jesus and friends
(and goodnight, braves)


it probably wasn't clear to braves reliever kris medlen when he came into the games on wednesday and thursday that he was playing the role of bobby cox's proxy and shutting the door on atlanta's underwhelming season. two consecutive sixth inning meltdowns in winnable games marked the end of the road for this infuriating team. had they closed out both? last night's representative loss to the reds would not have been crippling. but they did. and it was. time to wait 'til next year.

i have not always loathed bobby cox. mostly, during the braves magnificent run of success not so long ago, i was indifferent to him. those braves teams didn't seem to win or lose because of bobby cox. they won because of starting pitching and a supernova of a switch-hitter in chipper jones that all opponents feared. last season and this season have felt different, though. it feels like the braves have lost their share of games and games in the standings due to incredibly boneheaded moves and non-moves made by their "manager", and by "manager" i mean the now comically disproportioned older gentlemen that occasionally finds a way to get thrown out of the game. all the players seems to have tremendous respect for cox, still, but i wonder how much of that is respect for a romanticized version of him from back in the day. this year, he has been nothing to love. he ruined jordan schafer's development. he has consistently refused to juggle his line-up in accordance to who may be struggling or who may be hot. his blind loyalty to kelly johnson and jeff francouer early in the season handicapped the line-up in a way that made the braves feel like a triple-A team after chipper and mccann. his most indefensible crime, though, has been the handling and feel for his team's pitching staff. the braves came into the season with it's deepest starting pitching rotation in years, but, as i noted early in the season, there was not one among the bunch that could carry the staff or that was a severe threat to throw complete game shutouts. that being said, the bullpen and when to make "the call" there and whom to call would end up defining the vast majority of the braves' failures this season. the last three losses have, again, illuminated the problem. wednesday and thursday, medlen was trotted out in the sixth after having pitched on tuesday. for a tenured reliever, this may not be an issue. for a rookie that has spent his baseball career as a starter pitching every four to five days and had been lit up on the second day of his last and only other back-to-back days effort, it was. he was horrible. the braves gave up leads, lost games and opened the door. friday night was lowe that was left out one inning too long. but it could have been javy. or kawakami. or jurrjens. it's happened to all of them. left out one inning too long only to give up the lion's share of their runs in that last inning and pulled after it was too late. on friday night, it ended up being lowe, and the braves turned out the lights and walked out that door, closing the book on any realistic shot of making the postseason.

bobby cox can't make guys hit. bobby cox can't make chipper not suck over the last two months. but he can and is fully responsible for keeping his team in games and with leads that their starters have afforded him. and in this regard, he performed miserably this year. i bite my thumb at you, bobby cox. enjoy the offseason.

to those starters and mccann and yunel and martin and diaz and sori and gonzalez and moylan and chipper of may and june that kept me interested in the braves for much longer than i was last year, i say "thanks". it was a good ride. i'll get excited again next spring when jason heyward comes to camp looking to claim his rightful place as the true heir to dale murphy's empty throne in the braves outfield.

for now?

when one door closes in life and in sports, another door opens. welcome back, college football.

more on that after tonight's game.

roll tide.

"to all the girls i've loved before..."


the ballast for fulfilling my hopes and dreams returns tonight.

no, not You.

you're so vain, Jesus.

hugs and kisses, timmy. know that i love you...win or lose.

my fantasy team is better than yours
(part three)






i can't imagine that (m)any of you chose to retain any of my posts from this time last year referring to my fantasy football dominance. that's ok. i am here to remind you.

i went undefeated on everybody's ass.

i played humble as long as i could until the above referenced link, and i just couldn't contain myself after the deed was done. it was righteous. it was incredible. it was everything that i would've ever imagined. and it was good.

i had won fantasy titles before. heck, i had even been the way-superior team in the league before. but i had never gone undefeated. no one ever goes undefeated. at least, not in leagues that i've played in. but, i went undefeated. and i am here to remind you...

...because this year i will be terrible.

this isn't me lou holtz-ing my team immediately after the draft like my buddy whose names rhyme with miss and terry are wont to do (i've gotta get my shots in now, right cp? ;)). this isn't me setting my expectations low so that i will look ever the more glorious as i leap above and beyond them. this is me telling you that i don't usually believe in karma, but i so believe in karma when it comes to fantasy sports.

everything, and i mean everything, went my way last year. my draft position was perfect. all of my fliers worked out. my rookie running backs last year are all going to be top 10-15 picks this year. in the one game i was in jeopardy of losing, i won due to the "bench points" tie-breaker (only those that play know how ridiculously rare that is). and in the last game of the season, the championship game, my opponent mirrored my lowest point total of the year with his own, and i snuck to the title through the back door.

and, so it goes.

the buck has already began to stop. i've never drafted any lower than six in my league. late tonight, i will be drafting nine. i've only once ever drafted anything other than a running back with my first two picks (that year i finished 6-7 and got knocked out in the first round of the playoffs). at nine, there will be no "elite" backs available and i will be forced to adjust my tried and true strategy. do i take wide-receiver? that doesn't sound right. a top-two quarterback? well, that'd be nice...i guess. still doesn't feel right. my draft is going to be magnificent agony, for the entire hour and a half i will doubt myself and my picks. i am already preparing for the fall from last year's peak.

to be sure, i will still try very hard. harder and with more ferocity than any human should put into an online "game". and that effort will get me into the playoffs. that effort will keep me interested.

it just won't get me undefeated. or a title.

i love fantasy football.

this made me laugh
(thanks, rebecca)





oh, church.

...a penny for your trash bag.


it wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to us. far from it. after all, we had "enjoyed" eight and 1/3 innings of a live and in-person braves game from ridiculously good seats before the rains came. that, in and of itself, was reason enough to be happy and one with the world, irregardless of the fact that the braves only hit through six innings had come from their pitcher. yes, just being back at turner field for the first time in over a year should have been plenty to quench my soul given all that we, as a family, had been through over the last couple of months, and that doesn't even take into account the brick-headed move it was for bobby cox to leave javy vazquez in to face hanley ramirez after he was clearly gassed and give up what would be the game-deciding home run. just being there, with good food and good family, should've been enough for me to get over and past the things that didn't, exactly, go our way and drive home in a good mood.

but, of course, it wasn't.

oh, how i wished our "new normal" didn't feel, on friday night, so much like the old and selfish normal.

