party like it's 1970?
the 2008 nfl draft was this past saturday and sunday. if you are an alabama football fan, there wasn't much use in paying attention. anyone that witnessed the product the tide put on the field this past season couldn't have imagined that pro scouts drooled over bama's excess of highest-level talent. but there were a couple names of note, d.j. hall and simeon castille being the two that jump first to mind, that i could have seen being picked late in the second day with a long-distance shot of making a team come the fall. it didn't happen, though. for the first time in 38 years, the university of alabama did not have one player selected in the draft. not one! only three teams from the mighty sec could claim this ignominious distinction. ole miss, miss. st. and alabama. wow. that's it. that's the list. as i combed through espn's scouting reports, i was humbled and enlightened to realize that the university of alabama has been playing with the same level of talent as the crap-tastic teams from mississippi. understanding that fact makes it easier to swallow having lost to miss. st. each of the last two years. why wouldn't alabama lose to miss. st.? they are the same team! with the same players. if two teams with equal talent were to play a seven game series, i would always give the edge to the team with the better coach, hence alabama would still probably come out top. but college football is a one day war. and miss. st.'s roster is filled with guys that didn't get offers from alabama, guys that carry that chip with them into the game and have shown they wanted it more than the "entitled" players in tuscaloosa did. good for them. on pure talent, alabama is on par with teams they consider their poop smells better than. and those teams beat them. frequently. this begs the question, what happens when this trend begins to change?
one side note: the player flags for some of the players espn graded crack me up and, further, go to prove how crappy alabama's been. simeon was flagged as being retarded. d.j. hall was flagged with the burden of "character issues". and wallace gilberry was flagged as being not-fast. i wouldn't draft them either!
looking ahead to next year and next season's roster, i don't see a ton of movement on the talent meter. yes, if andre smith comes out, he'll be a first-rounder. and yes, antoine caldwell will probably go in the first three rounds. having those two one more year seasoned and anchoring the offensive line has to help, right? what doesn't help is having a quarterback that the now-defunct steeldogs wouldn't even consider behind that line. what doesn't help is not having a go-to wide receiver that isn't a true freshman. what doesn't help is depending on an undersized and still undermanned secondary as the last line of defense when you are facing high-powered offenses like clemson, georgia and lsu (all not in tuscaloosa). i am extremely reserved when i look at 2008 schedule, but i am optimistically predicting here (and early) nine wins with "upsets" in knoxville and home vs. auburn.
i do give credit to auburn. they have more than capitalized on alabama's troubles with the whole following the rules thing. they have recruited and committed good to very good players. they have gone out of state to do the same. and they have parlayed the success off the field with fairly consistent success on it. they have a first-round lock, too, of a defensive tackle next year in sen'derrick marks if he chooses to come out. and as long as tuberville is there, i would be magnificently surprised if a nfl draft ever came and went without an auburn tiger's name being called.
i do wonder what will happen as that talent gap begins to close. when alabama is, again, closer to the lsu's and florida's of the country than the ole miss's and uab's. i hope that it means another 38 years before what happened this weekend happens again. and i hope that it produces a program that, once again, has to come to grips with being favored against sec competition every once in while because bama has more "talent" than your team does.
partying like it's 1970 is kind of bummer. now, 1993? that would be more like it!
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
item #4759
(things i will never be good at)
((because i choose not to be))
today was "freshen up beth kent's gold award project" (church clean-up) day at humc. we did not attend. it's not that we aren't concerned with the qualities aesthetic of our church, but it's the first saturday i've had off in a while, and we decided to do something more enjoyable. update the garden in front of our house. holy. shit.
what's the opposite of a green thumb?
the project started with a trip to hell. i don't know, exactly, what hell is or where hell is. hell could end up being nothing more than the complete and utter absence of god. like those nights that you don't remember dreaming. those nights where all you understand of your night's rest is that you feel recharged and that you've lost a big chunk of time. hell could very well be just like that without the restful feeling after waking up. because you don't wake up. because you'd be dead. and you weren't interested in the afterlife. or jesus. or whatever other way god wills us to find our way to see him. because you actively choose to not believe that such a reward exists and because of that choice, hell is just like sleep. without the waking up. and that would suck. am i giving anyone else the chills? maybe it's just me. or hell could be hot. the realization of an eternity spent paying for how awful a human being you've chosen to be. constant torture. constant fear. a spiritual and everlasting embodiment of that which terrorizes us the very most. if that latter scenario ended up being the way it played out, my hell would be lowe's.
to most men, a trip to lowe's is a good part to a good day. to me, it is everything that is wrong with life. why else would we have a phonebook with all sorts of people listed that we can pay to come and fix or shape or remodel for us? why in the world would we want to do it ourself? christ. i have no idea. if this makes me less of a man, then fuck it. i am ok with that.
we went to hell and everyone in trussville was there with us. the line to check out in the garden center stretched for days and grown men could be heard swearing at their wives because ordering their beloved back to aisle 666 for the weed-b-gone "that only someone as dumb as you" would forget is a better option than stepping out and away from being the eleventh customer in line at the cash register. sarah and hannah picked out plants, flowers, shrubbery, whatever the hell you call it and i was in charge of caroline. we both kept our head down, did our best not to make eye-contact with the "infected" and prayed to god to release us from this prison. lucky for us, we made it out unscathed, most likely not unforgiven.
our project started innocently enough, but a full two minutes in, i knew i was out of my league. i tried to dig holes where instructed, but my very soft, very smooth hands started to blister. i tried to pull weeds while down on all-fours, but my knees started to burn. the only thing i was any good at was trimming our bushes and i am convinced that this was because i could tell myself i was sabotaging the effort in some way through sheer destruction. sarah was hardly even supervising me. i could have edward scissorhanded my way through the garden leaving only bare limbs in my wake, but i feel that would have soured my wife's mood for the rest of the evening. i fell out of being productive shortly after my two minutes, but the project was finished nonetheless. weeds were pulled. holes were dug. plants were planted. mulch was spread. the front of our home is now easier on the eyes than it was six hours ago.
i am no gardener. this is an understatement. but i do put gardening into the same sub-category of "things i suck at" as i do working on a car, knitting and returning messages. none of these things, among many others, really take talent, do they? they don't require skill, per se. just patience. some willingness to learn. tools. and time. maybe all of those things put together add up to the "talent" necessary to make things bloom. i really don't know. i do know that it must have been a funny sight, the look of being completely overwhelmed that was surely written all over my face this afternoon. a look that said, "i have no idea what i am doing."
"and i don't want to know."
