The house that Jack built

The King's Rain

2012-01-16T19:42:00.001-05:00

"It's time to grow up," He said.

Well, he didn't really say that. Those words didn't come out of his mouth, but you could tell that's what his defeated spirit was saying. He'd been at it for over a year. Fixing to hit his dreams with reality. A mixture that no alcoholic alive could possibly conjure, let alone consume. Some doubters say he was doomed from the start, but I believed in him. I saw the truth for what it is and not for what he was selling it to be.

"I've got a job back there. Well, they want to talk with me at least. Said it's for more than minimum wage, so I gotta at least look."

"When?"

"Leaving in 10 days. She'll be joining me there soon."

Oh yeah, her. I forgot about her and how she plays into this. He finally dropped the wall and let someone in. Weird. I thought that was one of the most indestructible pieces of work known to mankind, that wall he built. There was that one, and that's the reason why he was here. He allowed that one behind the curtain, but when he showed up, she left - and Miller Lite and I helped him back up. Well, we can't possibly take all the credit. I think the written word and tumblr helped a bit. And that's where her comes in.

He met her there. Like in nature, this seed started to sprout deep in some dark snarly part of the interwebs. tumblr to be exact. At least that's the story he told me, and brothers don't lie to each other, unless you lost their favorite jackknife. So I went with it as the truth. "Been talking since May," I remember him saying in the mildly cold truck that night coming back from Poseyville Party Store, "She's from California." Cahh-lee-foh-nee-ah. Yes Ah-nuld, that California.

"Fuck dude, it's December!" The words escaped my mouth like a prisoner from an insane asylum. He chuckled, "Heh, heh... I know, right?"

"Dad said I can come back and she can move in too. Until we find a place of our own. But we won't be long. Six, eight months.... Just gonna make some money to move back here."

"That's cool."

"Yeah, Dad's wife said she can probably get her a job there too, so... you know two can save so much more than one."

"Oh absolutely."

I don't quite remember where our conversation trailed from there... it probably encircled a number of different things from baseball to the random things that my kids do... It doesn't really matter now. Those are words that get easily erased, when I should etch them in stone.

The ten days has come and gone now, and his chair is cold. Well, colder than it was when his ass was fitted into it. He always said it was cold at the house in the Michigan winter. I always laughed at him. I'm not laughing now.

I miss that man. I miss my brother.

He chased his dreams for over a year and it looks like in the end, his dreams chased him back. I hope her shows up, and her helps him realize that in his chase he was able to find her, and her is what all his dreams truly are.

I'll be waiting for that email or text saying, "I'm coming home brother" and I'll head to Poseyville Party Store again to buy two cases of our cold friend, Miller Lite. I will toast your pretty chauffeur as she escorts you down the dirty gravel driveway of mine and I will greet her with a hug and you with a handshake, sir.

May that day come quickly...

the death of a teenage dream

2011-08-19T19:28:00.000-04:00

the long haired teenager
listens faithfully
to his music
and it brings to his mind,
thoughts full of grandeur.
of one day
being onstage and being
the opening act for his favorite band.
his ripped jeans
and combat boots
and t-shirts
are a mainstay to his wardrobe
and the guitar that he drags around
everywhere he goes
is in desperate need of a correct tuning
but
it still lays as the backdrop
for the lyrics and songs
he writes
somewhere in the hall
between 3rd and 4th hour.

It was then
During his Sophomore year
That the kids at his school
Began to
Mock ~~him~~
Tease ~~him~~
Kick ~~him~~
Punch ~~him~~
Put him down
Belittle his dreams
and the teachers didn’t stop the abuse
They turned their head
They turned a blind eye
They turned the channel
and ignored what they did
because, after all
“Kids will be Kids”

so he cut his hair
and he changed his clothes
and he changed his music
and he lost the boots
and he lost the torn, faded jeans
and he burned the t-shirts
and he conformed.

He is no longer alive
He is no longer there
He is now a part of them.
and they killed him,
they killed who he was.

Kids have a knack for killing what they don’t understand.

RMD

2011-06-20T18:43:00.001-04:00

I didn’t know him

personally, that is.

And yet it seemed we shared

a certain

kindred spirit,

of sorts.

Standing quietly by,

watching,

as the leader of the circus

brings the crowds in.

Throwing it all in the face of

what

seemed

right.

Only to emerge with pained laughter

and

bloody swollen bruises,

that heal with time.

He is gone now,

and things won’t be the same.

But his memory will keep me

smiling…

…waiting for time to heal this bloody bruise.

Thank you Ryan.

1+1=2

2011-06-09T19:15:00.004-04:00

The whole sum of our existence is this: that we, each of us, want to be loved and accepted. Mostly accepted because within acceptance is a certain degree of love.

Think about it. It happens all the time.

We change our own personal beliefs to fit the corporate beliefs of the church we attend.

We change our lifestyles when we take that initial step of marriage. We change it to fit with the person whom we've chosen to share the rest of our life. We change it to make them want to be around us more and more. More decidedly, we change it within each and every relationship that leads up to that point... the point where "i" becomes "us".

We buy goods and services to bring our friends closer to us. We change in that. Buying a beer or a drink for a friend in a bar brings our life to the point where we're different. We sacrifice our time to harvest theirs, and they sacrifice theirs to harvest ours. Changing who we are to keep them around.

As children, we starve and thirst, sometimes even ache for our parents approval. We seek ways in which to please them, to garner their love. The acceptance in a "Good Job" uttered after an unassisted double play, or a "Well done" when greeted after a school-age dramatic performance; that seemingly simple phrase represents the whole of our sweat and toil. It's why we put out our best when coloring inside the lines, or brushing our teeth or even doing the daily chores. If we don't get that elementary positive influence, then we tend to grow into a life of over-achieving.

Even within our churches, the place where we typically learn the least about God, we're taught to gain God through our actions. Following the Ten Commandments, teaching a Sunday School class, hosting a Bible Study, witnessing... wearing the right Christian t-shirts.... all of those actions are what brings God closer to us, right? It's through our actions that God bestows His Love and Acceptance upon us, correct? Isn't that what is taught in our western culture based church?

Look at our likes and dislikes... How many of you 'like' certain movies because your friends like them? Or certain songs, music and artists? Wouldn't hate groups like the Ku Klux Klan or the Aryan Nation be befuddled in their recruiting if we all just gave up on what is told to us to hate, and embraced who and what we really genuinely love what we love, and hate what we hate... not because someone told us, but because that's the full realization of what WE love and hate.

A-F, Hollister, American Eagle, even Joe Boxer... All clothing lines that we purchase, not because they are the top of the line gear in terms of long lasting, most durable... but we buy these items because we want our friends and possibly a "special person" to like us, to approve of us... The same goes for our hairstyles, eating habits and even the kinds of coffee we consume.

As one movie character says, "...the things we consume end up consuming us..."

And for what? Do we strive to spend money, or are we earnestly seeking acceptance, love and/or approval? Yes Virginia, we are a selfish species for what we desperately crave and search for is that which we cannot give ourselves... the approval, acceptance and love of others.

So, the sum of our existence is as I said in the beginning of this piece... to be loved, appreciated, accepted, and approved of by those with who we respect and love.

I hope you see it now.

Spank my label and call me Mable

2011-05-16T19:39:00.003-04:00

Bi-Polar Disorder
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
Personality Disorder
Attention Deficit Disorder
Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

These are just a few of the labels we throw on our children now. They grow up, looking to become something, anything.... And yet within a few years, if our kid does not behave or become someone/something that we've envisioned them to be, we quickly slap a label on them.

Oh, don't get me wrong, it doesn't stop there. We also try to modify their behavior by throwing handfuls and handfuls of pills down their throat.

Ritalin
Lithium
Prozac
Xanax
Haldol
Welbutrin
Paxil
Zoloft
Ativan
Adderrall

Society has changed to the point where they rely too much on doctors who are "practicing medicine" to raise our children through the use of anti-psychotic, anti-depressive drugs.

Back in my day, we didn't get labeled with those names...
We got labeled with names like:
Spoiled Brat
Spaz
Hyper
Retarded

And usually those names fit. They fit because that's how we acted. And no one treated us with drugs to try and set us "right" as was deemed in someone else's eyes. They knew a 6 year old little boy should be rambunctious. They knew that little girls are sometimes catty. They knew sometimes little kids fight, and sometimes some kids were just plain stupid (retarded). If we didn't behave with respect when we were supposed to, we got spanked and taught how we were to act, in regards to each individual situation.

But then some dumbass doctor decided to write a paper and pronounce that spankings were detrimental to the health and well being of the development of children. Really? Did he really just say that?

So now we've had to create all sorts of "labels" for our children in order to treat them instead of disciplining them. Our discipline is now chemically based.

And look where it's gotten us today as a society and culture....

Proverbs 13.24
The one who spares his rod of discipline hates his child, but the one who loves his child is diligent in disciplining him.

Now don't get me wrong, discipline is COMPLETELY different from abuse. But that subject is for another day...

Happy Birthday Sir

2011-04-11T20:16:00.002-04:00

When I received the phone call

I didn't think twice

I loved the game

I lived the game

I breathed the game

Then came time to meet this ragamuffin group

those boys who had big hopes and

big dreams

Of the

What a gang it was.

From "Nuts"

to "Salad Shooter"

I think we had every genre covered.

Smokin' Joe tried his best to bring

something from nothing

until

he handed the reins over to me.

Who was I?

A skinny newlywed

with a baby on the way,

due pretty much any day.

What did I know?

I honestly didn't know much.

But I saw a few bright sparkles

amongst a crowd of boys

some, who didn't care one bit,

whether they were there or not.

One of those areas of sunshine

was a fine lad.

Wasn't blessed with the physique

of that of a future hall of famer.

Heck, he'd be hard pressed to

make it to Varsity level

with that set of shoulders he was sporting.

But where he lacked in

physical stature

he made up for plenty

in the brains department.

This kid knew more about the game

than the head coach.

His work ethic was superb.

His knowledge was outstanding.

I chose him to be most improved

even though, I considered myself most improved

because he improved me.

The years marched on... the baby on it's way

turned into four... But

...that friendship, that relationship that was birthed

on the dirt infield of the Junior Varsity Baseball field

of Bullock Creek High School... well, it was something different.

He still calls me 'Coach' occasionally, not as often as he used to...

...but that's ok. That's fine with me.

Because I'm no longer his coach...

We're brothers.

Never once in a million years did I ever think

that that scrappy second baseman, the one who really truly

wanted to play third, would ever teach me so much about life.

I'm just so glad that he has,

that he is and

that he will continue to.

Dennis, sir, I love you.

I thank you for the man that you are to me.

I can only hope to someday repay you for all that you've done.

geezus addiction

2011-04-03T10:27:00.004-04:00

Trying to convince someone to come to Christ by sharing about of God's wrath is like trying to convince a smoker to quit smoking because he'll die from smoking related causes.

It just doesn't work.

Not long term anyways.

I'm going to go ahead and put this disclaimer out: I'm not a smoker, so I have no idea what a nicotine addict goes through.

324

2011-03-20T10:00:00.003-04:00

Since When...
did it become wrong to have your own opinion?
Since When...
did it become wrong to voice that opinion?
Since When...
did we lose the ability to think for ourselves?
Since When...
did the 'unions' of our lives begin to live for us?

It seems the topic of the day anymore is unions. The NFL Players Union, whoops I mean Players Association (we can't call them a 'union' anymore since they voted to de-certify, even though they continue to act as though they are a union) is the big news. No one knows when or if Football will be played again on a Professional level. And guess what their number one sticking point is?

Money.

A few years ago it seems that there was a few other business' that needed some help from the government because they couldn't keep themselves afloat, financially speaking. These business' rely heavily on it's workers who are unionized and cry for more and more of what the NFLPA is crying for.

Money.

They say that Rome wasn't built in a day, but we do know that it was destroyed from within, by the Romans themselves. A slow agonizing death. As mighty as that civilization was, the source of it's cancer can be traced back down to one evil. Greed. Ravaging inflation and overtaxing of it's people led to a government obese with bureaucracy and with that came the eventual decline and decay of the roman civilization. And what were they greedy for?

Money.

If you ask me, our once proud country is headed, nay, we are running full strength towards the same plight that the Romans had experienced. And in my opinion the unions of today (most notably the teacher's unions) will be the catalyst of the slow destruction of the United States of America. I know I'm probably the minority voice (save for a couple of outspoken governors) but the prophets usually were the lone voice in the desert.

This blog will eventually post on my Facebook account, and I'm sure to get a huge amount of push back from the uneducated union aficionados who continue to argue and claim that the stereotypes are not true (oh no, there's no one making $45/hr sleeping on a couch in a breakroom in Detroit - That's never happened). I'm sure I'll have my fair share of teacher friends, who are ardent union supporters and not necessarily education enthusiasts, yell and scream and claim that I have no legitimate standard by which to measure a teacher's failure/success rate.

I know there'll be certain individuals who will read this and think to themselves, "He's only saying those things because he doesn't know what the union is like." And that's where you'd be wrong my friend.

You see I am a member of the local union 324. I know exactly what I am talking about.

sideways glances and second chances

2011-03-13T14:54:00.003-04:00

I was driving down the road this afternoon with my best friend, when we passed by a seemingly abandoned house with detached garage.

Mr. Observant pointed out something that caused me to think.

He said, "You know that place, while now abandoned, was once loved and used by someone."

He went on to say, "In a lot of ways, it's like our lives. How many people are loved, used, had worth and value placed within them... only to be lost along the way."

"Cobwebs now fill the hallways and doorframes where once stood families and friends. In that, how often have people stepped out of our lives, or vice versa, in so much as to have caused another life, or house, to be considered 'abandoned'."

So it got me to thinking...

As we progress through life, we find ourselves making new acquaintances and new friends, but how often do we walk out of our old friend's lives and cause them to be like these abandoned houses?

What happens to us when we "drive by" someone and see that they are broken down, becoming in disrepair, starting to look like an empty old shack? What does that do to our guts inside? Do you take a second glance back as you pass?

Is your daily walk filled with sideways glances or second chances?

donmilleris a lot of things to a lot of people

2011-03-07T17:34:00.003-05:00

The way he told me his story led me no where except to a closer journey with Jesus. Now my story is a story of a million miles in a thousand years too...

DonMilleris a lot of things to a lot of people, but to me he's something special.

What story are you telling? from Rhetorik Creative on Vimeo.

Get the book at Amazon here

Eternal Death

2011-03-05T17:01:00.006-05:00

Eternal death...

how can that be?

Isn't death just plain death?

I mean, I always thought death was like water, or being wet.