caroline had been sick the night before and into friday morning, putting the trip into jeopardy to begin with. around noon, we decided that she was in good enough health and spirits to make the trip. we hit atlanta, well, we hit atlanta traffic still in no rush or hurry, and caroline was holding up quite nicely. we made it to rebecca and emma's pad, and, aside from the traffic-related headache i had acquired, we were still rocking along. made it to turner field easily thanks to daniel (the british man's voice on the garmin), found our seats, and then things started to sour. caroline enjoyed running around the concourse of the stadium very much. being contained in mommy's lap or the ground directly in front of mommy or in a seat with emma? not so much. the braves, predictably, were terrible. the bobby cox thing happened. laroche cheered me up for half a second. and then the rain came. a lot of freaking rain. i began texting back and forth with katie to see if we had any chance of the rain breaking before we made the half-mile trek out to the car. we didn't. rebecca, following the lead of many others, pays a trash guy two bucks for four trash bags that we'll wear as ponchos. the plan is for me to carry caroline the half-mile in the rain with her blanket over her head. she'll have none of the blanket. two kind gentlemen notice this and offer their now priceless extra trash bag to us for caroline. i rip a head hole in the bag for her and put it on. and we march. and march. and march. caroline begins silly, sinks to sad and pathetic, and ends the journey to the car in misery. i am convinced that i have ripped my insides back open and decide to join her misery with my company. i get in the car, caroline on my lap, and we save sarah, rebecca and emma about 50 yards by driving to them. we all get in the car, laugh off the experience as something we'd never want to do again and head home. we get back to rebecca's place and drop them off, thank rebecca for the tickets and do not get out of the apartment complex before caroline vomits all over herself.

i.

shit.

you.

not.

it wasn't as much a straw that proverbially broke my back and spirit as it was the stench of cheese fries and ice cream (admittedly, probably poor choices for a two year-old trying to shake off a stomach virus. we were at a ballgame, though. whatareyougonnado???) mixed with stomach bile. i whirled the car back around, at this point fuming. i knocked on rebecca's door and asked for vomit towels at first, going back a second time to ask for a blanket for caroline to hold onto on the way home since hers had been soaked with the cheese-fry puke. we said our good-byes again, and headed back to birmingham.

on the road home, it rained. and rained. and rained harder. and then it rained some more. i would grow somewhat comfortable with our conditions and then, of course, would hydro-plane. is hydro-planing the worst effing feeling or what? in that brief millisecond, you are sure you are going to die. you have zero control. it is complete chance that your tires either will or will not regain traction before the car spins righteously out of control.

speaking of chance, i felt like job. satan, up in the heavens playing his own personal game of roulette with my and our stakes. land on red? ruin his silly baseball game. land on yellow? make someone in family feel as though it makes rational sense to pay a trash dude for trash bags. they will then wear the trash bags. land on white? oh, god, not white. cue the toddler vomit. and if i didn't mention it earlier, it was cheese-fry vomit.

and god would be like, "christ, satan! give the brother a break. he just wants to get home."

cue satan spinning the wheel of misfortune again. bwahahahahaha!

and so, sarah asks the inevitable question. "did you have fun?"

and i, like the dick that i am, gave the inevitable answer. "not really."

i would like to think that my "new normal" would prevent me from having these lapses in sanity (because, four days removed, i can see that i did have a good time), but i guess it doesn't. i said "not really" and then listed all the reasons above to her. she said hearing that made her sad, leaned back in her seat in silence and, immediately, i regained my positive perspective.

but it was too late. sarah had experienced everything above with me, and yet, she looked through it all and asked me if i had a good time, wanting to reassure me that she was glad that we shared the miserable experience together. i, on the other hand, wanted everyone to be as unhappy as i was. and that's too bad.

i suppose i could come up with any number of excuses as to why i reacted like such a boar. misplaced and mismanaged expectations, things of that nature. but they all would be just that. excuses.

post-cancer, i had a good week at work and spent the past two days telling everyone i could how great i was feeling. then, this morning, i backslid. i saw a mole in the shower that i had never noticed before, came downstairs, got on the internet, and began trying to convince myself that "the other shoe", the one that would actually "get" me, was going to be skin cancer.

for several days last week, i wasn't a dick. then friday night, with some of those i hold most dear around me, i backslid and was a dick to them.

i am going to be a better man eventually. i still have a lot of work to do.

dear lord, let me help you...

...help me.

first day of school
(part two)


no, you are not mistaken. hannah did, in fact, start school last week. and, for that matter, caroline will be bumped up to her new class tomorrow. it was me that had that first day of school, queasy feeling as i headed into the store this morning.

i wasn't quite sure what to make of the feeling. lord knows that i am ready to get back into a routine that doesn't involve family feud being the highlight of my day (although, i do love me some feud!). i didn't ask for three weeks off. had i, the three weeks would have been spent doing something fun and i would've subtracted pain and inconvenience from the equation. i got the three weeks off anyway, though, and walking into the store felt exactly like i thought it would feel, like i had been gone for six months and not just almost one.

if i take a couple days in a row off or even go crazy and take a long weekend, the store suffers. that's not me tooting my own horn or me ragging on my staff. i love them all and they do great jobs most of the time. things just aren't quite the same or quite as efficient when i am not there. productivity dips. things are a little less straight. a little more finds its way through the cracks. driving in this morning, i think most of my anxiety was rooted in how much "we'll just wait 'til kevin gets back" that i would find.

i found plenty.

to be fair, the store didn't burn to the ground. my other managers stepped up in ways that my micro-managing self might not have allowed had i been around, and, in that regard, all parties, myself included, probably grew up a just little bit while i was away. it wasn't that i didn't trust them. it was that i trusted myself more. a flawed way of thinking, but my ways of thinking often are. no, the store didn't burn. not even close. there was some drama that'll have to be addressed (isn't there always?). some customers that were rubbed the wrong way (ditto). but nothing was broken that can't be fixed, and, boy, i do love fixing. fixing and hating the braves is what i do.

and so, tomorrow, there will be less to worry about. tomorrow will still be filled with "hey! welcome back!"'s, but i am ok with those. they make me feel warm. but tomorrow will feel more normal, and normal is something i've been searching for for a while now.

how normal at work will fit into our "new normal" will be decided as we get farther into things, but i am excited to find out.

and i am excited that think we've almost gotten past the point where every post here on HACAM feels like a diary entry.

not that there's anything wrong with that.

goddammit!!!


and with that expletive followed by my fist pounding the counter after the braves blew game one of their huge weekend series with the phillies, i may have just turned a corner.

i'll start back to work in a couple of days. monday, the 17th, would and will mark my return to what was and has been my normal routine for over three years now. but up until the braves reminded me why i hate them last night, i had been fairly nervous at the thought of getting back into the store. reason being, i haven't felt "right" yet, and i wasn't sure i ever would. since sarah went back to work last week, i've been trying every day to get up and about, trying to recondition my body into some semblance of shape knowing that it wouldn't be long before i had to actually earn a living again. and each day, i have been fighting a terrible feeling of dizziness mixed with headaches mixed with feeling "off" in such a way that it was really starting to freak me out. every night i would have an easy enough time falling asleep, but every night i would wake up sometime in between 2:00 and 3:00 in a panic. still waiting for the other shoe to drop, i would convince myself of all things terrible that could still be lurking in my body. i would scare myself with thoughts of how much or how little time i had left with my family. i went to the doctor this past wed. afternoon and told him my fears. he reassured me that, outside of the whole losing a kidney thing, my long-term prognosis was really good. he told me what i was feeling was normal. so did sarah. and sarah's dad. and kiker. and anyone else that bothered to hear me whine. but, what did they all know, right? they all had two kidneys. they weren't feeling what i felt. they couldn't possibly know what i was feeling, and they couldn't possibly tell me anything that would make my fears go away.

