i had this dream...


...actually, i have this dream a lot, relative to other dreams. i guess we all have reoccurring dreams. as reoccurring dreams go, i remember very little from this dream with the exception of the opening sequence. i am some sort of superhero (naturally), and i take off flying into the night headed toward a castle on the side of a mountain. there is a woman (girl?) on the ground as i leave, and as the camera in my head shifts it's focus to her perspective, i can tell she is crying. does she know something that i don't...yet? am i flying off to my peril? will i not let her come with me? is she just emotional? i don't know. maybe i have finished this dream. maybe all of these questions have been answered at some point in my life and i've just never been able to bring the answers with me after my brain pushes the "awake" button. it's always frustrating. i want to know. i want to know where my superhero self is going. what's in the castle. why my superhero costume is so kick-ass. at this point in my life, though, i am starting to understand that i may not get the answers to my questions. that this dream may go unrealized. some dreams do. go unrealized that is. some when we sleep. some when we are awake.

i am a superhero, during my waking hours, to only one person. she is small and sweet and doesn't know any better. soon enough, she will be old enough to know that there are some things that daddy just can't do. but for now, even without a kick-ass costume, i'll take the great responsibility that comes with my great power and protect her. and teach her. and help her. and serve her.

she won't remember any of this, but maybe, somehow, it'll come back to her in a dream. and she'll wonder what it means. in the same way that i've wondered about mine. that it may not be me in my dream but my dad that's hurrying off to save the world. that it's my mom that's crying because she knows that no matter how hard she tries, it will always be him that i see as the one with the superpowers.

she won't remember any of this. the laughing. the playing. the jumping on the bed. if it comes back to her in a dream, i do hope it's a good one.

hannah and me (part seven)
i am now the father of a real little human being


i know. i know what you are thinking. kevin, you've been a father for over two years now. that's true. but it hit me today that this baby girl isn't really a baby anymore. in fact, she's quite capable. hannah started, as all babies do, in what andy calls the furniture phase. she progressed quite nicely through that phase, became mobile, became more mobile and learned to walk, learned to run, to hop, learned words, and learned to string words together all the while retaining the cuteness quotient she displayed way back in the furniture phase.

today has been an old school daddy-daughter day. mommy was unavailable for lunch, so we got up, laid in bed and watched some little einsteins, moved to the living room for dora, watched some sesame street, folded clothes, brushed teeth, got ready, and went. we left for target looking for a couple things and played in target. actually played. we ran. we laughed. we were silly. then we went to go eat at lee garden.

this is when it hit me that i might not have a "baby" girl anymore. hannah sat next to me in her booster seat (obviously not for babies), shared hot and sour soup and crispy noodles with me. when her food came, daddy cut her chicken nuggets in half (although i think she could have done it herself if i would have let her) to let them cool and we shared some small talk while we sipped on our drinks and finished the soup. i put her chicken and rice in front of her and she picked up her spoon and got after it. i asked her if she needed help. she did not. "no, daddy. i'll do it." i ate. she ate. we talked a little. she dipped her nuggets very politely and neatly in sweet and sour sauce, and then we were finished. she picked up the ticket for me and carried it to the cash register. the sweet girl that works at lee garden commented on how big hannah had gotten.

she has. she isn't a baby anymore. i guess she's more of my "little" girl. not my baby girl.

hannah, you are so big. i love you. i hope it's ok if you are always my baby girl.

Sports Talk Entry Number Seven (Roundtable Edition)
winter sports, among other things...


* let me go ahead and throw this out there. shani davis is a dick. i know this comment will cause sarah to count me in the number that need culutural sensitivity training, but i tend to disagree. you can't escape the whole "icy relationship" story between speed skaters shani davis and chad hedrick even if you are just passing through the nbc telecasts, but seeing the 1,000 meters and the post-race interview with shani sealed it for me. shani davis is a dick. poor shani. people are talking about him being selfish. he came from the "mean streets" of chicago. his mom's the speed skating version of earl woods. big whoop. you just won a gold medal. be happy, dude. if you smile for the camera, are nice to melissa stark, and actually embrace the historic moment, sponsors would come calling and you and your crazy-ass mom would be set for life. too bad. i'll be rooting for chad hedrick in the 1,500. boo shani. boo.

* i've watched two almost-complete usa ice hockey games, and they've lost both 2-1. i like watching them, though. the guys playing are pro's, but you still get the feeling they are the scrappy underdogs. i'll watch again tomorrow and root that they don't have to sneak into the quarterfinals through the backdoor.

