slightly tattered derby.

Thomas More: Utopia

2007-10-18T11:35:00.000-04:00

Just now I've finished the middle section of the 36th volume of the Harvard Classics, Thomas More's Utopia. Having only a minimal recognition of the work prior to delving into it, I was completely unaware of what to expect. The First Book was difficult, but necessary to understand the groundwork of the fantasy island and the role of Raphael Hythloday, the fictional world-traveler who described Utopia. The Second Book, though, was phenomenal. Originally published in 1516, I was surprised to see a variety of striking similarities to modern day issues, such as euthanasia, religious tolerance, seeing a prospective spouse naked prior to marriage (I'm not kidding), etc. I'm going to complete this post with some quotes without comment, but I'll offer a quick plug here: if you are interested in economics, religion, countries at war, politics, ethics or a study in the quality of life issue, among other things, this is a must read at some point in your life. The quotes:

For they marvel that any men be so foolish, as to have delight and pleasure in the glistering of a little trifling stone, which may behold any of the stars, or else the sun itself. Or that any man is so mad, as to count himself the nobler for the smaller or finer thread of wool, which selfsame wool (be it now in never so fine a spun thread) did once a sheep wear: and yet was she all that time no other thing than a sheep. They marvel also that gold, which of the own nature is a thing so unprofitable, is now among all people in so high estimation, that man himself, by whom, yea and for the use of whom it is so much set by, is in much less estimation than the gold itself. Insomuch that a lumpish blockheaded churl, and which hath no more wit than an ass, yea and as full of worthlessness and foolishness, shall have nevertheless many wise and good men in subjection and bondage, only for this, because he hath a great heap of gold. Which if it should be taken from him by any fortune, or by some subtle wile of the law (which no less than fortune doth raise up the low and pluck down the high), and be given to the most vile slave and abject drudge of all his household, then shortly after he shall go into the service of his servant, as an augmentation or an overplus beside his money. But they much more marvel at and detest the madness of them which to those rich men, in whose debt and danger they be not, do give almost divine honours, for none other consideration, but because they be rich: and yet knowing them to be such niggardly penny-fathers, that they be sure as long as they live, not the worth of one farthing of that heap of gold shall come to them.

They reason of virtue and pleasure. But the chief and principal question is in what thing, be it one or more, the felicity of man consisteth. But in this point they seem almost too much given and inclined to the opinion of them which defend pleasure, wherein they determine either all or the chiefest part of man’s felicity to rest....Then if it be a point of humanity for man to bring health and comfort to man, and specially (which is a virtue most peculiarly belonging to man) to mitigate and assuage the grief of others, and by taking from them the sorrow and heaviness of life, to restore them to joy, that is to say, to pleasure: why may it not then be said, that nature doth provoke every man to do the same to himself? For a joyful life, that is to say, a pleasant life, is either evil, and if it be so, then thou shouldest not only help no man thereto, but rather, as much as in thee lieth, help all men from it, as noisome and hurtful, or else if thou not only mayst, but also of duty art bound to procure it to others, why not chiefly to thyself, to whom thou art bound to show as much favour as to other? For when nature biddeth thee to be good and gentle to other she commandeth thee not to be cruel and ungentle to thyself. Therefore even very nature (say they) prescribeth to us a joyful life, that is to say, pleasure as the end of all our operations....But to go about to let another man of his pleasure, whilst thou procurest thine own, that is open wrong. Contrariwise to withdraw something from thyself to give to other, that is a point of humanity and gentleness; which never taketh away so much commodity, as it bringeth again. For it is recompensed with the return of benefits; and the conscience of the good deed, with the remembrance of the thankful love and benevolence of them to whom thou hast done it, doth bring more pleasure to thy mind, than that which thou hast withholden from thyself could have brought to thy body.

Or what delight can there be, and not rather displeasure in hearing the barking and howling of dogs? Or what greater pleasure is there to be felt when a dog followeth an hare, than when a dog followeth a dog? for one thing is done in both, that is to say, running, if thou hast pleasure therein. But if the hope of slaughter and the expectation of tearing in pieces the beast doth please thee: thou shouldest rather be moved with pity to see a silly innocent hare murdered of a dog, the weak of the stronger, the fearful of the fierce, the innocent of the cruel and unmerciful. Therefore all this exercise of hunting, as a thing unworthy to be used of free men, the Utopians have rejected....

Furthermore in choosing wives and husbands they observe earnestly and straitly a custom, which seemed to us very fond and foolish. For a sad and an honest matron showeth the woman, be she maid or widow, naked to the wooer. And likewise a sage and discreet man exhibiteth the wooer naked to the woman. At this custom we laughed and disallowed it as foolish. But they on the other part do greatly wonder at the folly of all other nations, which in buying a colt, whereas a little money is in hazard, be so chary and circumspect, that though he be almost all bare, yet they will not buy him, unless the saddle and all the harness be taken off, lest under those coverings be hid some gall or sore. And yet in choosing a wife, which shall be either pleasure, or displeasure to them all their life after, they be so reckless, that all the residue of the woman’s body being covered with clothes, they esteem her scarcely by one hand-breadth (for they can see no more but her face), and so do join her to them not without great jeopardy of evil agreeing together, if anything in her body afterward do offend and mislike them.

Falling Hot Dog Spills The Beans

2007-10-15T11:50:00.000-04:00

This is Patrick. A dachshund. He is owned by a friend of mine, Bill, and was thus named because he was born on St. Patrick's Day. I have another friend born on a holiday, St. Valentine's Day, in fact, but we don't have any pet names for him. That would be weird. Anyway, the other night I watched as Patrick jumped up on a day-bed in Bill's entertainment room, presumably to take a nap. Dogs do that a lot. Patrick does it almost non-stop. He gets up, I'm convinced, for one of only three reasons. Eat. Poop. Go outside to bark at people jogging down the road. That's it, really. But I digress. Back to the day-bed. Patrick had commenced his napping, which of course always begins with some strange ritualistic throwing of blanket up in the air over and over again while simultaneously jumping up and down, and somehow ending up wrapped up like a baby in swaddling clothes. I'm not saying he's god-like, just strange. And talented. On this particular day Patrick awakened after a short time, but was apparently disoriented. He started to back up off the other side of the day-bed, the side with Bill's strange apparatus that is part cabinet, part catch-all, part holder of white beans. This last thing is true, though odd. Indeed there are drawers with see-through glass fronts. The glass is easily unsettled if you're not careful. Inside each of these drawers is a large amount of white beans. Don't ask, I don't know why. Patrick slid off the back side of the day-bed, the wrong side I might add, hit one of the doors with his flailing body, unsettled the glass and when he landed, wedged between the bed and cabinet, a steady stream of white beans began pouring out, ever so evenly, on his head. The dog couldn't move, so I rescued him. But before I did I laughed out loud at the look of utter-bewilderment on his face...and conceived of this strangely-titled, more oddly written, more puzzlingly still published, post. The falling hot dog spilled the beans.

Michigan

2007-09-27T10:11:00.000-04:00

I recently read an article by Rich Karlgaard (of the Digital Rules Blog on the Frogroll) called Tackling the Michigan Problem. It is a well-written piece likening the woes of the Michigan Wolverines football team to the dire economic issues of that state. Evidently it is quite an important issue, and one source pointed out that the loss of jobs streak the state is currently experiencing is the longest sense the Great Depression. In an apparent attempt to stop the employment hemorrhage and consequent financial drain, there is a commercial I've seen on CNN urging corporations to consider relocating there. From what I've read in Forbes and elsewhere, they may need to address some taxation matters first. Nonetheless, I didn't really create this post to start a dialog concerning the socioeconomic crisis in the state to our north, but rather I wanted to briefly express, again, my fascination with the writing of Karlgaard. We all have our favorite writers, whether it be fiction or newspaper journalism. I'm becoming aware more and more that it's probably best to latch on to a few that we can "get", and not spend so much time scouring the vast amount of contributors out there. It's a matter of time. Sure, I still believe it's good to read widely, and I'll continue doing so as long as I can, but I believe it's unnecessary to work my way through an article or book that doesn't interest, or more than that, intrigue, me. Do you have any suggestions for managing the worlds reading material? I'd love to hear about it if so.

3:10 To Yuma

2007-09-12T21:34:00.000-04:00

I watched the new film 3:10 To Yuma and I was quite impressed. It's been a minute since I've seen a good western themed movie, and I'd say it was worth the wait. Some fav's of the past in this wild-west genre were the Young Guns franchise, Tombstone, and Open Range. I'll not play spoiler, but right up until the frenetic final scene, this was going to replace The Bourne Ultimatum as my fav of the year so far, but thanks to a bit of confusion and a tinge of I-wish-they-hadn't-itus I'm gonna leave this one in second place. The acting was impeccable across the board, and on that note I'm totally sold on Russell Crowe. Damn, he's good. Christian Bale was certainly terrific at his part, too, but I'm relegating him to third fav on this one and giving the 2nd slot to Ben Foster who played Crowe's right-hand-man to perfection. I swear I walked outta the theater bow-legged and whistlin' for my horse. Now where the hell'd I leave my boots....

PS-I forgot to mention it, but I watched another recent release last week, called War. It's worth the $8 to go see, and is def in my top five for the year so far.

Michael W. Smith: Missing Person

2007-09-10T09:54:00.000-04:00

One of the more remarkable benefits of walking is looking back and seeing from whence you've come. It has been mentioned in many different ways, but for those walking on a long journey across mountainous terrain speak of looking back at the mountain peaks they've crossed, and having their minds wander back to what they were thinking as they crossed them. Such is it in the mountains, and so it is in life. As I look back upon my life I see profound impacts made by various musical pieces, and one of the more noteworthy ones crossed my path again this past weekend. It is Michael W. Smith's album Live The Life. I remember when it came out there were some in certain Christian circles who balked at it because the names "God" or "Jesus" are not to be found anywhere on any of the songs. (Read here for one ridiculous take on the issue of the album and Smith as a person). It's unfortunate that the album would be discarded because of this, for if ever a set of Christian anthems was produced, this is the one.

The one song that captivated me then, and recaptured me this weekend, is Missing Person. (Hear it to a Yu-Gi-Oh movie here). As you can see from the lyrics below it deals with a lot of what I've been discussing on this blog of late, specifically a loss of faith, among other things. The subject is receiving lots of attention of late due to the Mother Teresa letters. Although I don't have any answers for myself at the present time, I'm certainly warmed to the idea that a state of questioning, doubt, uncertainty and confusion is a common distress among current and one-time believers. For now, the quest continues....

1st Verse:
Another question in me
One for the powers that be
It's got me thrown
And so I put on my poker face
And try to figure it out
This undeniable doubt
A common occurence
Feeling so out of place
Guarded and cynical now
Can't help but wondering how
My heart evolved into
A rock beating inside of me
So I feel such a stoic ordeal
Where's that feeling that I don't feel

Chorus:
There was a boy who had the faith to move a mountain
And like a child he would believe without a reason
Without a trace he disappeared into the void and
I've been searchin' for that missing person

2nd verse:
Under a lavender moon
So many thoughts consume me
Who dimmed that glowing light
That once burned so bright in me
Is this a radical phase
A problematical age
That keeps me running
From all that I used to be
Is there a way to unlearn
That carnal knowledge
That's chipping away at my soul
Iv'e been gone too long
Will I ever find my way home

Chorus:
There was a boy who had the faith to move a mountain
And like a child he would believe without a reason
Without a trace he disappeared into the void and
I've been searchin' for that missing person
He used to want to try to walk the straight and narrow
He had a fire and he could feel it in the marrow

It's been a long time and I haven't seen him lately but I've been searchin' for that missing person

The Micheal Vick Jealousy Fiasco

2007-08-25T15:12:00.001-04:00

"It is fitting that the NFL has suspended him," said Wayne Pacelle, president and CEO of The Humane Society of the United States. "He's now a role model for something terrible, and it's not appropriate that he suit up in an NFL uniform."

The way I see it now, on the heels of the NFL’s suspension of Michael Vick, a big percentage of this debacle is a direct result of jealousy. Vick is an exceptional athlete, an insanely wealthy individual, wildly popular, nice looking, and quite successful as a result of hard work, dedication and resolve. While these things don’t give him a free pass to break the law, they also shouldn’t factor in when it comes to making a decision about his actions. Let me explain.

The sentence quoted at the top annoys me. I’ve never heard of Wayne before, but he seems like a prick. I probably shouldn’t judge him without knowing any more about him than his position and a quote, but then again, that’s about as much as he’s doing to Vick. So, to quote the Holy Bible, and Jesus Christ, “Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged…” It’s too bad I can’t get quoted on MSNBC and say something like “Wayne Pacelle is a moron, and it’s just not appropriate he be allowed to head the Humane Society any longer.” Why would I say this? Well, I’m sure somewhere along the way Wayne has messed up. Maybe he ran a stop sign, or got a speeding ticket, or perhaps he used profanity once at a soccer game. Fact is, I don’t know. But neither does he know everything about the Michael Vick case. But in spite of that, how does it relate to Vick’s profession as a football star? It doesn’t. Yeah, apparently he goofed. Yeah, apparently he made some poor decisions, not the least of which is choice of friends. But he should never be able to throw a football in the NFL again? Come on. That is blatant jackass jealousy and nothing more. I revert back to the silliness of my hypothetical statement of unfitness concerning Wayne losing his job due to a speeding ticket. It’s absurd, and so is this, so why can’t we see it?

If Michael Vick were a burger flipper at McDonald’s making riding the free bus to work and earning minimum wage, would we be hearing the same things? I don’t think so. It’s because Vick makes an insane amount of money more than those of us in the average category that we want to yank him down from that pedestal. He’s earned that position, and he should be able to keep it.

Now, lest it appear I’m castigating Wayne of the dog pound and winking at the offenses of Michael Vick, I apologize. I’m just peeved and wanted to write an emotional, spurt of the moment post so I can look back on it at a later date and see how it compares to the final judgment. The NFL commish had to make the statements he did, Nike had to drop it’s endorsement, the Falcons had to act as though they were upset, but the truth is every one of those organizations will watch with bated breath the proceedings, and if in fact everything turns out to be less serious than these initial allegations predict, they’ll all, wholesale, jump back on board the Vick train because of the earnings potential. Is that sick? No, I don’t think so. If I could fill stadiums across the country with people who are willing to shell out dollar after dollar on tickets, parking, apparel, food and drink, souvenir, etc., then I’d be worth a multi-million dollar contract. I don’t, therefore I’m living a meager lifestyle at an average wage. And I’m fine with that. I’m trying to make the best of my life, and my career, but I’m not interested in pulling someone who’s reached higher than me down from their post. That’d be jealousy, and that, I’m told, is as cruel as the grave.

***Update***
Here's an interesting take from ESPN contributor Gregg Easterbrook called Vick: Villain or scoundrel...or sympathetic figure?

The Bourne Ultimatum

2007-08-23T15:49:00.000-04:00

"After a three days' search, Webb's body has yet to be found."

That's the fascinating final sentence of the latest in the Jason Bourne saga, The Bourne Ultimatum. I'll not be a spoiler and give the foggiest idea what that means, but I will say that when the narrator read those words, and the screen shifted to a (surprisingly very, very attractive) Julie Stiles, well, her character Nicky Parsons, anyway, I exhaled the phrase, "this is my new favorite movie of the year thus far." Wow! I had kept The Departed as my fav all through the first 7+ months of 2007, but this one blows that great mobster film so far out of the water that it's almost imperceptible on yon horizon. It's def a must see...

Intoxicated On Inspiration

2007-08-23T11:40:00.000-04:00

Having experienced both, I have come to believe that some religious experiences are just as intoxicating as alcoholic beverages. Let me explain. As is commonly agreed, drinking a certain amount of alcohol in particular circumstances often results in impaired judgment, reduced inhibitions, and a dulling of the senses alongside the feelings of euphoria. It's not the alcohol itself that creates these effects, but rather the way it is used, or as some might say, abused. Religious experiences affect people in much the same way. Let me just state that by "experience" I am referring to the various areas of religions that adherents encounter. Involvements might be a better word than experiences, such as being involved in the reading of holy books, involved in services and ceremonies, involved in educational meetings, etc. Regardless of the word choice, however, the fact remains that there are a number of similarities between the intoxication of religion and that of alcohol.

What got me started on this vein is a book I picked up earlier this week from an acquaintance of mine in the legal profession. He has a set of six books called Great Religions of Modern Man, and in the volume devoted to Islam (by John Alden Williams) I found a very interesting few lines:

The departure point of the Islamic religion, the central article of faith from which all else flows, may be stated as follows: God (the only God there is: al-Ilah, Allah in Arabic; El, Elohim, Jahweh in Hebrew; Khuda or Yazdan in Persian, Tanri in Turkish...Deus in Latin, God in plain English) has spoken to man in the Qur'an.
This divine communication is seen as the final stage in a long series of divine communications conducted through the prophets. It began with Adam, the first man, who was also the first prophet, because he was the first to whom God revealed Himself.