thursday night, sarah finally got fed up and dosed me with benadryl, hoping to drug me into a good night's rest. and it worked. and then yesterday, i wasn't quite as dizzy. i had a good daddy-day home with caroline (with a little help from amy and katie since i am, technically, not supposed to be lifting caroline yet). a good dinner with the family. and around 9:00, what do you know? i was cussing at the television again. for the first time in two months, i actually gave a damn about something other than myself. something trivial. something fun.

sure, i hate the braves. but, i love hating the braves. hating the braves is what i do. or used to do. until,...you know.

and so, maybe i turned a corner last night. or maybe i am setting myself up for a magnificent fall back to reality when the dizziness comes back in the morning.

either way, these last two days have been nice.

braves are tied 2-2 right now. they are going to lose. it's a matter of when, not if.

i hate the braves.

first day of school

...i had another breakdown saturday afternoon. hannah and i were finishing up wall-e, wall-e and eve had just reconnected back on earth, and the same rush of emotion that struck while watching "the wedding dance" hit me again.

hannah was laying on top of me. i told her that i needed to get up. sarah looked up at me to see what i was up to. i looked at her, my eyes welled up, and it was over. i walked a couple of steps over to sarah and away from hannah, because i didn't want her to see me getting my blubbering idiot on. trying to contain the sobbing, some of the noises making their way out of me must have sounded like laughter. i remember hearing her ask sarah, "is daddy laughing?" i wasn't and, soon enough, she got the idea. a few minutes into the episode as i was beginning to compose myself, i felt something from behind me. hannah got up off the other couch, walked over to me, and covered me up with the blanket she had been using. i turned to her, tears still filling my eyes and held my arm out so that i could give her a big hug. the gesture, itself, would have been heartbreaking if my heart was not already broken. instead, in that moment, it was exactly what i needed to re-ground myself, compose and move forward with the day, the first order of business making sure i had not just scarred her for life.

...the surgery provided the reason"the out" that i needed to explain the emotional vomit away. we told her that my stomach was hurting and that seemed to ease her greater concerns. we threw in kung-fu panda and settled in for the rest of the afternoon. all in all, it was a weird day, but it turned out to be a really good day.

...this sweet-hearted, now truly big girl started school today. not "school" as we've defined it over the last four years. not daycare. not pre-k. elementary school, beginning with five year-old kindergarten. mrs. wells is her teacher. mrs. wells seems very nice and more than capable. mrs. wells seems to already be taken with hannah. no big surprise, right? look at that picture! she's just beautiful. but she's more than that. she's very smart. thoughtful. most of the time, reasonable. caring. she's a mobile "thin place" (that's for you, kathy). she's growing into being a wonderful big sister. and without hesitation or prompting saturday afternoon, she did what she could to take care of her daddy.

...i don't remember any of my first days of school. not one. definitely not kindergarten. i'll remember this one, though. i'll remember it and cherish it and attempt to dwell on it when the darker stuff tries to sneak in.

...hannah, i am so proud of you and how you handled this day. thank you for caring for me in ways you don't fully understand yet.

...i love you.

...(please forgive the spacing issues. grr, blogger!!)

so long, spud jr.


to those that saw it (and marveled at his owner's neglect), it wasn't pretty. but in every way it was a carwreck, one that you couldn't take your eyes off of. and yet, monday, it was removed. the tumor/cyst/whateverthecrapitwas that my oldest cat had been carrying with him for many a year took a trip to the dumpster monday afternoon. spud's not speaking to reporters on the matter yet, but i think he's a more handsome cat for it. may it increase his and our quality of life for a while. you're welcome, spud, and i am sorry for being a horrible owner.

if working at psp has taught me anything, it is that pets are a magnificent distraction to their owner's lives in good ways and bad ways. and we need magnificent distractions. all of us do.

as i try and draw out of the haze of my last month and a half, i search for my next distraction. should i read more? take up walking? let andy talk me into one of his remaining adoptable puppies? play bunko? poker? buy a ps3 and spend the fall of 2009 hearkening back to the "good old days" when i wasted hundreds of hours of my life on madden and mvp? maybe i should let chip take me hunting, acquire the taste for "the kill" and tune in with nature while waiting around in the woods for my next helpless victim to fall prey to me and whatever i would name my gun...most likely "keyser soze". i need and am searching for something. i am open to suggestions. what do you think?

i am thinking about sacred cows.

i am thinking about pink elephants.

word of life the worship center.

huffman.

east lake.

what does it mean that trussville baptist looked around at schools that they could help and decided on chalkville elementary?

why did costa's bbq on chalkville mt. not work?

what are you searching for? i am looking for something tan-gi-ble.

magnificent distractions. tangents. detours. relative, to what? exactly. if working at psp has taught me anything, it's that ak-47's are overrated. it wasn't my life that flashed in front of my eyes that night. it was a dream. a facade. things that didn't matter and won't. it was alabama football and braves baseball and ribs and softball, because he was never going to shoot. at least, that's what i tell myself now.

looking down the barrel of that tumor, i didn't and don't see distractions. i did and do see sarah, and hannah and caroline and kiker and andy and my brother(s) and my family and my friends that i could go weeks without seeing or talking to but don't want to anymore. i saw what's now left of my church. i saw those that have made themselves happier by leaving us. and i saw that it was all good.

if what we talked about last night was what "you" are searching for, maybe we overextended ourselves in the 80's and 90's. and this today we are living in, this moment, this is the "course correction". maybe we became something perverted from the point. a show or a soap opera with a heart of gold and good intentions, but still a show. and this today, this moment, what if we are, only now, realizing the truth.

you are spinning (out of control) the truth, no?

possibly. i've never not been stupid. i've got to think this through. why remove the questions that seem uncomfortable before you make copies? i don't know. turn around.

magnificent distractions.

the "new normal"


i've spent an unhealthy amount of time in front of the computer on this, my first day of my "homebound" week. i've read many articles. digested, oh, so many columns. processed many pictures. and given myself a headache.

oh, and i also watched this again.

you've seen it. it's the wedding party entering in to chris brown's "forever". i don't know where i was, actually, that linked to it, but i went and watched the whole thing over again.

and i cried like a flipping baby. i am not talking about my eyes teared up at the joy that was seeing two people in love joining together with their friends to breathe new life into an old ceremony.

