inventory
(hannah and caroline and me, part thirteen)
some words don't have much of a chance, do they? some words are so soaked in negative connotation, they have little chance of ever bringing a smile to our face when we utter them. there are good words. pizza? mmm. i am smiling. football? a little bit of warm just traveled from the tips of my toes to the tops of my ears. beach? yes, wave, you may crash on top of me. and then there are bad words. homework? jeez, dude. don't you know dancing with the stars is on tonight? chores? no, really. i'd love to clean out the cat pan this time. coldplay? christ. and i thought u2 took themselves seriously. inventory? oh, god. not inventory.
the birmingham/tuscaloosa market of pet supplies "plus" has been sold to a group from michigan. this group already owns and operates four other psp's and will be looking to put their stamp on us sooner rather than later. to do so, they'll, of course, need to have an accurate inventory on their books to know what we have and what we need to get to start shaping our stores in the same mold that their stores have found success. that inventory is tonight. ugh. i'd tell you that i was excited, if by excited i meant that i was going to be forced to listen to the new coldplay album (again). i am working myself up for it to be far worse than it will be just as i do with everything. i don't even have to do much, if any, of the actual counting. i will just have to help clean up the store after the rgis inventory company destroys it doing their thing. inventory is just one of the pains in the neck that i never got to experience until i found my way to retail. it's a necessary evil. one that i can't avoid. one that i might as well suck it up and find a better attitude about. t-minus nine hours 'til go time. here's to finding a fake smile for my face.
as i (and we are) am wont to do, i'll use any real life excuse to get into the figurative part of my brain. spending time with (my side of the, for once) family will help accomplish that mission with ease. the last month has been a heckuva month for taking inventory on what i do and what i don't have when it comes to family. beginning the weekend of my and sarah's sixth anniversary, we had good times and normal times and not-so-good times with almost every important character in our family's story. good times with rebecca and emma. good times with sarah's grandfather and aunt and uncle. really good times with brian. normal (in a good way) times with sarah's mom and joseph. normal times (in a normal way) with my mom and ken. normal times (in a not-so-good way) with dad. back to good times with my grandmother and my aunt and my uncle and their loving family. not-so-good times with hannah. wonderful times with hannah. normal (in a good way) to wonderful times with the baby, baby girl. normal (in a good way) to great times with the wife. and that about covers it. pretty vague, huh? i guess so. sorry about that. i find that some of these posts find their way into being conversations in and of themselves. some of these posts find their way into being intended to start conversations somewhere way down the road. this is one of those posts. and therefore, probably not very interesting altogether.
inventory is a pretty ugly word, in my mind, most every time i use it. sure, there are good reports, reports that make you comfortable that you are doing a pretty good job at whatever facet of life that you are taking a scientific look at. but there are always bad reports too. reminders of, whether i am talking about my store or my story, there is a lot of room for improvement. goals that i can attain if i add a little extra effort. aisles that can look a little sharper and be a little more up to date. lives that can be touched in a deeper, more meaningful way.
inventory is an ugly word but a necessary word if i am being truthful about never wanting to be stagnant and always wanting to grow. to get better. to be better. to want better.
i hate inventory.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
if i was going to buy cocaine, i don't think i'd get it from jimmy johns
"why would he do something like that?"
"what was he thinking?"
"doesn't he understand what kind of opportunity he has?"
"how many chances can one guy be given?"
"why, jimmy?"
i don't know.
these and other questions have been asked since news broke that failed university of alabama mega-recruit, jimmy johns, was caught selling cocaine to the entire tuscaloosa police department tuesday. the first thing that i wondered was probably racist, but i wondered this. i wonder if a (alleged) partially literate, athletically gifted, black athlete really thinks in terms of chances when it seems as if no one has ever told him there is a limit to how many he actually gets. that was my initial, (most likely) racist thought. after stewing over it, i should and could just as easily drop the "black" from my question and the thought remains the same. it's not just black athletes that get preferential treatment. depending on what school is recruiting you, depending on what need you could fill for some pro sports team, it doesn't matter if you are black, white, american, european, etc. for someone, some school or some organization to rationalize long lists of misdeeds away if you can still benefit their cause at hand. could be football, could be basketball. could be baseball. wrestling. soccer. all of it is relative to who deems what important.
in this state, football is important. you don't have to follow alabama football closely to know johns' story. mr. football in mississippi comes to bama with all the promise in the world. he's going to be the next this or the next that. blah. blah. blah. turns out he had a pretty serious attitude problem and didn't get along very well with coaches/authority figures. he wasn't going to get a solid chance at playing quarterback, so he pouted. he couldn't take control of the running back position because he was never really a running back. and so, this spring, nick saban put him where the team needed help most. linebacker. don't worry about learning plays or schemes, jimmy. don't worry about blocking for your quarterback. see the ball. go get the ball. just hit somebody. and by all accounts, he could hit people pretty good. one ex-teammate said of johns that he was the most "talented" football player he had ever been around. and this came from a guy that played in the sec for four years. unfortunately, he didn't have a lick of sense. he had less of an education. and he didn't seem like he trusted anyone enough to listen when they told him he was making poor and selfish choices.
as it relates to the team, bama may have just rid itself, passive-aggressively, of it's last shula-era troublemaker. let's face it. jimmy john's was not going to be an all-sec performer. he would have been a serviceable back-up and he'd be really good at jumping up and down when he came on the field to get the crowd jacked, but the tide is not losing a special piece to the gameday puzzle.
his story, though, and those like his remain fascinating to someone that doesn't live in that world. the world where rules don't apply to you. or in extreme cases, rules are rewritten for you because you are just that damn good at one sport or another. it must be an amazing ride while it lasts. you can totally see how someone, especially some young person, that comes from limited means and education could get sucked into the make-believe world of big fame, big money and little accountability.
but what happens when the machine spits you out? where will this guy or guys like him be in five years? it's not like alabama football fans will care. who will? it's an interesting question. one that, honestly, i am glad that i never had to answer because i was too nonathletic (read: white). lord knows how many stupid temptations i succumbed to ten or so years ago that had nothing to do with the sports that i have always loved a little too much.
turns out jimmy johns wasn't much better at selling cocaine than he was at living up to his football "potential". here's hoping things get better for him after he gets out of jail.
and here's betting that they won't.
"why would he do something like that?"
"what was he thinking?"
"doesn't he understand what kind of opportunity he has?"
"how many chances can one guy be given?"