After Adam, God continued to address men through prophets, to warn them that their happiness lay in worshipping Him and submitting themselves to Him, and to tell them of the terrible consequences of disobedience. In each case, however, the message was changed and deformed by perverse men. Finally, in His mercy, God sent down His final revelation through the seal of His prophets, Muhammad, in a definitive form which would not be lost.

The Qur’an, then, is the Word of God, for Muslims. While controversies have raged among them as to the sense in which this is true—whether it is the created or uncreated Word, whether it is true of every Arabic letter or only of the message as a whole, that it is true has never been questioned by them.

The Qur’an was revealed in Arabic. It is a matter of faith in Islam that since it is of Divine origin it is inimitable, and since to translate is always to betray, Muslims have always deprecated and at times prohibited any attempt to render it in another language. Anyone who has read it in the original is forced to admit that this caution seems justified; no translation, however faithful to the meaning, has ever been fully successful. Arabic, when expertly used is a remarkably terse, rich and forceful language, and the Arabic of the Qur’an is by turns striking, soaring, vivid, terrible, tender and breathtaking. As Professor Gibb has put it, “No man in fifteen hundred years has ever played on that deeptoned instrument with such power, such boldness, and such range of emotional effect.” It is meaningless to apply adjectives such as “beautiful” or “persuasive” to the Qur’an; its flashing images and inexorable measures go directly to the brain and intoxicate it.

It is not surprising, then, that a skilled reciter of the Qur’an can reduce an Arabic-speaking audience to helpless tears, that for thirteen centuries it has been ceaselessly meditated upon, or that for great portions of the human race, the “High-speech” of seventh-century Arabia has become the true accents of the Eternal.”

In my opinion, this is a well-written introduction in the study of Islam, and especially telling is the recognition that the Qur’an plays such a pivotal role in Arabic society. I suppose each of the other six volumes in the set depict their various religious case-studies with much the same regard and fascination. To point it out again, religion is intoxicating.

So, in light of my previous studies, most notably of Dawkins’ book The God Delusion, and my conversations with the authors at Just Wondering and The Chimerical Mind, I’m inclined to welcome the thought that although religion has the potential to be just as destructive as the abuse of alcohol, prohibition is not the best way to prevent the damage. Instead, the decision for me at this point in my life is that religion needs to be taken with moderation and respect, much like alcohol. I’m motivated to look a little further into the Unitarian Universalist ideas of my friend Andy, for the thing I see most attractive in his embracing of that society is, in a word, tolerance.

Bible Thumpers Beware, We're On To You

2007-08-07T22:54:00.000-04:00

It just doesn't cut it for believers who hold the Bible as inerrant and infallible to claim that it's God-breathed, and anyone who suggests otherwise is just a tool of Satan. I think it's about time for a little proof from them. I read this today, and although I've not read the book being reviewed, I might just add it to the list. For years and years I've been told that the important thing when it comes to holy writ is to just trust the "internal evidence" of its Divine inspiration. Namely such verses as "all scripture is given by inspiration of God", among others, that are supposed to make us just step back and say "oh, well that explains it...okay, it's The Word of God, then!". No, I'm afraid that's not good enough.

Not directly related, but similar in thought is a matter that crossed my mind just yesterday. I was driving up the highway (north, thus not down) and I saw a rainbow. I, as I frequently do, recalled the biblical story in which we're told that a rainbow is a "promise" of God not to ever flood the earth again like he did in Noah's day. Now, I was just thinking to myself a big hmmmmm: if God can put together some colors and we're just supposed to know that it means the rain will only last so long, why couldn't He (or She) just spell it out in the sky in words that we can read? I mean, if He (She) is all into communicating via the ethereal parchment, why not go all out and make it real plain and clear? Seriously, if guys can write words in airplanes with smoke coming out the ass end, surely God can spell out a sentence or two that's a little clearer than a half circle of various colors! I don't mean to sound blasphemous (perhaps), but I'm just a bit peeved at how idiotic we can get sometime when religion is concerned. It's Dawkins' undue respect all over again.

Finally amidst the jumbled debris of this post I want to reference the article linked to above and its' reference to snake handlers. I came across this book last week and upon glancing through a few pages was entranced. For one, I've actually (hate to admit it) been in the church in Austin, IN, pictured in this book. They didn't handle any slithering critters when I was there, and for that I'm glad. I also recognized a few of the other towns in eastern Kentucky referenced in the book, having been to them on Gods business in years past. I was interested to note that (and I'm totally paraphrasing) the author suggests that this snake-handling/Pentecostal phenomenon is the result of people turning away from the intellectual approach of the eastern seaboard preachers and embracing a more emotion-driven worship pattern. This then created the rising up of lay preachers among them, and the rest is history...it spread like wildfire. No wonder there is such an aversion to asking questions and actually trying to think things through among so many of them even today...

Finally, part 2, I am reading another Bill Bryson book. This time it's The Lost Continent: Travels in Small-Town America. This guy is quickly becoming one of my favorite light reading authors. A page or a chapter at a time, it doesn't seem to matter as he's always, and I mean ALWAYS, got something hilariously "OMG!" to say. I'm gonna ask for his books for Christmas...

Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows

2007-07-31T12:18:00.001-04:00

Upon finishing The Deathly Hallows in the early hours of this morning, I have a few personal remarks to make. Before I do, however, let me recommend a visit to Jabel's site to any reader of the Potter series who is interested in technical discussions of the writing.

Here are my thoughts in no certain order:

1.) I was fascinated by the opening scenes, especially the first battle as Harry was being transported from Privet Drive. Jabel put it well in referencing the "chaos" and referring to the event as "horrifying".

2. ) Of all the deaths, I felt that Dobby was the most troubling. I hated to see Mad-Eye go, and the loss of Lupin was quite disturbing as well, but the killing of Dobby at the hand of Bellatrix while the house-elf was rescuing Harry was truly painful.

3.) I am sure she has her reasons, but I think I would have preferred the book not include the "Nineteen Years After" ending.

4.) I would have liked to known a little more about the Malfoy family, especially the (perhaps?) inward struggle of Draco.

5.) I can't help but feel sorry for Snape. I didn't subscribe to the "bad Snape" view of some I know, but I can't say that I'm all too convinced in his goodness, either. I would give him the benefit of the doubt and call him mostly good-partly evil, but I feel sorry for him for not ever fully going for the good.

6.) I've enjoyed the series, but I'm not lamenting the fact that no more of it will be written. I don't feel that I'm missing anything by not knowing of Harry as a parent, a middle-ager, an old man, etc.

7. I'm so looking forward to the movie, especially the battle at Hogwarts.

8. I felt like parts of the hiding out scenes of Harry, Hermione & Ron were a bit drawn out, and the whole days-turned-into-weeks lines weren't satisfying to me.

9. I wonder sometimes if there'll ever be a villain who decides to just go ahead and kill the good guy while he has the chance. I mean, what is up with the whole attitude of delaying the act for a more gratifying time...why not do it and get it over with. It always comes back to bite them in the end.

10. I wanna go stay with Bill & Fleur for an extended vacation.

Dave Meurer: Boyhood Daze

2007-07-18T23:19:00.000-04:00

Today I finished reading Boyhood Daze: An Incomplete Guide to Raising Boys, by Dave Meurer. This guy is funny, makes sense, and has taught me a lot I didn't know about boys. Having raised two of his own, Mark & Brad, I easily fell into thinking he could be a pretty good advisor to me as I parent my boys. I'm not disappointed. There are hilarious and poignant matters to be found on page after page, but I think the chapter that tilted the book from quirky to essential, for me, was number 11. It's titled Your Boys-Are They Truly Clueless or Just Ignoring You?, and begins with this paragraph: "A huge portion of your son's life will consist of your supplying him with detailed information that he will not understand, but that you will think he understands because he will nod as you speak to him and even repeat back to you verbatim everything you said while never understanding a word of it." I've witnessed this phenomenon first hand, and now I know it's a common deficiency among boys. But just about the time I was ready to roll my eyes and shake my head with the understanding that "boys will be boys", I came across these two sentences: "Basically, all men are ten-year-olds who are trapped in adult bodies. We may seem mature, but it is only because we have facial hair and deep voices and pretty much run the Senate." Yeah, I think I found out as much about myself in reading this book as I have about my boys. Maybe that was the author's intent, come to think of it. Of the books I've read on parenting, this one has to rank up there in the "required reading" section of my recommendations to parents of boys.

HWOTP Voted "Best" At Londonilly

2007-07-18T15:54:00.000-04:00

Christina Aguilera once again has hit the top spot...this time over at the way cool Londonilly site. Check out the post here. I also found some more awesome pics of Xtina recently, one of which is the one from Blender magazine included with this post. Damn. Some of the others I came across I've linked to over on my personal myspace page. Damn. I'm obsessed...

On Finding A Gold Mine In A Thrift Store

2007-07-18T11:28:00.000-04:00

I love to read. I also possess a passion to become as liberal a thinker as I can be. A coming together of these facts presented itself to me one glorious day in the month of May, 1996.
I had been talking with a friend of mine named Bruce, and we had agreed that it would be beneficial to broaden our education beyond a narrow track of interests. We posited that by widening our circle of selected reading materials, we could achieve a definite intellectual increase.
I was staying in Coweta, Oklahoma, on a business trip, and met an eccentric man named Rick on an excursion out into the sleepy town of Colcord. I soon discovered that he was as avid a book lover as me, and that he had just procured The Harvard Classics, a set of books put together just after the turn of the 20th century. It turns out he had picked up the compendium at a thrift store and he was willing to sell it. He wanted a certain software title, which I was able to locate for the handsome sum of $90 dollars, and he offered to trade evenly. I still refer to that transaction as the best book investment I’ve ever made.
As I perused each of the books I quickly decided I wished to read the entire set through in numerical order. I began with the first volume, which includes The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, and I was immediately struck with awe. I made my way through the book in about a month’s time, and I made plans to continue at this clip until I’d read them all.
There were some missing pieces to my set, one of which I knew immediately, and some others I discovered later. The first and most conspicuous omission was volume 21, I Promesi Sposi (The Betrothed), by Manzoni. But over two years later, after searching fruitlessly in thrift shops and book stores across the country, this missing tome turned up in a most unexpected place. Another friend of mine, David, from Dayton, Ohio, found it in “The Last Chance” section of his local Salvation Army, for a mere 25 cents, and bought it for me.
Later on I added the Reading Guide and The Shelf of Fiction to fully complete my set, and now every volume sits proudly on the top shelves of the book cases behind my desk at my office. Every morning when I walk in, it’s as if I’m being warmly greeted by some of the wisest souls the world has ever known.
I’ve had some monumental experiences along the way, and I enjoy recounting them to anyone who will listen. After starting with Franklin in the late spring of 1996, by fall I was heavily into Emerson. I recall a sense of wonder at reading about his gardens, and I’ve looked at plant life differently ever since.
Then I recollect getting a beautiful glimpse of inward Christianity when I read Confessions by St. Augustine, & The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a’Kempis.
Later, I remember, I was in California when I read Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations, and his view of economics has made me conscious of every penny spent and earned as I work my way through life.
I’ll never forget digging into Darwin’s Origin of Species and discovering not a man hell-bent on disproving the existence of God by promoting evolution, but a man truly fascinated by all he saw in nature.
Reading Don Quixote ranks as one of the funniest events of my life. Then and there I learned in a most humorous way the danger of becoming quixotic.
Then I could almost taste the salty air and smell the stench of decaying fish as I read R.H. Dana’s Two Years Before The Mast. I long to sail the open seas some day, and that desire has reached a fever pitch thanks to this spectacular journal of a seafarer.
Looking back I see that I’ve not been able to stay consistent with my initial goal of reading one volume per month, averaging instead one every three and a half months. Nevertheless, I remain as determined as I was at the beginning to stay the course and finish the project. I’m thrilled by what I’ve experienced thus far, and I’m eager to see what lies on the other side of the next musty page. My aim is still to broaden my education, but I never expected it to be such a beautiful and fun odyssey.
One thing is for certain, that it’s an interesting conversation piece to tell people that one of the best things I own came from a thrift store in Oklahoma.

*****UPDATE*****

Christopher R. Beha, a writer from New York, started a blog at the beginning of this year called The Whole Five Feet, in which he has vowed to read through the Harvard Classics in a year, roughly one volume per week (sure beats my pace!), and then post an essay at the completion of each. Click here to see his blog...I'm also adding it to my Frogroll. I guess I'm not alone, after all...

Bryson: A Walk In The Woods, Part 2

2007-07-15T20:59:00.001-04:00

On June 1 I posted about Bill Bryson's book A Walk In The Woods, and this afternoon I finished it. Described as "travel lit", the work is primarily the result of the author's attempt to traverse the Appalachian Trail, a roughly 2200 mile (I say roughly because, as the book so marvelously points out, the Trail's length is debatable and changes from time to time) course from Georgia to Maine through thick woods and over daunting mountains. This is perhaps the starting point both for the author's intent for writing, and the reader's decision to pick up the book, but one thing I learned is that herein is much more than a journal of a man walking among the trees and critters. I found a boatload of paragraphs that stirred up a sense of environmental awareness, and not a few interesting historical accounts of the eastern United States. I also found quite a bit of philosophy, biology, and anthropology. To be brief in my review, this is one of those books I will feel very inclined to recommend to my friends for years to come, I think. Oh, and by the way, Bryson is one of the funniest men alive. I laughed out loud on more than one occasion, and for me that is quite unusual.

(Note: I have no idea what the picture is all about here, I just found it in a quick google search for a pic of Bryson, and thought it served my purpose.)

Harry Potter & The Order of the Phoenix

2007-07-13T14:16:00.000-04:00

“But they’re older now”. Thus was the brilliant observation of Jabel’s wife upon our sleepy exit from the theater in the wee hours of Wednesday morning. Jabel, his brilliant bride, myself & aj ventured out with a room full of school kids (alas, we weren’t the OLDEST ones in the crowd, but we were def in the top 5 or 10) to see the latest Harry Potter movie, The Order of the Phoenix. I had just remarked how “dialoguey” the movie was, and that there seemed to be less magical and spectacular events than in prior films, when the aforementioned better half of my best bud proffered her retort.
And it’s true, you know? Harry, Hermione, Ron & the crew are older, a full year, in fact, and as they navigate the mid-teen years it seems like change is the order of the day. Perhaps it’s the quality over quantity focus that is developing in their decisions to use magic, a sort of magical maturation, if you will.
In the looks category, Ron appears to me to the one who’s “aged” the most, what with his bulkier, more pronounced teenage bulkiness. Harry is just behind him, although he remains quite wispy and apparently underdeveloped, which adds to his role as underdog. Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy both seem to be at quite an awkward stage in their developments, and let’s just say that nature has not been very good to either of them. Hermione, on the other hand, maintains a little girl appearance, which is as odd is it as disappointing. She needs to grow up and get pretty, which I’m sure she will in the last two films. I’m speaking, of course, of the actors that play these characters, but the physical changes are inseparable between the portrayer & the portrayed.
Emotionally and mentally there seems to be an overall maturity being revealed as well. I noticed how Ron was less inclined to act out in a nervous, short-tempered manner, and was rather quite reserved when faced with conflict and aggression. Harry, again, isn’t quite up to Ron’s development here, it seems, still being inclined to lash out and appear overwhelmed at times.
All in all, Phoenix was an enjoyable book and movie, and the role played by Sirius Black in both was a joy to me. I hate that he died, but the ending scene at the Ministry of Magic was my favorite part of the story. The book was long, and the movie was comparatively short at 2 hours, 18 minutes, but the crescendo happened perfectly. Perhaps it’s magic, but this film doesn’t suffer from an anti-climactic ending.

Random Policies

2007-07-13T12:11:00.000-04:00

I saw another Dilbert comic today that is just hilarious, and quite true. I thought of a few places where this "random policy generator" seems to get a lot of use. Here's a few:

Work (of course)

Church

Home

The Post Office

The IRS

...

"Sweep The Leg, Johnny"

2007-06-29T13:03:00.000-04:00

Growing up as I did in the 80's, one of the greatest movies of all time is Karate Kid and the 373 sequels that followed it. Actually, 1 was great, the rest were just okay. Regardless, today I was made aware of a new band called No More Kings who came out with a great song called Sweep The Leg, in honor of the great line in the movie where Johnny of the Cobra Kai's was instructed to perform an illegal move on The Karate Kid, Daniel (...uh, son). The accompanying video to the song was pointed out to me today my buddy Kief, so check it out here. For more info on the band, click their name above for their official website, click here for their myspace page, and click here for the wikipedia page. Wax on...wax off...wax on...wax off...wax...

*****NEWS FLASH*****
These guys are performing at the Linton Music Fest on September 1, 2007, at 8 pm. The Fest is free, so you KNOW I'll be thurr...