You jump into a lake, you get wet. You don't continue getting wetter, you just remain in that state of being wet. Once you're wet, you're wet until you dry.

Just like that, once you experience death, don't you remain in that state of being dead? How do you continue getting dead? Once you're dead, you're dead until you rise again. Right?

These thoughts are in regards to the magazine Christianity Today's statement of faith (signed by all of it's editors) "At the end of the age … the righteous shall enter into the full possession of eternal bliss in the presence of God, and the wicked shall be condemned to eternal death."

I'd think that a bunch of educated Christian people who are supposed to know a thing or two about the Bible, should know something about death.

Now if they were trying to say "death eternal" meaning death with no chance for rebirth, then they should have stated that. But to say eternal death... well that just implies a death that is a continually happening event, and I don't see that as being able to happen. I mean, either you're dead, or you aren't. There's just not much more to this process of crossing over from life to death.

walk down the staircase and find the unlocked room

2011-03-01T19:29:00.005-05:00

My mind twists and turns
as my thoughts
wind circles around
deeper and deeper.

I find myself searching and wondering
what staircases lie ahead
and where they'll lead me.

Will I open a door that leads me into
a room,
a room with a lock and
no
way
out?

Or will the areas that I'm
unlocking
be places that I go
to keep the wolves from howling?

Have I discovered a newfound way
to escape, or is it
the beginning
of the path
towards insanity?

I can hear them talking
to me,
with me,
and
about me... with each breath I breathe.

I'm sure this may sound funny to you who live in the here and now
but maybe
I've found the way to get to there and later.

I just hope the stairway doesn't close,
for fear of what I may lose of myself
if it does.

But this isn't a nonsensical bit of diatribe,
rather,
a carefully thought out piece of prose.
Even though,
you cannot make heads or tails of what I'm saying.
I'm probably
the only one who knows.

It's too much to not sit here now
and craft and create
when I hear the deep low growl
grabbing my soul
as I breathe deep.
Hearing the crows in the distance
and the drumbeat in my head,
praying...
praying that when the time stops....
silence.

Looking within, feeling it
building... it's swell reaching a fever pitch.
my blood.
Artistic coverings bring forth the muse
and cause my eyes to roll back into the back of my head...
my neck, twisting under the weight of the burden
that no one should carry. Can I? Will I be able to withstand it's weight?
as the strings are being plucked and strummed, life is gained and lost
all in the same chord structure. Will it's magick be brought along?

Feel the wrath of those who do not know... those that cannot care...
feel it in my bones, scraping my soul from the marrow that exudes
the very lifebreath that creates my innermost... alone. without friend.

The jackals circle now.
the fight in me almost gone and they sense it.
I can't go home. It's too late for that now. It's too much of a task to complete.

What will i be ushered into next? When will I walk that next staircase?

And still the drum beats on...

we all, like sheep, have gone astray

2011-02-20T13:11:00.007-05:00

like mindless
cattle,
they slowly gather
in line
to eat
and
to drink...
of Him.

following a ritual
that
was
never
meant
to
be
a
ritual

"...do this in remembrance of me..."

where
is the intimacy
if,
by remembering Him,
you
do the same thing
as when
standing in line
at a fast food
restaurant?

throwing stones

2011-02-13T12:39:00.003-05:00

I get so aggravated with "today's Christians" who claim to follow Christ, but when you boil it down, they don't know who He is.

Slap a christian bumper sticker on the back of your car... carry your Bible around... wear your "Sunday best" to church... put on your cliche christian t-shirt when you go to church events or are around your "church friends", and most of all, be sure to change the way you act when you're around them too!

Really?

REALLY?

Do you even know what Christ came to us for?

Open your Bible... Read about Him a little...

He didn't come to add more "rules," He was sent to better define the ones already laid out. And yet you STILL don't get it...

Who did Christ spend His time on earth mingling with?

How many of His followers were "church friends?"

Using His own words, IN THREE DIFFERENT GOSPELS, who did He say He came to find?
Matthew 9, Mark 2, and Luke 5

What did Christ most care about?

HOW CAN YOU CLAIM TO KNOW HIM IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE ANSWERS TO THESE QUESTIONS?

How can you show Christ to those around you if everyone you surround yourself with "knows" who He is?

I guess what I'm saying can be summarize in this...

if you don't prioritize what Christ prioritized,
if you don't stand up for and stand up against what He stood for and against,
if you don't really care about what Christ cared about,
then you've truly missed the point.

Think long and hard about that the next time you decide to judge someone because they do something that your particular denomination may believe to be wrong... take a look and see where your denomination stands when it comes to what Christ cared most about...

...and then you can start throwing stones at me.

This was an OLD post that wasn't published, until now...

2011-02-08T18:53:00.003-05:00

I've been somewhat emotional recently, and I wonder if it isn't because of the weather.

You see, I've been self-diagnosed as suffering from seasonal depression, but it may be more than just this ongoing winter that is really bringing me down.

And I don't exactly know why either.

Here are some of the positives that I'm experiencing:

1. My best friend lives with us. He thinks he's mooching, but really we're mooching off his humor and wisdom. All of my friends love him and he just fits right in on the other end of the island.
2. All of my bills are paid. Well, all of them that were behind at least.
3. The Groundhog says Spring is coming early.
4. I'm a new volunteer coach for the Track and Field team at BCHS and track season is quickly approaching.
5. Television re-runs SHOULD be over for a little while before they make the big push towards May sweeps and the season finales.
6. My eye prescription got better meaning that my eyes are healing themselves.

December 15, 1791

2011-02-08T04:56:00.003-05:00

What is the world coming to? Are you freakin' serious? If it isn't enough to try to take every last bit of dignity in my body, some people want to try to take my ability to have any feelings too? I'm so tired of people thinking that they are the only ones with feelings. That they are the only ones in the world who has ever been done wrong in their life. You know what, everybody in this world is gonna get hurt every once in awhile and it's not a crime to let your feelings show. It's a crime to slander someone's name, but it's not a crime to SPEAK THE TRUTH! It's called Freedom of Speech....

Amendment I

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

Therefore, with that said...I'm gonna continue to express my FREEDOM OF SPEECH and if you don't like what I have to say...deal with it..................Stay off of my page if you don't want to read what I have to say. Tell your "grapevine" to leave you alone as well when it regards me and my words...I have absolutely no reason to lie about what I have went through in my life and if I feel like sitting on MY COMPUTER IN MY HOME and WRITE MY FEELINGS....there's no crime in that. I shouldn't have to make my page private on account of hurting someone's feelings because you know what? No one cared or cares if you hurt mine, so why should I?

Don't talk to me about hypocrisy sir, not until you look at yourself firmly in the mirror.

For JMH

2011-02-05T22:47:00.002-05:00

For JMH, wherever the hell you are...

You've lied to me.
You treated my loyalty with disdain.
You spit in my face when I stood by you.
Alone.
You've disrespected me
and
our friendship.

But no more...

I'll have none of the backstabbing.
None of the two faced talk.
You weren't a friend then,
you aren't a friend now.

That smile, covering only half your face,
the half that never looks me in my eye,
is just a part of your game.

You think you know all
the right words to say.
You think you know all
of the right moves to make.
Your lies are so thick,
you gain nothing.
Your game still fresh in my mind...
But I ain't playing.

Fool everyone else
with your sanctimonious attitude...
you won't fool me anymore.
Your actions prove who you really are.
Your words fall on deaf ears.

If your lie-filled lifestyle is what a "Christian" is, then I hope to burn in hell.
I want nothing to do with your christ...

Furthermore... don't give me the "You don't understand" line...
I understand plenty. I know what you've tried to accomplish.

Your kind does not last long in the real world.

You've got plenty of "friends"
but in truth, you're alone.
And you ache inside.
I pity you.
I pity your life.
I pity your existence.

You have no family any longer.

And all you had to do was tell the truth.
Be a man.
Take responsibility.

But you wanted the easy way out.
You'll find the easy way
will
cost
you
everything.

And I'll be smiling when you one day realize this.

Goodbye you small spineless little boy.

For Chad

2011-02-05T20:32:00.005-05:00

Too young.
Too much promise.
A young one inside,
almost held to the promised date,
before being pulled to safety.

Before today there was,
Excitement.
Anticipation.
Nervous Joy... now all
crushed under the wheels of an accident.

A family mourns.
A newborn babe is without her mother.
And a man is left behind.
Dreams shattered in an instance

A life given for a life taken.

But their hope reigns.
Hope.
For her, and hope for her future.

He'll stand tall.
He'll walk on.
Though his shoulders a little lower from the burden he bears.
Tears will be shed.
Hearts will be heavy.

But they have hope in Him.
And their hope lives on.

012511 The Challenge

2011-01-24T21:17:00.004-05:00

There comes a time in a man's life when his words and actions need to line up with each other.

Now is that time.

I hereby challenge all men, and I'm not talking to the little boys pretending to be men... I'm talking to the legitimate, stand when you pee-change your own oil-make a tree fort for your sons, men.

I'm talking to the men who aren't afraid to treat a lady like a lady, and to the ones who tell a little girl who's thinks she's a woman, that it is time to put her big girl panties on and act like a lady should, if they want to be treated like a lady.

I'm talking to the men who don't change who they are when they are around certain people, but respect those other people's views and show disciplined control and restraint.

Let's make sure we stand tall...
Let's make sure that we've grown a pair and that they hang low...
and let's make sure we carry this country on our shoulders with pride...
...pride enough to make our sons and daughters look up to us as everyday heroes.

Let's restore glory and honor to our once great country.
Let's restore the respect that was once held for our elders and authority.
Let's make a difference and not sit around and wait for some other generation to do it.

No more single mothers.
No more lost children.
No more.

The challenge has been placed before you.

What are YOU going to do with it?

010711 UofM, Dave Brandon and Rich Rodriguez

2011-01-07T17:43:00.002-05:00

I just don't get it.

Seriously, I don't. Why are people so up in arms over this?

They screamed for Rich Rodriguez to be fired, and now they bitch about the way he was fired. C'mon people... make up your mind.

I, for one, did not want to see him let go.

I thought he needed to make some serious overhauls on the defensive side, but he should have at least had the opportunity to see his first recruiting class as seniors and then let his record speak for itself.

I also thought that Dave Brandon handled the situation perfectly, giving Rich the opportunity to leave on his own, and giving him a night to think about the best decision to make for himself and his family. What people do not realize is that if Rich had left on his own, resigning as head football coach, the University of Michigan saves the $2.5 million they had to "buy out" the rest of his 5-year contract. Instead, he chose to let Mr. Brandon fire him, and took the money. Something that really shouldn't surprise me. From the start, he's been about the money.

Apparently though, that isn't good enough for Michigan's fickle fans. I guess they needed an immediate firing, and anything less isn't acceptable. So why are people calling for Brandon's head when all he did was try to look out for the University of Michigan?

In the end, Rodriguez's pride kept him from acknowledging he may have gotten in over his head, and left casual observers with the impression of arrogance and ineptitude. His lack of leadership kept him from admitting that his defensive program needed an extreme overhaul after last season.

010311 fantasy

2011-01-03T15:10:00.003-05:00

The gangly looking boy
stared dreamily into space...
his chin resting in the open palm
of his dirty hand.

His gaze transcended time and space
as it held in place by the grace of her face
and the soft angles
of her young frame.

Through his coke bottle thick glasses
he dreams of one day
when she'll be his,
and they'll be one.

But until then
she's with another.
The varsity quarterback
or the popular hunk of the week.
And in the hallways she pass him
as just another geek.

the lost found

2010-12-28T18:49:00.003-05:00

Finding what wasn't lost
always seems to fill a hole
that we never knew existed.

he said, she said

2010-12-28T18:45:00.004-05:00

He cried out,
"Why?"

But the answer never came.

So now he searches...
he digs through his pain.

She screamed to him,
"Run!"

But he wouldn't hear her.

So now she's left wondering...
'what might have been'.

She said no

2010-12-28T18:31:00.003-05:00

my cheeks burn red with embarrassment

she said no.

how i wish i were not here
how i wish i did not ask
how i wish i did not know
how i wish
how i wish
how i wish

How
Dare
She...
Look at me with that look...
Smell like a sun-filled day...
Taste like rich chardonnay...
Sound like a child's deep belly giggle...
Feel the way she does...

Doesn't she see my heart?
or is it still black with the lies
that painted my life previous?

Doesn't she smell my sweat?
as i work so hard to prove my love
with actions causing me to perspire.

Doesn't she taste my kiss?
even though our lips haven't touched
each other the way lovers do.

Doesn't she hear my cry?
or do the wails of a broken spirit
fall softly on deaf ears?

Doesn't she feel my touch?
as i reach out
to hold her,
to protect her,
to support her,
to encourage her,
to love her...

This death is like
one thousand horses
trampling my soul
in their wild stampede...
tearing, not caring
for which part they grind into the dust...

She said no...

...not with her lips to my ears,
but with her actions to my heart...

back on your feet

2010-12-28T17:47:00.003-05:00

falling down
is the easiest thing to do.
but
getting back up,
is
the hardest.

funny how
the easy way
always proceeds
the hardest.

i've been the one who
has fallen,
and fallen hard.

i've rid myself of all things
as though i were
a reptile
shedding it's skin.

and yet the hardest part
of the falling,
continues to be
the getting up.

because in order to get back up
you have to
empty your hands-
empty yourself-
empty
in order to push, pull or drag
yourself back to your feet.

knowing the role

2010-12-28T17:35:00.002-05:00

If i knew then
what i know now,
i would change
a few things.

because i'd know
i'm not "Joey" from Friends
or even "Chandler" for that matter.

I'll never be that rock star
that i envisioned myself
being. Nor will i set any
sports related records,
no matter how hard i try.

becoming the "next biggest thing"
to hit the town,
wouldn't be a dream
that I would try to keep
in focus... rather, i'd look
around and wrap my arms
tightly, around each and every
moment...
cherishing...
relishing...
and valuing
what i've been given.

Because i won't be that
awesome lead guitarist,
and my air drum set
is
quietly
collecting dust
as it sits in the corner...
unplayed...
uncared for...
unworthy of my dreams.

instead, all that remains
are a few good memories
of my hitting the sticks together
on accident,
or was it on purpose?
my former roommate
will
never
know.

who i am

2010-12-28T17:02:00.004-05:00

I may seem
larger than life
but really
i'm just a scared little boy
wondering
what to do
how to do it
and when.

You see
when people see me
they think that
i'm something different
than what i know
i really am.

I don't have all the answers
in fact,
i don't have any
answers to any
questions for any
one to think
anything
of me
at
all.