* ice dancing is stupid. sorry again, sarah...and hannah. and while i am on it, so is bobsled. what is up with the guy(s) who just push the sled to help get in going and then jump in and duck and then get no credit? that's stupid. just put a motor in the thing to get it up to speed and let the "driver" do the rest.

* lindsay jacobellis? i feel better about things now that you've come out and said you were showboating. the whole "i was stabilizing myself" just wasn't going to work. but damn. four years is a long time to have to wait to live something so silly down. i hope you do, though.

* bode miller? (insert boisterous stewie griffin laugh here)

* speaking of winter sports...nba all-star weekend came and went and my love for bron-bron only grew. i can't wait to watch him in the playoffs this year. mark it down on my calendar. lebron plus playoffs equals appointment television.

* speaking of can't wait...world cup isn't so far away. it's incredible that the usa are now good enough and deep enough that they can play their scrubs and still whip competition they are "supposed to beat". i love that. if claudio reyna is healthy, i am predicting quarterfinals.

"it's easy when you know how." - charlie chaplin


that's true, to an extent. limitations are a tricky thing to deal with. physical limitations. mental. it's tough to deal with, very humbling, when i am reminded that i am getting old. not old, old. just older. i was reminded of this thursday night, as i often am, when playing in a church league basketball game. you see, charlie, i know how to play basketball, but i don't know if it's easy. not anymore. not that basketball was ever my best sport, but i knew how to play and could usually overcome my "whiteness" because i knew how to play. for those of us that take sports seriously, we will all reach a point where the mind and body don't click as one anymore, and that is frustrating. i see a pass. i see a passing lane. most times i make it. but there are those times that it takes just a click too long for by body to respond to my brain and i screw up. the lane closes. i make the pass too late. limitations are a tricky thing to deal with. i do like the challenge, though. i always have. to be confident even though i am not the best athlete. to know that my team will win just because i think it. no matter the sport. no matter the game. softball season is just over a month away. we have a title to defend. i can't wait. and even though we haven't had the best basketball season this year, i bet we'll bounce back. why? because i know how.

a cool story that i haven't told anyone about yet...

...the kind of thing that doesn't usually happen to me. the kind of thing preachers usually make up in order to help out a sermon that hasn't filled it's "feel good" quotient...

i am in the store wednesday. it's close to lunchtime, but i've only had one customer so far. a lady. a regular. i knew what she wanted before she opened her mouth and she liked that. a few minutes later, a man comes in. judging a book by it's cover, he looked like your normal 40-ish year old guy. 'til he opened his mouth. it was like his mouth and brain were in a brutal fistfight. i had heard stuttering before, but nothing like this. the amount of physical energy it took him to get words out was absolutely astonishing. it took me aback, but patiently i waited on him, gave him the lowdown on how the store worked, took his order, talked as much as he wanted to, took his money, and said thanks. he walked over to the regular that had already been served and sat down. i was a little confused, but didn't think too much of it. as they were leaving, the lady asked for my attention and told me in so many words, "that is the most patience that i have seen anyone give my brother in a very long time. thank you very much. it made his day. i think you'll see him again soon." i told her no problem and that i would look forward to seeing them both soon, and they left. a definite feel good moment.

limitations are a tricky thing to deal with. compared to some, my limitations are very, very minimal. i hope, most days, that i can be the kind of person that makes other's limitations easier to deal with. to ease their burden. to lighten their load. whatever that might be. it may be a speech impediment. a bad back. a bad day. whatever.

"it's easy when you know how."

true.

i couldn't be any less patriotic
(and marie was right about rick and bubba)


i don't mind watching the olympics. football's over 'til august. baseball won't be here for another month. so, i'll let the olympics distract me if there isn't anything else on. the crappy part is that espn gives me real time results, so the drama isn't there when the telecast comes on however-many hours later. i am not swept up by the olympic spirit. i am the worst patriot there is i have to believe.

on my early morning drives up to huntsville, i have started listening to a little rick and bubba. i lose sportstalk just outside of downtown. it's just too early to bring the rock when the sun still has an hour before it rises. npr makes me sleepy. so, one morning i stumbled across rick and bubba. one of their producers and some of their crew were on a mission to bring a woman (allegedly going blind) from georgia to the rick and bubba studio in birmingham so that she could see bubba in person before losing her sight. the hilarity that ensued made me laugh and has kept me coming back for a few weeks now. when i was telling sarah and my mother-in-law, marie, about this, marie said that she couldn't listen to them because she disagreed with everything they said. i am finding, the more i listen, the more i understand her reasoning.