The God Delusion Part II

2007-06-23T16:32:00.000-04:00

Today I finished The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, and I am going to list the chapter titles and drop a brief set of the more memorable ideas uncovered in each. At the outset I want to say that I have been deeply challenged by the presentation of his alternative to faith, and although the jury is still out concerning my belief in God, I am seriously leaning towards seeing atheism as a realistic resting place for my worldview. I'm interested in hearing from as many as I can who can either agree with or rebut the matter of the importance (or lack thereof) of religion.

First off, in the Preface, there is a potent paragraph that I think is worthy of inclusion in this personal summary. It states:

"I suspect - well, I am sure - that there are lots of people out there who have been brought up in some religion or other, are unhappy in it, don't believe it, or are worried about the evils that are done in its name; people who feel vague yearnings to leave thier parents' religion and wish they could, but just don't realize that leaving is an option. If you are one of them, this book is for you. It is intended to raise consciousness - raise consciousness to the fact that to be an atheist is a realistic aspiration, and a brave and splendid one. You can be an atheist who is happy, balanced, moral, and intellectually fulfilled."

I have been a firsthand witness to many who grew up in a religion their parents have thrust upon them from infancy and who only went through the motions of faith because they have no idea there is a legitimate alternative. This book, as the paragraph above suggests, presents a most remarkable opt-out.

I. A Deeply Religious Non-Believer
In this opening chapter Dawkins does a terrific job at pointing out the absurdity of how much religion is so often unchallenged. I like this sentence:

"A widespread assumption, which nearly everybody in our society accepts - the non-religious included - is that religious faith is especially vulnerable to offence and should be protected by an abnormally thick wall of respect, in a different class from the respect that any human being should pay to any other."

This, of course, results frequently in a "no questions asked" mentality, and allows leadership to dupe the followers further and further into stupidity.

II. The God Hypothesis
Chapter 2 opens with a bang, and I'll let it speak for itself:

"The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving control-freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, capricious malevolent bully."

III. Arguments For God's Existence
In the 3rd chapter Dawkins writes about the many reasons individuals give for belief in God, such as Thomas Aquinas' 'Proofs', The Ontological Argument and Other A Priori Arguments, Beauty, Personal 'Experience', Scripture, the words of Admired Religious Scientists, Pascal's Wager, etc. I was personally moved by the following lines:

"A designer God cannot be used to explain organized complexity because any God capable of designing anything would have to be complex enough to demand the same kind of explanation in his own right. God presents an infinite regress from which he cannot help us escape."

IV. Why There Almost Certainly Is No God
This is a very lucid chapter and makes such a strong case I was almost convinced to forego belief on the spot. A couple of interesting quotes follow, first a paraphrase of Fred Hoyle, then a good comment by the author on natural selection:

"...the probability of life originating on Earth is no greater than the chance that a hurricane, sweeping through a scrapyard, would have the luck to assemble a Boing 747."

"What is it that makes natural selection succeed as a solution to the problem of improbability, where chance and design both fail at the starting gate? The answer is that natural selection is a cumulative process, which breaks the problem of improbability up into small pieces. Each of the small pieces is slightly improbable, but not prohibitively so."

V. The Roots Of Religion
As Dawkins suggests there are a number of theories concerning both the advent and the proliferation of religion, namely that it gives consolation and comfort, fosters togetherness and satisfies our yearnings for an explanation of our existence. The authors theory can be gleaned from the following:

"I am one of an increasing number of biologists who see religion as a by-product of something else. More generally, I believe that we who speculate about Darwinian survival value need to 'think by-product'. When we ask about the survival value of anything, we may be asking teh wrong question. We need to rewrite the question in a more helpful way. Perhaps the feature we are interested in (religion in this case) doesn't have a direct survival value of its own, but is a by-product of something else that does."

VI. The Roots Of Morality: Why Are We Good?
Concerning the question of why would we be good if there is no God, Dawkins writes the following:

"Posed like that, the question sounds positively ignoble. When a religious person puts it to me in this way (and many of them do), my immediate temptation is to issue the following challenge: 'Do you really mean to tell me the only reason you try to be good is to gain God's approval and reward, or to avoid his disapproval and punishment? That's not morality, that's just sucking up, apple-polishing, looking over your shoulder at the great surveillance camera in the sky, or the still small wiretap inside your head, monitoring your every move, even your every base thought.' As Einstein said, 'If people are good only because they fear punishment, and hope for reward, then we are a sorry lot indeed.' Michael Shermer, in The Science of Good and Evil, calls it a debate stopper. If you agree that, in the absence of God, you would 'commit robbery, rape, and murder', you reveal yourself as an immoral person, 'and we would be well advised to steer a wide course around you.' If, on the other hand, you admit that you would continue to be a good person even when not under divine surveillance, you have fatally undermined your claim that God is necessary for us to be good. I suspect that quite a lot of religious people do think religion is what motivates them to be good, especially if they belong to one of those faiths that systematically exploits personal guilt."

VII. The 'Good' Book and the Changing Moral Zeitgeist
This particular chapter in the book is such a clear explanation of how the Bible is on the same level as other books and NOT the God-breathed document I once so staunchly believed it to be, that I am puzzled how I ever gave such high regards to "the word of God". Consider this:

"To be fair, much of the Bible is not systematically evil but just plain weird, as you would expect of a chaotically cobbled-together anthology of disjointed documents, composed, revised, translated, distorted and 'improved' by hundreds of anonymous authors, editors and copyists, unknown to us and mostly unknown to each other, spanning nine centuries. This may explain some of the sheer strangeness of the Bible. But unfortunately it is this same weird volume that religious zealots hold up to us as the inerrant source of our morals and rules for living. Those who wish to base their morality literally on the Bible have either not read it or not understood it..."

VIII. What's Wrong With Religion? Why Be So Hostile?
In this and the following chapter Dawkins points out just how dangerous religion is not only for adults, but children as well. Chew on this:

"More generally (and this applies to Christianity no less than to Islam), what is really pernicious is the practice of teaching children that faith itself is a virtue. Faith is an evil precisely because it requires no justification and brooks no argument. Teaching children that unquestioned faith is a virtue primes them - given certain other ingredients that are not hard to come by - to grow up into potentially lethal weapons for future jihads or crusades...Faith can be very very dangerous, and deliberately to implant it into the vulnerable mind of an innocent child is a grievous wrong."

IX. Childhood, Abuse and the Escape From Religion
There are too many valuable phrases and paragraphs in this chapter to pull one out as a summary, so let me offer this one as a morsel to tempt your better self to read the whole matter yourself:

" 'Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.' The adage is true as long as you don't really believe the words. But if your whole upbringing, and everything you have ever been told by parents, teachers and priests, has led you to believe, really believe, utterly and completely, that sinners burn in hell (or some other obnoxious article of doctrine such as that a woman is the property of her husband), it is entirely plausible that words could have a more long-lasting and damaging effect than deeds. I am persuaded that the phrase 'child abuse' is no exaggeration when used to describe what teachers and priests are doing to children whom they encourage to believe in something like the punishment of unshriven mortal sins in eternal hell."

X. A Much Needed Gap?
A power-packed final chapter left me with a boatload of questions and fascinations. I like this paragraph as an overview of all that is contained in chapter 10:

"Does religion fill a much needed gap? It is often said that there is a God-shaped gap in the brain which needs to be filled: we have a psychological need for God - imaginary friend, father, big brother, confessor, confidant - and the need has to be satisfied whether God really exists or not. But could it be that God clutters up a gap that we'd be better off filling with something else? Science, perhaps? Art? Human friendship? Humanism? Love of this life in the real world, giving no credence to other lives beyond the grave?"

All in all I'm very satisfied that I've read this book. Much thanks to Andy B. for the recommendation (and the loan!!), and I think the only way I can honestly repay him is to pass along my plug to as many as will listen. If for no other reason I think this book needs to be read to at least get a glimpse of what atheism can be like minus the usual image of the dark, twisted, bitter, pessimistic non-believer so many possess today.

Disturbed

2007-06-20T17:53:00.001-04:00

As I mentioned previously, I made a trek to Ozzfest last year with my brother Cory. I plan on going back this year, but it's with a slight bit of disappointment that Disturbed will not be there. I heard these guys on the main stage last year, and I was entranced from the get go. I've been hearing them a bit on Sirius Faction 28 (where I can get an F.U. every hour!) of late, and it got me interested in picking up theiri music, which I finally bit the bullet and did this week. I got The Sickness (2000), Believe (2002) & Ten Thousand Fists (2005), and I'm in sonic heaven (or hell, whichever you prefer). I remember vividly the energy of the songs Ten Thousand Fists & Stricken while at the show last year, and the almost preacher-ific quality of the lead singers rants between songs. Click the picture for their myspace profile and give an ear to the songs they have on the site. I'm hooked!

HWOTP: Pretty With A Pepsi

2007-06-13T14:31:00.000-04:00

Christina is looking fresh & amazing, as always, all peacocked out in her new Pepsi commercial.

Watch the clip, and if you're feelin' generous, get me one of those phones!

Be sure to be on the lookout for Ozzy who makes an appearance in the shoot. Interesting.

Check out the Pepsi colored beachwear she sports. Makes me think way back to an older Diet Pepsi commercial (see if you remember this one!) where Ray Charles croons "You Got The Right One Baby!".

Remember This

2007-06-13T12:12:00.000-04:00

Trust me, you want to take care of your memory as much as you do any other part of your life. You exercise your abs, you should also give your brain a workout. You take care of your relationships, you should also focus on your memory & mental faculties. How do I know this? I've had plenty of experience with Alzheimer's patients, and it's quite sad and discouraging to watch someone live their life with limited or nearly non-existent memory. All types of dementia are serious conditions, and in many cases can be avoided or at least held at bay with a little preparation and forethought. This post is a bit more somber than my usual rants and half-witted submissions, but I want all my buds to be as healthy as possible, and to keep their memory alive as long as possible. In that light, I came across the following page today with plenty of good ideas about taking care of the noodle. Check it out here.

Robert Burns, Poet Extraordinaire

2007-06-13T10:23:00.001-04:00

I remember where I was when I first began reading the works of Robert Burns, Scotland's great bard. I was in Paducah, Kentucky, and I had just sat down in the waiting room of a truck repair shop, getting my trusty ride a little alignment help when I opened up a collection of songs and poems by Bobby and was quickly entranced. Today I found a nifty site that appears to be quite thorough concerning all things Burns, aptly called Burns Country. If you're interested you can see the wikipedia entry here.

One of my favorite poems of his has to be John Barleycorn: A Ballad.

The Song Of The Cebu

2007-06-11T15:35:00.000-04:00

It's Andy's fault. He posted a cute and thought provoking poem today about a calf-path, and I wound up mentally revisiting Veggie Tales. One of their Silly Songs creations was a tune called "The Song of the Cebu", which when I first watched I recall laughing hysterically. Click the picture above to watch the segment, or click here for the lyrics. Enjoy!

***PS-Perhaps a lengthy post about the worth of the Veggie Tales enterprise will be forthcoming, but if not I'll say I quite like the shows and songs, and my boys have loved them from the get-go.

It Takes Money To Make Money...Or Does It?

2007-06-11T10:16:00.000-04:00

I read an inspiring & interesting post today over on The Big Idea Blog of Donny Deutsch. The post starts with this line:

"Have you ever heard the saying "it takes money to make money"… well that’s not always the case."

That caught my attention immediately, of course, because I've communicated the classic cliche' numerous times. Today, though, my belief in the quip has been challenged, and I thought I'd share it. Read the post here. Find out who in the world Paula Deen is here and here. Go get 'em!

Lifehacker

2007-06-11T09:19:00.001-04:00

Per a conversation over an awesome afternoon lunch & catch-up session this weekend with one of my best friends of all time, Jabel, I've added a new link to the Surfin' the Pond list over on the right. He'd mentioned the site, lifehacker.com, to me a few weeks ago, at which time I took a look & actually liked it. Oops! The problem is I forgot about it until he mentioned it again. This time I've added it to a readily accessible place so I can sneak over there from time to time, and perhaps you might want to as well, so I've left the door open for you, too.

HWOTP: Artistic Contrast

2007-06-08T12:55:00.000-04:00

Maybe it's just because I have 2 very close friends that are terrific photographers in their particular pursuits, but I'm fascinated by stellar pictures. I'm not sure if artistic contrast is a real term (I'm sure there's something better), but in my mind putting a stunning beauty like Christina Aguilera on a tattered chair has to be near the pinnacle of the mastery of that style. I can imagine adding this shot to my home decor...

Phil Town: Rule #1

2007-06-08T10:39:00.000-04:00

I've mentioned this book before, having read it last fall, but I wanted to make another quick reference to it since I've added the Rule #1 Blog to my frogroll today. I first encountered Mr. Town at a Get Motivated! seminar a couple years ago, was impressed, and decided to keep an eye on him and specifically to read his then forthcoming debut book. I like his systematic approach to investing in the stock market, and the fact that he keeps a can-do attitude throughout every step. I went to the Indianapolis Get Motivated! event a few weeks ago and heard Mr. Town speak once again, this time not nearly as impressed, but hey, everyone has a tough time behind the podium every now and then. Especially if you have to share the stage with this modern day Demosthenes, who spoke in such a way the entire RCA Dome seemed completely entranced. But I digress. Phil Town is certainly worthy of perusing, especially anyone interested in making money buying & selling stocks.

Donny Deutsch

2007-06-05T16:50:00.000-04:00

I may post more on this later, but I love this show. I'm not a big TV watcher (literally less than 5 hours a week, no joke), but on the rare occasions I do watch something besides sports or music video stuff, I find myself watching The Big Idea with Donny Deutsch. I'm twi when it comes to his interview style, and his insanely laid-back demeanor. I pride myself in not getting too worked up over much of anything, and seeing someone just talk and remain calm on a show like this is a huge draw for me. (That being said, I must interject that I also love watching Jim Cramer's Mad Money, as paradoxical as that may seem.) I'm adding his blog to the Frogroll just to keep tabs.

Bryson: A Walk In The Woods

2007-06-01T13:08:00.001-04:00

I was blessed to receive a number of books as birthday gifts a couple months ago, one of which is the one pictured here, A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering American on the Appalachian Trail by Bill Bryson. I'm only a few chapters into it, and so far I've been enlightened, educated, challenged & inspired...not to mention the fact of how many times I've laughed out loud at the hilarity of Bryson's experience. I decided I needed to post about it today because I keep coming across paragraphs that give me the urge to write something, and, well, I just didn't have a launching pad. Now I do, so perhaps (who knows!) I'll share a few of the things I discover as I mentally saunter alongside this master story-teller...and his colorful friend, Katz. Oh, and I need to say a few things about Mary Ellen...

Karlgaard: Does Science Destroy God?

2007-06-01T10:07:00.000-04:00

Rich Karlgaard blogged recently about the attempt of Presbyterian pastor John Ortberg to debunk the theories of Christopher Hitchens & Richard Dawkins, and the whole faith-as-poison viewpoint. I snickered at this statement supposed to offer credence to Rev. Ortberg, "Professors, scientists, engineers and venture capitalists go to Ortberg's church." I'm assuming if he'd said restaurant workers, janitors, bus drivers & beggers we'd not be nearly as impressed by the man's sermons. Don't get me wrong, I love reading Rich Karlgaard, and perhaps I'm just overreacting, but I didn't care much for the description of Ortberg's parishioners as noteworthy in the debate. Still, it's my first listen to Ortberg (hell, it's the first sermon I've heard in months) and I'm not quite convinced he's right. Give it a listen via the link on the Digital Rules page after reading Karlgaard's take. Dive in here.

Buckle Up, Baby...Another HWOTP Photo

2007-05-25T13:10:00.000-04:00

Christina Aguilera has to be one of the most photogenic people in the world, in my most humble, obsessed-with-her opinion. Here's a candid shot I found of her, of all things, putting on a seatbelt. There's not anything really newsworthy prompting me to post a shot of her today, though I did have a "that's my boy" moment earlier this week in which she was the focus. I picked Boston up from baseball practice Monday night, and while driving back home the Sirius Beat remix of "Aint' No Other Man" came on. I proceeded to crank my sound system and say something corny like, "there she is!", at which time Bos said "H-WOT-P!" and laughed. Yep, son, she IS the Hottest Woman On The Planet...

28 Days In The Coke Works

2007-05-24T11:02:00.000-04:00

My dad is an aspiring author, and this is his first novel, written a couple of years ago. It was quite an enjoyable read, even if I am just a bit biased. Check out the brief review here.

I used to like Clancy until his books got too technical for my tastes. That's not a slam, it's just when he went that route I lost interest. I like Grisham because he's a master story teller, quite important as a novelist, I'd say. Dad's book is fast-paced and full of make-you-think scenarios. If you're in for a novel, I'd certainly recommend you take a peak at this one.