Does patience breed humility?
because...
I am impatient.
I am arrogant.
I am anything
but what you want your
children to become.

i am a scared little child.
worried about tomorrow
and so frightened when
thinking of
today.

fish on

2010-12-18T17:31:00.004-05:00

the streams of life
flow
and empty into
the bowl

mixing,
churning,
and
diluting

taking the truth
and disposing of it
in due time.

holidays

2010-12-18T17:06:00.004-05:00

the cookies
the candies
the music
Decorations

the spirit
the friends
the family
Snow

the wrapping
the gifts
the cards
Festivities

overall an uplifting time of the year
a time that most people look forward to
when surrounded by complete busyness
and non-stop chaos of merriment

Wishing you the best of these times during the rest of these times.

the gme

2010-12-18T16:23:00.002-05:00

The song plays it's colorful tune
The dancers spin, carelessly on the floor
The boys stand along the wall
The girls stare at them all
It's the same story everywhere you go.

from the beginning of time
'til the last school bell's ring
this is the way it's always been
it seems that you can't change a thing

The teachers watch with patience
The chaperones watch in silence
The music man plays his wares
The savior seems not to care
But the game still rages on.

feeling as though immortal
feelings that seem not to die
like the breath in the lungs of the young
the days not yet numbered

The bold enter the arena
The savior came through
The few brave break ranks and join
The rest follow in and run.

days

2010-12-18T15:59:00.005-05:00

crushed beneath the cursed weight
of the frozen rain
are the hopes
and dreams
of long summer days.

days forgotten in the
blistering heat
and
energy sapping
humidity.

patience for a recurrence
of those days
runs thin
during times like these
when you can visually see
your breath with
each
and
every
exhale.

so I'll snuggle in deep
wrapped loosely
in the arms
of a
down filled comforter
keeping the dreams alive,
the ones covered
in icy fingers,
until the days of warmth
come around...

on Politics

2010-12-11T23:30:00.002-05:00

I have come to the conclusion
that this country
is not divided
between
Democrats and Republicans,
or the
Liberals and Conservatives,

but between those
who seek the truth to form their opinions,
and those who form their opinions and then seek what they need to support it.

- Mike Quinn, October 13, 2010

importance of views

2010-12-11T20:07:00.003-05:00

What's important to me
may not be important to you.
And what's important to you,
may not be important to me.

So what belongs in the bigger picture?
My view? Your view?
Whose view is the less skewed?
Can that view be misconstrued
as the new tool of cool?

Break it apart.
Break them down.

Build up the bigger picture into things that dreams are made of.

\ə-ˈdik-shən

2010-12-11T19:54:00.002-05:00

It's funny;
our addictions,
the way they sneak up on you.

Stealthily,
almost silently...
waiting until our attention
is somewhere else.

Which begs the question,
that seems to never be asked...
if we had tried to become addicted
to the things that we are addicted to,
would we really be addicted,
or just doing what we choose to do?

Tears of Job

2010-12-10T23:19:00.002-05:00

it started with
a question...

"So what is going on? I'm dying to know."

and it brought about the response,

"Come get me"....

It led into the fun-filled fiasco's
that
only 2 friends can have.

And,

I
never
want it
to
end.

But I know it will...
and the tears flood my eyes.

Maybe I'm over-emotional because
I've been
drinking...

Maybe not.

One thing I know for certain...

No matter how much I want this to never end,
soon enough,
it will.

Thank you for MY Christmas miracle sir.

second guessing myself

2010-12-05T12:42:00.002-05:00

When i think back
and ponder
the times that
i've been hurt
or have hurt others,
i re-live these moments
in crystal clarity
and not
in the shades of gray,
that most of my other
memories
exist in.

i don't dream of remembering
these situations as a
means
to
an
end,
but perhaps,
perhaps i should.

Maybe i need to stay inside
of my mind
until i heal from these issues
and can better
myself.

Perhaps
i'm tired
of repeating
my mistakes
and causing
so
much
pain
in my life
and
in the lives
of others...
...those loved by me
as
well
as
those whom
have placed a distance between us
because i am
deemed a toxic person.

Maybe i need to follow
Some ONE's example a little closer.
Possibly change
a few of my beliefs
because
what i am
is not
who
i should be...
...but what should i be then?

Should i be me,
or be the me
that others
want to see
me come to be?

Is my focus steady
on what will better myself
and those around me?

Does my faith define me
or
do i define my faith

through

my

beliefs?

Is holiness
truly
attainable
through
the "right" choices
or
can i ever really reach that?

Do i become like
the Jewish nation,
like
the Pharisees,
making
rule
after
rule,
in order to come
to a place
of Holiness?

Can one become distracted
from their journey
by those
who are
trying too hard to lead others
in a journey?
and
what can be done
to look past
the distraction?

All this
i cannot seem to fathom
any longer
without causing those,
whom i want to impress,
to
second guess,
the nature of my distress
without beginning
to undress
the state of
my duress
i must confess.

a looksee

2010-12-03T23:59:00.001-05:00

What does the world see

when they see me?

Do they see the failure

that I know I am to be?

Do they see the father

to the boy plus three?

Do they see what I see,

a man not worth a pee.

When I look at me

what I see is not

the me I want to be.

But a simple man

who tries to be

more complex than

he should be.

So what do you see

when the mirror

turns on thee?

Deep down

2010-11-27T21:37:00.002-05:00

Deep down
I want to dance like
the King of Pop,
Michael Jackson.

Anyone who can make
the Godfather of Soul,
James Brown,
jealous of his moves
has got my vote.

Deep down
I want to write songs like
Foo Fighter lead singer,
Dave Grohl.

His songs are so
gut-wrenchingly true,
I can relate with what
he's sharing.

Deep down
I want to be a friend
like the world's best friend,
Dennis Dubay II.

I can only hope,
one day,
to be.

the casino of the ages

2010-11-27T21:07:00.003-05:00

Another year passes by
and the memories continue to pile in
like the shuffling of a new deck of
casino playing cards.

I'm left trying to store them
in folders
stuck in my mind...
Happiness, Humor, Comedy...
Heartache, Love, Grief...
how do I arrange these
so that I hit
20-One
Blackjack
every time?

A lifetime of thoughts,
dreams,
desires...
things that I'm always looking forward to
but once I get there
I gravitate towards the next
new thing.
Never satisfied.

When will it end? Why did it ever begin?
Who started the music playing
this foreign melody
in my restless heart?
Am I the dj that cannot control my own mixing table?

The roll of the dice
now
controls
the present,
and not the future
as we're taught.
The choices that those ivories make for us
are in
the
here
and
now...
and not tomorrow...

let it go man, just let it go...

2010-11-27T16:56:00.001-05:00

There are people who can walk away from you.

And hear me when I tell you this! When people can walk away from you, let them walk.

I don’t want you to try to talk another person into staying with you, loving you, calling you, caring about you, coming to see you, staying attached to you. I mean hang up the phone.

The single hardest thing I deal with in my life is letting go of loved ones within relationships, people have hung on too long within relationships and it takes a toll on you emotionally and physically. You need someone that pushes you forward someone that make you a better person. Someone who makes you SMILE someone on your level, not someone you have to change, replace or chase!!!

When people can walk away from you let them walk.

Your destiny is never tied to anybody that left.

People leave you because they are not joined to you. And if they are not joined to you, you can’t make them stay.

Let THEM go.

And it doesn’t mean that they are a bad person it just means that their part in the story is over.

And you’ve got to know when people’s part in your story is over so that you don’t keep trying to raise the dead. You’ve got to know when it’s dead.

You’ve got to know when it’s over. I’ve got the gift of good-bye.

It’s not that I’m hateful, it’s that I’m faithful.. And if it takes too much sweat I don’t need it. Stop begging people to stay.

Let THEM go!!

If you are holding on to something that doesn’t belong to you and was never
intended for your life, then you need to……

LET IT GO!!!

If you are holding on to past hurts and pains …..

LET IT GO!!!

If someone can’t treat you right, love you back, and see your worth…..

LET IT GO!!!

If someone has angered you ……..

LET IT GO!!!

If you are holding on to some thoughts of evil and revenge……

LET IT GO!!!

If you are involved in a wrong relationship or addiction……

LET IT GO!!!

If you are holding on to a job that no longer meets your needs or talents

LET IT GO!!!

If you have a bad attitude…….

LET IT GO!!!

If you keep judging others to make yourself feel better……

LET IT GO!!!

If you are struggling with the healing of a broken relationship…….

LET IT GO!!!

If you keep trying to help someone who won’t even try to help themselves……

LET IT GO!!!

If you’re feeling depressed and stressed ………

LET IT GO!!!

hope

2010-11-27T16:55:00.000-05:00

Here’s a quote from the movie, Shawshank Redemption, “Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane.”

I thought about the theme of hope. At the end of the movie, Red is off to Mexico so see Andy, and he closes the film with this quote:

“I find I’m so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it is the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend, and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope.”

There’s another quote from Andy in that movie, “Hope is a good thing, maybe the best thing, and no good thing ever dies.”

I hope that hope is something that doesn’t always disappoint, but that sometimes hope gives us a season to believe. I hope that hope doesn’t drive me insane like it could have driven Red insane. I hope I have the patience to make hope work for me like it did for Andy.

muted

2010-11-20T22:53:00.004-05:00

For Bear.

The coffee just doesn't taste as sharp without you,
the bacon is not as crisp.
The colors in my eyes are bland...
The food isn't as sweet,
as filling, or
as good...
as it was when you were in my life.

The autumn breeze doesn't cool me
and the sun doesn't shine and highlight
the leave's brilliant colors
like it did before...

Hearing the birds sing their songs
in the springtime,
doesn't lift my soul
anymore, now that you're gone.

The snow doesn't crunch under my boots
when I walk through a winter's afternoon
now.

It's more of a silent suffocation that I suffer through
in shades of grey,
or subtle blackness.
Sounds are muted or turned down in my life
and I cannot push through this.

You cannot fathom the joy you brought to my world
but now...
I cannot fathom the depth to which I'll sink,
as you walk,
slowly
away.

Freedom found in discipline?

2010-11-19T22:39:00.004-05:00

Is freedom found in discipline?

Is it truly found in that place, or is that an easy response for a robot to reply with?

If, in the act of discipline, you "find freedom" are you searching for freedom or are you only recognizing your limitations within said mindset.

Here's how I see the "freedom found in discipline" line of thinking...

Imagine you are an elephant.
A wild elephant. C'mon, who hasn't done that?

Anyways, you are a wild elephant and you've been caught. Up until this point, you've had freedom to roam throughout the countryside and eat from these grasses and those grasses... You've been able to poop in this field and drink from that stream or that lake. Nothing has encumbered you thus far in your life.

After you've been caught and put up the fight for your life, you've been chained by a thick and heavy chain to a post, by one leg. You can circle the post, but you cannot leave that circle. A month goes by... two months... six months... a year... two years and then your captor places a new chain on your leg. This one isn't as heavy, but it is still just as strong. Another couple years go by, and still you circle this post. This time, the captor changes your chain with something even lighter, but it's still on the same leg, and it's still attached to the post.

You've grown accustomed to your circle. This is all you've known within the last several years. The chain is now no longer a chain, but a small thin rope, still attached to your leg, but you don't fight it. You don't pull at the rope because you are convinced you still have the strong chain on your leg. Your circle, your "discipline" is all you know, and yet with one strong simple tug, you could pull that post out of the ground or break that rope. And yet, the reality of repetition brings about the illusion of safety. You have found "freedom" within your circle, based on your newly learned discipline, as taught to you by your captor.

So tell me... have you really found freedom within discipline? Or are you just draped in the wretched robes of the illusion of safety? How can you compare the freedom you had before the chains of discipline to the freedom found inside the chains of discipline?

Please call it what it is. Don't try and fool those who are searching for true freedom into thinking they can find it within a simple length of chain.

Ending of what was Once.

2010-11-19T22:12:00.004-05:00

The world is changing

I can feel it when I walk alone, outside
in the air
the feel of the earth's breath
stale
stagnant...
as if it were in the final stages of a hard fought bout with cancer.

The long deep sigh,
the exhale of a life lived
can almost be physically felt
as each day
rises and falls
between the sun's daily appearance.

No longer do the tall majestic timbers
reach ever upward
to the pure blue sky.
But rather,
their gnarled limbs
ache
as they grow in pain
towards a vast opening of
man-made clouds.

The green grass is brown,
dying,
dead...
and without the rich black soil it once grew in.
We've raped
what was once a land
full
of bountiful supply.

Fresh water. Clean air. Pure soil.

The garden of Eden
she once was,
but now we take what we want.
We pillage, steal and plunder.

The world is changing, but not to protect herself.
She has long since given up.
We courted her in the early beginning,
replacing what we borrowed.
But now she borrows time.
Time from the bank of the future,
which has been second and triple mortgaged already.

This will not continue for long.
She is a piece and a place that will surrender
eventually,
to her captor...
and then
as her spirit is broken,
she quietly breathes in her last.

We are the cause that has destroyed a once beautiful home.

We are the cancer

moral of the story

2010-11-16T17:28:00.002-05:00

She screamed silently at the salesclerk.

"JUST GIVE ME THE SALES PRICE!"

but the clerk heard her not.

Instead, he looked up and saw her patient smile.

And he gave her the discount.

The moral of this story is:

...to be learned on your own. I'm not your momma.

Holidays and Love

2010-11-16T17:19:00.002-05:00

Holidays are fun for a while.
And then the score starts to get settled.
The relatives get antsy
and the alcohol
makes mountains
out of
molehills.

ButIdon'tthinkthatthisishowthingsweretobeoriginally.

I often wonder if we
just worked together
for the purpose of
making memories,
good,
wholesome,
endearing memories,
if we couldn't erase the hate,
and assure the future
with one statement.

Love Wins.

Growing old.

2010-11-16T17:09:00.003-05:00

Countless days dwindle by
like the breaths that pass
in
and
out
of my lungs...

No one counts them as an adult
they are only precious to the child
who looks eagerly to the next
holiday,
vacation,
break from school,
birthday,
or summer adventure
that takes them
off into the future.

No one told us this,
as we wasted away those tender years.
No one told us that we'd
someday wish
we could
have those summers and winters back.

No one told us.

So I'm left wondering...

Do I burst the bubble today's youth lives in?
And snap them into our reality... prematurely.

Or help them escape it while they can?

introspective

2010-11-11T17:09:00.002-05:00

The mirror reflects
the grainy edge
of
reality
that we often hope to overlook.

Ignoring our past
we struggle to accept the future,
it's hopes,
it's dreams
but most of all
it's sufferings.

But what if we enveloped reality with hope?

Would we then tend to bring about
our own
pain to offset
a bright future?

When do Veteran's have their day?