(things i will never be good at)
((because i choose not to be))
today was "freshen up beth kent's gold award project" (church clean-up) day at humc. we did not attend. it's not that we aren't concerned with the qualities aesthetic of our church, but it's the first saturday i've had off in a while, and we decided to do something more enjoyable. update the garden in front of our house. holy. shit.
what's the opposite of a green thumb?
the project started with a trip to hell. i don't know, exactly, what hell is or where hell is. hell could end up being nothing more than the complete and utter absence of god. like those nights that you don't remember dreaming. those nights where all you understand of your night's rest is that you feel recharged and that you've lost a big chunk of time. hell could very well be just like that without the restful feeling after waking up. because you don't wake up. because you'd be dead. and you weren't interested in the afterlife. or jesus. or whatever other way god wills us to find our way to see him. because you actively choose to not believe that such a reward exists and because of that choice, hell is just like sleep. without the waking up. and that would suck. am i giving anyone else the chills? maybe it's just me. or hell could be hot. the realization of an eternity spent paying for how awful a human being you've chosen to be. constant torture. constant fear. a spiritual and everlasting embodiment of that which terrorizes us the very most. if that latter scenario ended up being the way it played out, my hell would be lowe's.
to most men, a trip to lowe's is a good part to a good day. to me, it is everything that is wrong with life. why else would we have a phonebook with all sorts of people listed that we can pay to come and fix or shape or remodel for us? why in the world would we want to do it ourself? christ. i have no idea. if this makes me less of a man, then fuck it. i am ok with that.
we went to hell and everyone in trussville was there with us. the line to check out in the garden center stretched for days and grown men could be heard swearing at their wives because ordering their beloved back to aisle 666 for the weed-b-gone "that only someone as dumb as you" would forget is a better option than stepping out and away from being the eleventh customer in line at the cash register. sarah and hannah picked out plants, flowers, shrubbery, whatever the hell you call it and i was in charge of caroline. we both kept our head down, did our best not to make eye-contact with the "infected" and prayed to god to release us from this prison. lucky for us, we made it out unscathed, most likely not unforgiven.
our project started innocently enough, but a full two minutes in, i knew i was out of my league. i tried to dig holes where instructed, but my very soft, very smooth hands started to blister. i tried to pull weeds while down on all-fours, but my knees started to burn. the only thing i was any good at was trimming our bushes and i am convinced that this was because i could tell myself i was sabotaging the effort in some way through sheer destruction. sarah was hardly even supervising me. i could have edward scissorhanded my way through the garden leaving only bare limbs in my wake, but i feel that would have soured my wife's mood for the rest of the evening. i fell out of being productive shortly after my two minutes, but the project was finished nonetheless. weeds were pulled. holes were dug. plants were planted. mulch was spread. the front of our home is now easier on the eyes than it was six hours ago.
i am no gardener. this is an understatement. but i do put gardening into the same sub-category of "things i suck at" as i do working on a car, knitting and returning messages. none of these things, among many others, really take talent, do they? they don't require skill, per se. just patience. some willingness to learn. tools. and time. maybe all of those things put together add up to the "talent" necessary to make things bloom. i really don't know. i do know that it must have been a funny sight, the look of being completely overwhelmed that was surely written all over my face this afternoon. a look that said, "i have no idea what i am doing."
"and i don't want to know."
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
being in a bad mood is quite unflattering
(hannah and caroline and me, part ten)
april 12th, 2006 was my first day at pet supplies "plus". the two year anniversary came and went with no more fanfare than it should have. that is to say, there was no fanfare. i started thinking about my being there along with my being in huntsville along with my working at humc. over the course of the last four-plus years, the number of nights that sarah has spent at home as a single parent probably comes close to 200 i would think. is that number high? let me think out loud. let's just say i close the store, on average, two nights a week. over two years, that would be at least 100 nights, right? i have to believe the total from the previous two years would be close to that number as well. 200 might even be low-balling it. so, since we have expanded our family to include children, sarah has accumulated close to two-thirds of a year worth of time educating herself in the ways of being a single-mom. me, on the other hand? i would guess that my nights spent alone with child or children probably come closer to 10. you read that right. 10. ten! maybe less than that. it's not many. but it's too many for me.
i bring this up because i have been in a bad mood since around lunchtime on monday. that was about the time that sarah told me she'd be attending a dinner away from home on tuesday night, which is completely fine. i do things all the time away from the house. work, softball, basketball. she should be afforded nights like that, herself, and i should be happy to allow for those nights. in theory, i should. in reality, i have been a complete brat, and only this morning have i been able to shake my hurt feelings that arose after i was made aware i'd be home alone with the girls. selfishly, i know that the only reason i am shaking them now is that i don't have a "just daddy" night at home scheduled for another eight days. "what is your problem?", you may be asking. i am asking that, myself.
any time with the girls is precious time. last night was no different. i picked them up from the church and every single minute of the evening was fine. no, it was better than fine. it was wonderful. and easy. we picked up some mcdonald's on the way home. i fed caroline while hannah watched nickelodeon and ate her dinner. we all were completely content as suppertime drew to it's end. hannah made her way into the living room. i followed shortly with caroline and laid her down for her regularly scheduled evening nap. i came into the kitchen and browsed around on the computer for a few minutes. hannah came in and asked if we could go outside and blow bubbles while the baby was asleep, which we did. we came back in the house and woke up caroline together. as sesame stree provided the background noise, hannah and i worked on an art "project" while caroline played with some happy meal toys and enjoyed some tummy time. i took caroline upstairs, changed her diaper, put on her pajamas, came downstairs and gave her her bedtime bottle. i put her to bed. hannah and i, then, made our way upstairs for her own bedtime routine, which includes the application of some chapstick, brushing her hair, marking off a day on her calendar and reading some of her winnie the pooh book. after kissing her goodnight, i came back downstairs and prepared bottles for today and that took care of the girls. there wasn't an obstacle to be seen, heard or overcome all night. yet, i was still in a foul mood when sarah arrived home from her dinner. i left immediately to go lock up the church, mad at the world. that was the night.