Front Page Material

2007-05-23T13:10:00.001-04:00

I found an interesting link today while surfin' the web during my lunch break (blueberry muffin & Diet Dr. Pepper), and I like it so much I've added it to my Surfin' The Pond section over on the right-hand side of the page. It's a feature found on the newseum.com family of pages that gives a snapshot of over 500 front pages from newspapers from around the world. One of the perks I enjoyed in my previous employ was the travel, and the diversity of papers across the country. With gas prices so high, and my now much-loved life-of-a-homebody, I no longer have to travel to peruse the papers! 'What is so appealing?', you might ask. Well, it's simply aesthetic. Some papers do a really cool job of presenting the same ol' stuff everybody else is yackin' about. I don't look at papers for the content anyway, as I prefer to read about car crashes while there's still smoke rising from the screech marks. I prefer to read about my favorite sporting events while the fans in attendance are exiting the ballparks. The only way to do these things, of course, is to get my news online. But, there is something intriguing about the look and feel of a newspaper. The latter annoys me in my old age, as I can't seem to get comfortable holding it open. The former, though, I can once again enjoy with my new found site. If you're interested, you'd better click my link quick, 'cuz I'm liable to get bored with it and pull it down in about five minutes. I'm random that way sometimes...

The Prodigal Daughtry

2007-05-13T20:59:00.000-04:00

I wish to look at three matters: 1) the secular beauty of the Prodigal Son story, 2) the spiritual beauty of Daughtry’s Home, & 3) the staggering beauty of the song & scripture together.

1. The Secular Beauty of the Prodigal Son parable.

Click here for the KJV version of the story. With such a heavy "churchy" background, I've not until recently considered this parable outside of it's perceived intent of illustrating a backslider's return to the the Faith. While vacationing with my two sons over Spring Break this year, however, I was struck with the similarities I currently, and could, share with the Prodigals father. I began thinking about the story as just a secular account of a father with two boys, one of which decides to leave home. I began to imagine how this father, much like me, loved each of his sons individually as much as he did both of them together. My sons have different personalities, mannerisms, likes & dislikes, etc., all mixed in with the many things they share. I love them both, neither more than the other, and tell them each at certain times ("you're my favorite 10 year old boy on the planet" to Boston & "you're my favorite 8 year old boy in the world" to Britain). I make an attempt to look them in the eyes and tell them daily that I love them, and that together they make up my favorite people in all the universe. It seems the prodigal's father felt the same way, even when things changed for them. A lot of things have been added to the story, gaps filled in and what not, but in just looking at what we know, the youngest son left home after getting his inheritance, and proceeded to "waste" it on a lifestyle of excess. As I glanced over some of these things I began to question how I would feel if one or both of my boys decide in the future to not spend so much time with me, and instead began to live in a way that I would perceive to be injurious to them, physically, emotionally, etc. I need not cite examples, I think the imagination is enough to paint a picture of what I'm after, so just think of the things that might make you worry about your own kids. Would I be judgmental, and hateful to them? Would I be deeply saddened and overcome with grief? Would I try to counsel them each time I saw them that they need to change their ways? Would I tell other people how much I wish they were different? I'm not sure, and I don't think I'm fully ready to answer those things until, or if, they happen. What I am certain of is the fact that I want to cultivate in me what most certainly was in the heart of this father. I noticed when the son came home, there were recorded no remarks of judgment from him. There were no "you should have listened to me" comments, or any "I'm glad you finally came to your senses" lines, only a father's happiness that his son who was gone, now was home. That's it. If my sons get involved in hurtful, potentially damaging activities, I think it's my duty to help steer them in a more life-enhancing direction, but I also think there's a time and a place for that, and in the chronology of it all that instruction should probably come after they are convinced my love for them is still the same. And then I thought to myself, if this is the case for the "big sins" they may get into, then why shouldn't it apply to all errors in judgment, regardless of size. My boys get grouchy sometimes, and they whine, and they don't wanna do the things they need to keep a balance. As soon as I see these things, what is most important? To teach them, or to love them? It's a tough call, because I know kids need instruction from time to time, but it is becoming more and more apparant to me that what I want to give to them more than anything is my love, my understanding, my compassion, my admiration, and communicate my utter sense of joy that they're alive. It's just some of the thoughts I had jotted down here a bit loosely, but I think as a summary I just want to express the attitude of the prodigal's father is a great benchmark for our kids' transgressions.

2. The Spiritual Beauty of Daughtry's Home

Click here for the lyrics to this fascinating song, and here for the video. I'm not certain of my amount of belief right now (read previous posts Why Believe? & The God Delusion), but one thing I recall from more involved "churchier" days how beautiful it was to see a life wrecked by sin and vice repent and "make it right" by turning his life around. It was good to see a man return home who had allowed drugs & alcohol drive him from his family and kids. It was beautiful to see a woman rejoin her companion after falling prey to a profligate lifestyle that left her with a bruised heart and empty soul. Perhaps it's memories like these that immediately struck me when I began hearing this song a while back and related it to spiritual matters. Home is a grand picture of an epic spiritual journey back from degradation and despair to dignity and delight. When it begins with "I'm staring out into the night, Trying to hide the pain", I can almost see the wayward soul searching through the fog of intoxication (whatever the source) for a sense of meaning and purpose amidst their regrets. In the line "I'm going to the place where love And feeling good don't ever cost a thing", I imagine how much of a blessing it is to realize there's someone (we could capitalize this) who loves us for who we are, and not for what we can contribute to them. That's one of the most amazing pictures of Deity I can fathom. In the chorus I like the line "home...where your love has always been enough for me". Doesn't that seem like a contradiction? I mean, if the love was enough, why would one leave in the first place? Therein is a most splendid picture of what causes waywardness to begin with...discontent. So many live with a restlessness, a sense of appreciating what I have, knowing it's magnificent, but wondering if perhaps there's something else out there. It takes a lot of maturity to realize that sometimes the risk involved in trying to answer the "is their more out there" question is not worth it, for there are some things indeed that are "once lost, never regained". If what you have is enough, by all means protect it and cherish it, and certainly be very careful not to risk losing it for a phantasm. A little later the song says "I don't know why. You always seem to give me another try." Once again, if I were seeking a portrait of a Divine, this would be a spectacular brushstroke. Grace and mercy are two very pleasant concomitants of a spiritual transformation. Then later still we hear a most profound admonition: "Be careful what you wish for, 'Cause you just might get it all...And then some you don't want." Wow, true indeed. My line of thinking here is like the story of Faust. With the desire for wine, women & song comes the risk of going too far and suffering from the various maladies associated with excess in these things (for song, just think partying, etc.) Here the lesson is simply stated in the first two words "be careful", nothing more needs to be added (for or by me) concerning our choice of desires. Finally, I like the part "these places and these faces are getting old, So I'm going home". I wonder how many would rise above the squalid environ their in if they only knew they could? I read a book a long time ago called Twice-Born Men by Harold Begbie (read it here, if you wanna) in which a host of conversions were portrayed. I remember it warming my heart. It depicted many lives made low by vice brought up to respectability through religious awakening. That makes an attractive story, huh?

3. The Staggering Beauty of The Song & Scripture Together

With these two preceding thoughts in view, is it not apparant how marvelous an illustration of the Prodigal Son can be found in Home? It's almost a ready made movie! We have the script and the soundtrack already provided. If you're in the mood, enter the little cinema-for-one in your mind, read the parable, play the song, and see what images you can witness...

Somalia, Snow White, & The Sting Of A Loved One's Death

2007-05-13T14:31:00.000-04:00

Recently I read a story about a Somalian family in Indianapolis that was like a punch to the gut. Less than a full week after fleeing war-ravaged Somalia and locating in a place much safer and more secure, tragedy struck most unexpectedly. While riding a bicycle near their new home, the family’s young girl was struck and killed by a car reportedly driven by a woman who apparently fell asleep at the wheel. If viewed with media drama we might observe many of the things that went wrong to cause this senseless loss of life, and allow ourselves to be terrified of a number of seemingly harmless events. In actuality, there is really no answer to the reverberating “why” of it all, other than the fact that freak accidents happen from time to time. I could suggest that parents should keep their kids out of the road, but I’ve been guilty of letting mine go into the street to ride a bike, walk the dog, and even throw a baseball in times past. The truth of the matter, though, is the same accident could’ve easily have happened right in the front yard. I could overstate the obvious and say the woman shouldn’t have allowed herself to drive if she was that sleepy, but then again, I’ve been just as guilty of driving while tired and nearly falling asleep. Truthfully, though, this could’ve happened while she was wide awake. No doubt whoever suggested the family move in the first place is kicking themselves for making the suggestion, and the family is crushed they ever followed through. I’m sure the motorist is regretful of leaving the moment she did, for if she’d have gone a couple minutes earlier or later, this may not even be a story. But, is there really any feelings of regret that should be harbored? I suppose if we knew how we were going to die we’d avoid the causative activity with a pronounced focus. Such thinking is fruitless, and so is looking back on such an activity and saying 1) the family never should’ve moved, 2) the kid should’ve never been riding in the road, & 3) the woman should’ve pulled over for a rest before falling asleep. It just happened, plain and simple.
As if that wasn’t morbid enough, though, I came across an eerily similar account in, of all places, the fabulous book about Walt Disney by Neil Gabler. Disney & his brother, Roy, worked hard at building the company from nothing, all the while wishing they could have their aging parents closer to them. Located in southern California while mom & pop were in the Pacific Northwest, visits were very few and far between. The reason they couldn’t be closer? money. The elder Disney’s were landlords and couldn’t leave the source of their meager existence. The boys were pouring every last bit of earnings back into the company, and had none to spare to move their parents near them. Then Snow White came to the rescue. From struggling to outrageously wealthy in a few short months, Walt & Roy suddenly became enabled to buy a house and bring their beloved mom & dad to L.A. A very, very short time later, their mother was dead: seemingly due to the faulty installation or shoddy condition of a brand new heating & cooling system. The air wasn’t been circulated properly, and carbon monoxide poisoning resulted. It bears repeating: I suppose if we knew how we were going to die we’d avoid the causative activity with a pronounced focus. Such thinking is fruitless, and so is looking back on such an activity and saying 1) the family never should’ve moved, 2) the heating & cooling company should’ve never been chosen, & 3) the system should’ve been checked and re-checked prior to the move-in date. It just happened, plain and simple.
The Somalian family will begrudgingly speak of the city of Indianapolis for years to come, just like Snow White was the cause of some bitter memories for some in the Disney clan. But our great state’s capital and the lovely friend of dwarves had nothing to do with these deaths, really. The fact is people die from a plethora of different things that shouldn’t be avoided because of it. Motorcycles, cars, zoos, jet-skiing, swimming, mountain climbing, jogging in the woods, sex, sports…the list could go on and on when it comes to some of the things people have been doing when they died.
So what’s the point? Actually, it’s just a simple note to self to value every second of life, every breath, every conversation, every hug, every meal, every walk, every passed ball, every holiday, and every other seemingly “little” thing I experience. I want to be conscious of every detail, regardless of how miniscule it may seem. I want to soak up all of other people I can get, and willingly share my best self with all who are around me.
Two songs come to mind, one from yesterday, and one fresh one from today. Steven Curtis Chapman’s The Next Five Minutes & Woody Bradshaw’s The Last Thing You Do. May we all live it.

A Smudge On The Crystal Ball

2007-05-13T13:58:00.000-04:00

As I was finishing reading Neil Gabler's Walt Disney last week I came across an interesting bit o' information. Two notable things happened in the year 1955 that 50+ years later still find the world feeling the repurcussions. On April 15 of that year, Ray Kroc opened a franchised restaurant called McDonald's, in Des Plaines, Illinois. A quarter year later, on July 17, Walt opened Disneyland in Anaheim, California. At some point, the paths of Kroc & Disney crossed, and the former referenced his recent purchase of a fast-food restaurant chain, and posed to the latter his desire to open a unit inside Disneyland, which was denied. My first thought was how powerful a combination it would have been, and that Walt Disney certainly made a mistake in not seeing the potential of such a great concept as McDonald's. Then, of course, I was quick to remind myself that it doesn't look as though either company suffered anything from the avoided marriage. According to a Business Week report in 2004 concerning the top brands in the world, Disney was ranked #6 and McDonald's was #7. (Read the PDF here.)
I then recalled John Greenleaf Whittier's poignant poem Maud Miller, in which he said:

For of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: “It might have been!”

But, of course, hindsight is always 20/20. Can we really blame Disney for not accepting the offer? I think not, and here's why. In life we are frequently presented with opportunities (granted, not multi-billion dollar ones) that require split-second decisions, and sometimes we miss it. This little scenario was a gentle encourager to me in that although I may win some, and lose some, a miss doesn't necessarily mean I can't succeed in other manners.

The God Delusion

2007-05-13T13:18:00.000-04:00

After some interesting conversations both verbally and electronically with Andy the past couple of months, I've launched out into the depths of atheistic literature. The book I started this weekend is The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins, a noted atheist and gifted author, which appears to be a quite potent combination considering that this work is ranked #15 on the New York Times Best Sellers List today, and has been on the list for 32 weeks. I actually referenced Dawkins a few posts ago when I asked Why Believe?, but this is the first time I've read any of his material directly. In the post I linked to an article I found on Arts & Letters daily that I felt was well-written and just enticing enough to probe a bit further, so here I am. As if the article itself wasn't enough, the widely disparate viewpoints of a couple of my friends (Andy & Jabel) on Dawkins & atheism in general have provided the final impetus necessary to get me reading. As a matter of fact, the book was hand-delivered to me by Andy, tucked nicely into a saddle-bag on his beast of a bike and brought the many miles that separate us geographically, so I offer him my sincere thanks.

As of this post, I'm better than 10% of the way through, and already I've found many, many intriguing points. Not the least of which is Dawkins' "spectrum of probability" concerning the existence or non-existence of God. He sums it up as follows:

1. Strong theist. 100 per cent probability of God. In the words of C.G. Jung, 'I do not believe, I know.'
2. Very high probability but short of 100 per cent. De facto theist. 'I cannot know for certain, but I strongly believe in God and live my life on the assumption that he is there.'
3. Higher than 50 per cent but not very high. Technically agnostic but leaning towards theism. 'I am very uncertain, but I am inclined to believe in God.'
4. Exactly 50 per cent. Completely impartial agnostic. 'God's existence and non-existence are exactly equiprobable.'
5. Lower than 50 per cent but not very low. Technically agnostic but leaning towards atheism. 'I don't know whether God exists but I'm inclined to be sceptical.'
6. Very low probability, but short of zero. De facto atheist. 'I cannot know for certain, but I think God is very improbable, and I live my life on the assumption that he is not there.'
7. Strong atheist. 'I know there is no God, with the same conviction that Jung 'knows' there is one.'

Not too long ago I would have unquestionably placed myself in category 1, but now I'm not so sure. What I do know is that I'm determined to never latch onto any belief (or non-belief) without a copious amount of investigation...

Blast From The Past: White Lion's "Wait"

2007-05-08T12:05:00.000-04:00

I heard this song on the radio today (Sirius Big 80's) and it brought back some pretty powerful feelings. I grew up obsessed with MTV in the 80's, and this is one of the videos that I really got into. It's full of the big-hair of that decade, and invoked a lot of emotion in my teenage heart. Click here to watch the vid.

Of E-Mail Replies & Ethicist Selection

2007-05-07T14:17:00.000-04:00

Scott Adams for President! I love, love, love today's strip.