"why, jimmy?"
i don't know.
these and other questions have been asked since news broke that failed university of alabama mega-recruit, jimmy johns, was caught selling cocaine to the entire tuscaloosa police department tuesday. the first thing that i wondered was probably racist, but i wondered this. i wonder if a (alleged) partially literate, athletically gifted, black athlete really thinks in terms of chances when it seems as if no one has ever told him there is a limit to how many he actually gets. that was my initial, (most likely) racist thought. after stewing over it, i should and could just as easily drop the "black" from my question and the thought remains the same. it's not just black athletes that get preferential treatment. depending on what school is recruiting you, depending on what need you could fill for some pro sports team, it doesn't matter if you are black, white, american, european, etc. for someone, some school or some organization to rationalize long lists of misdeeds away if you can still benefit their cause at hand. could be football, could be basketball. could be baseball. wrestling. soccer. all of it is relative to who deems what important.
in this state, football is important. you don't have to follow alabama football closely to know johns' story. mr. football in mississippi comes to bama with all the promise in the world. he's going to be the next this or the next that. blah. blah. blah. turns out he had a pretty serious attitude problem and didn't get along very well with coaches/authority figures. he wasn't going to get a solid chance at playing quarterback, so he pouted. he couldn't take control of the running back position because he was never really a running back. and so, this spring, nick saban put him where the team needed help most. linebacker. don't worry about learning plays or schemes, jimmy. don't worry about blocking for your quarterback. see the ball. go get the ball. just hit somebody. and by all accounts, he could hit people pretty good. one ex-teammate said of johns that he was the most "talented" football player he had ever been around. and this came from a guy that played in the sec for four years. unfortunately, he didn't have a lick of sense. he had less of an education. and he didn't seem like he trusted anyone enough to listen when they told him he was making poor and selfish choices.
as it relates to the team, bama may have just rid itself, passive-aggressively, of it's last shula-era troublemaker. let's face it. jimmy john's was not going to be an all-sec performer. he would have been a serviceable back-up and he'd be really good at jumping up and down when he came on the field to get the crowd jacked, but the tide is not losing a special piece to the gameday puzzle.
his story, though, and those like his remain fascinating to someone that doesn't live in that world. the world where rules don't apply to you. or in extreme cases, rules are rewritten for you because you are just that damn good at one sport or another. it must be an amazing ride while it lasts. you can totally see how someone, especially some young person, that comes from limited means and education could get sucked into the make-believe world of big fame, big money and little accountability.
but what happens when the machine spits you out? where will this guy or guys like him be in five years? it's not like alabama football fans will care. who will? it's an interesting question. one that, honestly, i am glad that i never had to answer because i was too nonathletic (read: white). lord knows how many stupid temptations i succumbed to ten or so years ago that had nothing to do with the sports that i have always loved a little too much.
turns out jimmy johns wasn't much better at selling cocaine than he was at living up to his football "potential". here's hoping things get better for him after he gets out of jail.
and here's betting that they won't.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
trending back towards the trivial
(that is, if you consider someone dying trivial)
"i could listen to george carlin for an hour and it would make me happy for a week." (hey! like a good worship service. mmm. a good worship service.)
there were many positive things said about george carlin in the wake of his passing yesterday. comedians loved the man. considered him a god of their craft. and there is no better judge of the way that someone lived their life than the regard that is bestowed (or not) upon them by their peers. carlin considered himself detached from the rest of the human race. the better for him to look at us with a finely tuned eye and skewer most of the things that we hold dear. race, religion, politics, sports. nothing was taboo. no subject was too sensitive to tackle. at his best, he was the voice inside all of our heads saying all of the things that we are too scared to say ourselves. at his worst, at least he was still trying.
there aren't many outlets in life that allow a person to be brutally honest, no matter the weather. and that's a shame. it's a shame that what set carlin apart from the rest of the world was that, while on stage, he let it all hang out. his inner monologue was on full, profane display for all of us to hear and see. and what did we do in the face of all this, this...honesty? we laughed. we laughed because we could and can pretend that he was talking about everyone but us and we knew what he was saying was spot-on. either we laughed or we "acted" like we were offended because he cussed a lot. "what right does he have to say that?" "you don't know me."
yeah, whatever.
in my life, there are things that make sense and there are things that don't. no big revelation there. i am the same as everyone else. one of the things that doesn't make sense anymore, though, is how, for the most part, we are so unwilling to make efforts at being self-aware. how we are so unwilling to be honest with each other. sure, it might sting initially, but wouldn't it be worth it? i am not looking down at anyone. i am looking in the mirror.
this lack of honesty. this lack of awareness. this "you people are too stupid to realize i am making fun of you" was george carlin's schtick. and it was funny.
and it's also pretty sad.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YphEUa5LPjM
thanks for making me laugh and think, george
(that is, if you consider someone dying trivial)
"i could listen to george carlin for an hour and it would make me happy for a week." (hey! like a good worship service. mmm. a good worship service.)
there were many positive things said about george carlin in the wake of his passing yesterday. comedians loved the man. considered him a god of their craft. and there is no better judge of the way that someone lived their life than the regard that is bestowed (or not) upon them by their peers. carlin considered himself detached from the rest of the human race. the better for him to look at us with a finely tuned eye and skewer most of the things that we hold dear. race, religion, politics, sports. nothing was taboo. no subject was too sensitive to tackle. at his best, he was the voice inside all of our heads saying all of the things that we are too scared to say ourselves. at his worst, at least he was still trying.
there aren't many outlets in life that allow a person to be brutally honest, no matter the weather. and that's a shame. it's a shame that what set carlin apart from the rest of the world was that, while on stage, he let it all hang out. his inner monologue was on full, profane display for all of us to hear and see. and what did we do in the face of all this, this...honesty? we laughed. we laughed because we could and can pretend that he was talking about everyone but us and we knew what he was saying was spot-on. either we laughed or we "acted" like we were offended because he cussed a lot. "what right does he have to say that?" "you don't know me."
yeah, whatever.
in my life, there are things that make sense and there are things that don't. no big revelation there. i am the same as everyone else. one of the things that doesn't make sense anymore, though, is how, for the most part, we are so unwilling to make efforts at being self-aware. how we are so unwilling to be honest with each other. sure, it might sting initially, but wouldn't it be worth it? i am not looking down at anyone. i am looking in the mirror.
this lack of honesty. this lack of awareness. this "you people are too stupid to realize i am making fun of you" was george carlin's schtick. and it was funny.
and it's also pretty sad.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YphEUa5LPjM
thanks for making me laugh and think, george
Saturday, June 21, 2008
father's day
(part two)
((jesus christ! can't you just talk about the braves?))
i've touched on the idea of "how well do you ever really know someone" on this site before. the conclusion that i've always come to is pretty simple. you don't. maybe with a couple exceptions, you don't really know anybody. what you know and who you know of someone is nothing more than what any person decides to share with the rest of the world. snippets here. a couple "secrets" there. but nothing too personal. nothing too private. nothing too scary. nothing more than you need to know. it's obviously easier to digest that way. how's the weather? what did you have for lunch? what are you doing this weekend? did you hear chipper hurt himself running too hard again? who gives a shit? really? what does any of it matter? nothing, of course. and everything all at the same time.