(something else that i've been chewing on is how my mood correlates with the braves winning and losing. they lost last night. didn't score one freaking run against a guy they lit up just about a week ago. i wonder if my mood would have improved sooner if the result went the other way. i tend to think that it would. and that, too, goes to prove what a dick i am.)
i love my girls. all three of them. immensely. i don't even like to think about what my life would be without them. with hannah and caroline, my mood from monday afternoon through last night, though, shows me that my love for them is much easier to grasp and feel when it is wrapped in the context of our family being together. all four of us. as one. don't hear me wrong. i am not saying that i think my love for them is conditional. not in the least. even though i felt, and probably in some ways acted, like an asshole all day yesterday, as i drove to the church, i told myself that the girls wouldn't know of it. not in any way. and they didn't. we had a flawless evening. there wasn't a chance in hell that i was going to let hannah or caroline sense that there was anywhere in the world i'd rather be than with them last night. in those four hours with them before bedtime, i didn't want to be anywhere else. that's the god's honest truth. hooray for compartmentalizing!
it's not that i didn't want to be a dad. it's not that i didn't want children. it's that i didn't (and don't) want to be a dad without a mom. it's that i didn't (and don't) want children by myself, outside of that "context" of our defined and considered family.
nights like last night make me appreciate the nights that i am away from home and sarah is home with the girls without me. every time i have had a daddy night, things have been perfect. because her sample-size is much larger, she has had to suffer through nights on her own that the girls have been, how do you say, not on their best behavior. i think more of her because of those nights and how infrequently she lets the "potential" for those nights ruin her whole day or our time together. she is a better parent than me, and i am ok with that. that said, it's probably not very fair.
i'll be with the girls by myself again on may 1st, and i hope i don't dread it. the dread is such a waste of time. i hope i can wrap my head around how special that night should be and not hold it against sarah or the world because of my immature want to always have a teammate available at home.
it's funny, because sarah (who can read my moods quite easily) has worried about her studying for license exams taking away from "family" time, but she misses the point. it's not that i needed her to do anything last night. paraphrasing piglet, i just wanted and needed "to be sure of you." sure of our family. sure that i am not alone (which i know that i am not.). in the moment (or day), that's hard for me to remember.
here's to improving the quality of my discontent.
(hannah and caroline and me, part ten)
april 12th, 2006 was my first day at pet supplies "plus". the two year anniversary came and went with no more fanfare than it should have. that is to say, there was no fanfare. i started thinking about my being there along with my being in huntsville along with my working at humc. over the course of the last four-plus years, the number of nights that sarah has spent at home as a single parent probably comes close to 200 i would think. is that number high? let me think out loud. let's just say i close the store, on average, two nights a week. over two years, that would be at least 100 nights, right? i have to believe the total from the previous two years would be close to that number as well. 200 might even be low-balling it. so, since we have expanded our family to include children, sarah has accumulated close to two-thirds of a year worth of time educating herself in the ways of being a single-mom. me, on the other hand? i would guess that my nights spent alone with child or children probably come closer to 10. you read that right. 10. ten! maybe less than that. it's not many. but it's too many for me.
i bring this up because i have been in a bad mood since around lunchtime on monday. that was about the time that sarah told me she'd be attending a dinner away from home on tuesday night, which is completely fine. i do things all the time away from the house. work, softball, basketball. she should be afforded nights like that, herself, and i should be happy to allow for those nights. in theory, i should. in reality, i have been a complete brat, and only this morning have i been able to shake my hurt feelings that arose after i was made aware i'd be home alone with the girls. selfishly, i know that the only reason i am shaking them now is that i don't have a "just daddy" night at home scheduled for another eight days. "what is your problem?", you may be asking. i am asking that, myself.
any time with the girls is precious time. last night was no different. i picked them up from the church and every single minute of the evening was fine. no, it was better than fine. it was wonderful. and easy. we picked up some mcdonald's on the way home. i fed caroline while hannah watched nickelodeon and ate her dinner. we all were completely content as suppertime drew to it's end. hannah made her way into the living room. i followed shortly with caroline and laid her down for her regularly scheduled evening nap. i came into the kitchen and browsed around on the computer for a few minutes. hannah came in and asked if we could go outside and blow bubbles while the baby was asleep, which we did. we came back in the house and woke up caroline together. as sesame stree provided the background noise, hannah and i worked on an art "project" while caroline played with some happy meal toys and enjoyed some tummy time. i took caroline upstairs, changed her diaper, put on her pajamas, came downstairs and gave her her bedtime bottle. i put her to bed. hannah and i, then, made our way upstairs for her own bedtime routine, which includes the application of some chapstick, brushing her hair, marking off a day on her calendar and reading some of her winnie the pooh book. after kissing her goodnight, i came back downstairs and prepared bottles for today and that took care of the girls. there wasn't an obstacle to be seen, heard or overcome all night. yet, i was still in a foul mood when sarah arrived home from her dinner. i left immediately to go lock up the church, mad at the world. that was the night.
(something else that i've been chewing on is how my mood correlates with the braves winning and losing. they lost last night. didn't score one freaking run against a guy they lit up just about a week ago. i wonder if my mood would have improved sooner if the result went the other way. i tend to think that it would. and that, too, goes to prove what a dick i am.)
i love my girls. all three of them. immensely. i don't even like to think about what my life would be without them. with hannah and caroline, my mood from monday afternoon through last night, though, shows me that my love for them is much easier to grasp and feel when it is wrapped in the context of our family being together. all four of us. as one. don't hear me wrong. i am not saying that i think my love for them is conditional. not in the least. even though i felt, and probably in some ways acted, like an asshole all day yesterday, as i drove to the church, i told myself that the girls wouldn't know of it. not in any way. and they didn't. we had a flawless evening. there wasn't a chance in hell that i was going to let hannah or caroline sense that there was anywhere in the world i'd rather be than with them last night. in those four hours with them before bedtime, i didn't want to be anywhere else. that's the god's honest truth. hooray for compartmentalizing!
it's not that i didn't want to be a dad. it's not that i didn't want children. it's that i didn't (and don't) want to be a dad without a mom. it's that i didn't (and don't) want children by myself, outside of that "context" of our defined and considered family.
nights like last night make me appreciate the nights that i am away from home and sarah is home with the girls without me. every time i have had a daddy night, things have been perfect. because her sample-size is much larger, she has had to suffer through nights on her own that the girls have been, how do you say, not on their best behavior. i think more of her because of those nights and how infrequently she lets the "potential" for those nights ruin her whole day or our time together. she is a better parent than me, and i am ok with that. that said, it's probably not very fair.
i'll be with the girls by myself again on may 1st, and i hope i don't dread it. the dread is such a waste of time. i hope i can wrap my head around how special that night should be and not hold it against sarah or the world because of my immature want to always have a teammate available at home.
it's funny, because sarah (who can read my moods quite easily) has worried about her studying for license exams taking away from "family" time, but she misses the point. it's not that i needed her to do anything last night. paraphrasing piglet, i just wanted and needed "to be sure of you." sure of our family. sure that i am not alone (which i know that i am not.). in the moment (or day), that's hard for me to remember.
here's to improving the quality of my discontent.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
"what if?"