My First In-Person View Of The HWOTP

2007-05-07T09:19:00.000-04:00

I enthusiastically revealed in an earlier post a most phenomenal Christmas gift purchased for me by my adorable gal-pal Amy. Yep…she got me tix to a Christina Aguilera concert, and I’m jotting down here my musings on the mind-blowing trip we just experienced.
We left on a Thursday night last month, right after one of my Financial Accounting classes, and headed out on a road trip toward the concert venue in Cleveland, Ohio. Driving at night, not much traffic, jammin’ to some favorite tunes (thank you, God, for Sirius)…man, it was so relaxing. In a previous employ I spent many hours driving back and forth across US HWY 50 between Bedford & Cincinnati, and it seems not much has changed since last I whip-surfed that blessed asphalt. Somewhere over on 275 we had “a Big & Rich time”, and decided that one thing would help make it a perfect night, so we “had a bowl of that Skyline chili along the way.” It was aj’s first stop-off, her only other experience with Cincinnati style chili coming in the form of Skyline’s MUCH inferior rival, Gold Star. Blah!...who can eat that stuff. Skyline rocks! I even asked the (um, attractive!) waitress which was better, and she agreed Skyline gets the nod;) But, the highlight of the chili-stop was when one of us (I don’t remember which) asked who the best drummer on the planet is, and we both enthusiastically responded with “BARCH!”, and followed up with an emphatic high-five. Yep, Brian Barchman of the world-famous band Junk is the real deal…and you gotta see it to believe it! That first night ended somewhere around Columbus…just an hour or so from the concert venue…
We awoke to Friday the 13th, but this was to be no spooky day. After a quick share (we do that a lot) of Momma’s Pancake Breakfast at Cracker Barrel, we were off toward Cleveland and the Wolstein Center where the HWOTP would be belting out tunes in semi-clad grandeur in just a matter of hours. If I was excited (and I was, so why do I say if?), I kept it stoically hidden behind a stoned-faced determination. Nothing, and I repeat NOTHING, was going to stop me from layin’ blue eyes on the blonde bombshell. About mid-afternoon we spotted the Wolstein, staked out our entry point, and were off to find are snazzy jazzy razzle-dazzle of a place to stay-The Wyndham Cleveland at Playhouse Square. We located it, put my spectacular $400 car in the hands of an awe-struck valet, and strolled into the place like we were rock stars. Man, life is good. A swim & a shower later, it was time to begin the leisurely two block jaunt to the concert hall. The weather was a spot chilly, but that would be the only inconvenience of a perfect day. After standing in line for a spell, turning down some dude sellin’ $10 concert shirts (note to self: GET ONE OUTSIDE NEXT TIME, DORK!), and making the dreaded mistake of uttering the words “American Idol” in line behind a simple girl with nothing better to do than listen to strangers talk behind her and then butt in on the conversation. I really wasn’t annoyed, I’m just funnin’…but she did know a helluva lot more, it seems, even than the 2nd place Idol-addicts, the Jabels. Anyway, we got in the stadium and headed toward our seats, when I was encouraged to take a peak at a cool tattoo (or was it a necklace, aj?) on a chick’s chest. Yip, Amos, they were nice;) And then (hussssssshhhhhhh)…it was all about to happen. The opening act was Dannity Kane, which was a’ight. Next came the Pussycat Dolls, who ain’t right (which is a compliment, btw). Damn! That’s my short review. And then, the world stopped spinning…a light breeze began to blow…and I saw her, “an apparition in white”…
I simply call her “my obsession”, and the majority of folks smile and nod and offer up a simple “everybody has one”, with only a small minority of dishonest souls who are scared of anyone seein’ inside of ‘em says something akin to “there comes a time to grow up” and other snide comments. To the latter a response is not worth the bandwidth, howsoever small, so I’ll ignore them here as I do in person;) But my obsession she is, and when I first saw her silhouette on the stage before the lights came on and the music began to rip, I knew she was worthy of the admiration. For the next 2 hours she belted out hits, new and old alike, in a dizzying display of well-planned sets and mind-boggling choreography. I’ve been to concerts before, and I’ve been mesmerized by the musical talent of such bands as Rascal Flatts, Bon Jovi, System of a Down & others, but this was different somehow. This was as much a production as it was a concert, and gave a whole new meaning to the term “show”. From a critical perspective, in my opinion the whole production was flawless. Her singing is somehow even better in person; the dancing was elaborate and never missed a beat; the costumes were gorgeous and appealing; the stage decoration was very detailed and snazzy; and Christina is certainly a very beautiful woman. Wow, I was and still am in absolute awe.
I could say more and more about the concert, so if you’re interested then just get a hold of me and we’ll discuss it over a favorite libation, something fitting for a conversation about a goddess. But for sake of time & space I’ll finish up this post with a quick summary of the (only slightly) inferior activities that followed our concert experience.
We left the show and walked into downtown Cleveland amidst a throng! Billy Joel was in concert down the road, and had just let out, & the Indians had just played their home-opener at Jacobs Field, and had also just finished, so a confluence of the three crowds descended on the eateries and drinkeries of the area. We settled in a most fascinating bar called Panini’s and ate some of the delectable fare and chatted it up a bit.
The next day we set out on a whirlwind three day road trip that took us to some interesting places. Our first stop was in Buffalo, New York, where we dined at The Anchor Bar, the location of the original Buffalo Hot Wings. This was my 2nd trip to the restaurant, but hopefully not my last. We then headed up to Niagara Falls to take a quick glimpse of the falls before sundown. We were next to American Falls, and looking across to Horseshoe Falls I noticed the place I stood the last time I was there was all covered over with several feet of snow and ice. It was quite extraordinary. Our late night run-around landed us at the Seneca Niagara Casino where our string of bad luck gambling continued, then on to a club for some dancin’ and gettin’ wild.
Then on Sunday we decided to cross over into Canada for the day. We made it through the border search legally, and then we moseyed around the Canadian side of the falls before journeying up to Toronto, which was an uplifting experience, then across the Canadian highways to Detroit, then a stop-off for the night in Toledo. Holy Toledo, it was a happenin’ Sunday night and we had a blast in that city.
Monday was our day to head back home, and thus cap off the excursion with a relaxed pace drive across the northeastern Indiana countryside. All in all, I must say the journey was spectacular, and I hope to do it again.

Icky Thump by The White Stripes

2007-05-01T15:52:00.000-04:00

I just took a quick saunter by one of my latest digital haunts, londonilly, and discovered a link to check out the new White Stripes tune Icky Thump. Now, I love, love, love the white Stripes, but this track is off-da-chain! I'm not sure how long the link will work, but check it out here before it's too late!

And I Quote:...

2007-04-27T15:04:00.000-04:00

I read a fantastic article in The New Yorker today about quotes. It's worth taking a look at, especially when you consider the licentious audacity to alter a quote to make it more, well, quotable. I'm not liking this activity at all. "Whodathunkit?" Read the article here...

Why Believe?

2007-04-25T13:27:00.000-04:00

Following are a couple of quotes from an interesting article I found a link to over on Arts & Letters Daily. I'll let the article speak for itself, but there are a number of things therein that have fluttered across my limited little brain in the past couple of years. It can all be summed up in the two words I've chosen as the title for this post: why believe? To read the article in its' entirety, click here. Now for the quotes of particular interest to me:

"In his 2004 book, The End of Faith, Sam Harris pointed out that alone of all human assertions, those qualifying as "religious," almost by definition, automatically demand and typically receive immense respect, even veneration. Claim that the earth is flat, or that the tooth fairy exists, and you will be deservedly laughed at. But maintain that according to your religion, a seventh-century desert tribal leader ascended to heaven on a winged horse, or that a predecessor had done so, without such a conveyance, roughly 600 years earlier, and you are immediately entitled to deference. It has long been, let us say, an article of faith that at least in polite company, religious faith — belief without evidence — should go unchallenged.
No longer. If recent books — many of them by prominent biologists — are any indication, the era of deference to religious belief is ending as faith is subjected to gimlet-eyed scrutiny."

Then...

"On the one hand, religious belief of one sort or another seems ubiquitous, suggesting that it might well have emerged, somehow, from universal human nature, the common evolutionary background shared by all humans. On the other hand, it often appears that religious practice is fitness-reducing rather than enhancing — and, if so, that genetically mediated tendencies toward religion should have been selected against. Think of the frequent advocacy of sexual restraint, of tithing, of self-abnegating moral duty and other seeming diminutions of personal fitness, along with the characteristic denial of the "evidence of our senses" in favor of faith in things asserted but not clearly demonstrated. What fitness-enhancing benefits of religion might compensate for those costs?
The question itself is novel. Social scientists, for example, have long considered religion as sui generis, not as a behavioral predisposition that arose because in some way it contributed to the survival and reproduction of its participants. For Richard Dawkins (The God Delusion) as well as Daniel C. Dennett (Breaking the Spell), religion is primarily the misbegotten offspring of memes that promote themselves in human minds: essentially, religion as mental virus, thus something adaptive for "itself" and not for its "victims." Or it could be a nonadaptive byproduct of something adaptive in its own right. For example, children seem hard-wired to accept parental teaching, since such advice is likely to be fitness-enhancing ("This is good to eat," "Don't pet the saber-tooth"). In turn, this makes children vulnerable to whatever else they are taught ("Respect the Sabbath," "Cover your hair") as well as downright needy when it comes to parentlike beings, leading especially to the patriarchal sky god of the Abrahamic faiths."

"A World Between A Lilac And A Wall"

2007-04-24T12:03:00.000-04:00

After a lapse of a few weeks, I finally dug into some more of Michael Pollan's oustanding writing again this week. This time, in My Two Gardens, he paints a great picture that includes, among other things, a child's fascination with gardening; a father's disdain for lawn maintenence; a grandfather's passion for neatness, tidiness, orderliness and an utter disapproval of weeds and beards (which, somehow, go together); and the effects the passage of time has on both gardens and families. I'm currently not in a position to focus on gardening, so I think Pollan's accounts are giving me a vicarious thrill...

I'm Not The Center of The Universe

2007-04-24T08:31:00.000-04:00

"We assume our personal preferences are the standard by which all art should be judged."

Once again, Scott Adams has delivered a thought-provoking post over on his Dilbert blog. I've noticed this phenomenon many times & in a variety of ways, and I've come to my own personal conclusion that it's rooted in that God-awful trait called selfishness. This characteristic goes way beyond our judgment of art, and touches so many other areas of our lives. No, the fact is, there are billions of other people in the world, and I'm not the star that the rest of the world revolves around. This is good to know...

In Case You Planned On Being Appreciated Today

2007-04-19T14:08:00.000-04:00

I make time to read the Dilbert blog (see my Frogroll to the right for the link), and also click over from there frequently to the daily comic strip. The one above is actually from yesterday, and I like it so well I just had to link to it because I really connect with it in a number of ways. I don't work or do anything in life expecting appreciation, but every once in a while I'll think someone may appreciate my gesture just a little. Yeah, well, my "false hope" has been flattened more than once! Life is grand, I love every minute of it...and that's a true story.

Borat

2007-04-12T15:40:00.000-04:00

Well, I finally did it. I gave in and watched this insane film some friends had recommended entitled Borat: Cultural Learnings of America For Make Benefit Glorious Nation Of Kazakhstan I don't know that I'll rate it as one of the funniest movies I've ever watched, but it certainly has it's moments. Two such moments I've found on youtube, and included them here:

1.) The opening plus some deleted scenes. Check out the clip at 4:09 into it to see the deleted scene of Borat in the grocery store being introduced to Cheese. Click here.

2.) The part of the movie where Borat meets "Mr. Jesus" at a Pentecostal church service, and speaks in tongues. Click here.

I've read where Sacha Baron Cohen got sued because of the frat boys scene, which is what provided the final motivation to watch the thing in the first place. I just had to see what the fuss was about.

*****UPDATE*****
Click here for a United Pentecostal Church International take on the comedic intentions of Sacha Baron Cohen in their church service.

"Canada Huh?...Almost Made It"

2007-04-11T10:02:00.000-04:00

I was reminded of this movie today, so I decided to post about one of the greatest scenes in all of comedy movie history. It's the opening scene to Super Troopers, and you just haven't lived life to the fullest if you haven't watched it.

I've viewed this part of the movie time and time again, and for some reason, it never gets old...

Enough Of The %$*& Nonsense Already!

2007-04-10T14:20:00.000-04:00

Okay, first off I need to say that this is not a vote of support for Don Imus. Perhaps I'm just not enough in-the-know when it comes to radio personalities not named Limbaugh or Stern (and I don't listen to either of them), but I don't recall ever hearing of this guy prior to the events I'm writing about today.

Last week Mr. Imus made some comments that really have pissed off a boatload of people. He called the basketball players from Rutgers women's team "nappy-headed hos". He's since offered to meet the team and offer another apology. In reference to this meeting, one of the players, Matee Ajavon said: "“I could say that we honestly don’t know what to expect from Don Imus and what we will plan on asking him is his reasons and how you could just say things that you have not put any thought to? Right now I can’t really say if we have come to a conclusion of whether we will accept the apology. What I can say I think this meeting will be crucial for us, the state of New Jersey and everybody representing us.” (Read the article here.) First of all, Matee, I should point out that these were comments made during an (apparantly) unscripted interview, in which case it's quite common to say things you haven't put a lot of thought into. Secondly, Matee, who among us says things we've completely thought out 100% of the time? I'd venture to say it's mighty close to none of us. From time to time we say things off the top of our head without thinking much about it. Does that make hurtful things excusable? No, of course not, just like it doesn't mean every cotton pickin' thing said is right. Sometimes we say hurtful, and incorrect things. So what? It's a part of our rights contained in the 1st Amendment..."freedom of speech".

Now, my biggest question is this: why is Don Imus being given such a hard time while, say 50 Cent & Snoop Dogg who "never hesitate to shoot a ho", Chingy who asks "got his money ho?", & Ludacris who proclaims "youza ho" on his hit song, "Ho", are selling records like there's no tomorrow, all the while offering up "ho's" and "nigga's" on nearly every track?

In all honesty, I (a white male), would pay money to hear any of these artists (all black men) sing, and I own albums by each and every one of them; and, it bears repeating, I don't listen to Don Imus (a white male) at all. But, is it okay for some to say "ho" while others should be castigated? Don't mind me, I'm just rapping out loud...

*****UPDATES*****
(Added 4-17-07)
Here's an interesting article from ESPN.com's Page 2, entitled Imus shouldn't give hip-hop a bad rap. Perhaps I've been corrected...

(Added 4-24-07)
I've been posting a lot lately from Scott Adams, but in his most recent Dilbert Blog post he offered an interesting take on the highlights of this story. I have to agree with him...

The Innocent Man

2007-04-10T11:58:00.000-04:00

While on vacation a couple of weeks ago I finished John Grisham's latest book, The Innocent Man. I've read every book published by Grisham, in order, so I'm quite experienced with his writing style and ability. This is his first non-fiction legal thriller, and in my opinion it is a splendid read. If you like his novels (my fav is The Partner), then you'll certainly be entertained by this one that, though minus the wonders of created characters, is just as compelling and full of suspense.

In a related bit of news, I read this article yesterday about a man in Texas who is going to be exonerated because of DNA testing in his case. James Curtis Giles (not the evangelist, Jabel) is being helped by The Innocence Project which I first read about in the Grisham book.

With the rise of CSI and other crime-solving shows, the focus on forensic science is at an all time high. Crime scene investigation, though, is not fool-proof, and the ethics (good and bad) of the investigators seems to play a much larger role than what I ever considered. I always thought it was pretty cut and dried, but alas, once again, I was wrong...

*****UPDATE*****
4-23-07
Another Innocence Project victory, it seems. Click here.

"Keep Moving Forward"

2007-04-08T22:33:00.000-04:00

Friday night I took my yahoo's to see the new Disney animated feature Meet The Robinsons, a retro-futuristic film, that, in my mind, was a little Back To The Future-esque. It's a thrill a minute going to see a film at the theater with my guys, and when we see something as action-packed and adventurous as this one, it's an even cooler experience, it seems. I'll give my thumbs-up to the film, even if it doesn't quite reach Toy Story or Shrek status. I was much pleased with both the animation and the story line. I have to make a soul-baring confession, though. The feel-good ending got me all choked up, and when the central theme and lesson of the movie, "keep moving forward", was revealed to be drawn from a quote by my new-found hero Walt Disney, I had tears in my eyes. The movie closes with this profoud quotation:

“Around here, however, we don’t look backwards for very long. We keep moving forward, opening up new doors and doing new things… and curiosity keeps leading us down new paths.”–Walt Disney

I applaud the Disney desire to motivate and encourage us to reach forward and achieve great things...this is a beautiful motive. I'm elated to see that forty years after Walt Disney's death, his great company is carrying the torch he lit onward to a new generation of young people surrounded by their own struggles and difficulties. I'm about 60% of the way through Neil Gabler's biography of Walt, and I've read time and again how he overcame great obstacles and personal hardships to create this imagination factory we still recognize today as one of the greatest companies of all time. Knowing Walt Disney was a determined, hard-working, persistent individual, quotes like the one above have an even more profound impact.

The movie began, quite interestingly, with a short of Mickey, Donald & Pluto building a boat, entitled Boat Builders (Note: this hyperlink takes you to the page on bcdb.com, which is for the "Big Cartoon Database") I've been reading about the Disney shorts and the impact they had on the world of animation, and about Mickey and the impact he's had on the world, so although I've seen a boatload of the cartoons before, I'm watching now with a brand new enthusiasm.

Mickey specifically out of all of the Disney characters seems to be the most like Walt, what with his "pluck", aw-shucks persona and win-at-all-costs determination. Also found at the beginning of this latest Disney feature was a snapshot of Mickey in Steamboat Willie. As I was driving home the other night (we watched the late show, so it was after 11 p.m.), and my boys had dozed off, I began using my imagination a bit and wondering if there wasn't something to that interesting title, "Steamboat Willie". It was the first sound cartoon to gain widespread appeal, and thus was a pioneer in the world of animation. It was also early in the rise of Mickey as a national icon, and was enjoying great success when America was nearing the unprecidented financial crisis which was the Great Depression. In my mind's eye the other night, I quickly broke down the title and realized it was made up of all kinds of "keep moving forward" ideas.

1) "Steam..." I need not go into great detail, suffice it to say one of our more recognizable motivation phrases is "full-steam ahead".