for it's the slips from this norm when they happen that enlighten us to someone's true character. i can only imagine the first time a portion of the youth group at huffman heard me unleash my very blue tongue. "what did he just say???" "i think he said motherfucker." "can a youth director say that?" um. i don't know. let's go ask l12." but from that moment, from that slip, everything changed, right? no longer would i play the role of the closest example these young persons had to christ. i would just be kevin. human just like them. walking in the same direction. maybe a little further down the road. but we'd be working with each other along the way. i wouldn't be any better than them. they wouldn't be any worse for wear. it was what it was. now, this is just one example. the longer i was at huffman, the more slips there were. and the more the young people got to know me, the farther the cat got out of the bag that maybe this guy wasn't the best influence our money could buy. maybe we shouldn't really condone halo nights and family guy. that arc of my story ran it's course, and, as you all know, i moved on to something else. failing (depending on your definition of fail) fabulously with chris perry in huntsville.
which brings us back to today's main and surely elementary conflict. we are incredibly complex individuals, every one of us. each of us has incredibly varied experiences and adventures that define who we are on any given day. our lives make for good stories, sure, but each of our lives contain a complex metanarrative, a story about a story, that will never allow another human being to accurately define us. we, as fallible people, may have gone through similar situations, but every metanarrative is different. just like a snowflake. and this is why the "you don't know me" defense is so hard to crack. to one end, if you have offended a person to the point where they have to play the "you don't know me" card, technically, you should stop. because they are right. you are wrong. they played the ace up their sleeve. game over. it's infuriating, but it's true.
so now comes the tricky part. because some relationships carry such emotional weight and impact, certain things are bound to happen even if a particular character's arc has run it's course in your story. for example, let's pretend (remember, this is just pretend.) my father and i stopped talking for some reason unbeknownst to the both of us. a decision is made. a line is drawn. his character is pulled away from having an active role in the story of my life. in a perfect world, i would move on. find some other relationship to fill the void that remains from the energy i used to pour into actively loving and relating to him. in a perfect world, i would move on and find someone else. or several people. however many it takes to fill those shoes. in my metanarrative, though, i don't replace the void with something tangible. i replace it with a new story. one that i am making up in my head as i go along. in my complex and parallel life that is tangential to my real world, my father is still a character that is very real and very impactful in how i think about the world and how i react to real life situations.
do i know my (pretend) father anymore? well, no. of course not. i don't even talk to him. how could i know him? but knowing him in reality doesn't stop me from defining him. and the same goes for a number of people in my life that aren't really there but are still located in the synapses of my brain that make me feel something for them. even if, from the outside looking in, it seems completely retarded to do so. if we are still pretending to talk about my father, we might as well understand that the things i say about him here could just as well be written as a fictional story by someone that never knew the man. my and my brother's experiences have helped to shape the character in my head. but let's be honest. nowadays, it's just a character.
the fact of the matter is that i never really knew the man. his own story got in the way. scratch that. his own metanarrative got in the way. to make his real life better, some players that tried out for his story didn't make the cut. others did. once those roles were defined, the real-life story moved on from there and there was nothing i could do to stop it. i didn't get it at the time. and i don't want to get it now. i don't want to get my feelings hurt when "fictional" people throw themselves back into my real life in a way that is contrary to how i've romanticized them in my head. they don't know any better. they can't see the "big picture", because it's not their big picture.
i am no philosopher. i don't want to be. the more i think about stuff like this, the more i can totally see why we just talk about the weather. our head would explode if we started to talk about things that were worth half a shit.
it doesn't make me feel any better about what happened on this site wednesday. one "fictional" character getting bent out of shape because i was hard on another "fictional" character. the metanarrative butted heads with real life and edits were made because of it. seems kind of silly. i guess it's ok, though. it's another lesson that i hope i'll be able to articulate better as a father than i have as a son or a brother.
your goals in life, hannah and caroline? be true to yourself, whatever that ends up meaning to the both of you. be as honest as you goddamn possibly can with everyone, beginning at a very young age. love others as god loves you. and try to live the real story of your life and your metanarrative on as close to the same line as you possibly can.
good luck.
(part two)
((jesus christ! can't you just talk about the braves?))
i've touched on the idea of "how well do you ever really know someone" on this site before. the conclusion that i've always come to is pretty simple. you don't. maybe with a couple exceptions, you don't really know anybody. what you know and who you know of someone is nothing more than what any person decides to share with the rest of the world. snippets here. a couple "secrets" there. but nothing too personal. nothing too private. nothing too scary. nothing more than you need to know. it's obviously easier to digest that way. how's the weather? what did you have for lunch? what are you doing this weekend? did you hear chipper hurt himself running too hard again? who gives a shit? really? what does any of it matter? nothing, of course. and everything all at the same time.
for it's the slips from this norm when they happen that enlighten us to someone's true character. i can only imagine the first time a portion of the youth group at huffman heard me unleash my very blue tongue. "what did he just say???" "i think he said motherfucker." "can a youth director say that?" um. i don't know. let's go ask l12." but from that moment, from that slip, everything changed, right? no longer would i play the role of the closest example these young persons had to christ. i would just be kevin. human just like them. walking in the same direction. maybe a little further down the road. but we'd be working with each other along the way. i wouldn't be any better than them. they wouldn't be any worse for wear. it was what it was. now, this is just one example. the longer i was at huffman, the more slips there were. and the more the young people got to know me, the farther the cat got out of the bag that maybe this guy wasn't the best influence our money could buy. maybe we shouldn't really condone halo nights and family guy. that arc of my story ran it's course, and, as you all know, i moved on to something else. failing (depending on your definition of fail) fabulously with chris perry in huntsville.
which brings us back to today's main and surely elementary conflict. we are incredibly complex individuals, every one of us. each of us has incredibly varied experiences and adventures that define who we are on any given day. our lives make for good stories, sure, but each of our lives contain a complex metanarrative, a story about a story, that will never allow another human being to accurately define us. we, as fallible people, may have gone through similar situations, but every metanarrative is different. just like a snowflake. and this is why the "you don't know me" defense is so hard to crack. to one end, if you have offended a person to the point where they have to play the "you don't know me" card, technically, you should stop. because they are right. you are wrong. they played the ace up their sleeve. game over. it's infuriating, but it's true.
so now comes the tricky part. because some relationships carry such emotional weight and impact, certain things are bound to happen even if a particular character's arc has run it's course in your story. for example, let's pretend (remember, this is just pretend.) my father and i stopped talking for some reason unbeknownst to the both of us. a decision is made. a line is drawn. his character is pulled away from having an active role in the story of my life. in a perfect world, i would move on. find some other relationship to fill the void that remains from the energy i used to pour into actively loving and relating to him. in a perfect world, i would move on and find someone else. or several people. however many it takes to fill those shoes. in my metanarrative, though, i don't replace the void with something tangible. i replace it with a new story. one that i am making up in my head as i go along. in my complex and parallel life that is tangential to my real world, my father is still a character that is very real and very impactful in how i think about the world and how i react to real life situations.
do i know my (pretend) father anymore? well, no. of course not. i don't even talk to him. how could i know him? but knowing him in reality doesn't stop me from defining him. and the same goes for a number of people in my life that aren't really there but are still located in the synapses of my brain that make me feel something for them. even if, from the outside looking in, it seems completely retarded to do so. if we are still pretending to talk about my father, we might as well understand that the things i say about him here could just as well be written as a fictional story by someone that never knew the man. my and my brother's experiences have helped to shape the character in my head. but let's be honest. nowadays, it's just a character.