2010-11-11T16:54:00.003-05:00

To think of the sacrifices that have been made
by the boys and girls of our great land,
I hesitate to label one day
as a placeholder for me to give them thanks.

We, from time to time, lower a flag
to honor the dead
or freshly fallen
in a foreign field far off.

But do we teach our children
the depth of what it means
to sign your life
as a blank check
to a government filled with agendas.

When the elementary recite and repeat
the Pledge of Allegiance
every school-day morning,
should we take a moment
at that time
to speak of our loved ones
and their sacrifice?

Perhaps we have no conscious
when it comes to snuggling
under the blanket of our freedom,
the very freedom provided by the
lives given or the lives taken,
by the sacrificial cost of liberty.

Strive to make every day count.
Make every day you wake,
worthy
of the lives that were shed
for
your
day.

The Tray-boo-shay

2010-11-10T17:06:00.006-05:00

A creation.
Wood. Steel.
Heavy... too heavy for a single man.
Machined by a man, though some say
he's more than a man.

Parts and pieces...
Weights and cranks...
Pulleys, neatly disguised
as a simple mechanism.
Painted black or
it's host steel look.

It looks innocent,
but the trebuchet
can gut you
quicker
than a columbian drug lord.

Flinging
frozen
spheres of orange.
Halloween's best
screaming through the air...
200, 300, 400 feet at a time.
Crank the pulley, drop more weight,
500 and 600 feet finally accomplished.

Thank you for a grand,
day-before-Halloween
Punkin Chuckin'!

Taco Dip in Canze

2010-11-10T16:47:00.003-05:00

For Mary.

The deliciousness of the dip
was foretold by the many.
But it's true beauty
could not compare,
anywhere.

You spoke highly of it,
though words could not
completely take in
what delights
were
in store for my taste buds.

Once I calmly slid that native american made
broken tortilla piece
into it's creamy paste,
and gently bit down on the crunchy, covered goodness
on that cool autumn afternoon...

I.
Was.
Hooked.

I even tried convincing you to steal the rest of
the spread,
for us to share.
Two greedy fools,
shoving our mouths
full
of quite possibly, the best creation
know to man.

But you didn't.
Your heart is too full of goodness.
You palate had obviously
tasted this concoction before
and your heart knew...
it knew to share this culinary delight
with as many as you could.

So, to this I offer you
a simple grouping of words.
A small sample of prose.
A thank you from my taste buds
for sharing this
the
ultimate reward,
a creation
from God Himself.
The Virgin Mary introduced us to Jesus
and now the Canze Mary introduced me to another heavenly being.
Taco Dip.

Thank you Mary.

Language Lessons

2010-11-07T09:39:00.005-05:00

I've thought long and hard about the statements that churches make in regards to trying to spur on worshipers to get involved within their church...

"Plug in"

"Get connected"

I've just got a few responses to those statements/phrases....

Really!?!
C'mon man!

Someone who is new to a church setting isn't going to just jump right in and "Get Connected" because your sign tells them to do it... nor will anyone who is searching for the Truth be so ready to "Plug in" to anything that you may have set up for them to plug into.

How about dropping the church lingo and talking to people like they are actual human beings for a change. Look at what you are saying and think about who you are talking to for a change.

Lost people don't speak "christianese".

some mess i created somewhere...

2010-11-07T08:49:00.002-05:00

I sat down this morning, intending to spell out an epic blog. The house was quiet, the small dogs were warming my feet.

Kids and spouse still soaking in the extra hour of sleep, grateful for DST, I thought it would be the best environment for some creative thoughts. But as it is, I could not write. This past week I've had a million thoughts careening through my mind. None of which I could wrestle down onto the keyboard.

That is one of my fears of writing a book. On one hand I'm afraid that I won't have enough thoughts, quirky quips, anecdotes, sayings and otherwise nonsense to put into book form. On the other hand, I fear that I have too much of the aforementioned crap to try and organize.

Perhaps I should focus on a non-fiction writing piece. Something that I can't get screwed up.

I also wonder if I'll ever finish it.

As I sit here at my "desk", I look to the left and to the right and I see no less than 67 unfinished projects. Ok, maybe not 67, but to even have one would be too many. I see a cluttered breakfast table that I promised my wife that I'd unclutter a short two weeks ago. UNFINISHED. I see an xBox 360 that has flashed the RROD (red rings of death) not once, but twice now. After the second time, I vowed that I would fix it. THAT project started last Sunday. So, I'm only a week behind on that one. I just need a T8 torx screwdriver and then I can finish taking it apart, correct the mistake that was made in the first attempt to fix it, and put it back together, thereby regaining my title as the best dad in the world (a title currently held by my friend Ken Shauger).

I see a cluttered kitchen, in which , if I hadn't sat down to write this, I could have completed to a state of cleanliness and in the process, joyously surprised my wife when she got up.

But no, I didn't do that. Instead I put on my headphones, started jamming out to Living Colour's Vivid album, and then reclined to spew this nonsensical rambling of consciousness.

To my right is a pile of cd/dvds that need to be gone through, labled, ripped, or thrown away. Everywhere around me is clutter.

See why I'm scared to start writing? I think it would get lost in some mess I've created somewhere.

the breaking point

2010-09-20T17:19:00.002-04:00

The hypocrisies of the hypocrites,
named by themselves,
does not excuse it's presence.

The imperfections of the imperfect,
named by themselves,
does not excuse it's presence.

Striving past those known idosyncrasies
is what we're all called to do.
Naming yourself one thing,
that everyone already knows,
doesn't make it copacetic amongst
those who ARE digging for excellence
within themselves.

For they are not lulled to sleep or
into a state of narcosis
by simply hanging a title,
a stereotype,
over their person.

circle of circles

2010-09-20T17:14:00.002-04:00

in the middle of the
center of the
whole thing...

...I wait.

For I cannot begin to unwind
the tapestry that hangs around
it all.

Walking around,
stalking the prey,
greeting another pursuit
with the disdain of simplicity.

or is it boredom with routine?

encouragement. Where do you hide?

NSP

2010-08-30T16:31:00.003-04:00

For Mary.

it's dark in the night
asleep, but not quite
stumbling,
fumbling around
your innards feel tight

Is this a dream?
Or am I awake?
I'm starting to question,
"How much more can my bowels take?"

throw back the covers
including the sheet
forget about the others
i stand to my feet

My eyes still closed tight.
My hands by my side.
I'm walking around,
There's nowhere to hide.

i'm climbing some steps
i hear the wind blow
i start to drop trou,
it's now time to go!

The pain is no more,
Left a big pile of steam.
Walk back through the door,
My bowels relieved.

woke up the next morn,
and to my dismay,
i found chunks with corn,
along the whole way.

I found out a fact
I want to adamantly deny.
I'm a Nighttime Sleeping Pooper,
No matter how hard I try.

so if you see me out wandering
in the middle of the night.
i'd advise against following,
you might step in my shite.

On Love...

2010-08-08T22:34:00.000-04:00

I used to pass by an old folk’s home on my way to work. No, this is not your ordinary place that our elderly are shuffled off to in order to receive care that we can’t or don’t seem to find the time to provide to them. This is a top of the line home with genuine care. How do I know this? I know because I used to deliver food and drink to the kitchen, and boy, were they picky. I interacted with some of the staff and volunteers there during my delivery times and saw firsthand the standard in which they operated on a daily basis.

From time to time, on nice days mostly, when I drive by, I’ll see an old gentleman pushing a bedridden woman. I presume she is his wife. If she is not, then she is someone for whom he loves deeply. Occasionally you’ll see him stop bend down and speak to her, her face expressionless as she appears trapped within this prison of her body. He gently strokes her face and touches her skin. I have seen him place sunglasses on her upward fixed eyes so as to help block out the sun from blinding her.

He is an old man. He is old enough to be cared for himself, yet he is out there, helping her to break free from the bondage she exists in. She cannot move. She cannot enjoy the warmth of the sunshine or the feel the soft gentle breeze on her skin without the aid of someone else. That someone else is Love.

Love.

It’s the same thing as my grandfather who resolved in his mind when my grandmother was seemingly still a mere child, that she would be the one for him for life. It has given him the same resolve to hide her away from his children and grandchildren to protect her during these days of confusion that she has. Love. He doesn’t want to share her during her “bad days” because he knows what good she has brought to the family. It’s his love for her and her reputation that stalls him from seeking medical advice, knowing there is no cure for what she is suffering through. It’s his love for her that causes him during these days to keep her to him and to answer again and again the same question.

Love.

It’s the same thing as the boy and girl who knew it was time and that there is no sense in waiting. They were excited about each other and the thought of starting a new life together. Simple, not elegant. Raw, not orchestrated. Complete, not pieced together. Theirs is a marriage that will last, much like my grandparents. Two souls united together because apart, they cannot exist.

So you see Virginia, fairy tales do come true.

Being ready, willing and able to die for that person is portion of it. Sacrificing everything, your life, your family, your friends, your job, your very existence. If someone isn’t in it for you, then they aren’t in it at all. Love knows no wrongs.

Someone once described Love to me as ‘putting someone elses needs, wants and desires in front of your own’. I don’t quite know if I completely agree with that in its entirety. I know that without Love in your life, you cannot breathe. Without Love in your life you cannot feel. Without Love in your life, life is meaningless. I guess that is why many older couples when one dies, soon thereafter their mate passes too. They’ve lost the joy, the fulfillment, the light in their life and they die of a broken heart.

You see, I think people from a few generations back, knew what Love is. They didn’t have to fake it. They didn’t have to place a mask on. They didn’t have to discipline themselves to deal with the choice they made. They knew the importance in the choice before even making it. In generations since, we have had a vast decline in seeing the importance of Love before marriage, instead of making Love happen due to the constraints of marriage. But secular society doesn’t see it that way. They see marriage as a regular contract that can become void if either of the two parties is not happy. They don't see marriage as what it is, a covenant. Something that says, "I'll do whatever it is that I have to do to hold up my end of the bargain." Not, "If I'm not getting what I want, then I'm outta here."

Now, you get a few examples of Love, whereas before the majority of marriages were built upon Love.

Love.

Maybe we should ask Jane and Ben and Tracy and Dan and Avis and Roland and Christine and Troy and Sarah and Dan and Kim and Dale and those other couples who know Love, live for Love, die to themselves for Love and embrace Love with their whole being, what this is all about?

Or maybe we should look to the cross.

Maybe we need to hold those pastors accountable for uniting the individuals who do not know Love and pull them from their pulpit and make them use a soapbox to preach their liturgy.

Maybe instead of uniting a couple in a church using a grand ceremony, maybe it needs to be done in more of a secretive fashion. Maybe those pastors who do unite two into one ought to continue counseling throughout the first 5 years of marriage. That would cut down on their ratio of marriages. That would make a man of the cloth responsible for his actions and not give him the ability of Pontius Pilate, to be able to wash their hands, leaving the rest up to God. That would make the couple know for sure that they are ready, ready to face the lions together for the rest of eternity. Then, we would know what Love is. Then we would know how Love is. Then we would know where Love is. But most of all, then we would know who Love is.

potting soil

2010-07-18T10:26:00.002-04:00

Buried beneath what was once
innocence,
but now is coats and layers of
jaded hostility,
lies the soul of one who cannot
see the wholesome goodness
of humanity.

(whether he realizes it or not)

His heart is bigger than his stomach
which is usually smaller than his eyes
when it comes to bacon and fries
and pulled pork sammies...

But he doesn't see that
or feel it's steady beat inside...
instead,
he listens to the ghosts of the past,
the whispers of a childhood lost
to younger sibs and gas station hot dogs.
Responsible for more than his share
but he knew lives depended on his
choices.
And his sacrifices were what
went unnoticed to everyone...
but me.

Oh how I wish...
How I wish
just one
of his dreams would come
true.
Whether it be a Dimebag resurrection or
love walking back through his door...
I can only do what I can do...
and that is love him with all that I am.

My brother, we shall walk through the
second half of this show called life
together.
Like railroad tracks,
I'll be your other rail,
running forever,
side by side,
with no end in sight.

Always looking for that next great video on
YouTube while listening to Art and George preach
Coast-to-Coast...

His heart will stop one day, but it won't really...
His innocence will be regained one day,
whether the jaded finish convinces him of it or not.
The light inside his smile can't be covered in
Joker black forever.

I'll dig through that potting soil
and find the seed of the boy
that was planted
by a man who was made to
grow too fast.
And we'll replant it to see
what comes up this time around.

the aged

2010-07-18T10:05:00.003-04:00

My eyes are weary.
The lids, heavy and full of sleep.
The day is beginning and no one is
awake to share it with me...
yet.

The headphones I placed on my ears hold tight the sound of loud guitars and rhythmic percussion
in a desperate attempt to wake up and shove the impending slumber out of each of my pores.
To no avail.

I think that my body is
slowly but surely
breaking down, as described
within the 3rd rule of
thermodynamics...
Atrophy.

I've accepted that I cannot do the things that I used to be able to do... I can no longer run with the wind or fish til my heart's content. My life is full of responsibilities, bills, debt and youth is no
longer my friend.

When I speak, I
hope
I command respect
from those around me.
I hope they see the
importance in my words,
even though my mouth is
usually full of them
anyways.

For Ann, Dana, Joe, Lynn, Melissa, and Tara

2010-06-21T21:14:00.003-04:00

I dealt with anxiety/emotional issues directly related to my stroke for the first month, month and a half after May 12, 2008. It was so bad that at times I couldn't walk alone to the bathroom from my bedroom without almost shaking uncontrollably.

Fear gripped me so tightly.
Paranoia set in quickly.
It was hard to breathe,
hard to think,
hard to exist outside
of
that
moment.

I pushed my way through it, never once seeking medical help or psychological help.
I made myself stand tall and walk slow to the toilet (even though sometimes I really had to go). Eventually, my fears were conquered and I was able to master the anxiety.

That was the summer of 2008.
I had three main goals...
Regain movement of my fingers in my left hand,
find a job,
and fix my emotional issues.
I nailed all three by the fall of 2008.

Fast forward to last Saturday, June 19, 2010.

I had a nice day planned, three open houses of students I had grown relationships with and I was looking forward to spending some time with each of them. I got up in the morning and just like I normally do, I sat at my computer to scan over the various communications I had gotten since the night before.

And then it hit me. An icy hand reached in and took hold of me that warm summer morning.

That paralyzing fear seized my body again and I couldn't move.
The stroke related anxiety/emotions were raging at an all time high.
I turned on some music, because music calms the savage beast (right?), and then started playing 'Hearts' on my computer.

And for the next 7 hours, that's all I could do.

I cried.

I breathed.

I almost made everyone miss the open houses that we were going to.