2) "...boat..." Is there a stream, a wide-river, an ocean even in your way? No fear, build a boat and float across the depths until you reach your goal on the other side.

3) "...Will..." One dictionary defines "will" as "diligent purposefulness; determination". Cliche', yes, but I still love "where there's a will, there's a way".

4) "...i..." In a time where blaming others on our problems and dire circumstances is seemingly running rampant, it's quite important to realize that if we are to make it in life, we've got to depend on ourselves. There's a lot of power in having an "I can" attitude.

5) "...e" Finish it off with a little "e for effort", and we've got ourselves a veritable motivational address in two words that's enough to fuel the fulfilment of our dreams for the rest of our days.

In spite of failures, disappointments, setbacks, hardships, & difficulties...keep moving forward.

Cayman '07 Post 7

2007-04-02T13:10:00.000-04:00

Yeah, it was hard to sleep Thursday night, knowing that it would be my last in paradise for a while. The windows were open, the constant and stiff ocean breeze filled the rooms with a pleasant ambiance, and should’ve been just the tonic for a perfect rest. Alas, my mind would have none of it, and was actively recalling every sandy step on the beach, every salty splash of the sea, every tingle of sunshine, and every smile and nod from my fellow countrymen and the locals throughout this past week. Driving away from the resort was done with a palpable content, realizing I’ve been afforded a most enjoyable excursion that isn’t enjoyed by everyone, and for that I’m very appreciative. One last trip along the coastal highway and my level of satisfaction rose to euphoric levels…once again, windows down, music up.
Check-in at the airport after dropping off the rental car was mostly smooth, if not just a smidgeon too long and involved. I was a bit miffed about having to pull out my passport 3 times for review prior to getting back to my terminal waiting area, but hey, that’s one of the prices of freedom and protection from terror, I presume. Or, perhaps more likely, it adds to my sense of security, whether I’m actually any more safe with all of these procedures is anyone’s guess.
My first golden moment of the day was when my youngest son blurted out “Big Black Dick” loudly in the food court area of the George Town airport. I glanced over, and sure enough, he was right. Right out in the open is a 7 foot statue (pic above) of some pirate named Big Black Dick, and there’s a variety of rums that bear his name. I’d forgotten about him…my God, stop already!
A little later my 2nd “oh yeah!” moment happened, in the duty-free liquor store called “Bodden Freeport”. I walked in, and the attendant was an oriental chick. What got me was what was playing on her radio: Eric Church’s song Guys Like Me! He’s one of my fav modern country artists, and that song specifically I like to think I identify with (minus the “best blue jeans have Skoal rings” part-I’m not that tough, it seems…) I came out to my waiting spot and pulled out my DJ and plugged in the album Sinner Like Me, my first listen of this one all week long. I swiftly determined it’s a perfect soundtrack for my pre-flight home to the good ol’ Midwest of the the U.S.A. Yip, you can take the boy outta the country, but you can’t take the country outta the boy! (Man, was that cliché or what?...)
Oh, my…after going through all of the international travel procedures, we finally made it back to American soil not a moment too soon. A brief encounter with the drug-sniffing beagle (relax, by encounter I don’t mean getting caught) at Tampa caused us much amusement. I guess I expected all security dogs were supposed to look menacing, but alas, there is a job for the apparently harmless ones, too. The airport there is much roomier and modernized, with loads and loads of things to do to occupy the tedium of a layover. I had just pulled out my computer and said to myself something about there needing to be free wi-fi in places like that when, true story, I heard the tinny voice over the intercom say it was offered. I quickly jumped online and goofed off a bit…and listened to some more Eric Church.
The last leg of out return trip was fine, except the plane leaked, the furnace was stuck in the off position, and there were no free peanuts. But we made it home safely, and the trip was enjoyed by all...(Note: the pic above is from Rum Point, one of our fav haunts on our journey.)

Cayman '07 Post 6

2007-03-29T23:53:00.000-04:00

Exhaustion...sun-wearied (and a little burned)...missin' the ones we love...yep, it's pretty obvious the vacation is almost over, as the signs are becoming obvious. Our stingray excursion was indeed cancelled today, and we found out the catamaran will resume visits out there tomorrow at 9 a.m., at which time we'll already be on our way to catch our flight back to America. Oh well, spirits are still very high all around, these aforementioned challenges notwithstanding. I've asked my boys at least a dozen times today I guess if they were still having a good time, and if they're glad they came, to which they both answered in the affirmative with much enthusiasm each time. We headed to Rum Point again, this time taking advantage of the beautiful sunshine to spend some time on the beach up there. We worked on sandcastles, ate lunch, chilled in a hammock and even scouted a couple hundred feet out into the sea (by far our furthest such adventure of the week). The drive back (about 30 minutes) was another good time of sea-side, wrong side of the road driving with the windows down and the tunes' volume up. We've heard a lot of Justin Timberlake down here, and my yahoo's are picking up quite a liking for him. His latest single (though I haven't heard it on the states radios yet) is Summer Love, a song I immediately started to dig when I got the Future Sex/ Love Sounds album a few months back, has been on frequent rotation here. I predicted to a couple of friends when I first heard it that it would be a big hit, probably hitting number 1 about summertime. Well, here's my chance to see if everyone else likes it as much as me. I noticed it's not in the Top 40 yet, but I see that two others from the album are this week, My Love (22) & What Goes Around (2). While I'm on the subject I might as well give a plug: go buy this album, it's awesome.

After getting back we chilled a while and then went down to the pool area and wound up playing shuffleboard (which is right next to the easternmost pool) for an hour or so. We then ventured down the beach to the neighboring resort so the boys could try to find their friends from Illinois, Tim & Tom, who played b-ball with us the other night, but to no avail. We then took a quick drive for soft drinks and snacks to the local gas station, and looked around at some of the side streets a bit. We noticed that although there is plenty of opulence and grandeur along the coast line with the resorts and mansions, there is also plenty of the squalid variety of living quarters as well. I doubt there's much of a middle class here...ya either got it or ya don't, it seems! On the way back, as we we're pulling into the resort's parking lot the radio began playing Daughtry's Home, and I was thus afforded a golden opportunity to show my boys how music can run parallel to life so closely sometimes. I think they'll think of our little conversation everytime they hear that terrific song from here out. By the way, it really is a great song, even when you're not watching Idol.

To wrap up the night we went back out to the beach, lounged back on the beach chair's and looked at the stars. We quickly found the big dipper and the North Star, and then my boys dazzled me with the story of love lost but not forgotten concerning Orion. I was quite impressed as they showed my Orion's Belt and told me all the details they knew...it was enchanting. After an hour and half or so out there we came back in and started packing for the travel day we have tomorrow.

So, as I wind down for the last night of sleep in paradise, I'm wrapping up my thoughts with the proverbial "bittersweet" emotions. I'm sad it's all gone so fast; I'm terribly gloomy over the fact that I'll not be able to spend time with my boys like this for some time; on the flip side, though, I'm very thankful for the opportunity that I've had, and I think I've got my batteries recharged and am ready to hit the ground running when I get back home; also, I'm thrilled at the thought of seeing the ones I love again and getting back in the groove with all my friends and family and know that I'll have a blast telling them all about our trip. I know one thing is for sure: I have no regrets for the place we chose to spend Spring Break this year, and I'm determined to work as hard as possible to ensure it's not a one-time experience. To keep my spirit's up upon arriving back home I'll make sure I spend a lot of time at Cheeseburger In Paradise and not a few hours watching the Pirates of the Caribbean series, both experiences with a lot of Cayman memories...

Cayman '07 Post 5

2007-03-28T21:46:00.000-04:00

We saw a shirt earlier in the week that said something like: "The pirate alphabet begins with Arrrrrrrrrrrrrr". Well, today was pirate-y from start to finish, and I think my yahoo's loved it. The day started with "Pirates of the Caribbean" day at the Kids Club at the resort. The boys joined the expedition today from 8 till noon and spent their time searching for treasure and making pirate crafts and such. I used the time alone to do my favorite oceanic activity...walking the beach jammin' to some tunes on my DJ. An interesting thought crossed through my noodle while strolling along the edge of the sea. I wonder if everyone else is like me when they have headphones on, and feel like they are in a music video. As I pass people sometimes I think I look at them like they can hear the music that's in my head. They probably think I'm nuts, and sometimes I think I agree. Anyway, I chose Kenny Chesney's "Be Here (Songs From An Old Blue Chair)" to get me started. Call me crazy, but I've waited the entire trip to plug this in and listen to it straight through when I was by myself. It's quite the introspective album, and I just knew I'd like to be able to let it soak in while I was focused. A chick from Minnesota I talked to 1 or 5 times this week called it "thinking your own thoughts" when she was giving her goodbye today before she flew back with her fam to the frozen north. I couldn't agree more, and that's exactly what I do when I'm out on the sand: I narrow it all down to and have a meeting with my own mind, and try to get things settled. Few people know it, but it was on the beach in Ft. Myers, FL, all alone a few years ago when I first made the decision to make some huge changes in my life...and I don't regret the counsel I got from the crashing waves. I don't believe I made any earth-shattering decisions today, but I did enjoy the time to chill a bit. I moved on from the KC album and it's focus on introspection and found myself listening to one of the greatest "couple" albums of all time, Darren Hayes' "Spin". Sweet and lover-focused, I've listened to it at least 4 times since I've been on holiday, and it affects me every time. He's a terrific singer, but it's the lyrics and subject matter that carry this album beyond just an entertaining listen. It's def a fav of mine...

Moving on, we left after the Kids Club outing and headed to Geore Town to pay a visit to the Jolly Roger, a pirate themed ship on which we rode out a ways into the Caribbean and enjoyed pirate antics. The pic above is of us trying to get on our sea legs and keep from falling overboard into Davy Jones' locker. Since I'm writing this, we evidently made it...or did we? Sorry, that was weird. The whole adventure was fun, and the boys fo' sho' enjoyed being able to jumb off the side of the ship into the warm sea water.

After returning to land we were powerful hungry, so us scurvy dogs piled into a corner booth at the Hard Rock Cafe, Cayman Islands. We enjoyed the fare and atmosphere, then headed back on the coastal highway trip to the resort. After a short stint at the hot tub, it soon became time for us to get our weary bones back to the room and prep for the nightly crash. Our day tomorrow was supposed to be our exciting trip to Stingray City, but the wind has made for some extremely rough seas this week, and on the radio we heard of an "incident" with a stingray and a profusion of jellyfish in the water, so, um, yeah...that trip has been cancelled. Not by me, but by the coastal authorities, so I guess we'll have to try that again next time. So, I guess we'll just have to spend our last day on the beach. Arrgggghhhhh;)

Cayman '07 Post 4

2007-03-27T22:54:00.000-04:00

"Seven steps and to the ocean" "Set, hut, HUT"...Ahh, Peyton Manning himself has probably never called a play that brought him more excitement than this one brought me. I promised I'd snap a photo of the magic football (if you're in the dark, then get with the program and read back a few posts, would ya!?!?), so here 'tis. Um, yeah...that's the Caribbean Sea in the background...and, yeah, that's the world's most perfect football in the foreground. I wouldn't trade this ball for a Manning autographed official Roger Goodell N.F.L. pigskin, 10 of 'em, in fact. Yep, today had us out on the sandy gridiron once again, and yep, it was a blast. But, I'm gettin' ahead of myself, so let me get back to keeping with the chronology.

We got up this morning, and after a healthy breakfast that I'm sure included Oreo's and Skittles (among other, more nutritious things...though I can't recall their names right now) we headed out and played shuffleboard. Oh, my...if you think it's a sport reserved for old farts on cruises, you've got another thing comin'! It takes some serious skill and athleticism to push the two-pronged three mile long stick into the edge of the hockey puck on steroids apparatus across a scalding hot, green concrete rectangle with painted triangles of nonsensical number combinations and not mess up previously struck apparatuses. I had to surf the www just to find the rules for the fool game, but once I did and taught it to my boys, they saw it as just another sports challenge, and well, let's just say the apples haven't fallen far from the tree with these two. You should see the pics I snapped of them playing the game. You'd think they WERE Peyton Manning leading a closing-minutes-of-the-Super-Bowl-drive with his team down by 5...just...gotta...score...one...more...time. Yeah, it was fun, even for me...but the best part was watchin' them get so involved. Nothing makes me as a dad any prouder than seeing them give 110%, whether it's the basketball court (hang on, I'll get to THAT in a bit), the baseball diamond, the soccer pitch, and now, the shuffleboard ?, whatever it's called.

After that we hit the room for a snack or three and then headed out to play some big time football by the sea side once again. It was quite hot by this time so the game only lasted about 20 minutes, then it was time for the pools.

While we were at the pool some dude shook down a coconut and used his machete (yeah, I'm certain he shaves with it) to cut it open for some folks across the way. They must've saw the skin and bones on me and my yahoo's b/c they sent over a nice young lady ;) and she offered us a few bites. I was not impressed with the coconut.

It's been windy as all get out around here this week. I mean, Kansas tornado windy. We spent most of the day in the pools, and the cool thing is you almost don't even need a towel when you get out. I mean you're almost dry by the time you get from the water's edge to your towel, so the towel is just a formality (seriously, how totally UNCOOL would you be going to the pool without a towel? c'mon, now). Anyway, we swam, they swam more, and I read and listened to music all day (mainly Rascal Flatts...they're unbelievable).

Until about sunset, that is. I gathered up my fellers and volunteered them for a walk down the beach at sunset. I told them that it was one of my most favorite things in all the world to do, and they were totally wearing a look of "yeah, whatever dad, uh-huh, that's nice" on their faces. Somewhere about paragraph three of my beautifully poetic discourse on how pleasant it is to walk on that part of the beach where footprints disappear in the surf, it happened. With no less excitement than a pig in poop (thanks, Michael Pollan), my boys saw a basketball goal. About 100 feet from the water is a fenced-in turfed area with a hoop! "Can we go see it, daddy, please please please?" "Are you kiddin' me, we're Hoosiers for crying out loud, of COURSE we can go see it. If you're nice and quiet and reverent, perhaps you can even touch it...go ahead, it's okay..." Yeah, we walked up to it, and yeah, we found ourselves in a little 3 on 3 in just a matter of seconds. At this point I need to mention that my team went 3 and 0. Never lost a game. Nope, not one. I even played barefoot (with a cut on my left big toe to bring home and brag about like a war wound), and we still won. My outside shot was non-existant (because of the wind, of course), but my drive to the bucket and lay-in was on, big time. 3 & 0...woo-hoo! Okay, those of you who know me are wondering what's up, since I'm not really this bragadocious about anything. You're right, you saw right through me. What I failed to mention is that the court on which we were playing was the sea-side end of the infamous tennis court where I suffered two of the most crushing tennis defeats of my life the last time I was here. Three years ago I got to talkin' to some high school kids from Chicago, they found out I played in High School, and one thing led to another. I bet a kid named Jimmy a drink that I could beat him, and well, just to rub it in he beat me twice. I think I won 4 games in the two matches (I really do know how you feel, Jabel), so the hurt has been with me for these three years. I lost a piece of my pride then, but tonight, I got it back. B-A-C-K! So what if it was a basketball game against 1) my brother (skills? well, Kobe he's not, but a worthy adversary nonetheless) 2) my oldest son (skills? yeah, but he's almost 2 feet shorter) & Tim (skills? definitely, but he's 13). It still felt good to win on that court, for once. But as I walked off the court I could've sworn a Jimmy in apparition form whispered: "loser". Perhaps it was just the wind.

So went our day...tomorrow is pirates, pirates, pirates and Thursday is stingrays, so we'll be away from the athletics for a while and learn that there is more to life than sports. But when all that other stuff is out of the way, I'm sure one of us will pick up a ball and suggest to the others it's time to get back to bidness!

Cayman '07 Post 3

2007-03-26T22:31:00.000-04:00

Our first order of bidness today was another fantastic football game on the beach (I'll try to snap a photo of the magic ball in the sand and post it tomorrow). After gettin' all sweaty and covered in sand and scrapes it was off for a brief repast in the hammock, just to chill. Then we journeyed over the "the pool with the island" where we spent the next few hours, loungin' and goofin' off. The pools are not so full of people this week because the water is frigid in all of them. We've noticed that if you dive in and get soaked all at once it's not so bad, but if you try the "dip your toes in first" method, you'll freeze to death somewhere around mid-thigh. If this sounds like a complaint, trust me, it's forced. The cool water is a perfect contrast to the burning sunshine, and offers a pleasant refuge from the heat. A lot of music and reading for me, interspersed with splashing and dunking games aplenty with my yahoo's was my course for the day...ah, the simple things are best, for sure.

The evening was supposed to be festive at the resort with a fire-eater and limbo party, but the wind and forecast for rain forced a postponement. After petting the iguana, and feeding it flowers, we headed back to Rum Point for the sunset. The pic above is of us on the deserted Rum Point beach where we goofed off and laid low before heading back to the our place. On the way back we ate at Over The Edge Cafe, an interesting, pirate-y atmosphere of an eatery that is, quite literally, built over the edge of the shoreline and looks out on the Caribbean.