from about the 2:00 mark on, i was bawling. like someone i loved dearly had passed. and i have no idea why. maybe sarah or some other psycho-analyst can read the tea leaves and tell me what might have been going on in my head at the time. in my opinion, i was releasing...something. it felt kind of good. and kind of weird all at the same time.

goodness.

so, yeah. i think i am still coming to terms with the whole having "had" cancer thing.

hannah and caroline and my sick one kidney


well, it's been a heavy month, yeah? at the beginning of july, i was on antibiotics for what my primary care physician coined a "really bad infection". two days after beginning the antibiotic, the only symptom that has presented itself throughout this entire endeavor began to clear up...only to come back a few days later.

and then the trip to see a urologist, dr. wade. i was with him for less than an hour, but the news he shared with me would change my outlook on life, if not my actual life, forever. a mass, now confirmed to be malignant, was found growing inside my right kidney.

whoa.

three weeks later, i find my way to the hospital to have the kidney removed. a day later, i receive the best news possible, that the tumor is completely contained and isolated in the kidney, the cancerous cells having not even moved into the margins of the affected organ. the doctor tells us to "celebrate" the good news. we take a deep breath. we move on to recovering from the surgery, itself.

the last week has been a trying one. i have never experienced consistent pain like i have over the last seven days. i went without pain medication for the first time last night. my staples have been removed. i am still a week away from driving, probably over two from returning full time to work. i am not very good at just sitting around. my mind goes to too many dark places.

i am ready to get out of the house again. ready to spend some time with friends again. ready to play softball again (even though that's several weeks off). that being said, this week has been a unique one at home. sarah and i don't have a whole lot of time to ourselves anymore. and even though she's been playing the role of nurse, it's been good to have the time.

it's kind of sad that this weekend will mark the beginning of a return to our new normal. i won't have my first follow-up scan for three months. after recovering from surgery, it will be back to business as usual for a while. by time for my next panic attack, hannah will have started kindergarten. wow. my big girl. caroline, hopefully, will be just a little less "terrible" as she turns two. i'll eventually get back on the field. we'll be getting ready for advent and a trip to georgia for some turkey and dressing. kinda weird. life marches on. i guess it's time to get back on the train and stop feeling sorry for myself.

i hope things will be less heavy here. HACAM hasn't been a whole lot of fun over the last month. and i hate that. this is one of my truly enjoyable escapes, and i want to get back to talking some about the braves that are trying to maintain my interest and the beginning of the college football season being close enough to taste at this point.

let's face it, though. my life and this blog has now seen it's "game-changer". here's hoping that i can incorporate my and our new normal into what used to be a lot of fun around here before the kidney thing went down. there are too many good and relevant things going on in my life that will affect my girls' lives not to make note of them, right?

no more whammies.

hannah and caroline and my sick kidney
(part three)


short and sweet this time around. my day-before-surgery "preparation" will call me back to the bathroom soon.

i am feeling ok about things this afternoon, and i thought it might be worth my time to document that. i worry. that's what i do. i can't claim that all of the fears that have ravaged my imagination and led to night after night of bad sleep are no longer there.

but fear is such a silly thing anyway, isn't it? the way that it manifests itself to me is probably different than you. and that's natural, of course. more than anything else in the last three weeks, i've been reminded at how immature my faith still is. how, in spite of immersing myself in the bible and church and god for the last ten-plus years, i could not have felt and feel more inadequate or unqualified at the thought of having served as a spokesman for god for the last however many years. people should listen to me, why? i probably know more bible trivia than most of you. fantastic. that hasn't helped me at all the last three weeks.

the only thing that has helped has been grasping, with new understanding and enlightenment, that i am not in control. but that there are many, many people (probably most that i've never even met) praying for me. for my health. for my peace of mind. for a calmness. for my family. for my future. all on behalf of a god that i know loves me very much. what a gift. what a gift that i will never be able to pay back. pretty overwhelming.

my surgery will be at 7:00 tomorrow morning. i know you will be there with me.

talk to you soon.

good-bye, right kidney. we had a good run. i am sorry you decided you'd be better off serving as fertile ground for some silly mass/tumor/whatever it ends up being. where did that get you? homeless, that's where. homeless and alone.

i am glad i am not alone.

hannah and caroline and my sick kidney
(part two)
((to the beach))


after the doctor broke the news to me a couple weeks ago tomorrow, we moved to scheduling what would and will be the inevitable. the surgery. he asked me if i had any "big plans" over the next couple of weeks that he would need to take under advisement when finding a good time to remove the kidney with the big mass in it. the only thing i had going on was our family long-weekend to the beach, i told him. he talked to his assistant and came back with the date of july 23rd. i told him that i'd be more than happy to postpone or cancel, altogether, the trip if that enhanced my chances of a full recovery. he appreciated the notion, but told me i would be fine to go and it would probably be good for me and my family to have the trip to take my mind off the procedure and recovery to come.

leaving that thursday, i wasn't sure what i should think about having to wait three weeks to have the surgery. was he just allowing me the vacation because he knew (and i worried) that it would probably be the last vacation i would ever get to take??? thankfully, i've been told otherwise and i've let (most of) that irrational fear go.

a lot has changed inside my head over the last two weeks. i've gone from being a complete and total emotional wreck to almost coming to terms with the idea that i am going to be fine. "fine" will be different than how i might have defined it this time two weeks ago. back then, "fine" definitely would have included having two kidneys. since then, though, i've heard story after story about people living long and healthy lives with one after having the other removed. i've heard stories about people being born with one kidney. and i try and remind myself many times every day that doctors would not allow people to donate kidneys if you couldn't get well enough along without one.

no, missing a kidney will be different than missing my appendix or tonsils. but if my grandmother can do this, i can freaking do this, right? i told that grandmother and my aunt today, when they stopped in the store to say "hey", that 99 percent of my last few days i feel very good about my future and my new "fine". yet, there is still that 1 percent that sneaks in and scares me when i least expect it. i guess that may always be a part of my new "fine". or maybe, some months or years down the road, that may go away too. i hope so. i pray so.

and so, tomorrow we go to the beach, the first time sarah and i have traveled anywhere since our honeymoon for several consecutive days that wasn't with a group from the church or with other family. not that all of those trips weren't incredibly special in their own right, but i think the timing of this trip and the way in which it will be unique will be good for all of us. i really do.

i don't know if i'll promise another update before the surgery. i am sure when i am home and have way too much time on my hands while mending, i'll make up here for all the lost time. as cool as documenting each day leading up to the big event may have seemed last week, not thinking about it quite so much has been cooler.

maybe if my anxiety isn't registering too high next wednesday (while i am at home "preparing" for the surgery), i'll drop a quick note in to wish myself and my girls and my blog well. if not, though, i beg of you for continued good thoughts and good prayers if you have the time. and i thank you for any moment that you have spent with your mind towards my and my family's situation the last couple of weeks. i've told several people over the last few days that i truly believe much of my current peace of mind has arrived via the power of prayer and the miraculous ways that god allows for us to speak to him and one another without ever saying anything out loud.

i am completely floored and flattered that you would share a moment of your time with and for me. thank you.

time to go get a sunburn.

hannah and caroline and my sick kidney
(part one)


nine days away from the blog just may be a record for me. i am not interested enough to do the research to find out or not, so we'll just agree that it's been a while.

i don't have a ton to say today other than i felt like i wanted to, at least, open this topic up here in an effort towards wrapping my head around the idea of documenting the next couple weeks leading up to my surgery and then during the recovery portion of the program.