the fact of the matter is that i never really knew the man. his own story got in the way. scratch that. his own metanarrative got in the way. to make his real life better, some players that tried out for his story didn't make the cut. others did. once those roles were defined, the real-life story moved on from there and there was nothing i could do to stop it. i didn't get it at the time. and i don't want to get it now. i don't want to get my feelings hurt when "fictional" people throw themselves back into my real life in a way that is contrary to how i've romanticized them in my head. they don't know any better. they can't see the "big picture", because it's not their big picture.
i am no philosopher. i don't want to be. the more i think about stuff like this, the more i can totally see why we just talk about the weather. our head would explode if we started to talk about things that were worth half a shit.
it doesn't make me feel any better about what happened on this site wednesday. one "fictional" character getting bent out of shape because i was hard on another "fictional" character. the metanarrative butted heads with real life and edits were made because of it. seems kind of silly. i guess it's ok, though. it's another lesson that i hope i'll be able to articulate better as a father than i have as a son or a brother.
your goals in life, hannah and caroline? be true to yourself, whatever that ends up meaning to the both of you. be as honest as you goddamn possibly can with everyone, beginning at a very young age. love others as god loves you. and try to live the real story of your life and your metanarrative on as close to the same line as you possibly can.
good luck.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
father's day
(oh, shit. where is he going with this???)
i thought about posting on father's day, but my emotions toward the day and my man in question would do a disservice to the warmth and happiness that rise to the surface for many on the day someone set aside to celebrate the bond between father and son/daughter. i can still be happy for all of those that are able to rejoice in their current relationship with their dad. that's the way it should be. i can wish things were different for those that mourn the relationship that was taken from them much too early due to tragic circumstances. and i can be happy about being a "daddy", myself. thus, i thought it was appropriate for me to wait a couple days before i mused on the impact that my father currently has on my and my family's life.
i guess the easiest way to put it is that my relationship with my and my brother's father has become nothing more than a cautionary tale. kind of sad to think about it in those terms, isn't it? it is what it is. take it or leave it. it was easy to be reminded of the failure of effort on both sides last week when brian was in town. we talked a little about dad. but we weren't as much angry as we were resigned to that which had been laid in front of us to swallow. both us of had made efforts to contact him in the month or so leading up to brian's visit (me, for caroline's baptism. brian for some legal advice.). we were both ignored for whatever reason. after all, whatever the reason for us not being worth a phone call or e-mail back, it had to have been our fault, right? of course it was. there was some solidarity to be taken out of the rejection and we did wallow in that for a short period of time. but i think brian and i, both, are mature enough now to not let our hurt feelings ruin what was otherwise a splendid time together.
this much is now true. it would be really easy, from a jilted son and brother's point of view, to bash everything that is ... (edit.) ... i am not that petty.
or am i?
so, i will choose to learn what lesson i can from the cautionary tale. mommas, don't let your babies grow up to be (edit). alright. sounds reasonable. where he runs, i'll stay. where he forgets, i'll remember. when he ignores, i'll pay attention. cool. can do.
soon enough, my daughters will redefine for me what father's day should mean going forward. they'll pick up on the cheesy commercials and think they should make me a card or buy me a tie (wouldn't that be silly?). they might make us all go out to eat. do the laundry for me. cut the grass. treat me like a king for one day even though i am more deserving of something far less. and all of these nasty thoughts and emotions that i still carry with me will be transported to some place in the way back of my mind and i won't think about them nearly as often as i do. i won't think about, in spite of everything petty i said (er, edited) above, that i still love my father very much. i still wish and wonder every day if today will be the day that we can push aside what is in our way and be father and son again. that, one of these days, before he gets too old and i get too disinterested, we could go back to an alabama football game or throw a ball around in the backyard or talk about how stupid it is that we have lost years on top of years of time because my ass and his ass are both too stubborn to fall on our swords. i still wish for him to understand that brian is the most interesting person he's never met and spend the rest of his days mending that fence.
who knows. maybe one day, we will have our luke/vader on the deck of the death star moment. a moment when we peel off the broken pieces, look at each other, say we are sorry and move on. maybe that will happen. odds say that it won't, but i will stand at the ready for the chance that it might. danny (who, i swear to you, used to be brian) from ahX is right. "hate is baggage". i'd love to throw mine over the side and into the ocean. let someone else deal with it. i want to. but, i can't.
not yet.
(sorry this doesn't make any sense anymore. i have removed words that were hurtful to someone i've never had a beef with. if you are interested in the version that was posted earlier today, just shoot me an email. chances are you are not that interested.)
(oh, shit. where is he going with this???)
i thought about posting on father's day, but my emotions toward the day and my man in question would do a disservice to the warmth and happiness that rise to the surface for many on the day someone set aside to celebrate the bond between father and son/daughter. i can still be happy for all of those that are able to rejoice in their current relationship with their dad. that's the way it should be. i can wish things were different for those that mourn the relationship that was taken from them much too early due to tragic circumstances. and i can be happy about being a "daddy", myself. thus, i thought it was appropriate for me to wait a couple days before i mused on the impact that my father currently has on my and my family's life.
i guess the easiest way to put it is that my relationship with my and my brother's father has become nothing more than a cautionary tale. kind of sad to think about it in those terms, isn't it? it is what it is. take it or leave it. it was easy to be reminded of the failure of effort on both sides last week when brian was in town. we talked a little about dad. but we weren't as much angry as we were resigned to that which had been laid in front of us to swallow. both us of had made efforts to contact him in the month or so leading up to brian's visit (me, for caroline's baptism. brian for some legal advice.). we were both ignored for whatever reason. after all, whatever the reason for us not being worth a phone call or e-mail back, it had to have been our fault, right? of course it was. there was some solidarity to be taken out of the rejection and we did wallow in that for a short period of time. but i think brian and i, both, are mature enough now to not let our hurt feelings ruin what was otherwise a splendid time together.
this much is now true. it would be really easy, from a jilted son and brother's point of view, to bash everything that is ... (edit.) ... i am not that petty.
or am i?
so, i will choose to learn what lesson i can from the cautionary tale. mommas, don't let your babies grow up to be (edit). alright. sounds reasonable. where he runs, i'll stay. where he forgets, i'll remember. when he ignores, i'll pay attention. cool. can do.
soon enough, my daughters will redefine for me what father's day should mean going forward. they'll pick up on the cheesy commercials and think they should make me a card or buy me a tie (wouldn't that be silly?). they might make us all go out to eat. do the laundry for me. cut the grass. treat me like a king for one day even though i am more deserving of something far less. and all of these nasty thoughts and emotions that i still carry with me will be transported to some place in the way back of my mind and i won't think about them nearly as often as i do. i won't think about, in spite of everything petty i said (er, edited) above, that i still love my father very much. i still wish and wonder every day if today will be the day that we can push aside what is in our way and be father and son again. that, one of these days, before he gets too old and i get too disinterested, we could go back to an alabama football game or throw a ball around in the backyard or talk about how stupid it is that we have lost years on top of years of time because my ass and his ass are both too stubborn to fall on our swords. i still wish for him to understand that brian is the most interesting person he's never met and spend the rest of his days mending that fence.
who knows. maybe one day, we will have our luke/vader on the deck of the death star moment. a moment when we peel off the broken pieces, look at each other, say we are sorry and move on. maybe that will happen. odds say that it won't, but i will stand at the ready for the chance that it might. danny (who, i swear to you, used to be brian) from ahX is right. "hate is baggage". i'd love to throw mine over the side and into the ocean. let someone else deal with it. i want to. but, i can't.
not yet.