(to spell out the metaphor in the picture, we are the guy diving hopelessly. the guy with the ball is our dreams.)
there are questions in life that you must answer. sometimes, these questions are born out of pure curiosity. sometimes, they are born out of life experience. our flag football season this spring was born out of the latter. in the spring of 2007, kiker and i were asked to play on a flag football team. i had not played an organized brand of football since the age of 12 and the idea sounded fabulous. running routes. catching passes. pulling flags. it sounded like great exercise and a wonderful way to pass the time between the end of the church basketball season and the beginning of softball.
it wasn't. kiker, myself, and a couple other guys from our softball team joined a group of ex-high school athletes that, from the start, took this venture into the realm of not-so-competitive flag football quite seriously. well, they took the games quite seriously. if the entire group ever showed up for practice, our fortunes may have been different. we had our terrell owens. our guy that was "always open". we had our reggie bush. the guy whose athletic gifts gave you the false impression that he was going to impact the game in a far greater way than he ever did. we had our "role players", a category that i was placed in and fine with. i would run the routes that i was asked, unaware until about game three that they were decoy routes to draw defensive attention away from terrell owens and reggie bush. and then, we had the argo brothers. heath and clint are two nice guys, both of which i consider friends. but they should never play flag football together. clint has "coached" high school football. heath has played a lot of madden and ncaa on playstation. i am not sure either of those qualifies one as an expert on the flag football field, but that is not the real point. the real point was that their relationship, or lack thereof, on the field was so uncomfortable that we were hard pressed not to leave the field each week as fast as we could in the hopes that we wouldn't be asked back out the following week. flag football, 2007, was a waste of our time.
in theory, we should enjoy flag football. that's what kiker and i thought at least. having been on the field, we saw our competition and knew that we had enough friends and co-workers that we could put together a product that might win a few games and redeem the prior season's failures. right? absolutely. we started asking around, putting names on paper and came up with an eleven man roster that we felt could compete in the c-league as well as enjoy each other's company, win or lose. even before week one, signs pointed to the season not being exactly what we had drawn up. we had problems getting folks to practice. we had issues with guys saying "i'd like to play" and then hedging when it came to giving up a sunday afternoon. we had a couple guys that liked "the idea" of playing a lot more than actually playing. we were in trouble before the season opened. i just didn't want to see it.
week one came and our season peaked on our first drive. i wish i could tell you i am kidding. but i am not. we could not have scripted coming out of the box any better. we got the ball first. i was 5 for 6 on the drive. i threw a touchdown pass. we completed the point after attempt. and we were up 7-0. high-fiving. feeling good about ourselves. patting each other on the back. life could not get much better. it was 1:15 into the 2000 alabama-ucla game and we were freddie milons dancing into the endzone. wait a second. did i say the 2000 alabama-ucla game? the game that saw alabama take the lead on a punt return and then, in a moment, find themselves down 21-7 with no chance of getting back into the game? yep. that's the one. and that was our season.
had i a clue that our season's everest was going to be that first drive, i wouldn't have changed anything...i don't guess. i am not a quitter. but it certainly would've helped with the perspective that i could not find after four weeks. "but we're better than this, guys! remember that first drive??? we just need to figure things out." but we weren't better than that. just like freddie milon's punt return, our first drive was a fluke. beginner's luck. chance. god giving me the finger. whatever. and the season went downhill from there. we never scored more than 13 points in any one game. we never forced a punt. we were slow. we were unorganized. sometimes, we didn't even have the seven guys you are supposed to start a game with. we. were. horrible.
but we answered that question. that, "what if?". what if we played another season with another group of guys and we tried to have fun with it?
we would still suck? oh, cool. thanks. read you loud and clear. if there was a bright spot, it was that i never got in my car angry with a teammate. i never didn't want to come back. and that's a testament to the guys i went to war with. granted, we were carrying knives into a gunfight, but i would pick the same guys again. no doubt about it. i am thankful for good friends and good attitudes. that, more than our play on the field, will define the birminghamandcheese when i look back on our experience from the future.
next spring, after basketball ends, there's a good chance that i am going to keep my sundays free and clear of flag-football. do something with the family. watch the braves in their home reds. i won't have to worry about "what if?", not as it relates to flag-football.
and i think i am ok with the answer.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
"some day this will make a useful anecdote"
i am a couple days late putting fingers to keyboard on this, but, you know, work got in the way. whatareyougonnado? the daily show used to be appointment televsion for sarah and me, back when we weren't old and didn't feel like the next day would be ruined completely if we didn't get in bed by 9:00. only since caroline has arrived have i really felt this way. felt that as soon as the girls are in bed, that we should follow suit immediately. if not? we would be exhausted by 3:00 p.m. the next day and entirely incapable of functioning as a family by the time we all got home. the low battery light flashing on one parent can be worked around on some evenings. if sarah and i, both, are ready to be plugged into the wall in combination with hannah whining and caroline hungry? hurt feelings can ensue. easily. but i digress.
i was up and alert monday night at daily show time and the first segment seemed to be pulled directly from my "i couldn't have said it better myself" folder. here's a link.
http://www.thedailyshow.com/video/index.jhtml?videoId=166074&title=gaffe-in
it's perfectly pointed and funny, just like any classic jon stewart "monologue". but the point that pushed my buttons the hardest comes at the 7:10 mark. after barack obama's recent casual remarks commenting (he admitted that they were broad, stereotypical comments) on the process of midwesterners' decision-making, of course he was raped by the political pundits. and maybe he should've been. he should know by now to measure every word or else. and the comments in question were lazy at best. that being said, the stance big news media took on this day was to paint obama as an "elitist" and paint that as a bad thing. i'll let the clip speak for itself the rest of the way, but the last two minutes of stewart's rant summed up my feelings on the battle between obama and clinton as well as issues within our current structure at humc.
the definition of elite has not and will not change. the connotation definitely has. i have thrown the word "elitist" around in a negative way, so i am just as guilty as the next guy. but the idea of being a leader in our society and our churches (at least, the societies and churches that are struggling) seems to have been watered down to the idea of who can be the best "everyman". the "all things to all people" guy that never gets around to making any big and tough decisions for the greater good of the residents/membership because he is too bogged down with all the minute and day-to-day decisions that the congregation asks of him/her. the classic definition of not being able to see the forest for the trees. as stewart posits, why wouldn't the country want a leader that has a vision for a new and more peaceful world? why wouldn't we want a leader that has a vision that he/she believes in and feels as though they are capable of moving the country in what they perceive to be the right direction? why wouldn't big news want that too? why? because it's hard. and it doesn't make for good tv to agree with candidates that, deep down, i believe want to make america a better place.