But something deep down said, "Get up."

So I thought of one of the graduates and I started writing.
I wrote a poem describing what I saw over the past year of his life.

And I also thought of my good friends that I'd be seeing at the end of the day.
My good friends, Ann, Dana, Joe, Lynn, Melissa, and most of all Tara.

Those friends helped motivate me to move.
Like Switchfoot says from their The Beautiful Letdown smash hit, "Dare you to Move"

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened before

I pushed myself to get moving.

We eventually made all three open houses, one was closing down as we showed up, but the cards were handed out and grad cake was eaten. But what really made me move were the thoughts of my friends.

You guys helped save my life a couple times now.

I owe you big.

So as I continue to work through these issues (I dealt with another attack this morning), know that whatever small role you think you may play in someone's life, it is quite often a way bigger role than you could possibly imagine.

And I for one, thank you for it.

stolen

2010-06-14T20:05:00.006-04:00

I watched the wind stiffly blow the early summer leaves
bending the branches with it's might,
as the old man's tears fell from his weary and worn eyes
to his cheeks in cascading streams of salty wetness.

They were reminiscing about times past
when she was still there,
and still among their presence.
Now she's gone but yet she hasn't left.

She is still a part of his life.
He mourns her.
He misses her.
She does not know him any longer though,
nor does she remember who she is.
This wretched disease stealthily and steadily robbing her of identity

Her language is failing,
her health, ebbing away also as the tides of her life slowly fade.
Yet she keeps walking the halls, continually striding,
pursuing that endless goal that exists only in her mind.

His bony hands cover the wrinkles on his face
embarrassed at his leaking eyes.
His heart is so full of tears,
they push themselves out from behind his glasses
committing a wet suicide on his dry cheeks.

A laugh breaks up the tense war of emotion;
the room's dimness lightens with semi-real joy.
A memory stabs in the heart
the pain of days once lived.

The damned disease eats away at individual
and is the thief in the night that no alarm can
protect from. No weapon can prosper. No
strongman can save. It is our purpose to hold
dear to us those collective thoughts and
memories, in places that cannot be infiltrated.
Time is this disease's weapon. It helps to erase
joy and crush harmonies.

But he stands,
bent over
by the weight that he alone carries.
Buried under the
burden that he's
bound himself to.
Breaking occasionally,
but billowed by thoughts of
before, he carries on.
Beautifully, as he
bravely tries to remain her
boyhood hero.

I cannot wait to see the freedom that will be brought to them soon.

clown

2010-06-13T22:56:00.003-04:00

Making the clown laugh
was all I ever wanted.

With his painted on smile
and his oversized shoes,
I seized the opportunity
to create cracks in his facade.

The tears of a clown are the easily found objects,
readily available to anyone who
can light fire to a library, or
silence the innocents innocence.

But the laughter...
the smiles...
genuine and true...
from deep within the bowels of the ribbons and balloons.
Those are the dreams of unicorns and rainbows
that every child seeks when drifting away
into the sandy beaches of nighttime.

So bring upon him your comedy,
your showmanship,
your tasteful humor. Add to it;
the spices of green meadows
and sunny shorelines. The fickle
winds of spring and fall,
wrapped together
in a whirlwind of newly budding and
freshly dying leaves in blazed colors
of autumn and spring.

The desire of true laughter
of deep
from the clown
is the wish-upon-a-star moment,
that we all hope for.

heart

2010-06-13T22:26:00.004-04:00

I can't believe in the error of my ways
They are the things often lost in the midst of my victory.
A stepping-stone of sorts;
along the blazed path of failures.

Clearly, the brightness of my future
is forever linked to the darkness of my past.
Joined together like the siamese twin freak show
found along a countryside county fair,
their existence is based solely upon their
symbiotic relationship, cell merged to cell.

As I once again, rise
the shadows release their terrible grip
on
the dawning of this new day, and
begin planning their next
secret
assault.

Turning my back on the results,
my lust for victory
outweighs the
shame of
what once was.

and can it be?

2010-06-13T22:23:00.000-04:00

reflections

broken by the ripples of time

but

continually shaping the past

from

the present.

hardly what was once believed to be the truth

we scarcely fathom the deep instances of denial

brought to us by the unloved children of tomorrow

as they quietly step towards the black oblivion of the night.

craning our necks to be able to see where we once were

to where we want to be;

it is an obtuse illusion of death and life still reaching for progress...

or is it?

The english that spills forth from lips curled up in rebellion

is the english that breaks us free from standards that the

authority bring to it's beings, a selfish slave.

raining down, the reign reaches down to smother the other brother while

killing the machine's breath of simplicity.

the answer to the question

2010-06-13T15:46:00.005-04:00

When asked a question and an answer is given,
when do you ask it again?

Why do you ask it again?

If you know the answer to the question in the first place,
why would you ask the question?

Why am I gnik elohssa now because you didn't like the answer
after you already agreed to it?

Where's my Dad of the Year medal to back up my decision and
credentials?

If you don't like my answer then I suggest you cease asking scary questions.

And don't question my authority.

fear and liamkcalb

2010-06-13T15:30:00.003-04:00

When dealing in the business of
fear
or
blackmail,

you must first decide,
"How far do I want to take this?"
and
"Am I prepared to go all in myself?"

Because Blackmail
is a big person's game.

You must be assured that you've
covered all your bases,
and all of your tracks,
if you're trying to make another person look
worse than you already do.

Unless you're a
yzarc
ohcysp,
"suineg"
in which case...

You never really know what reality is.

I won't be made to fear you;
for you
have
no
credibility...
whatsoever.

Time to find some new line of business
because the fear business doesn't suit you,
and neither does the role of the victim,
anymore.

tsuM eb emit ot worg pu.
uoY dna ruoy gnikcuf sttipmuhw.

From A to V

2010-06-12T09:01:00.014-04:00

I never claimed to be a hero, or the hero of the day
in fact,
I distinctly remember
often
sharing how dark
and black
I am
inside.

I never wanted to be your hero
(you're SO old, SO ugly, SO fucked in the head and yesterday's trash)
in fact,
I doubt anyone could be.
You change who you are
at
the
whim
of your
mind.
And yet you continued to pursue me.

Like some sort of backwards moth
you fluttered around
warming yourself
to my cold
dark
heart.
Falling in a way that I should have seen,
and yet
I was mesmerized by the worship.
And yet you continued to pursue me.

I had nowhere to go,
nowhere to run -
stifled
by the constant chokehold of a crooked genius
and a master manipulator,
for this was not your first game
I was not your first victim.
And yet you continued to pursue me.

I saw the tears, read the stories
heard the cries for help.
But when did you really need help?
WHEN?
were you truly the victim?
DID?
the assaults really occur?
WAS?
Samwise really a part of your life?
HOW?
much is delusion and how much is reality?
And yet you continued to pursue me.

You twisted the truth
when
you felt
the
time was ripe.
You destroyed friendships.
You served as
referee
in your game called
crushing the innocents.
And yet you continued to pursue me.

I told you
You are strong.
But now, I see the truth.
YouAreTheWeakestIndividual-I-HaveEverBeenCursedToKnow
because it is only the weak
that continue to pull
the
victim card...
time and time again.
And yet you continued to pursue me.

Your best bet is to stand up
stop lying
stop smiling
accept who you are
and
Deal
With
It.
Quit using others
for your own selfish gain
and
STOP
CRUSHING
INNOCENTS/INNOCENCE.

You have no idea what I may do when backed into a corner.
I suffered away as an injured puppy before
taking the blame for actions that were not
mine.

But no more will I sit in silence
and idly stand by
and watch
as I am
and those closest to me
are destroyed.

No more.

You are not the victim any longer.
It's time for me to turn the letter I wore upside down
And go
from

i'm so selfish, i'm undeserving of 'mybestfriend'

2010-06-05T04:17:00.005-04:00

(i wrote this in June and for reasons unknown to me, i failed to post it)

I am selfish.

I also live in a world of somewhat self-induced illusion.

I live my life, with an ongoing narration of self-devaluation, running constantly in the background.

My latest debacle has got me up at 4am, when in fact, I'll be driving myself, my wife, and my parents about 150 miles, one direction to watch my son compete in the state track and field finals in 4 hours time.

me. They rely on me.

They rely on me and yet somehow for some reason, that voice woke me up in this darkness and said, "You aren't worth it."

But the voice
wasn't telling
me that about
my driving skills,
or my ability
to find destinations
or places
that I've never
been before.

You see because I'll be driving the following day to a city I've never been
in a state I've rarely been in, to a home to return a friend... 'mybestfriend.'

about a thousand miles. and i'm gonna try and do it in less than 14 hours.

A few months ago, 'mybestfriend' asked me to come get him, to bring him back home to a place where his friends gather and much is eaten, and much is drank. I heartily agreed and demanded that he not even consider lodging any where else but with me and mine. In the ensuing months, he replied that he had arranged a way to get up here, and now he just needed a ride back to his place where he currently resides.

Again, I agreed. I made arrangements for him to stay, providing a camper, so that he may have his own 'fortress of solitude' while here.

{enter the ongoing unheard dialog within my head}

I spoke with my four sons of 'mybestfriend'.
I spoke of him in mythical proportions.
I praised up 'mybestfriend' because he was, because he is, and because he can be.
The four young ones eagerly lapped it up and 'mybestfriend' quickly became legend.

'mybestfriend' did not disappoint.

Once he rolled into town, and I picked him up, the kinship I had longed for, was there. We spent time together, even though it was late and the ride was long, he still propped his eyes open to listen to my drivel as I showed off my shabby, disorganized life and lifestyle. He was polite and receiving and made me feel special, even though I feared he would see right through me and laugh in my face, calling me a fakir, a buffoon, a snake-oil salesmen at best.

He met the rest, in person, the next day and even made me weep with his written word, the words that I hang onto so deeply. I did my best to rearrange my work schedule to reel in more time with 'mybestfriend'...

but that little voice still whispered
"You're not worthy."

There it is.
the whisper.
the voice.

I know I am not rich.
I don't have money to
just throw around.
I can hardly provide
a decent living for my
family.

So once again
my heart,
my mind,
my soul...
i
am
crushed.

So, maybe I should just suck it up,
face reality and
listen to the voice when it says to me,

"you're not worthy"

and just accept that.

Judgment

2010-03-31T17:16:00.001-04:00

As I sit here eating a sleeve of Town House crackers in an attempt to kick to the curb the hunger pangs of the afternoon, my thoughts turn back to a conversation I had earlier this week with a friend. She was recently liberated from a lifetime of bondage to a particular religious system. Having been in and out of abusive relationships, she was sticking with this one, even though I tried opening her eyes to the Truth.

It wasn’t until I suggested that she read a couple of books by two of my favorite authors, Donald Miller’s, Blue like Jazz and Rob Bell’s, Velvet Elvis, that she was finally able to grasp hold of what I was saying. She mentioned to me that she was done with people who constantly doubted her spirituality and her belief in Christ. I congratulated her and thought about it deeper.

No one can doubt anyone’s spirituality. A person’s level of spirituality is determined by their relationship with God. Now, I can’t physically see God, nor can I physically view any interactions anyone else has with God. Quite typically I have an ongoing conversation with God all day long… But I don’t speak out loud to Him, nor do I fall flat on my face in reverence to Him. That would be foolish. However, I imagine that there are those people who would judge or doubt my spirituality.

I don’t take my hat off during prayer. Neither do I close my eyes or bow my head. To me, that is rubbish. To me that is religious. Now people can judge my level of religiosity based on my actions, my religious actions. I swear a lot. I drink beer/alcohol. I smoke cigars. I overeat. I like Brisk Iced Tea with Lemonade flavor (that’s probably not something viewed as a “bad” thing, but while I’m emptying my closet I may as well share that too). All these things are strikes against me in the scheme of how religious I am.

Quite honestly, I don’t care.

Too many “christians” are giving people who are true Believers, like myself a bad name. Those “christians” are the ones who don’t get it… That it’s not about religion, but about spirituality that God is concerned about. He is more impressed with a few Believers who are spiritual and have embraced the ministry of His Son Jesus, than of millions of those who are religious and are trying to do what they think is righteous.

Boy will they be surprised in the end.

I guess what I’m saying is that people can judge your religiosity, but not your spirituality. Your “actions” that show how precious God is in your life don’t cut the mustard. That’s why Jesus had such a fight against the Pharisees of His day. They were more concerned with shaming people with their sin to the point of overwhelming them. They wanted everyone to see how religious they were, as if that was what brought them closer to God.

So the next time you think about it, watch how religious people act.

Watch how ridiculous they are.

Watch as they put people like me to shame by lumping me, a True Believer, in with themselves by calling me a “christian”.

And then watch as I show you what the real calling of Christ can do to your life, and to the lives of those around you.

tink hapy tawts

2010-03-20T16:08:00.004-04:00

So I was chatting online with my "daughter" just a few moments ago and I didn't know if she had smiled yet today. I asked her if she would do me a favor and put on the biggest smile she could.
I said,

"I can't see you right now, but would you put on one of your biggest smiles for me?

think a happy thought and smile like it matters

right from the heart

it doesn't have to last long, just enough to brighten the room

and to make Levi wonder "what the hell?"

(Levi is her dog)

She wrote back and said that she laughed out loud thinking of what Levi would have sounded like when speaking in a human voice. We continued our banter and then a thought struck me...

What's my "happy thought?"

If you've watched the movie 'Hook' with Robin Williams and Dustin Hoffman, you'll know that Peter Panning, who was in fact a grown up Peter Pan (played by Robin Williams) was told to fly to save his children. When he couldn't, he was instructed by The Lost Boys to "think happy thoughts" and that would be all he needed to fly.

Now, I'm not saying that happy thoughts make people fly, but they can brighten someones day.

My friend Judy ends 95% of her email correspondence with "Keep thinking those happy thoughts" and quite typically she has an overall carefree and fun attitude towards life. She can't fly, unless you count her driving down the interstate highways getting from home (here in Michigan) down to Paradise (her place down in the Florida Keys). But quite often I would bet that her little tag line at the end there grabs whatever kind of day the intended recipient is having and tweaks it a little.

We don't realize it, but we can affect someone's day by muttering those few words... Think Happy Thoughts. We can influence our own lives by occasionally thinking about happy thoughts.

You know the ones I'm talking about. The ones that make us smile from deep within. The ones that bring an inaudible chuckle to our throat, barely escaping through lips stretched wide over our teeth. The kind that make us shake our head back and forth in silence, while we mock our own foolishness. When you think of those, your mind sprints to that instant where time stands still and you smell the smells, you see the colors, you hear the noises and you breathe those breaths of fulfillment.