(sorry this doesn't make any sense anymore. i have removed words that were hurtful to someone i've never had a beef with. if you are interested in the version that was posted earlier today, just shoot me an email. chances are you are not that interested.)
Friday, June 13, 2008
gosh. is that it?
we talked about it in every group today, how vbs seems to have flown by this year. i am sure part of my feeling that way has to do with my missing a couple days, but it does feel like just yesterday that i was making my return to the hallowed halls of the education building, circa vacaction bible school week.
it was, indeed, good to be back. the numbers of kids were significantly down from the last time i was helping, but no more down, percentage-wise, than any other ministry of the church i would guess. the number of "church" kids involved in the proceedings was frighteningly low and hopefully will be taken into account as a (if not the) major issue as the church looks to replace our recently departed associate pastor. numbers shouldn't tell the whole story of vbs, though. they should just play a bit part. and from where i was sitting in the storytelling room, it seems like that notion held true. the kids that were lucky enough to participate this year didn't have to suffer from second-class anything. the overall theme was fun and well-organized by tanya and her team. the centers, as reported by the kids that came through our room, were all entertaining and educational at the same time. the sets in the sanctuary were amazing. and the adult and youth help all seemed genuinely happy to be a part of the "beach party". it was nothing short of a quality week. exceptional quality. considering how few of our actual membership were present this week, weeks like this week remark, with a very sharp tongue, the potential that a (even an incredibly shrinking) church our size still holds if we ever decided on a common goal more pointed than "making and growing disciples". here's hoping that may, still, be in the cards for us.
of course, the highlight of my week was my room, but it wasn't because i was so awesome and lived up to my own lofty expectations. it was that the folks that breathed life into the room, every single one of them, were young persons of huffman past that came back for (at least) one very specific reason. vacation bible school. for the memories that still remain from their own vbs's. to memories that were forged while throwing rubber balls at mouth-y 5th graders. to memories of red light, green light. to memories of syncopated bible verses. to holding crying children in their laps. to thoughts of what vacation bible school does mean. to thoughts of what vacation bible school should mean. to thoughts of what vacation bible school will mean. some of these memories? shallow. some of them? deep. all of them? important. and critical to laying a foundation somewhere deep inside a kid that will remind them somewhere down the road that there is a freaking god out there, somewhere, that loves them immensely.
thank you to all of my help. you guys and gals know how special you all are to me. i know that vbs isn't the end all. it's just a seed, planted and waiting to be nourished. but it's a good and worthy seed. and it's a good and worthy waste of all of our time.
halloween carnival, joseph?
we talked about it in every group today, how vbs seems to have flown by this year. i am sure part of my feeling that way has to do with my missing a couple days, but it does feel like just yesterday that i was making my return to the hallowed halls of the education building, circa vacaction bible school week.
it was, indeed, good to be back. the numbers of kids were significantly down from the last time i was helping, but no more down, percentage-wise, than any other ministry of the church i would guess. the number of "church" kids involved in the proceedings was frighteningly low and hopefully will be taken into account as a (if not the) major issue as the church looks to replace our recently departed associate pastor. numbers shouldn't tell the whole story of vbs, though. they should just play a bit part. and from where i was sitting in the storytelling room, it seems like that notion held true. the kids that were lucky enough to participate this year didn't have to suffer from second-class anything. the overall theme was fun and well-organized by tanya and her team. the centers, as reported by the kids that came through our room, were all entertaining and educational at the same time. the sets in the sanctuary were amazing. and the adult and youth help all seemed genuinely happy to be a part of the "beach party". it was nothing short of a quality week. exceptional quality. considering how few of our actual membership were present this week, weeks like this week remark, with a very sharp tongue, the potential that a (even an incredibly shrinking) church our size still holds if we ever decided on a common goal more pointed than "making and growing disciples". here's hoping that may, still, be in the cards for us.
of course, the highlight of my week was my room, but it wasn't because i was so awesome and lived up to my own lofty expectations. it was that the folks that breathed life into the room, every single one of them, were young persons of huffman past that came back for (at least) one very specific reason. vacation bible school. for the memories that still remain from their own vbs's. to memories that were forged while throwing rubber balls at mouth-y 5th graders. to memories of red light, green light. to memories of syncopated bible verses. to holding crying children in their laps. to thoughts of what vacation bible school does mean. to thoughts of what vacation bible school should mean. to thoughts of what vacation bible school will mean. some of these memories? shallow. some of them? deep. all of them? important. and critical to laying a foundation somewhere deep inside a kid that will remind them somewhere down the road that there is a freaking god out there, somewhere, that loves them immensely.
thank you to all of my help. you guys and gals know how special you all are to me. i know that vbs isn't the end all. it's just a seed, planted and waiting to be nourished. but it's a good and worthy seed. and it's a good and worthy waste of all of our time.
halloween carnival, joseph?
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
"you have plenty to write about this week"
(wrong again)
i guess sarah put my thoughts into the right perspective when she said to me as we were driving away from the church sunday, "today was set up to be awkward." she was right. it hasn't even been two weeks since julie found out that she was moving. the sunday after she did, it was announced from the pulpit that she would be forced (er, asked) to preach "one last time" for us on her getaway day. there were presentations to be made. tears to be shed. people to be thanked. and all of it was entirely genuine. even the testimony at the end was genuine, if not ill-advised. so, i won't spend too much time on what i thought was right and what i thought was wrong with the service. it never was going to be a worship service. it was always going to be a ceremony. and that's fine. i should've prepared for that going in. it was stupid of me to think that it would've been any different than it was. maybe if i had lowered the bar ahead of time as i am so often wont to do, my reaction shots that were obvious (as they always are) from the choir loft would not have been so (again, genuinely) demonstrative. curse you, expectations. you foiled me again.
on to more important things. brian o'kelley made his way to birmingham sunday after lunch. brian made his way home to continue his effort to make right with his past. to reconcile debts and deeds that could, very well, have been forgotten for good. that would have been the easy way to do it. he's got a good job. he's got a new life with new friends that don't have anything to do with what he may, technically, owe to the cities of birmingham, irondale and homewood. in the city that has seen his literal and metaphorical awakening, that shit is just water under the bridge. a good story that he could share at aa or na and be patted on the back because he found his way to that meeting with the good news that he's clean and headed in a new and positive direction. all of those debts and deeds could have been forgotten. depending on certain statutes of limitation, they may have eventually been forgiven. who knows...hmm...yes, who knows? who could i ask something pertaining to "the law"? who do i know that is in the presence of lawyers every day of his work week and could find me an answer to that question that i ponder about statutes of limitation? ah, fuck. i don't really know anyone like that. (you don't count, donna. the pointedness wouldn't be funny if there was a true answer to my rhetorical question.) not anymore. i digress. running away was no longer an option for brian. for him to have the freedom that a reinstated driver's license might afford him, certain things had to be taken care of. he is here to take care of them. he is way more brave than me.