(to those that this post might serve as an announcement, i was diagnosed with a mass in my right kidney last thursday that will require the kidney's removal on july 23rd. if it catches you off guard, i do apologize and only ask for your prayers and positive thoughts for myself and my family over the next few weeks as we dig in and take this unexpected news and realize it now as our new normal. the word "normal" has never felt so weird and foreign to me as it has the last few days.)

there have been moments (and i know there will continue to be) over the last few days, that this discovery and "what it all means" to my life moving forward has completely taken me over. the panic attacks that i've been able to rationalize away for the last however many years are not pushed back so easily anymore. having tangible evidence presented to you that says "something is not right here" is just the thing that i've always worried about. i suppose my approach has been something along the lines of "if i take my umbrella in with me, it won't rain." that being, if i thought negatively enough about what could go wrong, maybe all those negative thoughts and mental torment would be a fair substitute for something actual. note to self: that didn't work.

i've been told that the mass/tumor being there is just a bad break relative to my age. i've been told that i am lucky that if something like this were to show up in my body, at least it happened in a place where i have a capable replacement waiting to carry the full load. i have been told by my doctor that i will be considered for the rest of my life in the same way any kidney donor would. i'll be monitored, sure, but i'll drink the same things, eat the same things, and do the same things i am already used to doing. in my rational moments, i can accept this train of thought. there is a part of me that thinks i could even embrace it at some point. i have no doubt it my mind that had i two healthy kidneys at my disposal and one of my family or friends needed an extra, i would be the first in line to step up and offer one for the greater good. no problem. today, i hope and pray for this best case scenario.

i have many more irrational fears that i won't go into detail with today. maybe later. maybe not. we'll just see. most of them center around if i was so unlucky to have this mass form in me at such a young age, do all the other more favorable percentages actually apply to me anymore? i am sure they do. i hope they do. that's just what i fear. i hope that's ok. and i want, more than anything, for someone to prove my fears silly sooner rather than later.

this journey will have it's ups and downs, just like any journey in life. i know that. i hope that soon i can provide testimony to those whose own peace of mind might need it that something quite scary can be turned into something quite positive.

i don't know if i've ever believed "everything happens for a reason", but i do believe in god, his son as my savior, the power to heal and the power to grow wise through experience, good and bad.

this is bad. but not so bad that it can't be overcome. i am going to overcome it and i'll be better for it. please help me see this through.

i love you, my wife. i love you, my beautiful girls. i love you, my friends that are already caring and praying for me.

this is not the end. this is just a new chapter.

a quick post-mortem


so, did you watch?...

what did you think?...

brazil was just better, right?

color me just as surprised as any fan rooting for the huge upset with the us' first-half performance. not only were both goals completely legitimate and not fluky, but they were, in fact, wonderful pieces of soccer. as i mentioned last post, clint dempsey has tons of talent, and it took every bit of it to put the deft touch on spector's cross and redirect it towards the back of the net. even more impressive was the back and forth between landon and davies, ending with a money finish by landon, often criticized for padding his "goals scored" with penalty kicks and infrequently scoring during run of play. seriously, the second goal was just magnificent, and with those goals accompanying the truth that was every touch by benny feilhaber, i could feel the upset in my toes. i even did a lap around the kitchen with both my hands raised after going up 2-0.

and then brazil woke up.

the difference between the spain match and today's was the early us advantage was a genuine product of them outplaying the more talented brazilians. i didn't get the feeling that brazil was coasting. but one could totally understand the thought (if it was there) that they might not need an a-plus effort against a squad they torched just over a week ago.

i can imagine being in the brazil locker room at halftime. i can visualize the coach of brazil calmly addressing his team and telling them to attack. and they did. just over a minute into the second half, brazil scored. and they took off from there. not a moment played out in the last forty-five where the us felt like the better side. the talent from brazil just screamed out of the television. kaka and robinho and luis fabiano were dominant. and try as they may, and they did try, the us was no match.

my only complaint may be an ignorant one, but i only hope, that after being used off the bench for the first four games of the tournament, benny had run out of gas when he was taken out of the game with fifteen minutes to play. he (and landon in spots) was the most composed us player on the ball all day. sharp with the ball, i only remember him turning the ball over once. and to my surprise, he was pretty tough on defense. taking one of only two true playmakers off the field with the balance still up for debate made little sense. again, i'll just hope that he didn't have anything left in the tank.

i wished for a competitive match to watch, and it was that. moving forward and back into qualifying for a return trip to south africa next year will provide bob bradley with too many tough decisions. is right back now spector's position to lose, or will cherundolo be the guy now that he's getting healthy? is charlie davies in the long term plans? how does benny not play all game every game from this point out? have we really seen the last of demarcus beasley?

the team that showed up for the last three games of this tournament should, theoretically, mow through every qualifying opponent and clinch their spot in next year's world cup sooner rather than later. will they?

i hope so. if nothing else, the last couple of matches have gotten me excited again about us soccer. i couldn't have said that this time eight days ago.

tough loss, but a deserved one. keep moving forward.

anatomy of an upset a lucky result based on good effort and the other team not showing up


chris perry has already tempted me to try and correlate us soccer's unexpected victory over soccer giants, spain, wednesday afternoon to the possibility of huffman (church) pulling the same type of upset over it's current situation and defeat...something. but i'll not do it. not today. well, not in this opening paragraph anyway. we'll see where this goes.

the victory was stunning in a lot of ways, but not so stunning in others. let's take a look.