rick and bubba are very conservative southern baptists, admittedly. they will poke fun at typical southern baptist stereotypes but they will also further them. they casually throw barbs at the "libs" at least once a day. and they have also made light of the recent church arsons by judging the arsonists to the "hell express". granted, some may not see this as making light as much as it seems point on. i, too, think the way the arsonists are voicing their unhappiness towards the church, god, whoever, whatever is absolutely disgusting and shortsighted, but if members of the victim churches have already found forgiveness in their hearts, maybe others could too. in the midst of exploiting almost-blind women and their lifestyles, drawing humor from killing "wild game", being disgusted at the "libs", sucking up to shaun alexander, judging criminals to hell, being comfortable with laughing off the fact that they are eating themselves into an early grave (which i suppose is fine if you are comfortable with your eternity), poking ironic fun at other "celebrities", among other things, they lead off their second hour with the national anthem of all things.

please pardon me if this makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little bit each morning. i am a horrible patriot. maybe finding discomfort in the country and the christianity that rick and bubba and others promote makes me a horrible christian. i would no more want to fight for "my" country, the one i was lucky enough to be born into while others were born into something far worse, than i would jump off a tall building into a pool of concrete. i respect the bravery of those that have. of those that do. of those that will. but that doesn't mean i get it. i don't want to get it. i want to believe that war is bad. that killing is bad. and wrong. and forgiveness is divine. what sets us apart. what i want to set me apart.

i am preaching to my own personal choir. i could just as well not listen. if there was a better option, maybe i wouldn't. if i can find a less rockin' cd in my collection, maybe i'll do that. then again, if i listen, i'll find more inside of me to write about. and i do like to write.

i am a horrible patriot. and i am a hypocrite. i do not root for shaun white because he's american. i root for him because he has cool hair and looks cool doing what he's so good at. but i will root for team usa in the upcoming world baseball classic. and the world cup. because those are my boys. lucky enough to be born in the same country i was. that's our bond. that, in a glass half-empty kind of way, is our curse.

i just wish it didn't have to be our religion.

true love is wiping someone else's butt
(and i don't mean your baby's)


chances are, if you go to church this sunday, you are going to hear one of two sermons or some variation on one of two sermons. the first possibility could very well be titled, "go for the gold". some preacher that thinks himself relevant will seize the opportunity of the olympics beginning this weekend to urge we christians to "be all that we can be", "never accept second place in the game of life", or that, through years of hard work and dedication, insert church name here can change the world (and end up on a wheaties box). the second one is just as obvious but no less annoying. what's tuesday, people? that's right...valentine's day. this same preacher could very well point out to us that this commercialized, made-up, unrealistic day of romance is nothing when compared to God's love for us. hell, i've even used that one. hopefully, whichever of these two sermons you hear will motivate you to leave your sanctuary pumping your fists ready to knock the world out with some Jesus.

what is true love? what is the best example that i could think of? well, i thought of my brother brian again. he's been on my mind a lot lately. mainly because i hope he's still doing well. mainly because it would be nice to see him again. mainly, because i hope he doesn't get sad on valentine's day because most of his "loved" ones have hung him out to dry. he will never read this, but keep proving them wrong, brian. they want you to fail, so they can feel better about themselves. so that their rationale seems ok. keep proving them wrong. you are a man now. make them regret you. make them stay up at night wondering what on earth ever went through their head to convince themself that their life was better off without you.

dateline...huffman. going elementary school. 1987. brian is in second grade. on the playground swingset. somehow, someway, while swinging, brian falls backwards out of the swing and breaks both of his wrists. it's a pathetic sight, my brother in casts up to his shoulders for four weeks. now, brian and i were close, but the event led to a month that i will never forget. why? because for that month, when brian had to go to the bathroom and my mom wasn't home, i took him. he was able to figure out a way to make "number one" work on his own through some body contortioning. "number two", though? well, the casts just didn't allow for the cleaning process to happen without some assistance. so, i played his orderly for a month. was it gross? yes, it was. we didn't speak of it. ever. we didn't make eye contact. i helped him. we left the bathroom. after the casts came off, we didn't bring it up or joke about it. i didn't want to embarrass him. i don't think he wanted me to remember it. i didn't like it. but i didn't mind. he would've done the same for me. love most of the time is bullshit. but that shit (literally and figuratively) was real. nitty gritty. down and dirty. something that made us both, even though we were young, take a different look at how the world works.

i hope you leave church sunday pumping your fist and ready to inject some Jesus into somebody. but don't fake it. you can't do it half-way. you've got to be willing to get dirt under your nails. to break a sweat. and when the going gets tough? well, that's when you have to suck it up and wipe the world's butt.

p.s. - the last four episodes (potentially) of the best show on television during my 29 years air tonight. arrested development (7-9 on fox)...rest in peace.