and again, bringing it back local, why wouldn't our congregation want a senior pastor that was willing to bring a message of change from the pulpit, ask us to accept that message, own it and move forward? quite frankly, i think we do. but dcd (pastor chris) has fallen directly in line with the last four appointments huffman has received (including my biased favorite, john rutland) and is too afraid to push us in a certain direction because he's been afraid that we might leave some behind (that, or they've had no direction, themselves. same result either way). granted, this is a common problem for any church suffering from dwindling numbers and relevancy. the priority becomes saving those aboard the sinking ship instead of finding a new boat, a boat that will sail to somewhere and not slowly take on water in the same place it's always been until it's too late.
the country and the church are just as much to blame as our "leaders". i admit that. we've gotten used to asking for "what will get us by" instead of "what's best". but if our leaders are willing to play a role in that play, are they really leading or just characters whose fate is defined for them? i hope that obama or clinton have a chance to change the course of their current direction.
and i pray that humc and their leader may soon understand that we are currently swirling in a whirlpool. the good ship "disciples in action: making and growing disciples"'s fate has been sealed.
we need a new boat.
i am a couple days late putting fingers to keyboard on this, but, you know, work got in the way. whatareyougonnado? the daily show used to be appointment televsion for sarah and me, back when we weren't old and didn't feel like the next day would be ruined completely if we didn't get in bed by 9:00. only since caroline has arrived have i really felt this way. felt that as soon as the girls are in bed, that we should follow suit immediately. if not? we would be exhausted by 3:00 p.m. the next day and entirely incapable of functioning as a family by the time we all got home. the low battery light flashing on one parent can be worked around on some evenings. if sarah and i, both, are ready to be plugged into the wall in combination with hannah whining and caroline hungry? hurt feelings can ensue. easily. but i digress.
i was up and alert monday night at daily show time and the first segment seemed to be pulled directly from my "i couldn't have said it better myself" folder. here's a link.
http://www.thedailyshow.com/video/index.jhtml?videoId=166074&title=gaffe-in
it's perfectly pointed and funny, just like any classic jon stewart "monologue". but the point that pushed my buttons the hardest comes at the 7:10 mark. after barack obama's recent casual remarks commenting (he admitted that they were broad, stereotypical comments) on the process of midwesterners' decision-making, of course he was raped by the political pundits. and maybe he should've been. he should know by now to measure every word or else. and the comments in question were lazy at best. that being said, the stance big news media took on this day was to paint obama as an "elitist" and paint that as a bad thing. i'll let the clip speak for itself the rest of the way, but the last two minutes of stewart's rant summed up my feelings on the battle between obama and clinton as well as issues within our current structure at humc.
the definition of elite has not and will not change. the connotation definitely has. i have thrown the word "elitist" around in a negative way, so i am just as guilty as the next guy. but the idea of being a leader in our society and our churches (at least, the societies and churches that are struggling) seems to have been watered down to the idea of who can be the best "everyman". the "all things to all people" guy that never gets around to making any big and tough decisions for the greater good of the residents/membership because he is too bogged down with all the minute and day-to-day decisions that the congregation asks of him/her. the classic definition of not being able to see the forest for the trees. as stewart posits, why wouldn't the country want a leader that has a vision for a new and more peaceful world? why wouldn't we want a leader that has a vision that he/she believes in and feels as though they are capable of moving the country in what they perceive to be the right direction? why wouldn't big news want that too? why? because it's hard. and it doesn't make for good tv to agree with candidates that, deep down, i believe want to make america a better place.
and again, bringing it back local, why wouldn't our congregation want a senior pastor that was willing to bring a message of change from the pulpit, ask us to accept that message, own it and move forward? quite frankly, i think we do. but dcd (pastor chris) has fallen directly in line with the last four appointments huffman has received (including my biased favorite, john rutland) and is too afraid to push us in a certain direction because he's been afraid that we might leave some behind (that, or they've had no direction, themselves. same result either way). granted, this is a common problem for any church suffering from dwindling numbers and relevancy. the priority becomes saving those aboard the sinking ship instead of finding a new boat, a boat that will sail to somewhere and not slowly take on water in the same place it's always been until it's too late.
the country and the church are just as much to blame as our "leaders". i admit that. we've gotten used to asking for "what will get us by" instead of "what's best". but if our leaders are willing to play a role in that play, are they really leading or just characters whose fate is defined for them? i hope that obama or clinton have a chance to change the course of their current direction.
and i pray that humc and their leader may soon understand that we are currently swirling in a whirlpool. the good ship "disciples in action: making and growing disciples"'s fate has been sealed.
we need a new boat.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
i bet his hands are soft, too
this list has changed. while i will consider re-entering mike vick into the pantheon of athletes that i wish i could be for a day after he gets out of jail, one man has now separated himself from the pack. that man? tim hudson.
i watched him as he pitched last night and stood in awe just like i stand in awe every time i watch him pitch. i shouldn't favor him as much as i do. he was an auburn tiger after all. but i have forgiven him of that sin and, since, focused on the fact that, for whatever reason, he is the major league baseball player that i stop what i am doing and watch every time he is doing what he does. i could go on for days about what it is that attracts me to him. our build is similar. our hairlines are similar. he has cool tats. i have a less cool tat. i love that it looks like it takes every ounce of his 165-pound frame to accomplish each and every pitch he throws. i love how he competes. i love that, on the nights where he doesn't have his best stuff, he still tries his damn-dest to put the braves in position to win. last night wasn't one of those nights. everything was in order. my tim doesn't have that one pitch that batters dread. his two-seamer is pretty wicked. his slider is decent. every pitch he throws sinks to some degree. he has enough in his arsenal to be unhittable at times, but you don't get the impression that teams "fear" him in the same way they do smoltz when smoltz has his shit working. and i am sure all of that plays into my adoration for tim hudson. he's more "everyman" than smoltz could ever hope to be. he doesn't come on tv on his off days and brag about playing golf with tiger woods. you are never going to see him in a tv booth after he hangs up the spikes. when hudson finishes pitching, that'll be the end of it. he'll come back and throw out a first pitch or he might sign some memorabilia when he runs out of money, but hudson will always be defined as a player and a player only. don't get me wrong. i love that smoltz is a brave. i just wouldn't want to carry his jock-strap around. tim, on the other hand...
the braves are already destroying me. the "vaunted" line-up everyone was pimping in the spring can't hit shit on the road yet. chipper started limping around last night. hampton IS WHO WE THOUGHT HE WAS!!! finally earning the closer's role after picking up bob wickman's cheeseburger wrappers last year, soriano's already hurt. for a team that has a lot of pieces back from a pretty good year last season, something just feels off. and yes, i know it's early. i look at the standings and if the braves win today they will have the same record after 11 games as the eventual world series champions do. but, in spite of what "the experts" might tell you, games in april freaking count!!! the only brave that seems to realize this? you guessed it. tim.