i make my return to vacation bible school (along with some good, experienced help) tomorrow. (joseph shared the way he saw things with the vbs'ers this morning.) i am excited to be amongst the fold again. it wasn't that long ago that we oversaw massive dodgeball wars followed by the clapping of that day's scripture. it wasn't that long ago, but, boy, was that a long time ago. we stick to the script now, which is probably for the best. we will, to be sure, do what we can to infect the proceedings with some fun that might not come with your regular, run-of-the-mill retelling of the story of jesus and thomas. we'll walk the halls and sneer at those that haven't seen us around these parts in a while. we'll glare at the folks that thought things were better off with us gone. we'll walk with a gait that suggests something more dubious to our presence. something that suggests we are here to begin taking back what is just as rightfully ours as those that we have all but left behind. and we'll refer to ourselves constantly in the third-person plural because a collective is more intimidating than one man. a (figurative) body, even the parts that sometimes make us sick, carries more weight than an individual that may or may not hold a grudge.
actually, i won't do that at all. i'll be nice as i always am. and i'll show the kids why vbs should be a highlight of their summer and not a momentary and unwanted pause between xbox360 and the beach. i'll just kick it with them like in the old days. that should be fun enough.
so long, julie. thanks for the book.
(wrong again)
i guess sarah put my thoughts into the right perspective when she said to me as we were driving away from the church sunday, "today was set up to be awkward." she was right. it hasn't even been two weeks since julie found out that she was moving. the sunday after she did, it was announced from the pulpit that she would be forced (er, asked) to preach "one last time" for us on her getaway day. there were presentations to be made. tears to be shed. people to be thanked. and all of it was entirely genuine. even the testimony at the end was genuine, if not ill-advised. so, i won't spend too much time on what i thought was right and what i thought was wrong with the service. it never was going to be a worship service. it was always going to be a ceremony. and that's fine. i should've prepared for that going in. it was stupid of me to think that it would've been any different than it was. maybe if i had lowered the bar ahead of time as i am so often wont to do, my reaction shots that were obvious (as they always are) from the choir loft would not have been so (again, genuinely) demonstrative. curse you, expectations. you foiled me again.
on to more important things. brian o'kelley made his way to birmingham sunday after lunch. brian made his way home to continue his effort to make right with his past. to reconcile debts and deeds that could, very well, have been forgotten for good. that would have been the easy way to do it. he's got a good job. he's got a new life with new friends that don't have anything to do with what he may, technically, owe to the cities of birmingham, irondale and homewood. in the city that has seen his literal and metaphorical awakening, that shit is just water under the bridge. a good story that he could share at aa or na and be patted on the back because he found his way to that meeting with the good news that he's clean and headed in a new and positive direction. all of those debts and deeds could have been forgotten. depending on certain statutes of limitation, they may have eventually been forgiven. who knows...hmm...yes, who knows? who could i ask something pertaining to "the law"? who do i know that is in the presence of lawyers every day of his work week and could find me an answer to that question that i ponder about statutes of limitation? ah, fuck. i don't really know anyone like that. (you don't count, donna. the pointedness wouldn't be funny if there was a true answer to my rhetorical question.) not anymore. i digress. running away was no longer an option for brian. for him to have the freedom that a reinstated driver's license might afford him, certain things had to be taken care of. he is here to take care of them. he is way more brave than me.
i make my return to vacation bible school (along with some good, experienced help) tomorrow. (joseph shared the way he saw things with the vbs'ers this morning.) i am excited to be amongst the fold again. it wasn't that long ago that we oversaw massive dodgeball wars followed by the clapping of that day's scripture. it wasn't that long ago, but, boy, was that a long time ago. we stick to the script now, which is probably for the best. we will, to be sure, do what we can to infect the proceedings with some fun that might not come with your regular, run-of-the-mill retelling of the story of jesus and thomas. we'll walk the halls and sneer at those that haven't seen us around these parts in a while. we'll glare at the folks that thought things were better off with us gone. we'll walk with a gait that suggests something more dubious to our presence. something that suggests we are here to begin taking back what is just as rightfully ours as those that we have all but left behind. and we'll refer to ourselves constantly in the third-person plural because a collective is more intimidating than one man. a (figurative) body, even the parts that sometimes make us sick, carries more weight than an individual that may or may not hold a grudge.
actually, i won't do that at all. i'll be nice as i always am. and i'll show the kids why vbs should be a highlight of their summer and not a momentary and unwanted pause between xbox360 and the beach. i'll just kick it with them like in the old days. that should be fun enough.
so long, julie. thanks for the book.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
"i don't want to be a light that hangs around your wrist"
(so long and thanks for the memories)
well, there goes the neighborhood. this news broke around lunchtime yesterday. john smoltz is done for (at the very least) the season. i won't spend much time romanticizing and waxing nostalgic about his awesomeness. a lot of that will go on today on other sites. it's not that i didn't like smoltz. i loved him being a brave. but i was never a "smoltz guy". i am a hudson guy. and before that, i was a maddux guy. but i will miss him and what he brought to the table for my braves. it does piss me off a little bit that, since the news broke yesterday, reporters, players and commentators (hell, even smoltz himself) have been coming out of the woodwork talking of how they "saw this coming", that they've known he's been in constant pain since the spring. would've been nice to share some of that info with the fans so we didn't get our hopes up. oh well.
good-bye, john smoltz. hope the surgery goes well. i am sure we'll see you on the fox saturday afternoon broadcasts sooner rather than later.
oh, and the season is now officially over.