Overall we've had another spectacular day, a lack of extracurricular activities notwithstanding. I mean, seriously, we're on a beautiful island in perfect weather...what more do we need? I've got my boys, my cell phone is turned off, and I feel at once attached and detached at the same time. Everything else in life is put on hold for a few days, and my fellas get all of my attention. I'm not quite sure they know it, but I can't imagine anything I'd rather be doing in all the world than having them close to me. If I'm dreaming, don't wake me just yet...

Cayman '07 Post 2

2007-03-25T21:13:00.000-04:00

Just another day in paradise... It's been quite busy and relaxing today. Oxymoronic? Nope, not when you're in a place like this, where it seems the busier I am the more relaxed I feel. Which just goes to show it may not be the busy-ness of the rat race back home that saps my energy, but rather the surroundings...perhaps I really should check into employment on the island...

Anyway, my two yahoo's and I took a quick trip out to Rum Point first thing this morning and checked out the scene up there. This 2nd picture is of me and Brit somewhere 'tween here and there at a spot close to the ocean. The panorama at this site was quite spectacular, and the boys just had to stop so they could snap some shots of it on their cameras. I, quite unreluctantly, obliged them and we had a grand time just looking around and taking it all in. The drive along the coastal highway (which is like a two-lane, country highway back home in Indiana, except the shoulder of the road is the Caribbean...just a small difference, right?) with the windows down and the music blaring was perfect. It was one of those times I have with my kids from time to time where I just don't want it to end. I wanted the road to go on and on and on, but that's just a dad's wishful thinking, I presume, and quite impossible. It was perfect while it lasted, and I predict the memory will last a lifetime. At the Point we meandered through the island shops, eateries and walkways and wound up out on a long pier (at which I snapped the 1st pic above, of Boston) surrounded by the turquoise sea. It's beautiful in pictures, but seeing the color of the clear water in person was breathtaking. After some time we wound up back at one of the drinking holes and enjoyed some smoothies by the sea side, and watched the people parade past on a myriad of unknown adventures. It was a spectacular morning.

Upon returning to the resort we played shuffleboard (what's the point, anyone? I haven't a clue about that game...) and then headed to the pool for a spell. They swam, I read, and all was grand in my own little world once again. I'm still convinced reading is fantastic anywhere, but in the sun it is a pleasant revelry unknown to most, otherwise there'd be more books in the hands of the sun-worshippers. Try it once, you'll be hooked...

One of the things we've been anticipating for months is playing football in the sand. We have been privileged to own the world's most perfect football (bought, of all places, at Old Navy for $2.99 about three years ago), and I'd almost swear it's magical. I plan on putting it on display someday when my boys outgrow it, and I may even charge admission for folks to see the enchanted thing! Anyway, we brought it and sure enough, it's magic works here just like it does at home. With the ocean as one sideline and the edge of the beach volleyball court the other, we trudged through the sand and played a magnificent game. ESPN wasn't filming, but if they had just an inkling of an idea how great it was they'd be upset they missed it. Covered in sand and having to wash it off in the warm sea water was another euphoric hour we shared today.

After all of this activity, little tummies were growling again so I got the champs back to the room and let them shower and change while I fixed them something to eat: a bowl of cereal for Brit and some Oreo's and milk for Bos (it's a guy trip, you should've seen our shopping cart at the grocery yesterday!). While they settled in and relaxed over some Disney channel (thanks to Neil Gabler, I'll look at all things Disney with much respect and admiration), I made my way out to the hammock with my mp3 player and the much referenced Walt Disney biography. I decided to plug in Kenny Chesney's No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problems, for who better to serenade here than the island boy himself? With the strong sea-breeze blowing, and the hammock holding me suspended twixt heaven and earth, Kenny's songs took me away to a season of bliss rare and wonderful. Every song on the album is terrific, but I had to pause and do some soul searching when I heard A Lot Of Thing's Different. I recalled a conversation I had with a gal pal earlier in the week in which she talked about how she wishes sometimes she'd have "let go" a little more on a Spring Break from years ago. In the hammock I thought of many times in my life I'd also have let go, and a helluva lot of times I'd have held back...yeah, I'd have done a lot of things different too, Kenny. The daylight was nearly gone and the stars were beginning to creep out, and the palm trees holding up my resting spot were swaying seemingly in time to the gentle rythms of the music when I got my next lyrical jolt from this album. Never Gonna Feel Like That Again hit me in the gut. Check this out:

It was my life and it was fun

Another season of my life is done

Another race I'm glad I got to run

Another chapter of my life is over

No I'm never gonna feel like that again

Time's rushin by me like the wind

Never be as young as I was then

No I'm never gonna feel like that again

How true, how perfectly said. I have a lot of memories of feelings I'll never recapture, but thank God we're designed to be able to hold on to the remembrances in our minds. I felt connected once again. Connected to my past, attached to every person and every event I've encountered, and eternally linked to every moment of my life by a string of memories. Yeah, life is grand.

A sudden island squall nearly upended me out of my hammock, so with the wind to my back and the rain pelting me horizontally I mosied back to the room and watched it within the safety of the structure. I've lived another day in my dream world, and I'll pillow my head tonight with recollections of it preparing me for my return to the real world in less than a week. Yes, I'm not oblivious to the fact my reverie will end soon enough, but I'm trying to grasp as much of it as I can to take home with me...

Cayman '07 Post 1

2007-03-24T19:20:00.000-04:00

My first night and day in the islands with my boys is in the bag, and Paradise finds us in a sense of wonder and awe at how splendid life is here. As I write this I'm sitting on our beachside back porch, looking out over the Caribbean and enjoying the brisk but pleasant ocean breeze. It's a perfect 83 degrees and the outlook is for a remarkable week.

The trip didn't have such an auspicious beginning, though. Upon landing in Ft. Lauderdale, FL to connect to our Cayman Air flight we were told that the airline no longer hosted flights to Grand Cayman. Nice of them to tell us, I thought. No, we couldn't fly out of Ft. Lauderdale but they'd be happy to let us fly from Miami a little later in the evening, they said. Great, I continued thinking to myself, we'll just hitchhike down I-95 and hop a jet outta Miami, then, no problem. Besides, it's smack dab in the middle of rush hour, getting the 30+ miles down the road should be no problem at all. Whatever! Well, long story short, a hefty-priced cab ride and a whole lotta testing of my peacable, quiet, patient manner later had us in Miami, and we caught our flight...just three hours later to the island than expected. I thought it was all better once we got on board, and was making my plans on picking up the rental car at the airport and driving the 45 minutes to our resort. Wishful thinking that, I would soon find out. After disemabarking, hustling (surprisingly!) through Imigration & Customs, and venturing out into the beautiful Grand Cayman night I strolled over the the rental car counter. Yep, they were closed...and had been for 2 hours. What!?! Luckily, one of the guys at the competitors counter had come back into the office, bedecked in a t-shirt with the sleeves ripped out lookin' more like he was ready to ride his bike across town than rent me a car, and kindly hooked me up. The drive was magnificent, and I thought to myself at least 63 times about how much I really want to live here, no Wal-mart notwithstanding. We arrived at Morritt's around 11 p.m., and alas, the pearly gates had been opened.

So here we are. The pic above is of me and my yahoo's, Boston (10) & Britain (8), at one of the resort's 3 pools catchin' some rays and ready to get wet. I'm kind of a camera hog most of the time, so it's rare I make it into any pics, so I was sure to get my brother Cory to snap this one before I got completely outta control with the digi-cam. The boys are havin' a terrific time, and I'm finding the relaxed pace is giving me plenty of time to catch up with them.

It's been 3 years and 1 devastating hurricane since I've been here, but I was thrilled to look out the back window and see that the hammock I spent so much time in back then is still around. It may be a different bit of material, and perhaps even different trees (for all I know), but the location is close if not exactly the same. I've spent time there again already, and there'll be a "jeremy" print in it before the week's out, I'm sure. I brought 3 books: John Grisham's latest (and first non-fiction legal thriller) The Innocent Man, the Gabler biography Walt Disney previously mentioned in another post, and then, of course, my current Harvard Classic volume. Boston told me earlier today: "C'mon, dad, quit readin' and get back in the pool...you're on vacation, don't ya know!" I replied: "Son, reading IS a vacation for me...", and then got in the pool with him because there's nothing I'd rather do than hang out with him and his brother.

So, there you have it. Day 1 & 2 has supplied me with a cargo ship full of reflections, and I've narrowed it down to the realization that I relish most the simple things in life; relationships, reading & roamin' close to the sea. I may just have to do some job-hunting while I'm here...

Hooters...Modified

2007-03-20T10:34:00.001-04:00

Sometimes you read the news, and an article just gets right up in your face and won't move. Yeah, well, I read one of those yesterday. It's this piece I read about the opening of a Hooters restaurant in Israel. Something about that just cracks me up. Perhaps it's my inability to think of Isreael in any other frame of mind than Sunday school, and therefore an article like this makes me think thoughts like "God is really gonna be pissed about this".

If you've never been to a Hooters restaurant, just know that it's not an owlery. No, birds are nowhere to be found there, and you'll not be viewing any Blue-footed booby's (though the ones with white tennis shoes you'll see aplenty). Anyhow, the point of the post today is how hilarious the line in the article that said the owner expected there'd be "some minor modifications to meet Israeli tastes".

Hooters...modified.

What will they change? Boobs are boobs are boobs are boobs. Will they be wearing shirts that aren't as tight? Will their shorts be a shade longer? Is there really any point? I don't plan on going to a place like Hooters to see waitresses dressed like they're at Applebee's...I mean, that's the whole point, right? Oh, I almost forgot...we all go to Hooter's for the hot wings. My bad.

Now according to Holy Writ, this is not uncommon in Isreal. In David's time they must've had a similar establishment, at which place a sultry server named Bathsheba was employed. It all makes sense now...the king of Israel was just hungry for hot wings when he inadvertently stepped into the dressing room of the local Teats (thank you, King James). Bathsheba was new, mistook the job description that told her she was supposed to give service, and the rest, as they say, is history.

Teats was the place for the deer-hunter, though, as Solomon so wisely pointed out when he told one of the servers:

Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins.

I could go on and on, but I think it's best I stop for now. Just make sure somebody remembers that I predict the rise of the Antichrist very soon, now that the Holy Land is hoe'ing it up BIG time.

Association of Former Pentecostals

2007-03-13T12:30:00.000-04:00

Once again, Jabel has put me on to a worthwhile resource. I've added a link to my Surfin' the Pond section to the website of the Association of Former Pentecostals. My family has had a connection to the Pentecostal Holiness Church, an independent group of pentecostal Christians, for many years. I have a few memories from my childhood of experiences in pentecostal churches, and a large portion of my life from my mid-teens to late twenties was spent involved not just in membership, but in leadership in various capacities with them. For a number of reasons I have completely severed myself from any and all personal linkage with pentecostalism. I do have a number of friends & family, though, who are currently or formerly involved with them, so discussion about the group is quite frequent. I'm well aware of the lasting effects Pentecostalism leaves on those who choose to depart, and the tenor of this website offering "support" is not an exaggeration-that's exactly what many need.

Hollywood's Hottest Blonde

2007-03-09T12:31:00.000-05:00

According to In Touch Weekly Christina Aguilera has been voted #1 on the Hollywood's Hottest Blondes list. I guess they haven't been reading my blog (shocker!) or else they would've realized that as the Hottest Woman On The Planet (HWOTP) she is number one regardless of her present choice of hair color. Now, since I'm sounding like a gossip mag I may as well continue the vein with a couple more comments about the bombshell blonde and say that apparantly her hair color is a reflection of her life-mood at the time. A while back when she sported black hair (hot!), evidently she was in a "sad" stage of her life. But, of course, all that changed when she met and wed her sweetheart (and all the girls say: "awwwww"), so she decided to lighten up her hair to reflect the lightening of her heavy heart.

Anyway, now that I've completely emasculated myself and joined the sissyish ranks of the gossip crew I'll sign off with an admission. My fascination with CA is strictly due to my man-ness...she's gorgeous!

Oh, by the way, in case you're wondering here's the top ten hot blondes list:

1. Christina Aguilera

2. Reese Witherspoon

3. Kate Hudson

4. Hayden Panettiere

5. Pamela Anderson

6. Gwyneth Paltrow

7. Scarlett Johansson

8. Paris Hilton

9. Heidi Klum

10.Gwen Stefani

The Thigh Of An Aroused Nymph

2007-03-05T10:18:00.000-05:00

Though not an attempt to author a provocative post not dissimilar to a harlequin romance, this section of my blog is indeed very sexual in nature. I read today Michael Pollan's article Into The Rose Garden and now am very aware that sexual imagery long preceded the advent of television, dvd's and skin mags. The flower pictured in this post is called Maiden's Blush, a sweet and innocent sounding name that conjures up images of a giggly 12 or 13 year old girl playfully skipping through the meadow, much like Laura Ingalls Wilder. The name, though, is much racier. Consider the French name, Cuisse de Nymphe Emue, which English translation I've chosen as the title of the post: "the thigh of an aroused nymph". Pollan, in his inimitable style, paints quite an arousing picture of the procuring, planting and cultivation of roses in general, referencing this particular alba on a few occasions. As I read through this piece I recalled how even Dan Brown pointed out the likeness of a rose to female anatomy in his wildly popular The Da Vinci Code. He was, of course, deep into describing "the sacred feminine" and therefore all too eager to point out anything that promoted looking at the fairer sex with a profound admiration, mixed with a slight blushing. As a self-described lover of the female form, appreciative of the most splendid artistic beauty the Creator has placed in front of us, I'm overjoyed (shall I even say enthralled?) by the description Pollan makes of a rose bed. This place now sounds arousing and lustful, if not a little mystical. Perhaps I'll have to focus more intently on the blossoming of the rose in the coming months, and allow the age-old fascination of feminine beauty to transport me beyond just the sights and smells of a flower.

Walt Disney

2007-03-02T10:10:00.000-05:00

My latest dive into the pool of highly recommended literature has landed me in the depths of Neil Gabler's Walt Disney: The Triumph Of The American Imagination. Some time back, before my much loved subscription ran out, I read an article in Forbes by the always interesting Rich Karlgaard in his Digital Rules segment, called "Seven Lessons Of Walt Disney". What stood out to me about his review was this pithy quote: "Walt Disney is the best business book I've read in years." Karlgaard is one of my fav's when it comes to biz advice columns, so if he says a biography about a cartoonist is the best there is concerning business books in recent years, then I couldn't be anything but all over it. I'm only about 10% of the way through, but already the reading is fireside-with-a-cup-of-java good, and is living up to the hype concerning practical business ideas. Sometimes the reminders of the old-fashioned, tried-and-true methods of an intense focus and solid work ethic, alongside a passion to succeed, serve to inspire me in a get-rich-quick fascinated society. The life of Walt Disney seems to project just these qualities, and I'm intrigued as well as motivated to continue putting my shoulder to the wheel in my attempt to accomplish my goals and fulfill my dreams.

I hadn't read anything by Gabler before that I recall, but his journalistic skills come highly lauded, and his abilities can probably be understood as almost magical seeing that he "is the first writer to gain complete access to the Disney archives". Seeing that Walt Disney died a shade over forty years ago, this seems a remarkable feat.

Perhaps this bit from the Amazon.com page will wet your whistle just a bit:

You Don't Know Disney: 10 Things That May Surprise You

1. He is not frozen. His body was cremated, and his ashes are interred at the Forest Lawn Cemetery in Glendale, California, near his studio.
2. Mickey Mouse's original name allegedly was Mortimer but Disney's wife Lillian objected because she thought it too "sissified."
3. Some of the names originally considered for the dwarfs in Snow White were: Deafy, Dirty, Awful, Blabby, Burpy, Gabby, Puffy, Stuffy, Nifty, Tubby, Biggo Ego, Flabby, Jaunty, Baldy, Lazy, Dizzy, Cranky and Chesty.
4. Walt Disney suffered a nervous breakdown in 1931 and descended into depression after the war, concentrating his attention on model trains rather than on motion pictures.
5. Fantasia was the result of a chance meeting between Walt Disney and symphony conductor Leopold Stokowski at Chasen's restaurant.
6. During World War II the Disney studio became a war factory with well over 90% of its production in the service of government training, education and propaganda films.
7. The studio stopped production for six months on Pinocchio because Walt felt the title character wasn't likable enough. During this time he devised the idea of introducing Jiminy Cricket as Pinocchio's conscience.
8. Walt Disney received more Academy Awards than any other individual--32.
9. Disney modeled Mickey Mouse on Charlie Chaplin and that Chaplin later assisted the Disneys by loaning them his financial books so they could determine what kind of proceeds they should be getting from their distributor on Snow White.
10. MGM head Louis B. Mayer once rejected the opportunity to distribute Mickey Mouse cartoons shortly after Walt had invented the character because Mayer said that pregnant women would be frightened by a giant mouse on screen.