tim knows how fickle i am. he knows that i will turn on him like one of his hanging sliders if he starts to suck it up. but it will always be tough love even if it is conditional love. whatever venom i spew in his direction will only be because i want the best for him. because i know he is better than most. because if the braves have any shot to win the east or make the playoffs, he has to win twenty games. and most likely contend for the cy young. no pressure, right?
i love you, tim hudson. i'll write again soon.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
misremembering
sometime in the bottom of the second inning of my softball game monday night, i found myself daydreaming. i don't know what brought it on. i don't know why, at that moment, i found myself lost in my memories. i am sure it had to do with where i was. who i was with. who i wasn't with. but i found myself thinking back to when i was a kid, living in a trailer park in pinson, probably fifteen to twenty stone throws away from where i was playing shortstop. man, that trailer. it's not often that i pull up to the softball fields and don't have one of my daymares. brief, desmond-type flashes that zoom me back to a past that haunts me and defines me all at the same time.
being in the trailer, a trailer, wasn't something i was ashamed of entirely. i guess, even in middle school, i was still too young to know that a trailer park wasn't cool. to know that most people chalked me and my brother up as rednecks as our bus picked us up. to know that people probably made fun of us because our home was, in fact, mobile. i wasn't aware of any of that then, and that is probably a good thing. i had good friends who never let on that they gave a shit about where i lived. not when we were playing nintendo. not when we were playing football in the mini-front yard. not when out-of-bounds was marked by our trailer and our neighbor's. we were fucking arena football before arena football even existed. who knew? i had a mother that never let on that our house was any different than any other house, even when the weather was bad. i've told this story to some before, but i vividly and accurately remember (something i don't have the luxury of doing often, accurately remembering that is.) hearing jerry tracy tell us that if we lived in a mobile home, we needed to find a safer place. "go lay in a ditch. do not stay in the deathtrap that is your home." ok, maybe he didn't say that, but it is common knowledge, now, that tornadoes hit trailers first. always. i would look back at my mom with what was surely the most panic-stricken face a thirteen year-old could forge and ask her if we should leave. she would just look down calmly at me and tell me we would be "fine." "if it's our time, it's our time." how fucked up is that??? don't tell me that! if we stay in the trailer and the wind picks us up and hurls us into a canyon, that's on us, mom!!! jerry warned us! it was no surprise, looking back, to find out the next morning, when the weather had passed, that we were fine. she was usually right about most things.
except the men she chose.
we all need love. and we all need attention. it's how god made us. i believe this. and i believe it's a good and great thing. that need. that search for a companion that might make us whole. that might make us better. that might bring us into closer relationship with our creator. some of us choose wisely. some of us, poorly. mom? she chose poorly. many times. i am glad that i am old enough to not hold those choices against her any more. without them, i wouldn't be me. it is true that, without them, i may not have daymares every time i drive through pinson, but that, too, is something i hold dear now, even if it's painful. it's just a bump in the road now. not the warp-zone to hell it used to be. and that means i've grown. that means i've gotten stronger. or it means i've gotten better at compartmentalizing and avoiding. either way is ok.
my conscious mind flashed forward in time for me to cleanly field a ground ball and make a nice throw to first. and as the inning ended i glanced over my shoulder to give a nod to my past, telling it to have a nice week and that i would see it again next monday.
elfreth johnson.
sometime in the bottom of the second inning of my softball game monday night, i found myself daydreaming. i don't know what brought it on. i don't know why, at that moment, i found myself lost in my memories. i am sure it had to do with where i was. who i was with. who i wasn't with. but i found myself thinking back to when i was a kid, living in a trailer park in pinson, probably fifteen to twenty stone throws away from where i was playing shortstop. man, that trailer. it's not often that i pull up to the softball fields and don't have one of my daymares. brief, desmond-type flashes that zoom me back to a past that haunts me and defines me all at the same time.
being in the trailer, a trailer, wasn't something i was ashamed of entirely. i guess, even in middle school, i was still too young to know that a trailer park wasn't cool. to know that most people chalked me and my brother up as rednecks as our bus picked us up. to know that people probably made fun of us because our home was, in fact, mobile. i wasn't aware of any of that then, and that is probably a good thing. i had good friends who never let on that they gave a shit about where i lived. not when we were playing nintendo. not when we were playing football in the mini-front yard. not when out-of-bounds was marked by our trailer and our neighbor's. we were fucking arena football before arena football even existed. who knew? i had a mother that never let on that our house was any different than any other house, even when the weather was bad. i've told this story to some before, but i vividly and accurately remember (something i don't have the luxury of doing often, accurately remembering that is.) hearing jerry tracy tell us that if we lived in a mobile home, we needed to find a safer place. "go lay in a ditch. do not stay in the deathtrap that is your home." ok, maybe he didn't say that, but it is common knowledge, now, that tornadoes hit trailers first. always. i would look back at my mom with what was surely the most panic-stricken face a thirteen year-old could forge and ask her if we should leave. she would just look down calmly at me and tell me we would be "fine." "if it's our time, it's our time." how fucked up is that??? don't tell me that! if we stay in the trailer and the wind picks us up and hurls us into a canyon, that's on us, mom!!! jerry warned us! it was no surprise, looking back, to find out the next morning, when the weather had passed, that we were fine. she was usually right about most things.
except the men she chose.
we all need love. and we all need attention. it's how god made us. i believe this. and i believe it's a good and great thing. that need. that search for a companion that might make us whole. that might make us better. that might bring us into closer relationship with our creator. some of us choose wisely. some of us, poorly. mom? she chose poorly. many times. i am glad that i am old enough to not hold those choices against her any more. without them, i wouldn't be me. it is true that, without them, i may not have daymares every time i drive through pinson, but that, too, is something i hold dear now, even if it's painful. it's just a bump in the road now. not the warp-zone to hell it used to be. and that means i've grown. that means i've gotten stronger. or it means i've gotten better at compartmentalizing and avoiding. either way is ok.
my conscious mind flashed forward in time for me to cleanly field a ground ball and make a nice throw to first. and as the inning ended i glanced over my shoulder to give a nod to my past, telling it to have a nice week and that i would see it again next monday.
elfreth johnson.