(so long and thanks for the memories)
well, there goes the neighborhood. this news broke around lunchtime yesterday. john smoltz is done for (at the very least) the season. i won't spend much time romanticizing and waxing nostalgic about his awesomeness. a lot of that will go on today on other sites. it's not that i didn't like smoltz. i loved him being a brave. but i was never a "smoltz guy". i am a hudson guy. and before that, i was a maddux guy. but i will miss him and what he brought to the table for my braves. it does piss me off a little bit that, since the news broke yesterday, reporters, players and commentators (hell, even smoltz himself) have been coming out of the woodwork talking of how they "saw this coming", that they've known he's been in constant pain since the spring. would've been nice to share some of that info with the fans so we didn't get our hopes up. oh well.
good-bye, john smoltz. hope the surgery goes well. i am sure we'll see you on the fox saturday afternoon broadcasts sooner rather than later.
oh, and the season is now officially over.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
this is what it looks like when i unleash the fury
dateline: pinson, al (photo: jacob sutton)
a picture's worth a thousand words, huh? we'll see about that. the little blur just to the right of kevin williams standing on first at the ready (with his hands on his hips, no less) to take off as soon as i make contact with the slowly-pitched softball? the blur is what's left of a screaming liner i've driven between the shortstop and third-baseman. at least, that's how i would tell the story to someone that didn't see it with their own eyes. truth be told, there are all sorts of things wrong with this picture. my weight-transfer is all off-balance as you can tell by the look of my falling backwards in the box. my uppercut of a swing is the tell-tale sign of why the hit was a grounder through a hole in the infield and not a laser over the left-fielder's head. my head is already worried about where the ball is headed rather than staying down on the pitch. but...since jacob captures the fact that every muscle above my ankle is clenched and working toward the common goal of getting my ass on base, it still looks pretty cool.
this is the vantage point of humc softball's fans, and this is a nice way to think of hannah remembering her daddy's athletic exploits. a picture, frozen in time, that alludes to what-used-to-be my athleticism slowly, but surely giving way to mornings-after where "i feel a lot more sore than i ought to."
not that i am "old" yet. and this is not going to turn into an ode about "what used to be." i am completely happy that i still have the want and the ability to go play outside like i did when i was eight years-old. i was just flipping around the internet this afternoon, caught this, and felt pretty good about this moment.
on a number of varying levels, this moment defines a lot about what is happy in my life. being on a field. family in tow. friends that i share a dugout with. balls. strikes. grown men taking a recreational game of softball way too seriously. dirt. scowls. shouts of praise. groans (and curses) of regret. competition. camaraderie. good-lookin' jerseys. knee-high socks. sunsets. winning.
i was able to go to church this morning for the first time in a few weeks. during the sunday school hour, my senior pastor walked into our class and shared a different kind of "moment" with us. he told us it was ok to grieve the unexpected loss of julie and that we, as a group that was somewhat close to julie, would not be forgotten as the church moved forward. he may have meant every single word he said, but he was still full of shit. because he is either too naive to see the same writing on the wall that i see or is lying to himself (and us) by refusing to look in that wall's direction. i am not sure which would be worse. what followed was a worship service where, outside of communion, bill cosby was the highlight (and the main attraction for those keeping score at home. it's been a bad month.). i would try and explain the interjection of old-school stand-up into our service to you, but it wouldn't make it any less ridiculous.
you know what, though? i am not going to let it ruin my afternoon. nope. i won't let that or the rain that got in the way of my necessary yard-work ruin the sign from god (or my normal internet surfing routine) that i should focus on the moment captured in the above photo and all the pleasant things it brings to mind.
now, if you'll excuse me, my head has an afternoon appointment with a brick wall.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
hush, now. i am listening to (you for a) reason.
in my haste to scribble down my thoughts on the events of sunday, may 25th at humc, i failed to mention what may have been the coolest news that i've received in quite some time. that news? an e-mail over the weekend from none other than my brother, brian patrick o'kelley, notifying me that he had entered this land of blog.
many of you know of brian. some more than others. others not at all. but if you know me at all, you know that in my world where potential and hope will always weigh heavier than what's happened in the past, my brother is the poster child for that world.
my and brian's life paths diverged sometime shortly after i left moody, al., moved back to huffman and into ascot place for the first of two stays. i entered a phase of self-discovery that included intentional efforts to reconnect with my father and church, amsouth and then working for the church i grew up in. brian entered a phase that could be described in many romantic and artistic ways, but for the sake of keeping it simple, we'll just say it was dark. he and i were together long enough, though, that he was my constant for quite some time. maybe he still is.
over the course of the last ten years, brian and i happened upon each other a couple of times, but the expectations that i placed on our relationship didn't match up with where he was on his own path to self-discovery and a couple times we lost significant touch. only in the last two years or so have we seriously found the want to be a part of each other's lives again and there are many reasons for that.
none of those reasons matter nearly as much as the want. i've thought about and written about him on this site since it's inception. he and his path have long been a driving force behind how i look at the world and my world today. and now, as of a few days ago, he's decided to open up for the world (wide web) to take a glance into the man he's become and he's becoming. it's terribly exciting for me, but, then again, i am biased. i would and do encourage anyone that comes across this site and is looking "to pass (your) time" to take a minute and check out what he has to say and how he has to say it.
it is a perspective that few of us are familiar with and his thoughts will root in a place that most of us will never fully grasp or understand, but that's what makes it so fascinating to me. we starve for people that have "been there and done that" when we cannot and should not go there. we starve for stories of redemption. we starve for anything that means something. and if you trust me at all, i tell you this today. where he's come from and where he is, today, means something. enjoy the ride.
and yes. brian is going to be super-pissed that i just pimped him as the second-coming.
whatareyougonnado? i am jazzed.
in my haste to scribble down my thoughts on the events of sunday, may 25th at humc, i failed to mention what may have been the coolest news that i've received in quite some time. that news? an e-mail over the weekend from none other than my brother, brian patrick o'kelley, notifying me that he had entered this land of blog.
many of you know of brian. some more than others. others not at all. but if you know me at all, you know that in my world where potential and hope will always weigh heavier than what's happened in the past, my brother is the poster child for that world.
my and brian's life paths diverged sometime shortly after i left moody, al., moved back to huffman and into ascot place for the first of two stays. i entered a phase of self-discovery that included intentional efforts to reconnect with my father and church, amsouth and then working for the church i grew up in. brian entered a phase that could be described in many romantic and artistic ways, but for the sake of keeping it simple, we'll just say it was dark. he and i were together long enough, though, that he was my constant for quite some time. maybe he still is.
over the course of the last ten years, brian and i happened upon each other a couple of times, but the expectations that i placed on our relationship didn't match up with where he was on his own path to self-discovery and a couple times we lost significant touch. only in the last two years or so have we seriously found the want to be a part of each other's lives again and there are many reasons for that.
none of those reasons matter nearly as much as the want. i've thought about and written about him on this site since it's inception. he and his path have long been a driving force behind how i look at the world and my world today. and now, as of a few days ago, he's decided to open up for the world (wide web) to take a glance into the man he's become and he's becoming. it's terribly exciting for me, but, then again, i am biased. i would and do encourage anyone that comes across this site and is looking "to pass (your) time" to take a minute and check out what he has to say and how he has to say it.
it is a perspective that few of us are familiar with and his thoughts will root in a place that most of us will never fully grasp or understand, but that's what makes it so fascinating to me. we starve for people that have "been there and done that" when we cannot and should not go there. we starve for stories of redemption. we starve for anything that means something. and if you trust me at all, i tell you this today. where he's come from and where he is, today, means something. enjoy the ride.
and yes. brian is going to be super-pissed that i just pimped him as the second-coming.
whatareyougonnado? i am jazzed.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
can someone get me a DNR?