So I'll be so bold to ask... What are your happy thoughts?

I know if I ask my friend Dennis, he'll respond with a story or two about his dog, Bear. Bear is one of the sources of happy thoughts for Dennis. Detroit Tiger baseball, especially in the mid-1980's, would be another source for him.

If I ask my brother Scot, I imagine he'll say his children are his happy thoughts. Their little quirks and things they do.

My oldest son Trey might reflect on the JV football game where he scored four touchdowns, or when he ran at the state track meet as a freshman... Or maybe when he beat the xBox360 game HALO for the first time... I don't know.

If I were to talk with my Pastor about his happy thoughts, my money would be on two things. His wife and his Jesus.

I don't know what your happy thoughts are today but as you think of them, may you embrace them daily...

May you tweak someones day by reminding them to think of their happy thoughts...

May you live a life filled with happy thoughts...

and may you endear to pass some of those happy thoughts on to someone who may need one or two to make it through the next day.

My day. Feb 21, 2010

2010-02-21T21:12:00.005-05:00

Today was a pretty good day.

I slept in a little bit at least until about ten-ish. Then I got up to a new day... Sunday. I got my laptop out and scanned the day's headlines. Not much there, at least to make mention here. Noticing a Little Caesars box on the cupboard, I slipped out of the faux leather computer chair, complete with five rolling wheels, and made my way to see what may still be in that box. Bingo, three quarters of a three meat treat left over from the night before was still held captive in the cardboard prison. Bravely, I freed four pieces and placed them end for end on the ceramic plate I swiftly stole from the hanging upper cupboard.

Placing the plate with it's foursome of pizza pie pieces into the ever aging microwave, we've had the current microwave for over 17 years having gained possession of it as a part of our bountiful booty from our wedding, and heated those slices for a couple minutes. I like my old pizza warmed up. Come to think of it, I guess I like my new pizza warmed up too. Grabbing my plate and a glass of cool water, I headed out to the living room where I hooked up the lappy to the our flat panel. I was getting ready for church in the new millennium, getting ready to watch Pastor Perry Noble from NewSpring church preach via the web.

My adopted daughter, Lyndsay, stopped by and sat on the couch and chatted with me while we waited for the service to begin. The boys were playing around with the xBox and other things, of which I have no idea what they were doing. Jules was somewhere, doing something, but I was too busy devouring my breakfast to care.

Lynds and I passed the next six minutes in short spurts of conversations of the day before and my mindless gobbling of the quickly cooling slices.

Once the service began, it was clear that I did not hook something up correctly because there was no sound, yet the lips of the worship leaders were moving as if they were beginning worship. I sprung into action and quickly fixed the problem and the music leaped into the living room like a monster waiting to devour the very air we breathed.

I quickly reclaimed my seat, and watched as the talented young folk from South Carolina lead the congregation in Anderson and their satellite sister churches in worship filled response to Jesus. At about the third song, I felt a rumbling in my belly that resembled that of Jeff Daniels character in the movie Dumb and Dumber, when Jim Carrey's character laced his coffee with ex-lax. I knew pretty soon that I had to make a trip to the throne myself, just not the throne of God.

ok... after writing this, I thought it would be a little better than what it is turning out to be, so I'm just going to stop now.

I will say this much, it ended up being a pretty good day.

What it means to be a Dad

2010-02-15T21:52:00.003-05:00

Being a dad means cutting a son's hair at 9:30 at night and cleaning up the mess while the boy is in the shower because the boy wants to look good the next day for school.

Being a dad means explaining "WHY" girls are the way they are to his sons and not trying to excuse their behavior.

Being a dad means picking up every available empty soda bottle and collecting them for the extra money because for his two little ones to play baseball this year, it's gonna cost $180.

Being a dad means getting up early on a Sunday morning before church and going to the corner market for a gallon of milk before the family gets up, so they'll have something other than water to pour on their cereal.

Being a dad means you work ungodly hours to pay for the mortgage on the house that the family wants to keep living in.

Being a dad means you see the hairs you missed on that late night haircut and you trim them before the boy gets made fun of at school.

Being a dad means an extra trip to a different mall so the boy can spend his birthday money at a "Tastey" store full of darkness, loud music and large posters of partially clad super skinny models.

Being a dad means driving 200+ miles to pick up a couple of new puppies to replace the one that had to be put to sleep.

Being a dad means making the tough decision to put the ailing dog to sleep.

Being a dad means you worry about how to pay for the new shoes that are needed because the bottoms of the old ones are coming off.

Being a dad means you let your boy borrow your coat when he wants to walk the girl out to her car... and his shoes too.

Being a dad means taking the time to teach the boy how to put together (PROPERLY) a shelving unit in order to keep the boys room clean.

Being a dad means sacrificing a meal or two in order so that the boys don't have to.

Being a dad means driving in the cold, snowy night, to pick up the boys from the girl's house.

Being a dad means taking videos of special events, like sports.

Being a dad means cleaning up adter the puppies make a mess on the floor while they are being potty trained.

Being a dad means cleaning the kitchen when he didn't mess it up.

Being a dad means listening to two teenagers gripe and complain about each other.

Being a dad means he stays on top of those boys and their grades.

Being a dad means missing out on television shows he really wants to watch in order to let a 9 year old accomplish something on a video game system that he's been wanting to beat for a REALLY LONG TIME...

Being a dad means you try to give some sort of insight as to why those friends are saying and doing those things when it hurts your teenager so deeply.

Being a dad means you give up your favorite flashlight because one of the boys doesn't have one for flashlight tag.

Being a dad means you steal the batteries from the remote in order to make the new toy work (because sometimes as a dad, you forget to read that 'batteries are not included')

Being a dad means you give up your laptop so that the report can be finished.

Being a dad means you lose control of the remote when cartoons have to be watched.

Being a dad means you get the dirty fork for dinner because all of the clean ones are being used by everyone else.

Being a dad means getting up to help a little boy work through the fear of a vivid nightmare in the dark of night.

Being a dad means getting the last glass of soda and finding out it's flat and nothing but syrup.

Bring a dad means eating the burnt steak because no one likes them THAT well done.

Being a dad means all that and so much more... But what it means to me is something that I just can't put into words.

completely incomplete

2010-02-15T21:51:00.000-05:00

Jesus doesn’t want to change us as most people think or tend to believe. He wants to use us as we are to create a change in the world around us.

Jesus Reinstates Peter
15When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me more than these?"
"Yes, Lord," he said, "you know that I love you."
Jesus said, "Feed my lambs."
16Again Jesus said, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me?"
He answered, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you."
Jesus said, "Take care of my sheep."
17 The third time he said to him, "Simon son of John, do you love me?"
Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, "Do you love me?" He said, "Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you."
Jesus said, "Feed my sheep. 18 I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go." 19Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then he said to him, "Follow me!"

You’ll notice in this passage that Christ recognizes Peter’s personality flaw by repeating the same question three times. He knew that Peter had the characteristics of one who reacts before thinking, saying things before thinking them through. I believe that is why He asked him in repetition, to make Peter realize what he was saying and what Christ was trying to say to him.

So, it isn’t that Jesus is asking us to change who we are, but that He is asking us to be incomplete vessels ready and willing to be used by Him to change the things around us. If we aren’t willing to be completely incomplete, we can’t really be used by Him.

I’m listening to a fictional audiobook while at work. It’s called “Lamb: The gospel according to Biff, Christ’s early childhood friend”, in it one of the magi was found by a young Jesus (then called Joshua or Yeshua) and was teaching the young messiah and his friend Biff about the aspect of learning. Gaspar, the wise man, was pouring tea for the young Biff and stopped just before the cup was full. He went on to explain that unless the cup is empty, you cannot overfill it and still be able to drink the tea that spilled out. He said that “your cup must be empty to be filled” to which Biff threw the tea out of the cup and declared, “Ok, fill me up then.” Gaspar’s point was that we have to empty ourselves in order to receive a real and true lesson. Sometimes we come to the table with our cups half full. Half full of our own ideas, our own prejudices, half full of other’s teaching, be they wrong or right. We come to the classroom with our own life experiences, life situations and cultural settings which “bend” us in certain ways.

If we really want to learn, wouldn’t it make sense to be able to throw those half cups and bends out the window and embrace what is in front of us at the time? Wouldn’t it make sense to be completely incomplete in order to truly grasp hold of what we are learning about now?

That’s all that Christ asks us to be: Completely Incomplete. Acknowledge that we don’t have it all, or have it all together and to be willing to move forward from that place. Once we do that, we can step forward and make progress in our life and in the lives of others. The false sense of who we “are” when it comes to Christ or our place in society disengages us from the realness we can experience once we come to realize that we are completely incomplete.

Brought to you by the letter 'V' and the number '2'

2009-11-14T09:04:00.001-05:00

a sharpened dagger pierces through
willingly the blade cuts inside
almost
as if
premeditated.
bringing an end to suffering
the bleeding stops once the flow
slows to a trickle
and a slight
small
still
whimpering is heard.

crying

weeping

the pain continues as the body loses it’s lifeblood
and the warmth
trails away
in silent streams
of
A positive

Candy apple red cannot compare to
the taste of the bloodthirsty hounds.

She agonizes. He hesitates.

they stab at each other with weapons of love and reckless abandon
steel blades of emotion.

love is too closely related to hate

and

hate is too closely related to love

Theirs is one of elegant tragedy
Theirs is one of arrogant poetry
Theirs is one of scarring humility
Theirs is one of aching, owning, buying, and pursuit.
Theirs is one of self torture and radiant insanity.

Peace is not theirs for now.

poor

2009-11-14T09:03:00.000-05:00

the darkness fills the skies
as clouds
make their presence known
with help from the stiff wind.

a roar echoes
in the east
as another one presses down
upon the helpless ones.

no one can escape
from the oncoming terror.

Yet,

a plan arises.

Archaic as it may seem,

Hope prevails.

Only to be crushed
by the sickening
thud
caused by the violent
storm.

life.

rain falls down and washes away any sign of dirt and filth streaks run down every surface.
sickness ensues and forces collide that strand any ordinary person alone and in chaos.

The guttural sounds of stupid men with their poor grammar fill the spiderwebs of technology, bringing about aching pains from myself. Stabbing, searing feelings growing deep within, while others are abandoning knowledge and information to ride the cheap and easy route.

Life could be easy

2009-11-14T09:01:00.000-05:00

locusts devour
what was once good,
is still good…
for them.

bringing about change is so difficult when you are caught in the middle of the past…
and
you
don’t
want
to
change.

so I sit and write
trying to bring about
a new sense of peace
or something that could make
the past
disappear
within itself.

Why can’t we all just live in a cartoon land
of thirty minute episodes, where we could
have a grand happy ending, except when
there is a ‘to be continued’ episode that usu
ally leaves us hanging until next week’s same
bat time, same bat channel.

Life would be so much easier then…

how do you like me now?

2009-11-14T09:00:00.003-05:00

when i’ve truly walked out of your existence,
do i fail to exist any longer?

will my life continue on without your permission?

will you continue to contribute lies to attempt to bring about my ultimate downfall?

do you not remember that i control everything?

i am the one who allows you to continue on.

you are powerless.

i am the truth.

i am.

something's missing

2009-11-14T09:00:00.001-05:00

I cannot sleep, so I stretch my neck out for the executioner to silent measure. His swift strong swing will bring immediate relief. It will bring to me a sense of empty enjoyment, where I can breathe once again.

Shall I wait, neck stretched and hands bound, for the permanent blow? Or should I wriggle like a child, twisting in defiance, against the cold steel ropes?

Once again I’ve taken a path of insignificance and one filled with less wonder than warm beer on an early afternoon. By testing the binds, I see there is no one who can cage me, yet I bound myself over for this enduring hell. Will the sunset bring me eventual glory or will I bear down and release the sickened animal that most closely resembles my darkened soul?

I fear the brightness of the one who can save me.

something’s missing.

lost

2009-11-14T08:58:00.000-05:00

a broken bottle seems to be a crushing reminder of what once was.

there, in the kitchen, amongst the leftovers, the scraps, the dregs.

I swallow back down
the burning acid
that reaches the top of my throat
and begin to wonder about yesterday.
My brain resonates a chord of discontent,
yet,
my body begins to sing a song of enjoyment.

Why so indecisive?

These are the ramblings of a man who is lost and to the untrained eye, they bring with them a certain air of unintelligence. But for those who have visited the underworld, or who live next door to the one who wriots these ramblings, all sense is made.

untitled

2009-11-14T08:57:00.000-05:00

Emptiness
Flashes of white hot lightning fill my mind's eye
They are a simple reminder. Always.
As I toss and turn in the black of the room I've created
I see a flickering light under the only door leading in

or is it out?

the flickering light is the television, replaying my deepest secrets
and I cannot stop them
they are seen by all, but ignored by some. The brightness is too much to stare at
and yet still the stipulation exists.

The words leak out on my pillowcase through my deaf ears
and I wonder
if I
just
squeezed, and maybe wrung out my pillowcase
would
they
all
fall
in
place?

watching
stalking
ignoring
patience

these words are a leash to a world of insanity...

Swiper, no swiping!

2009-10-29T11:19:00.004-04:00

Due to a recent revelation of someone, I have found that I have an unhealthy stalker who cannot seem to leave me alone. So, in order to help this individual move on with their life, I have decided to block my blog and keep it private.

I apologize if this causes any inconvenience for you, my loyal readers.

Author

lies and disillusionment

2009-10-29T00:37:00.003-04:00

A madman. A cynic. A romantic.

brought to life but cut opened and left to bleed alone.

raw. wounds. open.

gave everything, and received some hope

but the hope was false. a stream of mist. vapor.

hope was revealed to be hate.

still... love abounded, until...

until the lies, sharp as razor blades, cut in. deep.

lies. hurtful. unbearable. despicable.

Where is the truth and why won't it rescue?

condemned to become a cynic.

creation now destroyed. are you happy now?

Snickers really satisfies

2009-09-25T09:26:00.004-04:00

When you hunger for something, you got to find a way to satisfy that hunger. You've got to take personal responsibility to satisfy that. If you want it bad enough.

When will you step up and own your personal relationship with Jesus?

Churches shouldn't look to be a place for you to come to be fed. You shouldn't be coming to church to get fed, you should be going to church to learn and to grow. It's not the job of the church to feed you. It is the job of the church to challenge you, to encourage you and to teach you.

If you want to "eat" you need to take yourself over to the table, pick up the Bible and learn to open it up yourself and read for yourself. The church can put the food out there, but it's your job to feed yourself spiritually.

If you tell someone that the church you go to isn't getting you fed, it isn't an indictment of that church it's an indictment against your spirituality. If you go after God, you'll get Him. Jesus said, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they shall be filled." One of the reasons that people are not being fed at churches across America is because they don't show up with their fork, they show up with their bib.