(pause while half of the six people that read this blog check out because i am going to ramble about something they care nothing about)

(they'll be sorry when i bash the new preacher late in the post)

ok...we're back. here's the take home point to the glory that was the triumph wednesday afternoon. it shouldn't have felt so surprising.

for years now, us soccer has been touting "project 2010". the idea behind it being that, four years later, every ounce of potential and energy would be squeezed out of the developing young players that disappointed in the 2006 world cup. that roster would be infused with even newer and more exciting talent coming through the us soccer pipeline. qualifying for the tournament, itself, would be a breeze and nothing more than an afterthought to the ultimate goal. to "compete" in the 2010 world cup as if us soccer had "arrived". the us would never be the favorite, but the world would not see the us knocking off stiff competition as fluky, moreso an announcement that this country must now be understood as a legitimate threat and consistently be found in the top ten of the fifa world rankings. it hasn't worked out that way.

the roster at this week's confederation cup is not drastically different than four years ago. our best player is still landon donovan, and he still isn't good enough (unfortunately, his age now suggests he never will be) to force his will on another team. and therein lies the biggest problem. the us guy doesn't have a star position player. not one. the us always has a quality, if not world-class, goalkeeper, and this team is no different with tim howard. but a goalkeeper can't win games for you. he can only keep you in them. to win the games you must find a way to use your available resources in a way that trumps the other team's resources. in that regard, the us is always behind the eight ball. on paper against big time teams, our talent is nowhere close to a spain, england, brazil, etc. not close. the us does not have one world respected player not in goal. not one! using the idea of and the goals set forth by project 2010, the us is failing to make the global impact necessary to be a legitimate power.

so, where does the fault for this lie? who knows. it makes no sense to me that we can't develop a left or right back that can go forward and impact a game like a sergio ramos from spain. it makes no sense to me that, with all the kids in this country that play soccer growing up, we still haven't found a replacement in our midfield for tab ramos, the last us player that always looked comfortable with the ball at his feet, even in traffic. it makes no sense to me that we can't develop a striker with more skill than "man, he's strong. look at that jozy go. too bad he can't dribble." or a guy that's only good in the air. is it how we train? is it a lack of quality competition once you graduate high school in this country? it's not that we don't have athletes. we have guys that can run. we have big, strong defenders. to use a baseball term, we just don't have any "five-tool" guys. guys that can do everything well. landon's as close as we have, but he has too much of a tendency to disappear into unselfishness when he finds himself in "big" games.

here are the highlights to wednesday's upset...

tim howard - freakishly good, as he is capable of being every game.

oguchi onyewu - terribly solid. controlled the middle most of the game.

landon - wasn't a superstar, but has played two consecutive solid games.

the so-so's...

jozy - his goal was one good, strong turn and a lucky break from the spanish goalkeeper. he kicked the ball right down the middle and the keeper was leaning wrong. otherwise, he turned the ball over way too much. goal counts, though.

michael bradley - never exciting, but did his job for the most part.

rest of the backline - solid, bend-don't-break defense all night.

the one shining moments...

clint dempsey - he is the yunel escobar of this team. lots of talent. unfortunately, is aware he has lots of talent. allows talent to carry him only so far. never actually exploits talent to carry him to next level. has the potential to own this team. will never happen. got lucky that sergio ramos lost him for the second goal. can thank benny and landon for getting the ball to him.

listen, i appreciate the team's effort, but spain was the better side all game. way more talent. way more possession. way more chances. way more shots.

but in soccer, none of that matters if you can score the first goal. after that, you can defend like crazy with ten guys (like the us did, give them credit for that) and make it immensely difficult for the other team to score (which the us did, give them credit for that).

and so it happened. an underachieving soccer country (based on it's own goals) lived up to it's stated potential for one day. the true test will be sunday when they play a team in brazil that's just as talented as spain and will not take them for granted. when they play a team that has already embarrassed them 10 days earlier. if they can beat brazil sunday, now that will be worth an epic post.

as for the humc comparisons, we'll hold off on that. currently, the church doesn't have anything like project 2010 to measure itself against. we are trying to work out of "project...hey, what was our project again???". when we start setting goals and making plans for our future, maybe then we can compare ourselves to us soccer.

'til then, watch the game sunday afternoon and you tell me, score notwithstanding, who the better team is/was. if my man, benny, gets to play the whole game, the us will stand a better chance of being in the conversation.

do you hear me, bob bradley? benny feilhaber for 90 minutes, please!!!

hey, he didn't say anything about the pastor!

would you just go watch some soccer?!?!?

"that's just the way things are...
(...that's just the way it is now")


i would argue that you don't know the true meaning of father's day until you've heard your five year-old daughter sing a rancid song right along with you on your way to church. it really is the little things in life, isn't it? no. not usually. 'cause i would consider hannah singing a ska track by one of her daddy's favorite bands pretty damn big. this, mind you, followed hannah presenting me with my official father's day gift, a t-shirt with a big ass guitar on it. also very cool.

when i grow up, i may still become a dad whose kids get him socks and a tie on father's day. today, it's quite the pleasant feeling that hannah wouldn't even have reason to think of something so boring as these as an offering to this, the most current iteration of her "daddy".

as my own personal character arc and redemption story continues to find it's footing, this morning officially saw our church beginning a new season after her severe and umpteenth course-correction. as fun and celebratory as last week felt, vacation bible school sunday was the pilot with the big budget, if you will. this morning was episode one. producers cringe in the corner of their office biting their fingernails. what will people think when the pomp is removed? how will this circumstance, the one that will and should feel like most services, feel? like something worth getting excited about? like something worth coming back for? like something worth giving a few weeks to play out? like "well, that was ok, but we'll probably try another channel next week."? like, well, what?

week one felt stressless, for one. from the sound booth, i would make sure the four speakers could be heard (check.). i would take some mental notes for the post that was sure to follow (check.). and i would try and soak it in and feel like i was worshipping for a change (half-check.). i think one of the weird things about the position i've put myself in (completely on me. believe me.) at my church is i don't feel like i worship anymore. i enjoy singing the hymns loudly and proudly. i affirm my faith and make intentional attempts to change the inflection in my voice so as to escape falling prey to a monotonous and empty-headed routine. after that, all bets have seemed to be off. wanting nothing more to feel like everyone is on the same page and moving together to create a wonderful service, for years now, i sit and wait for the first and next mistake.

awesome. they're reading the wrong scripture.

why are we singing the wrong song?

why is he singing again?

wow. really? another verse.

that prayer request you gave me about the dead young man. where did i put that?

why is that mic not on?

why is that mic still on?

don't bring up your last mistake. don't bring up your last mistake.

cripes. that joke wasn't funny at all.

geez. they just referenced the bad joke again.

didn't i see that story in an e-mail forward?

did they just not credit snopes?

that communion server dude just sneezed into his hand...after the blessing of the sanitizer.

note to self: don't go in that dude's line.

it's simple folks. we don't move 'til after the cross leaves.

and so on.

it's been a horrible way to spend the worship hour. i know it. sarah knows it. my family that i share most sunday lunches with knows it. my friends know it. but i can't get out of the cycle. it's just been too easy to anticipate and see the same trainwreck happen week after week after week. we can't seem to get out of our way. and we can't seem to care, collectively, enough to try and fix the problems.

and so, thanks to the itinerant system we pledge to, we course-correct. start all over. hop back to the future with someone that's bound that be good-hearted and just open-minded enough to accept us, flaws included. with someone that will want what is best for our church and what is best for our "family". with someone that will have a philosophy that's different from "the last guy" but not so different that we have to go baptist or something (zing!).

if this morning's any indication, we have a product that is worth selling. a product less piano man, less serious voice and (hopefully) less D-R-A-M-A than what we're used to. which, in my opinion (which counts for jack-zero), are all good things. i pray that we move into our "first 90 days" with honest effort and expectations and go from there. no goal-setting just yet. maybe just a hope that, sometime in the future, we'll be well-oiled to the point of not having to pay attention to the trees anymore. a hope to see the forest again. man, that would be nice.