"God's a kid with an ant farm. He doesn't have any "plans."" - constantine


kind of a cynical way to look at it, but it's food for thought anyway, huh? i watched constantine last night. last week, the president. this week, keanu reeves. "whoa", indeed. i was really geeked about seeing constantine in the theater when it came out last year, but it got drilled by the critics, so i let that take away my excitement. last night, kickin' it in huntsville again, i took a chance. it's too bad that i let the critics push me away from seeing it, because i ended up really enjoying the movie. i don't care what anyone says, but with this movie and the matrix trilogy, keanu can be my superhero anyday. i won't bore you with the plot of the movie, but it's an interesting take on the idea that heaven and hell are at odds (of course), satan's son is trying to make his way to earth and take over, keanu wants to stop this from happening to get in favor with God, yada yada yada, keanu saves us all and gets the girl to boot. now, the theology in play over the course of the movie may not have been right up my alley, but it made me wonder for a little bit about what kind of light the downtrodden may see God in.

the downtrodden. down on their luck. just plain pissed. my brother, brian, fits (or used to) all three of these descriptors. he and i used to talk about why he wouldn't give God or church a chance. he said on more than one occasion that it was because God never took a chance on him. i tend to disagree with him to a point. there were points in brian's life that, were it not for The Big Guy, i don't know if brian would be with us today. but geez, i can certainly see where his cynicism comes from. his real father gave up on him pretty early. the father-figures he inherited through our mother's marriages were not, how do i say this, stellar. what in the world would lead him to count on an invisible Father that must have felt more and more invisible each passing day.

brian laughs nowadays when he pictures me "leading worship" only because neither of us got the point of praise songs growing up. there are days that i still don't, but there are days now that i do. i am glad that brian knows me. i hope that somehow, someday, he'll give God a chance again because he knows what i've been through too and that I love God very much. i hope he sees that being a dick and being a churchgoer don't always go hand in hand.

but what about the downtrodden, the down on their luck, the just plain pissed that don't have that example. what of those that life sucks so much that when they give their day a moment to think about God, they see him as a spoiled kid with an ant farm joyfully watching the ants running into each other without any discernible direction. there are more of them, i am afraid, than there are of us.

in His name, we have a lot of work to do.

OK, then. You go be president.


i watched the state of the union address in it's entirety tuesday night for the first time in, i guess, three years. it wasn't stirring by any means. i don't know if anything new or revolutionary came out of president bush's mouth. it was well delivered, which at times is a difficulty for our commander-in-chief. as speeches go, it was way better than the crappy "there is a better way" democratic response. holy crap, though. did the governor from virginia have creepy eyebrows, or what? i digress. i don't know why exactly i watched the speech. espn didn't offer much. the speech did preempt scrubs. i was alone in huntsville, so i gave it a whirl. 51 minutes. extended over and over again with sustained applause. it's always weird to me to see my democrats sit on their hands when bush delivers his talking points that they don't agree with. is this the image we want the world to see? that we can't put aside our political differences for 51 minutes and show the world we are united? i mean, i get it and all. i didn't want to clap for everything he said. i just wished they could send around a memo and say, "ok. no standing ovations. everyone clap when you feel led. let's hear the speech and disagree about it afterwards."

now, bush doesn't need any more apologists. he has an entire news network full of them. but, damn, am i tired of the whole bush is stupid stuff. listen, it's out in the public domain that he scored a 1206 on his sat. i've read a couple different places that this projects, roughly, to between a 125 & 129 iq. so, he's not stupid. if you are going to argue against him, please come with something stronger than, "liar, liar. pants on fire." do i agree with his policies? rarely. did i vote for the man? not in a million years. but, hell, i do trust his motives now in his second term when he's not working for re-election. at least now he's working on his legacy and the stamp he wants to leave in history books. that's gotta be more genuine than his first term, right? i hope so at least.

so, to my left-wing brethren on television hawking their own agenda rather than answering a simple, direct question. chill the fuck out. you are the one that looks stupid. and bitter. and misguided away from making the world a better place vs. getting your name in the paper. he's the president for three more years. go home. hug your wife that you've forgotten about. write your kid that you sent off to prep school a note and tell them you love them. stop working on your own re-election, and start working on making the world a better place.

oh, and democrats? please find me someone other than hillary to vote for. pretty please.