One of the problems of the church today is that there are too many people who have been a Christian for 5, 10 even 15 years and they are still trying to latch onto the nipple. If you want Jesus, spend some time in His word. Every day. It makes Jesus sick when you show up, after being in the faith for 5, 10 even 15 years, and you're still trying to latch on.

May you step up and realize that you need to wake up and take personal responsibility for your walk with Jesus Christ.

(some of these notes taken from the lesson "Come and Die" taught by Perry Noble in his No Perfect People Allowed series at NewSpring Church)

releasing

2009-08-30T22:20:00.003-04:00

There are several steps in the process of giving a problem completely to God. You take your first step when life rises up to knock you flat -- you CHURN. You feel as if your insides are full of knives, chopping you up in a grinder. Your next step is to BURN. That's right, you want to kill the one who's caused your pain, and then you want to kill yourself. You literally feel as if you are burning inside.

In your third step, you YEARN. Oh, you want so much for things to change. You yearn for the happy past, and this stage often lasts the longest of all. But then you take your next step: You LEARN. You talk with others, perhaps find a support group, and you learn that you're in a long growth process. The wonderful result is that you relieve your own pain.

And finally, you take your last step. You TURN. You turn your problem over to the Lord completely by saying, "Whatever, Lord! Whatever You bring into my life, You are strong enough to get me through it."

SORROW looks back. WORRY looks around. FAITH looks up.

Mustang Sally, guess you better slow your mustang down...

2009-08-29T14:12:00.006-04:00

Well the '09 football season is officially upon us. After working out all summer, Trey and Logan are giving what they can to make the Bullock Creek JV football team a success.

This last Thursday night was their first game against the Mustangs of Sanford Meridian. Wearing their 'away' jerseys, they thought they were ready to take 'em on on their own turf.

Funny how we think one thing and then reality snaps us back into check.

The coin flip provided the Lancers with the ball first and with their first set of downs, they virtually got nowhere. Turning the ball over on downs, Meridian failed to take advantage of the situation, instead having to punt. QB/Punt returner Steel O'Boyle waved for a fair catch, but immediately fumbled the ball, giving it back to the Mustangs. They capitalized on that mistake and scored, giving them a 6-0 lead.

Bullock Creek has a young team, filled with freshmen, and also fully undersized. I think the speed of the game took them for spin. I think they were surprised at the quickness of how the game is played. They seemed to be shell-shocked and couldn't put together any real offense.

...and then from their own 45 yard line they called 29 sweep...

Yep, our #9, right side halfback Trey Griese, sweeps around the end, busts through a couple of tackles and scrambles 55 yards for Bullock Creek's first touchdown.

After that score, the team seemed to settle down and their defense started to step up and speed up their game. The offense also started to push their way down the field, despite the size advantage that Meridian had that night.

By the end of the night, Trey had scored 2 touchdowns and ran for 133 yards. Due to a couple practices in the week prior where Logan did not dress, he did not play in this game, but hopefully he'll get into the next game at Ovid-Elsie on Wednesday.

Final Score: Midland Bullock Creek 36, Sanford Meridian 14.

Helen Keller's Driving School

2009-08-19T21:08:00.003-04:00

I got a few "tweets" from Rick Warren, pastor at Saddleback Church... What he has written and the scriptures that he's quoted from has just been so plain to see, I wonder if some of those who are in leadership can't see it because of their pride blinding them.

Here are some of his recent tweets...

RickWarren A TRUE man of God is known by HOW HE TREATS those who DISAGREE w him.He refuses to quarrel & is kind to EVERYONE.2Tim.2:24 about 1 hour ago from web

²⁴And the Lord's servant must not quarrel; instead, he must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful. ²⁵Those who oppose him he must gently instruct, in the hope that God will grant them repentance leading them to a knowledge of the truth, ²⁶and that they will come to their senses and escape from the trap of the devil, who has taken them captive to do his will.

RickWarren What do these words have in common:Committee,Board,Vote,Election,MajorityRule? None in Bible!"Ur 2B different!"Mk10:42-43 9:10 PM Aug 18th from web

⁴²Jesus called them together and said, "You know that those who are regarded as rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. ⁴³Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, ⁴⁴and whoever wants to be first must be slave of all. ⁴⁵For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."

RickWarren The Church is a Body,not a business;an organism,not an organization;A Flock led by Shepherds,not wannbe CEOs.1 Pet.5:2-4 8:08 PM Aug 18th from web

²Be shepherds of God's flock that is under your care, serving as overseers—not because you must, but because you are willing, as God wants you to be; not greedy for money, but eager to serve; ³not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock.

I guess I'm sickened by supposed strong and growing Christians who won't be that, strong and growing, and step up and condemn those who are in leadership when they are grossly sinning, RIGHT UNDER THEIR CONGREGATION'S NOSE.

All sin won't be blatantly obvious... sometimes you have to speak with those whom are being sinned against to see and hear the stories of pain that are being produced by those in authority. And quite frankly, what I've found is that if you hear of one story, there are usually dozens more that exist. Those stories are just covered up and hidden. One tremendously obvious sign of a cover up is a matter of keeping those involved crushed down and not available to be repaired and healed by those within the congregation that are gifted in healing. Those in authority claim to have spiritual authority over those whom they are treading upon, when in reality God has not placed them in that position. They claim to have this authority, but it is only God who gives authority, not man. Not even a man who acts as though he is a god.

So I encourage you believers to shed the title of Christian and shed the image of being wimpy! Gosh I wonder where non-believers would get that idea from? could it be because you ARE wimpy and unable to stand on your own two feet? Stop claiming that you need to stay at a place of worship because "that's where I get fed"... BABIES ARE FED! TODDLERS ARE FED! Grown ups, even children feed themselves... WHEN WILL YOU LEARN TO FEED YOURSELF?!? When will you grow up or begin to grow up and stop suckling the teat of a wolf in sheep's clothing, thereby resolving yourself to remain a wimpy baby christian for the remainder of your days?

True believers in Christ, show yourselves. Show yourselves through your actions. Show your love for Him with every breath, following His lead, listening to His voice, walking in His footprints...

Don't claim to know Him if your actions don't show it. Don't be the church in Laodicea.

Revelation 3:15-20
¹⁵I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! ¹⁶So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. ¹⁷You say, 'I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.' But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. ¹⁸I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see. ¹⁹Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest, and repent. ²⁰Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.

The names have been changed to protect the innocent and the guilty

2009-08-09T21:05:00.005-04:00

My friend is hurting. His voice had been taken away, but he doesn't want to hurt anyone. He understands what 'honor' means and so he tries to hold it inside. He tries to keep it quiet, the pain that scorches his soul. He'll lash out to some who are close to him, but he knows his boundaries.

He decided to share about his experience. He'd had enough, and needed to speak about what was going on. Some of his heart was behind it, but it was mostly because he wanted the truth to be known. It had gotten to be too much to sit with his mouth closed and not say anything. It was time.

His grandmother has Alzheimer's disease. Some of you may know her, most of you do not. She has been stricken with this malady for some time now. I'm not sure when exactly she was officially diagnosed, or even if she was officially diagnosed at all, you'll have to ask him. She hasn't been fighting this disease because he thinks she's never been told what she has. You have to know what you are fighting in order to fight it. He shared with me that he thinks that his grandfather loves his bride too much to expose her to the truth.

If you sit and think about it, it's kind of romantic, but in a sad sort of way. He is trying to protect her. He's being her knight in shining armor. He's looking out for her well being by not allowing her to know that there is anything amiss. To know there is something out there, slowly robbing you of yourself would be scary enough to admit, let alone to try and fight. I wonder if he is afraid that he'll eventually find himself fighting it alone.

She doesn't have the snap, or sharp mind that she once did. Over the past ten years or so, she's experienced a steady decrease in her memory, often forgetting the answers to questions she's just asked, so he's told me. His grandfather seems not to mind. He told me that he thinks that his Grandfather almost seems to feel powerless. He's sheltered her through this journey, giving in to her demands to drive around and visit their family every night. I've heard that they make the rounds, here to there, treating special ones to ice cream treats in different cities.

Saturday evening, his Grandpa finally decided to take Grandma into the Emergency room because she had been complaining of extreme dizziness and stomach problems since the early afternoon. His mom and dad and aunt and uncle met Grandpa at the hospital to give support and help out wherever they could. The medical staff did their thing and ran their tests, administering drugs as necessary to help. As she started to physically feel better, she started to become more and more belligerent and obstinate, another UGLY side effect of this horrible disease. She began fighting with her family and eventually the staff, to the point where they had to sedate her tonight. They've kept her overnight again to monitor her while a cardiologist specialist comes in tomorrow to decide which road to take in regards to her newly discovered heart issues.

So, my friend's aunt is trying her best to convince his Grandfather to go home for the night and get a good night's sleep. He didn't go home last night and you know how sleeping is when it's done in a hospital as a visitor. He doesn't sleep well at home with Grandma there because she is constantly getting up in the middle of the night. She's not comfortable in her home with Grandpa anymore because, "it's not my home" (even though they've been at their current place of residence for close to 20 years now). I've been told that she gets up and packs a bag, ready to go home, only to be diverted in her attempts to leave their home.

I don't know what will happen. I hope my friend keeps me up to date on this because it does touch close to home.

Please keep them in your prayers. I think they know it is an uphill struggle and that it won't be something that will ever go away, but I still think they have hope.

For L.S.H.

2009-08-05T19:54:00.003-04:00

You ever have one of those days where you want to "feel at home?" Like just surround yourself with those whom you know love and care for you?

Ever experience that feeling?
Mama they try and break me... Still they try and break me...

That's how I felt a couple weeks ago when an old classmate came to town and made it a priority to spend some time with me. This classmate has done a good share of lifting me up during the past few months, really over the last year, when I reached some pretty dark times. Her private messages of positivity always showed me the light and good side of humanity. At times when things were seemingly dark, she'd pick up on it and I'd get a note from her.

So, she was coming into town, and she got ahold of me and we set up a time to get together. We chose a local night spot here in town and her and her husband met my wife and I for a few drinks. Despite not having seen or really spoken to her in nearly 20 years, the time we shared together was like family time
The window burns to light the way back home... A light that warms no matter where they go

As we spent time discussing relevant topics pertaining to the situations and issues me and my family were facing, she turned herself off and turned on my family's cares. What mattered most to me, mattered most to her. It had been a long time since someone had done that, especially someone who lived a few states away.
S'cuse me while I tend to how I feel... These things return to me that still seem real...

Well, another classmate showed up, and reconnected with us as well. My friend saw the change in dynamics within the conversation and let the intimacy created within that busy noisy bar, slowly slide below the radar. She understood that we had connected and that it wouldn't be the same if we tried to continue that level, especially after the new person had entered our company. Don't get me wrong. It was completely fine that our friend stopped in, it was a welcomed interruption. I also want to be clear that I was completely fine with our change in our level of connectedness. We spoke volumes between the two of us when we exchanged glances between each other once our friend arrived. It was an unspoken conversation.
But now the dreams and waking screams that everlast the night... So build a wall, behind it crawl, and hide until it's light... So can't you hear your babies crying now?...

I just want to make sure that my friend knows what an important part of my life she is. What an important piece of me keeping my sanity, of me staying alive. She probably doesn't know it, but I want her to know that. She made me feel at home. She surrounded me with love and the feeling of belonging.
Mama they try and break me... Still they try and break me...

Those of you who are Metallica fans, know what song the italicized words come from... But Lisa, if you don't know, the song is Hero of the Day. At that point in time in my life Lisa, you were my hero of the day, and I thank you.

inspiration

2009-07-25T23:45:00.002-04:00

drinking makes the pain go away

for one pure minute the voices scream less

my beer never leaves me

except in yellow streams of piss

Can't I just lay back here and watch the clouds

lazily drifting by in a silent haze of broken lyrics

my heart beats in a longing persuasion of passion

only for nighttime romantics

everyone in their own world of brown bottle bitterness

the hops and barley gang make their grand entrance

entrancing those who dance their dance

and wetting the pants of those who don't dance

mark the place and my palace is laid

for one bottle, my house, my maid

I crave the numb spinning that kills off the pain

until the emptiness reaches for me again

like a set of cold fingers cynicism grips my eyes

to see what blind men can believe

opening the darkness my shadow awakens me

and hurtles me back where I belong.

stuck

2009-07-25T22:50:00.002-04:00

bouncing around
these words in my head
when will they stop?
will they stop when I'm dead?

creating the room and space to grow
fertilization and development
bound by a common thread
a seam of the truth

depicting the grapes, the fruit of the mind
grabbing and plucking, harvest time
cutting the cord, breaking the link
buried in phrases, my mind starts to sink

letters not numbers, my head spins in such
the words coming quickly, i am tough out of luck
to capture them all would be Kong sized in feat
an audience reading them, compelling a treat

This sickens me so.
letters,
words,
sentences,
phrases,
paragraphs,
chapters,
books.
Where true life ends, and imagination begins.

second thoughts

2009-07-25T22:49:00.001-04:00

my toes twitching in the hot sand
burning the prints on the bottom of my feet
when will this heat end?
when will I learn to retreat?

Marked

2009-07-25T22:41:00.003-04:00

reality screams at me like a hungry newborn child
my vanity cannot contain the amount of sarcasm that fills my life
breaking down is not an option as the rest cannot find rest
fear quickly runs and hides

for not all is lost in these days of darkness
hope, there but for a small candlelight begins
resonating loudly
it's heart beats swiftly and strong

if only the Maker looks favorably again
imagine what possibilities be
be.
is.
will.

within the moment a pang of pain whispers softly
"you are mine" the pain seductively calls
in it's tune is a warmth that bears deep utter cold
blood dripping, oozing from the wounds

gripped

2009-07-25T22:33:00.000-04:00

Rain falls

one drop at a time

soaking my shirt

but not my mind

Steering the tractor

slipping in mud

breaking my stride

feeling frustration

obligation

guilt laid

is their time approaching?

Am I someone’s maid?

freedom lost

choices made unwise

each bearing gifts

summer’s best

rented

Why?

rewind is not an option

obligation

fear and losing transparency

loathing.

permanent

2009-07-25T22:32:00.000-04:00

staring out the window at a wide open field

like the choices of life, weeds, gardens and trees

some divinely planted

others by natures course

still some sunk during unwise moments.

the bus rumbles on and the field gives way

concrete

sidewalks

storefronts

moredecisionstobemade

falling, unable to grip hold

the monster drives now

each hand yields five choises

each foot, one path

my eyes strain, searching in the darkness

my voise calling your name

echoes

my ears scream and curse the unending silense.

will this sickness continue to grow, like a slow canser

will these black cells continue to feast on what was once alive?

can this end soon?