(sings hannah) "that's just the way things are...that's just the way it is now." (faded hornline)

"you're so money and you don't even know it."


there's a good chance that you are missing something special that's right here, under your nose. if you are a casual or committed visitor to this page, you may or you may not have tried out any of the links to your right in an effort "to pass the time". if you have, you've probably noticed that most of the blogs that i've linked to never update. you may also have noticed that i refuse to believe my favorite nfl player of all time doesn't share a relationship with my favorite team anymore. to the former point, though, if the lack of updates have caused you to stop checking one blog in particular, well, then, i am here today to tell you you're missing out.

scrolling down a page and following directions can, sometimes, be tiresome, so i am going to do all of the work for you. every link you'll need to be in the know and join in the fun will be connected to this post. don't you worry.

now, what the hell are you talking about?

i am getting to it. i just want to make sure and not sell the effort short, because the effort of it all is what truly mesmerizes me.

a young man, jacob sutton, that found his way through my youth group at huffman is currently hiking the appalachian trail. not part of it, mind you, but his goal is to hike the entire freaking thing!

now, at this point in our respective lives, i would call jacob a friend. i think he would probably say the same about me. i hope so. a relationship forged initially with me in the role of mentor and him figuratively under my wing has transitioned (as most of those relationships have) into one of mutual respect and admiration. one that has no problem finding bad to decent mexican food to serve as catalyst to conversations ranging from recalling the "good ole days" to wondering what this crazy life is all about already.

having said all of that, i will say that i don't know jacob inside and out, and there are parts of him that i don't fully understand.

first and foremost, why on god's green and mountainous earth would he want to spend five months out in the forests of several states traveling on foot to godknowswhere, maine??? this mystery, above all others in my life currently, is keeping me up on some nights, on those nights that i choose to think too hard about it.

to me and in my own very narrow-minded opinion, there has got to be something tangible that drives jacob and others to do such a thing. as cool and critical to whomever's life experience i could be thinking about right now, this is something different than a month spent overseas, studying and soaking in a culture different than your own. i know the two experiences share parallels, but they are...different. different in ways that, both, are amazing and fun for me to think about. different in ways that convince me i have very little interest in mirroring either type of experience.

similar in that, to a homebody like myself, they both incite the always present question of "why?" and "wheretofore?", the answers to which i find most fascinating and enlightening.

where is jacob going? and i don't mean, "where in maine...?"

why is he going? and i don't mean to hear, "because he can."

what is there to find? it surely can't just be about the bears, right?

and maybe it is. and maybe it's not. that's all part of it. and i love that he's doing it. because i never could. because i don't like being wet. and i don't like bugs. and i hate when my feet are sore. and i think mountains are god's way of telling me that i should go back to where i came from. and i know that unless it's about sports or fistfights, i am a pretty whiny little girl.

i am comfortable in my own skin, love it or leave it. when i have traveled in my life, the experiences have only illuminated that i am where i am supposed to be. some birds need to fly away to find themselves. some only need to be punched in the face. count me in the second group. and count me happy to say that with confidence at a relatively young age. i don't begrudge the flyers. i only hope to understand them more. at least, those that i care about.

jacob is a flyer, and i only wish to understand him more.

i feel lucky that he's opened up this journey for "all the world to see". it's likely you have no idea (at least yet) that he's gone. you do now. you can know more too if you are interested.

turns out, it seems like one of jacob's many talents is seeing the world as a camera might find her. click here for proof.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/jacobdsutton/

turns out, it seems like one of jacob's many talents is describing his voyage on the good ship "AT" in a way that makes you feel like you are there with him. click here for proof.

http://trailjournals.com/jacob

i am quite aware of the many, many books that have been written about the appalachian trail, it's history, it's purpose, it's champions, it's detractors, the victors, the spoils and every life that's been touched and published because their feet touched that dirt. i don't know those people, though, and they don't really interest me.

i know jacob. he is quite interesting. and so i am living the journey, his journey, vicariously through him in the hopes that i'll know him better when and if he ever comes home. i'd invite you to do the same. i would tell you that it's worth your time. he is, after all, one of us.

that hasn't always mattered, but maybe it should. and maybe that might help solve some of our problems going forward. how will you know if you don't give it a shot, right?

jacob has a long way to go, yet.

he and i, both.

care to follow?

if a preacher preaches on his first sunday at his new church and i am not there to hear it, does it really happen?


abso-freaking-lutely, it does!!!

to a (wo)man, every person that i had the chance to ask about today's service gave it a resounding thumb's up. i heard a few grumbles about some sound glitches, but vbs sunday can be a bear to technically prepare for. we'll just have to prepare better next year. whatareyougonnado now, right?

what made my sunday is that, in the past (especially if i was the one reviewing the goings-on), the sound problems would have been the story. what everyone remembered. what no one could get past. and what i would lose sleep over that night. to the worship leader's and congregation's credit, that doesn't seem to be the case this afternoon.

the story was vbs, and i didn't even have to be in the sanctuary to know it. more cars in the parking lot. non-member kids in their blue vbs t-shirts streaming into the church. the lack of significant attrition between the service attendance and the lunch attendance. the buzz was palpable, even through the torrential downpour. it was all about the kids. and the workers that made the kids happy this week. and the stories that the kids and the workers got to share through songs and slideshows and participation in "big church".

oh yeah...we welcomed a new pastor into the fold today too. i'll let the mere fact of that piece of news not being the lead item in this post speak for itself. from what i hear, he stayed humble and true to his role and made sure all the focus was directed toward the kids. {golf clap} good show, sir. well played.

the softball team and i will make hamburgers and hot dogs for you every sunday (on katie and amy's dime, of course) if we knew that's what it would take to turn this sunday into a microcosm of who we are (and can be) as a church.

there's that word again.

i really do hate that i wasn't inside today, watching hannah swallow some anxiety and making a personal leap, herself. i was where i was supposed to be, though. it feels like we all were. rain or shine.

for one day, i am happy.

so, i guess we've got a new pastor, huh?


it's really hard to believe that there's only one day left in vbs, 2009. the week has flown by, seemingly faster than ever before. is that really the case? no, of course not. it's the same length as it always is and has been. each day passes quickly. the storytelling room's schedule started us every morning with a weird hour long "break". so, when the groups have finally come, they've come back to back to back to back and then the day is over. maybe that, moreso than any other reason, is why the week has scurried by in such an awkward feeling way.