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
kissing my (proverbial) sister never felt so good
i won't waste too much of your time today, but you'd be disappointed if i didn't gloat just a little bit, wouldn't you? no. no, you wouldn't.
but i have to. i just have to. the comeback is too epic not to mention. in my bracket pool, midway through the second weekend of the tournament, i was buried and left for dead one spot above last place. but i pointed my fingers at the roof of that coffin, mini-flashlight in my mouth, and i started punching. and punching. and punching. saturday night, i broke through. saturday night, my kansas jayhawks (yes, i said it. my kansas jayhawks) beat "everyone"'s favorites, north carolina. game on.
i glanced at the pool and noticed that two people in the entire group picked kansas to win the title. and if they did? those two people would share claim to taking the humc bracket for a full year. memphis stood in the way as the dirt on my climb to the surface, but, after saturday night, it was inevitable. i would win that group. yessir, i would. and i did.
the only thing that will prevent me from being an insufferable buffoon over the next couple of days will be the fact that i have to share this prize with andy. but, if i have to kiss someone in my "family", i could do worse. congrats to you, too, my friend.
and, so, for the first time in five years (maybe more), i have restored what is right in the world and i have proved that i know more about sports than EVERYONE!!! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!
that, or i was pretty damn lucky that espn chose to weigh the championship game as heavy as they did (completely rendering false my theory that tourney pools are won or lost on the first weekend) and allowed me the means to complete the journey from (near) worst to first.
either way, i will enjoy this day.
"thank you...first off, i would like to thank mark gottfried..."
i won't waste too much of your time today, but you'd be disappointed if i didn't gloat just a little bit, wouldn't you? no. no, you wouldn't.
but i have to. i just have to. the comeback is too epic not to mention. in my bracket pool, midway through the second weekend of the tournament, i was buried and left for dead one spot above last place. but i pointed my fingers at the roof of that coffin, mini-flashlight in my mouth, and i started punching. and punching. and punching. saturday night, i broke through. saturday night, my kansas jayhawks (yes, i said it. my kansas jayhawks) beat "everyone"'s favorites, north carolina. game on.
i glanced at the pool and noticed that two people in the entire group picked kansas to win the title. and if they did? those two people would share claim to taking the humc bracket for a full year. memphis stood in the way as the dirt on my climb to the surface, but, after saturday night, it was inevitable. i would win that group. yessir, i would. and i did.
the only thing that will prevent me from being an insufferable buffoon over the next couple of days will be the fact that i have to share this prize with andy. but, if i have to kiss someone in my "family", i could do worse. congrats to you, too, my friend.
and, so, for the first time in five years (maybe more), i have restored what is right in the world and i have proved that i know more about sports than EVERYONE!!! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!
that, or i was pretty damn lucky that espn chose to weigh the championship game as heavy as they did (completely rendering false my theory that tourney pools are won or lost on the first weekend) and allowed me the means to complete the journey from (near) worst to first.
either way, i will enjoy this day.
"thank you...first off, i would like to thank mark gottfried..."
Saturday, April 05, 2008
143-9
i guess that's what i get. 143-9! the combined records of the four one seeds that will play in the final four tonight is 143-9. no drake. no butler. no gonzaga. even no davidson (although, listen. stephen curry won me over, too.). there aren't any "cinderella" stories to speak of, thank god. it's been funny and fun listening to espn drum up human interest stories and fictional conflicts between roy williams and the school he left behind to take the place of having an underdog to pimp. what we have today is simple. it's the best final four. ever. never have all the number one seeds made it to the final four. never until today. and where will i be? the freakin' store.
now, i am not asking you to cry for me, argentina. i am just bothered with myself. after intentionally scheduling my last two weeks with an eye towards maximum ncaa tourney watching, i posted this week's hours for all to see when something else must have been forefront in my mind. how else could this have happened? granted, i post my schedules eleven days out, so the sweet sixteen had yet to be played. i didn't know at the time that i was putting myself in danger of missing the five, best hours of basketball this college season (maybe any college season) would have to offer. maybe, subconsciously, i figured a davidson or louisville was going to crash the party anyway, therefore lessening the potential excitement, but i should have known. i should have known.
that's the way it goes i guess. i really can't complain. i have been able to watch more ball this year than ever. what's the big deal about missing tonight's games and the championship (due to softball)? really? not much in the grand scheme of things. but we don't live in the grand scheme of things, do we? we live in the day to day and we are very lucky if we can spare even a few minutes to think about "what is to come". and most days, that's ok.
today? i'll be a little raw that my wishes, as they relate to college basketball, came true and i won't be able to give the wish-granted my undivided attention. but by the time my head hits the pillow tonight, all will be right with the world again and i'll start hyping something else up in my head. something to get me out of bed the next morning with anticipation and excitement. something silly in the grand scheme of things.
but we don't live in the grand scheme of things, do we?
i guess that's what i get. 143-9! the combined records of the four one seeds that will play in the final four tonight is 143-9. no drake. no butler. no gonzaga. even no davidson (although, listen. stephen curry won me over, too.). there aren't any "cinderella" stories to speak of, thank god. it's been funny and fun listening to espn drum up human interest stories and fictional conflicts between roy williams and the school he left behind to take the place of having an underdog to pimp. what we have today is simple. it's the best final four. ever. never have all the number one seeds made it to the final four. never until today. and where will i be? the freakin' store.
now, i am not asking you to cry for me, argentina. i am just bothered with myself. after intentionally scheduling my last two weeks with an eye towards maximum ncaa tourney watching, i posted this week's hours for all to see when something else must have been forefront in my mind. how else could this have happened? granted, i post my schedules eleven days out, so the sweet sixteen had yet to be played. i didn't know at the time that i was putting myself in danger of missing the five, best hours of basketball this college season (maybe any college season) would have to offer. maybe, subconsciously, i figured a davidson or louisville was going to crash the party anyway, therefore lessening the potential excitement, but i should have known. i should have known.
that's the way it goes i guess. i really can't complain. i have been able to watch more ball this year than ever. what's the big deal about missing tonight's games and the championship (due to softball)? really? not much in the grand scheme of things. but we don't live in the grand scheme of things, do we? we live in the day to day and we are very lucky if we can spare even a few minutes to think about "what is to come". and most days, that's ok.
today? i'll be a little raw that my wishes, as they relate to college basketball, came true and i won't be able to give the wish-granted my undivided attention. but by the time my head hits the pillow tonight, all will be right with the world again and i'll start hyping something else up in my head. something to get me out of bed the next morning with anticipation and excitement. something silly in the grand scheme of things.
but we don't live in the grand scheme of things, do we?