Whitewashed tombs, Alyssa Milano and Rocketown

2009-07-08T23:32:00.004-04:00

I started a Twitter account several months ago... actually it was closer to a year or more ago and I've just most recently activated my account using it more and more.

I've picked a few friends and acquaintances to follow and some celebrities as well. Like Allysa Milano.... you know... the little girl, Tony Danza's daughter from "Who's the Boss?" and also from the movie Commando with the Governator, Ah-nuld Shwarz-ah-neegah. She 'tweets' CONSTANTLY and a lot about politics and baseball. The baseball tweets were nice, but she got to be too much to follow via text.

Also, I've been following an acquaintance, who will remain nameless, who tweeted something that got me to thinking about something.

They said something along the lines of "now that the emergent church leaders have normalized gay marriage, what do they do with ex-gay people?"

That hurts. First of all because some of my closest friends are living a gay lifestyle and I have ex-gay friends.

I mean, if there are people out there who claim the name of Christ, who say they are Christians would really look at or listen to what they are saying, would they see Jesus in it?

The Jesus I know and love is the one who came to set captives free, not enslave more. They are quick to spout off John 3:16 but they seem to forget what verse 17 says... "For God did not send His Son into the worl to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him." When people who claim to be christians make statements, capturing people in a place because of statements they issued, I only hear a lot of pharisaical talk. I do know that Christ came and raged against the religious leaders of His day. I wonder what He would say about todays church.

I wonder if He weeps for the church. I don't say His church because I don't see much of His bride in today's churches. I see a lot of the pharisees in a lot of today's religious leaders. I don't see too many spiritual leaders.... and the ones I do see are the ones being ridiculed. If they don't believe what the mainstream religious right think they ought to, well then they are viewed as heretical.

I've met one such spiritual leader and I'll be honest with you... I felt more of the love and wisdom of Jesus emanating out of him in the five minutes we shared than in 4 years of almost daily interaction with one of the most close-minded, non-compassionate religious leaders I know.

But now I consider myself lucky. I interact with a man of God who bleeds Christ's love. People are drawn to him because of his passion for Jesus.

Now back to my hurt.

I have some very close friends who, because of their lifestyle, happen to be labeled by some of those close-minded pharisees. It kills me when I think of how they would be treated by these people. You see, these pharisees aren't so focused on what Christ did, they are more concerned on keeping Him in the nice little box they keep Him in.

So my question is this... Is one sin greater than another? Will those who are without sin please cast the first stone, or would you just put on the cloak of Christ and begin to show the love of Jesus? Or would you just rather continue to scrub your tombs into your whitewashed state (Matthew 23:27)

Actually, the whole thing reminds me of a song.... here are the lyrics...

A Friday night affair
Out in the city heat
Always a party there
Along the sordid street
And it was guaranteed
The place to be was Rocketown
The drinks were two for one
Inside the crowded bars
The girls would make their run
Out on the boulevard
It was the idol place
We lived the ways of Rocketown
Hang around by the street light
In the heart of the night life

There came a certain man
A stranger to the crowd
We didn't understand
What he was all about
He walked a different pace
So out of place in Rocketown

They made a fool of him
They teased him when he'd speak
But when they knocked him down
He'd turn the other cheek
He told me I could find
A life outside of Rocketown
hang around by the street light
In the heart of the night life

What was his mission?
Where was he going?
Why was his heart light
Always glowing?
All I was missing
He stood there holding
What was his secret?
Could I know it?

Some didn't like him near
Some laughed and turned away
But me, I longed to hear
All that he had to say
He had a peace of mind
I couldn't find in Rocketown
and when I reached down inside me
I could feel the emptiness

He said it's in the heart
This change that comes to be
Now he had done his part
The choice was up to me
As we were standing there
He said a prayer for Rocketown
As we were standing there
He said a prayer for Rocketown

He walked off silently
And prayed for me
And Rocketown...

Post Script... I have since spoken with my friend who tweeted that post and he removed it. It was not his intention to post something that sounded as hateful and bigoted as it did. He does not feel that way so he did not want it to appear that he is not approachable. Thank you MN. You continue to make me believe in believers.

My life, the sitcom

2009-07-05T23:10:00.014-04:00

DISCLAIMER: This is not a blog posting to be read by the faint of heart. I use swears and call names in this post.

I live a life some would call interesting.

Sometimes I think things in a way like Zach Braff's character J.D. in the sitcom "Scrubs" (which has been removed from the airwaves). I don't think I look like I'm staring off into space while I'm off on these tangents, but rather like I'm trying to pay attention to what is going on around me.

I think that in this "daydream world" I tend to play and replay mistakes I've made and the courses of action I would take, being given a second chance, being given a break that will make it ok. Sometimes it works out. Sometimes I'm in a deeper hole than when I started.

A lot of times I play out the dark images in my subconscious. I play out scenarios and situations that I want to have happen, hoping that if ever anything ever DID come about, I would be prepared. Now, some of this is really sick and twisted stuff and will probably never ever happen. It still doesn't hurt to be prepared.

Some of the stuff isn't so sick and twisted. Some of it can really happen, but I don't know if I ever really want it to.

So I wonder if my life is like a sitcom in re-run status. But the only thing is that it's not a 21 minute episode where the hero of the series saves the day by the end, unless it's one of those "to be continued" mystery shows where you wonder HOW can they pull it off now?!? I don't have a back-up laugh track to fill in where the "live studio audience" fails to see the humor in my comedic ways. I'm left trying to fill those holes with absurdity. I wonder when the hero is going to drop out of the sky, make the phone call, send the magic email or whatever it takes to make my "life" turn into a normal life.

But it isn't that I don't live a normal life.

It's that everyone's life is normal according to the way they live.

What I'm expecting to "magically" appear or change, won't. And to take from the movie Fight Club, it pisses me off.

I'm not going to be that Rock Star, that baseball player, the millionaire, the Policeman or anything that I thought I would be when I'm all grown up. I'm grown up now and I have nothing to show for it. You can be damn well assured that I'm not raising my boys to expect to have anything handed to them, or that they would turn out a certain way.

I'm overweight and out of shape. I have hair on my back (and from what I hear that's not an attractive thing unless I want to mate with apes) and crooked teeth. I've developed Psoriasis on my hands which is extremely annoying and I have an ingrown toenail that simply continues to remain ingrown (thank you dr. neal for not fixing that, but yet charging me for your services, bitch). I have a thousand other shortcomings, of which I will not bore you in describing.

As imperfect as I am, I still try to put up the facade of perfection.

I was chatting with a friend online, and the statement came up... "Self-improvement is masturbation". My friend asked me what my thoughts were on that collection of words.... Here's some of what I wrote... "Masturbation is fulfilling only one task. Self pleasure. You don't get pleased (unless you are a weird kink) by my special alone bathroom time. I'm only getting myself ahead....

When I strenuously work out, dye my hair, whiten my teeth, get ripped abs or whatever else is needed to improve myself, I'm really truly not pleasing anyone else. It's a waste of time, energy and resources. Much like masturbation.

In some ways it represents an endless search for something that isn't there. I think that's why he followed up the quote with, "Now self-destruction..."

There is an end when you begin to self-destruct. There is no end to self-improvement. You'll always be searching for that next thing to 'improve' on."...

So I'm left wondering, if I really think and believe that, then what am I bitching about my insecurities? Shouldn't I be happy with what I have become and what I am? Ordinarily a person should/would be. But I was brought up as a member of Gen X. During the 70's, 80's and 90's when America suckled off the fat teat of the world and we flexed our muscles and EVERYONE became famous on a reality show while becoming millionaires.

I didn't even finish college for goodness sake! What the hell was I thinking in bringing in 4 boys to this world? What kind of sit-com is that? Seriously, was Eight is Enough considered a sitcom? A sitcom like Seinfeld or Rules of Engagement? I love my boys and I think their influence in my life has brought me some sort of character building within my own life, but was I thinking that a commercial break was going to change things? Was I waiting for the episode or series to end so that I could start over with a new sitcom family? Have I watched too many cartoons to think that possibly this life can just be turned upside down like a bloody etch-a-sketch and everything could be started over?

When will I become grown up?

When can people start to count on me to be a man and start to lead my family and the people around me?

Where is the damn remote?

So, if you see me staring off sometimes in a wordless empty gaze, just know... I may be in a good place or a bad place... it all depends on where those fucking dendrites and axons decide to take me at that time.

a message

2009-07-02T22:14:00.000-04:00

...sooner or later you're going to realize just as I did that there's a difference between knowing the path and walking the path.

Not meant to be - Theory of a Deadman

2009-07-01T20:37:00.000-04:00

It's never enough to say I'm sorry
It's never enough to say I care
But I'm caught between what you wanted from me
And knowing that if I give that to you
I might just disappear

Nobody wins when everyone's losing

It's like one step forward and two steps back
No matter what I do you're always mad
And I, I can't change your mind
I know it's like trying to turn around on one way street
I can't give you what you want
And it's killing me
And I, I'm starting to see
Maybe we're not meant to be

It's never enough to say I love you
No, it's never enough to say I try
It's hard to believe
That's theres no way out for you and me
And it seems to be the story of our lives

Nobody wins when everyone's losing

It's like one step forward and two steps back
No matter what I do you're always mad
And I, I can't change your mind
I know it's like trying to turn around on a one way street
I can't give you what you want
And it's killing me
And I, I'm starting to see
Maybe we're not meant to be

There's still time to turn this around
You could building this up instead of tearing it down
But I keep thinking
Maybe it's too late

It's like one step forward and two steps back
No matter what I do you're always mad
And I, I can't change your mind
I know it's like trying to turn around on a one way street
I can't give you what you want
And it's killing me
And I, I'm starting to see
Maybe we're not meant to be

It's like one step forward and two steps back
No matter what I do you're always mad
And I, baby I'm sorry to see
Maybe we're not meant to be

do YOU attend a spiritually abusive church? Look closer, you may be surprised...

2009-06-18T21:20:00.001-04:00

The first characteristic of an abusive religious system is called power-posturing. Power-posturing simply means that leaders spend a lot of time focused on their own authority and reminding others of it, as well. This is necessary because their spiritual authority isn’t real – based on genuine godly character – it is postured.

Matthew 7 says of Jesus: “When Jesus had finished His words, the multitudes were amazed at His teaching; for He was teaching them as one having authority, and not as their scribes” (verses 28-29). While the scribes and Pharisees posed as authorities on the basis of their position, Jesus HAD authority, and people could tell. In his book “Taking our cities for God”, John Dawson says, “The one who offers the most hope has the most authority.” Jesus offered us the greatest hope of all.

Those who are in positions of true leadership demonstrate authority, spiritual power, and credibility BY THEIR LIVES AND MESSAGE. If they don’t, they are not truly leaders. The reason any of us is given spiritual authority is because God has led us through real-life experiences, by which He has revealed Himself and His living Word to be true. Spiritual authority is seen in the man or woman who says, by his or her life, “God and His Word are true – I’ve proven them in the fiber of my being. I know there is hope in God!”

As Romans 13:1 says, “For there is no authority except from God.” In Matthew 28:18 Jesus says, “All authority has been given to Me, in heaven and on earth.” Matthew 10:1 says, “And having summoned His twelve disciples, He gave them authority.” Being hired or elected to a spiritual position, talking the loudest, or giving the most does not give someone authority. God does give it, and He does so for the purpose of coming underneath people in the body of Christ to build them, serve them, equip them and set them free to do God’s agenda – which may or may not coincide with the agenda of the leadership.

No question, there are many leaders in the body of Christ whom people follow for the right reason – that is, because God has given them authority and they shepherd the flock. They set people free. Unfortunately, there are others who are elected leaders, but don’t demonstrate any real authority to set people spiritually free. They spend a lot of energy posturing about how much authority they have and how much everyone else is supposed to submit to it. The fact that they are eager to place people under them – under their word, under their “authority” – is one easy-to-spot clue that they are operating in their own authority.

Are obedience and submission important? Without question. This can be seen in Romans 13:1: “Let every person be in subjection to the governing authorities.” And 1 Peter 5:5 says, “Be subject to your elders.” Hebrews 13:17 also says, emphatically, “Obey your leaders, and submit to them.” To bring balance, however, we must add to these verses an equally important passage. Consider the words of Peter and the other apostles in Acts 5:29: “We must obey God rather than men.” Notice Peter is saying this to the religious leaders he was disobeying. Out of context, obedience to leaders looks like good theology. Add the larger context, and you will see that it is ONLY APPROPRIATE TO OBEY AND SUBMIT TO LEADERSHIP WHEN THEIR AUTHORITY IS FROM GOD AND THEIR STANCE IS CONSISTENT WITH HIS.

Though some in authority would love to never be questioned or opposed, the fact of the matter is that such a system is a trap and a downfall for any leader. If noticing problems is labeled disloyalty, lack of submission, divisiveness, and a challenge to authority, then there is only a façade of peace and unity. It is impossible for wounds to be healed, and abuse will one day escalate. If authorities are not accountable, then you have built a system that is in opposition to the freedom that is in Christ. You are ignoring James 3:1, which says, “Let not many of you become teachers, my brethren, knowing that as such we shall incur a stricter judgment.” Leaders are MORE accountable because of their position of authority – not less accountable. Why? Because if you are a leader people are following you, behaving the way you do. You are spiritually reproducing after your own kind.

Church Discipline... How it's meant to be.

2009-06-18T21:11:00.002-04:00

Matthew 18 - ¹⁵"If your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over. ¹⁶But if he will not listen, take one or two others along, so that 'every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.' ¹⁷If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, treat him as you would a pagan or a tax collector.

These verses are “church discipline” verses. Church discipline is a very crucial, often misunderstood and sometimes abusive issue among Christians. It is crucial in two contexts: reconciliation among fellow Christians; and protecting people from danger in the body of Christ.

In a spiritually abusive system, these verses become weapons in the hands of performance-based people to get people to act differently or to get rid of them if they do not.

Context, once again, is very helpful in understanding the heart of these passages. In Matthew 18, the verses immediately preceding describe a sheep that has gone astray. So the shepherd leaves the rest of his sheep to go look for the one that has wandered off.

The brother that has sinned against you is like the sheep who wandered off. Consequently, “go and reprove him.” In other words, go get him and bring him back. If he doesn’t listen, get some others to go again. If he still does not listen, tell the church. “Church” does not mean the group of people that meet together under the same roof a couple of times a week; it is the group of people who have a genuine spiritual connection with the wandering person. If he still does not listen, let him go.