and so, this time tomorrow, all will be done (with my part, at least) until 2010, the first year hannah will be eligible to come to the elementary-age storytelling room. that will either be a treat or a nightmare. i guess we'll just have to wait and see how much the big girl matures during her first year at big school.

as i walked into the sanctuary this morning, i stumbled across our sprc chair and new pastor, brother harris hand. the meeting was refreshingly underwhelming, as it very well should have been. i have had mixed feelings about the departure of chris d. over the last month or so, thoughts that i've chosen to keep mostly to myself. if i didn't, someone might tell me to look in the mirror again, and, really, i can't stand my crooked teeth. "the church" was ready for a new pastor. i think chris d. needed a new start too. but i don't know if i'd truly characterize my feelings over the new start and the run-in this morning as something so cliche' as a "breath of fresh air" as much as i may say it felt "nice". yes. friendly and nice. not altogether different than the first time i met forest lake's new pastor.

we'll see where this new road takes us. we'll see if we can make good, on both sides, on our "first 90 days" promises. we'll see if we can be open and honest now rather than, again, once it's too late.

for now, though, i don't really care. for tonight, i am happy at having had such a wonderful week with the kids of huffman and the kids of humc. thanks to tanya and stephanie for having me back. thanks to everyone (joseph, joe c., christina, cookie, katie, amy) that's played such a huge role in the storytelling room. you all are incredible! and thanks, ms. myles, for the best compliment anyone has paid me in a long time.

i love vbs.

hannah and caroline and me
(part thirty-one)
((when unfair doesn't seem to cover it))


more than likely, you don't know marvin smith. shoot, i don't really know marvin smith. marvin was best friends with a young man on my staff.

after the 2008 softball season ended, we kicked off pick-up basketball just like we always do. i sent e-mails out. tried to get commitments from guys to play 6 out of the scheduled 8 games we always play in the birmingham baptist association's men - 19 and over basketball league. some guys waivered or said they would play and then e-mailed me or sent word with someone else that they were too busy to make the commitment. that's fair i guess. it's never not frustrating. i have a hard time reconciling why everyone in the world wouldn't want to play church league basketball and softball as badly as i do. but they don't. and i get burned by thinking they should at the beginning of every sports season we embark on. i'd like to think that it's unfair to me. there is a small and selfish part of me that thinks, "well, i've been rocking and rolling with these teams for close to ten years now. sometimes you show up. sometimes you don't. sometimes you pay. sometimes you don't. it's never really any skin off your back, right? the least you could do is make the team a priority or give me just a little notice that i need to look elsewhere to fill your spot." like i say, it's small and selfish, and i don't dwell on it any longer than i feel like we're short or short on money, but it bothers me anyway.

well, after enough commitments and decommits that would make even your most seasoned recruiter belabored with the process, i asked my employee, jacob, if he'd be interested in playing with us. he jumped at the chance. he had heard me talking about the team for a couple months and was dropping hints left and right that he could play and he could bring one of his buddies with him if we needed him to. finally, tired and ready to take the stance of "i'd rather have too many than too few like we had last year", i told jacob to come on out and bring his buddy with him.

that buddy ended up being marvin smith. the night i met marvin he was at the gym before anyone else. he was soft-spoken. slender. nice as he could be. we shot around and warmed up just like we always do. i jotted down a brief scouting report in my head concerning what i thought marvin could add to the team. "he's a slasher. jumps really high. can get his own shot. rebounds hard." he would fit right in. that first night, he and i went back and forth (along with a couple other guys) lighting the opposing team(s) up. marvin and i were on opposite sides most games and found ourselves guarding each other for a lot of the night. not knowing each other's tendencies, inevitably he gave me too many open looks from 18 feet that i nailed and i gave myself way too much defensive credit thinking that he couldn't take me off the dribble (he could...any time he wanted.) basketball-wise and personally, he had my respect immediately and i felt like i had his. late in what was probably our fourth game of the night, i drove to the basket. marvin was playing centerfield, middle of the lane. as i approached him, i leaped and threw up and over him the most perfect teardrop shot i've ever made. his hand was stretched well above the rim and from my vantage point, i had no idea how i got the ball past his fingers. the ball fell softly through the net. i smiled at him. he smiled at me and said, "you're a player".

i am not, but he was sweet to say it and i was lucky that i was having a good night. that night was the most fun i had all season. marvin and jacob, both, ended up playing in all eight games with us. for the most part, we were terrible. never had a consistent group show up. never developed any real chemistry. never really understood our roles. it was tough. we played good teams close in a few games, but we still lost. a lot. it was miserable. i had never been so happy to finish up a season. but as we put our sweats on and headed out after our last game in early february to head our separate ways, we were able to joke about how bad we were. i thanked marvin and jacob for filling out our roster and told marvin i'd be seeing him around (he still owed me money) or i'd come find him.

marvin died in a car accident early, this past saturday morning. i'll never see him again.

i didn't really know marvin, but when jacob told me about his accident, it struck me to my core. i was at the store saturday night and i had to walk in the office and close the door a couple of times to compose myself. "fuck me.", i thought. he was only twenty years old. just getting started. just finding his way. just working and trying to to pay a few bills and trying to act like a grown up.

and now he's gone.

i think of marvin all the time. just like i think of every guy over the last ten years that i've shared a green jersey with. since my initial small group experience with chris and andy, nothing has come close to recreating that most personal and honest experience that i shared with those guys for the short time that we did it. nothing except my humc sports. so many guys, so many stories. so little significance to be found in whether we won or lost. it's always...always been about the experience. and that experience, including every frustration that has come along with it, has made me ten times the man today than i was when we started it so long ago.

marvin smith was everything good about that experience. the guy was a perfect stranger to us in late november. a perfect stranger that could feel that first night, i hope, that the game wasn't as important as us being there, together. it was never articulated, but an atmosphere like that, that we've cultured for close to a decade doesn't have to be noticed aloud. you can just feel it. marvin, the good young man that he was, was a perfect complement to that atmosphere. he didn't have to tell me he was a good guy. there on the court that first night i met him, i could feel it.

marvin will be missed. by a lot of family and friends and others that knew him. i didn't really know marvin, but you can count me in that number.

twenty years old.

fuck me.

rest in peace, brother. rest in peace.

hannah and caroline and me

(part thirty)

this picture just as easily could have been taken at east lake park in 1984, as long as you'll let your imagination pay no attention the actual ages of the actors cast in the frame. sarah's dad is my grandfather. allison, my grandmother. hannah, playing the role of my little brother, brian.

caroline is me, feet crossed, nowhere near the water or the worms, looking across the way at the playground equipment thinking (in liz lemon voice), "i want to go there."

hannah and caroline and me

(part twenty-nine)

the visual evidence to back up sunday's post is absolutely terrifying!

i mean...christ!!! she's holding a worm in her hands that looks to be over twice as long as her fingers!

gross.

but cute.