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
elicit-tastic
yesterday, sarah shared with me a bit of news from the children's place that stirred me from my otherwise normal day. i don't think i am breaking any sort of confidence by forwarding this on to the blog, but if this post disappears sometime this evening, then you'll know i was wrong. moving on. evidently, a infant/toddler was sent to the daycare wearing a onesie with a phrase containing the word "fuck" blazed across the front. as you can imagine, i was ecstatic. my reaction ranged from "that is awesome." to "can i have the parents' number so i can date them?" to "where can we get caroline one of these onesies?". you may judge my reactions as sophomoric, immature and stupid if you'd like. you'd probably be right.
needless to say, it being a "church" daycare (a stance only seriously taken in situations such as these when when it fits the daycare's argument), everyone went into ape-shit mode. i will remove the names of those involved to prevent anyone (read: myself) from getting into trouble, but reactions in and around the hallways of the children's place ranged from "we've got to kick this kid out." to "we don't need these types of families in our school." (mmm. that's good church-speak.) to something along the lines of "this makes me want to have this kid here more so that we can play a role in raising them in a way that doesn't include this type of language." (thank god for sanity) personally, i would hope that my church's role in this child's upbringing doesn't completely clockwork orange all the "fucks" out of him, but i understand and appreciate the last sentiment much more than the first two.
because this is where we are. as a church. as a society. as a culture. and i, myself, am happy to be here. amidst the conversation. amidst the controversy. i wonder how you or anyone else might react if you saw an infant wearing the clothing in question. would you laugh because you thought it was funny? would you be offended like some of the daycare staffers were? would you be convinced that this was yet another sign of the fall of man? maybe some of all of these. maybe none. how would you react? and the better question is, "why?"
every so often, something like this hits us at the core of who we are. we react to it and that reaction goes a long way in defining our upbringing, our beliefs, our convictions and where we are headed as individual human beings. our reaction to something like a toddler wearing an "offensive" shirt calls into question if the shirt is a good or a bad thing. a funny or a foolish thing. the product of a parent that considers themself "cool" or a parent that is using their child as a tool to buck "the system" or "the man" because they don't feel like their voice, alone, is loud enough to be heard. but the way that we react says much, much more about us than it will ever say about the parent that put it on and most definitely about the oblivious child that is sporting the bad-ass-ed-ness without the ability to comprehend the hi-jinks that will ensue because of it.
so, what, ultimately, does it say about us? well, obviously it says something different to each different person, and that is part of the beauty of life. it is much easier to react like cattle and say something politically correct like "we don't need this type of riff-raff infecting our fine, upstanding institution of babysitting." it is much more difficult to take the picture with a widescreen lens and try to understand everything that led up to that child wearing that shirt on that day. to try and understand that it probably wasn't a stand-alone act of rebellion. that it could be something as simple as choosing the wrong vehicle for a poorly thought-out choice or something as complicated as a cry for help.
for me, i wish i was so brave to send caroline or hannah to school in something so garish that it would elicit a phone call from the chidren's place brass. alas, i am not. i blogged a long time ago that i hardly ever wore one of my favorite shirts because i didn't want to offend anyone. i am not the offending type. but offending and knowing why something is offensive are two, entirely different things.
the more unwilling our church or any church is to determine why something like a toddler wearing a shirt that says "...fuck..." is "offensive", the less relevant we become. the higher the wall between "us" and "them" is built. and the more exclusive our "club" is perceived. it's a shame. that toddler's shirt could have been the catalyst for a brilliant debate and discussion. instead, it devolved immediately into "us" versus "them", the two sides being argued by people that share the same sanctuary on sunday mornings.
thank you, "parent that will never be allowed to dress their child again", for showing "us" another example of how far "we" have to come.
yesterday, sarah shared with me a bit of news from the children's place that stirred me from my otherwise normal day. i don't think i am breaking any sort of confidence by forwarding this on to the blog, but if this post disappears sometime this evening, then you'll know i was wrong. moving on. evidently, a infant/toddler was sent to the daycare wearing a onesie with a phrase containing the word "fuck" blazed across the front. as you can imagine, i was ecstatic. my reaction ranged from "that is awesome." to "can i have the parents' number so i can date them?" to "where can we get caroline one of these onesies?". you may judge my reactions as sophomoric, immature and stupid if you'd like. you'd probably be right.
needless to say, it being a "church" daycare (a stance only seriously taken in situations such as these when when it fits the daycare's argument), everyone went into ape-shit mode. i will remove the names of those involved to prevent anyone (read: myself) from getting into trouble, but reactions in and around the hallways of the children's place ranged from "we've got to kick this kid out." to "we don't need these types of families in our school." (mmm. that's good church-speak.) to something along the lines of "this makes me want to have this kid here more so that we can play a role in raising them in a way that doesn't include this type of language." (thank god for sanity) personally, i would hope that my church's role in this child's upbringing doesn't completely clockwork orange all the "fucks" out of him, but i understand and appreciate the last sentiment much more than the first two.
because this is where we are. as a church. as a society. as a culture. and i, myself, am happy to be here. amidst the conversation. amidst the controversy. i wonder how you or anyone else might react if you saw an infant wearing the clothing in question. would you laugh because you thought it was funny? would you be offended like some of the daycare staffers were? would you be convinced that this was yet another sign of the fall of man? maybe some of all of these. maybe none. how would you react? and the better question is, "why?"
every so often, something like this hits us at the core of who we are. we react to it and that reaction goes a long way in defining our upbringing, our beliefs, our convictions and where we are headed as individual human beings. our reaction to something like a toddler wearing an "offensive" shirt calls into question if the shirt is a good or a bad thing. a funny or a foolish thing. the product of a parent that considers themself "cool" or a parent that is using their child as a tool to buck "the system" or "the man" because they don't feel like their voice, alone, is loud enough to be heard. but the way that we react says much, much more about us than it will ever say about the parent that put it on and most definitely about the oblivious child that is sporting the bad-ass-ed-ness without the ability to comprehend the hi-jinks that will ensue because of it.
so, what, ultimately, does it say about us? well, obviously it says something different to each different person, and that is part of the beauty of life. it is much easier to react like cattle and say something politically correct like "we don't need this type of riff-raff infecting our fine, upstanding institution of babysitting." it is much more difficult to take the picture with a widescreen lens and try to understand everything that led up to that child wearing that shirt on that day. to try and understand that it probably wasn't a stand-alone act of rebellion. that it could be something as simple as choosing the wrong vehicle for a poorly thought-out choice or something as complicated as a cry for help.
for me, i wish i was so brave to send caroline or hannah to school in something so garish that it would elicit a phone call from the chidren's place brass. alas, i am not. i blogged a long time ago that i hardly ever wore one of my favorite shirts because i didn't want to offend anyone. i am not the offending type. but offending and knowing why something is offensive are two, entirely different things.
the more unwilling our church or any church is to determine why something like a toddler wearing a shirt that says "...fuck..." is "offensive", the less relevant we become. the higher the wall between "us" and "them" is built. and the more exclusive our "club" is perceived. it's a shame. that toddler's shirt could have been the catalyst for a brilliant debate and discussion. instead, it devolved immediately into "us" versus "them", the two sides being argued by people that share the same sanctuary on sunday mornings.
thank you, "parent that will never be allowed to dress their child again", for showing "us" another example of how far "we" have to come.
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