After reading the book I think I may launch into a plan to watch all of the Disney films with a renewed sense of wonder, and a little more knowledge as to both where they came from, and the work involved in making them possible. Plus, with 2 kids it ought to be a blast just being with them through the magical journey...

*****UPDATE 5-9-07*****
I finished the book (finally!) tonight, and I must say it has been a thrilling and enlightening read. Walt Disney was an important icon while he was alive, and is no less a legend today better than 40 years after his death. From his humble beginnings and the years & years of struggles in getting his company off the ground, to the explosive growth that took place in his later years with the advent of television, the construction of Disneyland, and the massive land-grab in Florida for EPCOT & Disney World, this work chronicles every magical moment. I give it a 9.5/10.

The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History Of Four Meals

2007-02-27T10:43:00.000-05:00

Like a Sunday afternoon drive in late Spring with windows down, radio on, and absolutely no place to be. That's how I felt after finishing the remarkable book The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan, last night at 10:32 p.m. Here is an absolutely pleasant, entertaining read. That I would post about it wasn't even an issue, but now that the time has come I'm perplexed about what to say. My purpose is not to review the book, per se, for that's done admirably by a host of other more talented writers. As a matter of fact, it was a line by Pamela Kaufman, editor of Food & Wine Magazine, that proved to be the final motivator in getting me to get out and pick up a copy. Her spiel is the first under the heading "Editorial Reviews" at the book's Amazon.com page, and after deftly offering a bird's-eye-view of the book she makes this simple statement: "This may sound earnest, but Pollan isn't preachy...". Pollan's research, tactics & involvement with his subject matter and sources are earnest, intense even, but after wrapping up I would have to echo the sentiment of his ability to write without seeming "preachy". As a matter of fact, thinking back on the last two weeks of poring over the pages, I don't recall a single time feeling like he was even remotely telling me what to do with my food. No, he just masterfully has taught me to consider more deeply what exactly it is I'm eating, and where it comes from. As Jabel so wisely quoted in his review of the NYT article written by Pollan "Unhappy Meals", the author suggests that we "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants." Michael Pollan is a skilled researcher, a talented writer, & seems to be as humorous as he is erudite. I'm definitely adding his works to my "must read" category.

The Library In Leaves

2007-02-26T11:28:00.000-05:00

I read today Michael Pollan's article in the New York Times from 16 1/2 years ago entitled Autumn, It's No Garden Party. As the title suggests it is a treatise concerning the transformations of the Fall season, both of the natural state of plants and the work required to gather the current harvest and plan for the season to come a few months down the road. I found especially enlightening the following quote concerning the evolutionary flirting of plants with animals:

"Autumn color in the woods signals the abdication of chlorophyll; in the garden, among the annuals, it means something else. With their ripe, tinted fruits the plants aim to flag down passing animals, offering them food in exchange for giving their seeds a lift out of here. By late September the plants are concentrating all their energies on this process—on writing down their secrets on tiny seed tablets and then encouraging someone, anyone, to take them out into the world. Recipes, instruction manuals, last testaments: by making seeds the plant condenses itself, or at least everything it knows, into a form compact and durable enough to survive winter, a tightly sealed bottle of genetic memory dropped onto the ocean of the future."

I was also inspired by his illustration drawn from a historical study in describing how earth is not a closed system in which we are to be fearful of using up all its resources:

"The first person to verify that indeed this (natures incredible ROI) is a miracle was a 17th-century scientist by the name of Van Helmont. He planted a willow sapling in a container that held 200 pounds of soil and, for five years, gave it nothing but water. At the end of that time, the tree was found to weigh 169 pounds, and the soil 199 pounds, 14 ounces—from just two ounces of soil had come 169 pounds of tree. Rich increase, indeed."

Perhaps the best was saved for the proverbial last, though, when he quoted from Thoreau's Autumnal Tints concerning how the crunch of fallen leaves instructs us how to die gracefully, sweetly and with honor:

"How beautifully they go to their graves! how gently lay themselves down and turn to mould!...They teach us how to die. One wonders if the time will ever come when men, with their boasted faith in immortality, will lie down as gracefully and as ripe,—with such an Indian-summer serenity will shed their bodies, as they do their hair and nails."

Candyman

2007-02-26T10:46:00.000-05:00

The new Christina Aguilera video for Candyman is now available, and is as hot as all get-out. The above link is for the MTV site, while this one is for the youtube post and is larger but at a lower resolution. The throw-back sound she's created her most recent album in really shines in this tune, and the video matches up alarmingly well. Fire-alarmingly, that is, if that's even an allowable phrase. To say it's hot seems like such an understatement, but I'll not ramble, so just go watch it already. Then, if you're interested, check this out for a live performance of the song from this years NBA All-Star game halftime show. Finally, the lyrics can be found behind the damn in the next sentence. DAMN!

***UPDATE 3/1/07***
Click here for the Musicbox version of the video.

A Handful Of Seeds & A Bunch Of Impatiens

2007-02-22T09:56:00.000-05:00

Okay, I'm starting to get obsessed, I think. Michael Pollan is a terrific writer, and though few will pick up on the following statement, I'm gonna make it anyway. I'm thinking Pollan is to the man-earth connection what Boreham was to the man-God companionship. I'm still reading his The Omnivore's Dilemma and am just as fascinated as the hour I started, and I'm working my way through the articles on his website. Concerning these last pieces, here's a tidbit of the ones I've read, with a link to each in case you're in the mood for what you get from the snippit...

Gardening Means War
A hilarious account of the author's battle with critters who would destroy his garden. Here's a bit written after he tried to burn a woodchuck out of his hole nearby: "MY BRUSH WITH CONFLAGRATION among the vegetables shocked me out of my Vietnam approach to garden pests before I had a chance to defoliate the neighborhood. I also began to think that there might be more going on here than a cartoonish war between me and a woodchuck."

Why Mow? The Case Against Lawns
A pleasant read concerning all things yard. It'll be time to mow 'em before long, so maybe this one'll help us get through the season with a few laughs. Check out this quote about what happened when the neighborhood attempted to get the author's dad to mow a much-too-tall lawn: "My father's reply could not have been more eloquent. Without a word he strode out to the garage and cranked up the rusty old Toro for the first time since fall; it's a miracle the thing started. He pushed it out to the curb and then started back across the lawn to the house, but not in a straight line: he swerved right, then left, then right again. He had cut an ''S'' in the high grass. Then he made an ''M,'' and finally a ''P.'' These are his initials, and as soon as he finished writing them he wheeled the lawn mower back to the garage, never to start it up again."

Weeds Are Us
I really enjoyed this one, and mentioned it actually in a previous post. This article is a terrific picture of what happens when you let weeds get away. Here's an interesting quote: "If I seem to have wandered far afield of my topic, consider what weeding is: the process by which we make informed choices in nature, discriminate between good and bad, apply our intelligence and sweat to the earth. To weed is to apply culture to nature—which is why we say, when we are weeding, that we are cultivating the soil. Weeding, in this sense, is not a nuisance that follows from gardening, but its very essence."

Putting Down Roots
Read this if you feel like it should be Arbor Day every day, or if you just like hugging trees, or if you've ever considered venturing out to pick up a tree and plant one just for the hell of it. Witness the deep psychology involved with deciding where, exactly, to plant that next tree: "It's a sobering responsibility, picking the site for a big tree; get it wrong, plant it too close to the house or a power line, and you will someday force a terrible decision on someone. I spent half a day walking around the property, straining mentally to add something the size of a brownstone to the empty scene before me. I traced one 50-foot circle after another in the grass, trying to picture the eventual footprint of shade. Shadows you can see are elusive enough; to plan for shadows decades hence is to deal in the shadows of shadows."

The Dilbert Blog

2007-02-21T12:42:00.000-05:00

I probably owe this discovery to Jabel as well, though I really can't recall. Over on my Frogroll I've just added a link to The Dilbert Blog. Although I've had an average liking of the Dilbert cartoon strip, I've loved the blog from my first encounter with it just last August. Someone, again it was probably Jabel, sent me a link to a hilarious post about the author's familymoon and the trouble he ran into during the trip with his, er, stuff. It's a man's post, for sure, but even the gals may get a little enjoyment, if not a lot of explanation, out of the post. It's called Undergarment Dysfunction, and you can read it here.

Christina On Musicbox

2007-02-20T10:46:00.000-05:00

I found a great site that shows Christina's videos in a much higher resolution than the youtube postings. Click the pic of the adorable one above for the link.

Pollan's Link To Emerson

2007-02-20T09:33:00.000-05:00

As I've recently revealed I've been reading Michael Pollan's fascinating book The Omnivore's Dilemma. It is my first real experience of reading a contemporary writer on the subject of nature, as up to this point my focus has been on what I've come across in the Harvard Classics, therefore only up to the early 20th century. One of my favorite sources has been a few of the essays of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Specifically his essays on Nature and Land got me to think how pleasant it would be to have a well-cultivated piece of ground, replete with flowers, plants, trees and grasses of the rarest beauty and usefulness.

Last night I was reading some more of this thrilling book by Pollan when I came across the following Emerson quote: "You have just dined, and, however scrupulously the slaughter-house is concealed in the graceful distance of miles, there is complicity..." Pollan was talking, of course, about his dinner of chicken and how that most of us never look back to all that was involved in getting the bird to the table. The quote is from Emerson's essay entitled Fate, and was a poignant reminder of how important it is to consider from whence our meals come.

Okay, this is a bit of a jumbled-post, but I'm just ecstatic over the connection, albeit a small one, between Pollan & Emerson.

***UPDATE***
In reading through Pollan's articles on his website, I came across the following piece that further shows he's an avid reader of Emerson. Click here for a wonderful essay on weeds in which one very small, interesting bit of information concerns Tumbleweed, that icon of the west, and that it wasn't even introduced to America until 1870. He also suggests that when it comes to weeds, "to do nothing, is tantamount to letting (others) plant (our) gardens".

Michael Pollan

2007-02-17T20:27:00.000-05:00

I have added a new link to my "Surfin' The Pond?" section in the right hand column, a simple passageway to all things Michael Pollan. Pollan is a brilliant writer who covers a wide range of topics related to the human-earth connection, and also teaches journalism at UC-Berkeley. I have just recently discovered his body of work via a recommendation by my good friend Jabel, who posted to his blog on February 1 a little snippet about one of Pollans articles in the New York Times entitled Unhappy Meals. After reading the article I reserved and picked up a copy of his latest book, "The Omnivore's Dilemma". As of this post I'm nearly halfway through, and have already recommended it to several people because I'm fascinated beyond expectation. I'll reserve commenting on the actual book itself until I finish reading it, though I've already come across many quotable, practical, eye-opening and poetic lines that I'd love to commit to memory. The link I've created is to Pollan's website, and behind it is a series of articles and bits of information that I definitely intend to browse in the coming weeks & months. Jabel may inspire me to an agrarian focus after all...

Michael Crichton: Next

2007-02-15T11:37:00.000-05:00

I finished the latest novel by Michael Crichton yesterday (which I quoted in a previous post), and must say that I'm impressed. The book description is as follows:

"Is a loved one missing some body parts? Are blondes becoming extinct? Is everyone at your dinner table of the same species? Humans and chimpanzees differ in only 400 genes; is that why a chimp fetus resembles a human being? And should that worry us? There's a new genetic cure for drug addiction--is it worse than the disease?
We live in a time of momentous scientific leaps, a time when it's possible to sell our eggs and sperm online for thousands of dollars and to test our spouses for genetic maladies.
We live in a time when one fifth of all our genes are owned by someone else, and an unsuspecting person and his family can be pursued cross-country because they happen to have certain valuable genes within their chromosomes...
Devilishly clever, Next blends fact and fiction into a breathless tale of a new world where nothing is what it seems and a set of new possibilities can open at every turn.
Next challenges our sense of reality and notions of morality. Balancing the comic and the bizarre with the genuinely frightening and disturbing, Next shatters our assumptions and reveals shocking new choices where we least expect.
The future is closer than you think."

I read that the science here is "a lot less far-fetched than creating dinosaurs from DNA" (referring, of course, to his works in the Jurassic Park series), and if that is the case then this is certainly a troubling read, or at least I should say unnerving.

I've made it a point to read all of Crichton's books in order of release, so I am always on the look-out for the publication dates of his next thriller. I had to wait a few weeks for this one since a few people were ahead of me on the libraries list, but it was worth the wait. I still think Jurassic Park & The Lost World are my favs, but this one is certainly a deserving thief of the readers hours. Give it a part of your soul and see what you think...

My Fav Chappelle's Show Clip (Wayne Brady)

2007-02-15T10:01:00.000-05:00

Click the pic at left and watch the clip of the episode of Chappelle's show featuring a hilarious Wayne Brady skit. Wayne Brady is often ridiculed by fellow black folks as being too "white" b/c of his choice of television roles and his good standing in society, being accepted by whites more than any other black entertainer in America, it seems. Well, this skit is intended to silence the critics of Wayne Brady by showing he really does have street cred. When I watched this a few months ago I was in an uproar...ch-check it out, bitches!

Which Is Stranger: Truth Or Fiction?

2007-02-11T23:14:00.000-05:00

Interesting clip from Psychology News entitled Adults Don't Grow Up Anymore: British Researcher Blames Formal Education; Professors, Scientists "Strikingly Immature"...

"If you believe the adults around you are acting like children, you're probably right. In technical terms, it is called "psychological neotony", the persistance of childhood behavior into adulthood. And it's on the rise.

According to Dr. Bruce Charlton, evolutionary psychiatrist at Newcastle upon Tyne, human beings now take longer to reach mental maturity-and many never do at all.

Charlton believes this is an accidental by-product of formal education that lasts well into the twenties. 'Formal education requires a child-like stance of receptivity', which 'counteracts the attainment of psychological maturity' that would normally occur in the late teens or early twenties.

He notes that 'academics, teachers, scientists and many other professionals are often strikingly immature.' He calls them unpredictable, unbalanced in priorities, and tending to overreact.'

Earlier human societies, such as hunter-gatherers, were more stable and thus adulthood was attained in the teen years..."

Alright, this is not in fact, well, fact. It is a page from Micheal Crichton's fascinating new novel titled Next. Perhaps I'll post more on the book later (I picked it up yesterday and am halfway through as I take a break to publish this post), but when I read this I instantly thought of Lisa Nowak, the diapered astronaut who drove hundreds of miles to confront a rival for the love and affection of her man. I heard one brush-off this week that simply stated she need not be punished too harshly for what was obviously "a crime of passion", as if that makes it all justifiable. Hmmm, perhaps her legal team can call the intelligent Crichton as an expert and suggest she just hasn't grown up, therefore she need only be grounded...no pun intended.

My Fav Wonder Showzen Clip

2007-02-08T16:49:00.000-05:00

Be forewarned, if you can't take sacrilegious humor then this clip is not for you. Otherwise, it is quite funny... Just click the picture to view the short video from the hit MTV "muppets on crack" adult cartoon Wonder Showzen.

The Voice Within

2007-02-08T13:53:00.000-05:00

Christina Aguilera has successfully pulled off a myriad of incredible looks in her career, all of which are fascinating in their own right. I had forgotten about the raven hair she wore in her The Voice Within video. It's a very stripped down, voice and lyrics driven song that did well on the charts, and is one of her big hits. I remember being fascinated by the video itself a couple of years ago, especially the simple-sexy getup she donned for the production. I've been a sucker for a chick with a nose jewel for quite some time, and hers is clearly visible in the video (and the single-cover photo above). Beatiful song, terrific video, gorgeous girl...what more could we ask for? Lyrics here.

Gentlemen, Quarterly Is Not Enough...

2007-02-01T14:07:00.000-05:00

...time reserved to see Miss Aguilera...it needs to be daily.

QG ran Christina on the cover in June of last year and I ran across the article today. Behind the link is an area to read a well written piece, AND catch a slide show of the pics, AND even watch a short video of the photo shoot by Michael Thompson. Damn!

The cover shot above is quite classy and adorable, while the sultry shot to the right is downright sexy. Damn sexy, I must say.

I'm enthralled by the many shots available of xtina with those luscious red lips, and I noticed in this shoot she abandoned the bright red nails. Of course, it looks like she's abandoned nearly everything else, too...though I'm not complaining.

I guess I'm a sucker for girlie-girls, as I've mentioned before, but apparently this is a type of shoot she really enjoys doing. In the short video of the photo shoot there are a few lines of an interview she gave in which she comments about how a woman needs to be able to feel comfortable in her own skin, and to be able to show that sexy side of womanhood. I'm simply transfixed by the beauty of the female form as art, but I'm very picky, and am no longer interested in seeing skin for the sake of seeing skin (hell, I'm not 13 anymore!). The old-fashioned glam vibe Christina has going on right now is spectacular. Mwuahhh...