(the difference between transparency and "holy crap. this really isn't any of our business, is it?")
it wasn't surprising. we knew it was coming. we just didn't know it would be this soon, right? like any bad relationship that you know is eventually coming to an end but neither side wants to be "the bad guy", such could be said for the relationship between huffman methodist church and the north alabama conference. sunday, it was announced to our congregation that the conference had made "the call". due to circumstances that, on the surface, were seemingly out of our control, the bishop decided at the eleventh hour to pull our associate pastor, julie holly, away from our church and appoint her to discovery united methodist church in hoover. discovery, once an up-and-comer in the nac system, has suffered from some poor decision-making of it's own in the last several years and now finds itself back in single-A ball fighting for a second look from ownership. julie will get her fred mcgriff and tom emanski videos on and attempt to teach that group the fundamentals of what it is to be a church again. good luck with that. and i'll stop with the baseball metaphors.
just a week ago, it was announced that huffman would be retaining both julie and chris denson for another year, so all of this came as quite a shock to the folks at huffman left still paying attention. the message that it sends is fairly clear, though. julie commented to the bishop that she did not feel like it was a good time for her or for humc for her to be moving. the bishop took that into consideration and moved her anyway, leaving this note taped to the front door of our sanctuary. "this shouldn't come as a surprise to you, but i am sure it will anyway. what do you expect? through no request on your part, we gave you freaking charles lee and this church did not flourish under his "unique" brand of leadership. you have not paid your full apportionment (tithes to the conference) in i don't know how long. you are in the middle of a black community and you have two active black members. you are old, stubborn and unwilling to change your ways. you are no longer relevant to your conference or to me, your bishop. when people talk to me about huffman united methodist i say, "they haven't closed their doors yet?", and then i chortle an old man ceo's laugh because i have the power to make decisions that define your fate. and i define you dead. time of death...sunday, may 25th. take care. -will"
well, the note read something like that. i didn't see it myself. we don't really have a leg to stand on to dispute the move, but it still stings with disappointment. julie was young, bright, spirited and fully involved (whether she liked it or not) in the only important thing left at the church, the children's place. she never overwhelmed with what she brought to the table, but her being at our church was good for us and people liked her because she was nice and had a good heart. and i am sure the church will replace her with someone with an equally good heart. someone else that we didn't ask for but will welcome with open arms because that's what methodists do. but the message is clear. it is more important, in the life of the conference, for julie to be at discovery than it is for her to be at humc in her current role. that's it. it's fairly simple. it's rejection at it's finest. so, what now? well, that will take some time to figure out. you'll be kept in the loop, i promise.
in other uplifting news sunday morning, it was also announced that our current district superintendent had turned in her credentials to our pope, er bishop, along with the other d.s. that she was getting jiggy with due to the always ambiguous but never really so "inappropriate behavior". in a classic and gratuitous case of the conference saving face being more important than the individuals involved, our congregation was told that the conference did not want to be secretive about the changes, and therefore were being as full with their disclosure as they possibly could. which, i guess is all well and good, but 95 percent of the folks in church sunday had never met our d.s. even fewer had met or even heard of the guy (not her husband) that she was hooking up with. the announcement in the middle of worship of their affair and the consequences of it seemed, how do you say, like a poor choice. again, i appreciate the idea of trying to get out in front of the rumor mill. maybe the announcement sunday was just the lesser of two evils, but if you are really having to pick between two evils, couldn't you not pick either? hmm. i wonder what jesus would do? oh well, forget that thought. jesus wasn't the main attraction sunday, so there's no need to pretend.
all in all, not a real good day to be a methodist sunday, especially a huffman united methodist. it's not every sunday that you are lucky enough to have your worst fears confirmed by the highest authority in your conference. through circumstances that were out of our control (but, truly, were completely within our control), our DNR order was signed along with the careers of two random humans. we all left a little more broken than when we entered, which is what a good worship service is all about.
what?
is that not right?
(the difference between transparency and "holy crap. this really isn't any of our business, is it?")
it wasn't surprising. we knew it was coming. we just didn't know it would be this soon, right? like any bad relationship that you know is eventually coming to an end but neither side wants to be "the bad guy", such could be said for the relationship between huffman methodist church and the north alabama conference. sunday, it was announced to our congregation that the conference had made "the call". due to circumstances that, on the surface, were seemingly out of our control, the bishop decided at the eleventh hour to pull our associate pastor, julie holly, away from our church and appoint her to discovery united methodist church in hoover. discovery, once an up-and-comer in the nac system, has suffered from some poor decision-making of it's own in the last several years and now finds itself back in single-A ball fighting for a second look from ownership. julie will get her fred mcgriff and tom emanski videos on and attempt to teach that group the fundamentals of what it is to be a church again. good luck with that. and i'll stop with the baseball metaphors.
just a week ago, it was announced that huffman would be retaining both julie and chris denson for another year, so all of this came as quite a shock to the folks at huffman left still paying attention. the message that it sends is fairly clear, though. julie commented to the bishop that she did not feel like it was a good time for her or for humc for her to be moving. the bishop took that into consideration and moved her anyway, leaving this note taped to the front door of our sanctuary. "this shouldn't come as a surprise to you, but i am sure it will anyway. what do you expect? through no request on your part, we gave you freaking charles lee and this church did not flourish under his "unique" brand of leadership. you have not paid your full apportionment (tithes to the conference) in i don't know how long. you are in the middle of a black community and you have two active black members. you are old, stubborn and unwilling to change your ways. you are no longer relevant to your conference or to me, your bishop. when people talk to me about huffman united methodist i say, "they haven't closed their doors yet?", and then i chortle an old man ceo's laugh because i have the power to make decisions that define your fate. and i define you dead. time of death...sunday, may 25th. take care. -will"
well, the note read something like that. i didn't see it myself. we don't really have a leg to stand on to dispute the move, but it still stings with disappointment. julie was young, bright, spirited and fully involved (whether she liked it or not) in the only important thing left at the church, the children's place. she never overwhelmed with what she brought to the table, but her being at our church was good for us and people liked her because she was nice and had a good heart. and i am sure the church will replace her with someone with an equally good heart. someone else that we didn't ask for but will welcome with open arms because that's what methodists do. but the message is clear. it is more important, in the life of the conference, for julie to be at discovery than it is for her to be at humc in her current role. that's it. it's fairly simple. it's rejection at it's finest. so, what now? well, that will take some time to figure out. you'll be kept in the loop, i promise.
in other uplifting news sunday morning, it was also announced that our current district superintendent had turned in her credentials to our pope, er bishop, along with the other d.s. that she was getting jiggy with due to the always ambiguous but never really so "inappropriate behavior". in a classic and gratuitous case of the conference saving face being more important than the individuals involved, our congregation was told that the conference did not want to be secretive about the changes, and therefore were being as full with their disclosure as they possibly could. which, i guess is all well and good, but 95 percent of the folks in church sunday had never met our d.s. even fewer had met or even heard of the guy (not her husband) that she was hooking up with. the announcement in the middle of worship of their affair and the consequences of it seemed, how do you say, like a poor choice. again, i appreciate the idea of trying to get out in front of the rumor mill. maybe the announcement sunday was just the lesser of two evils, but if you are really having to pick between two evils, couldn't you not pick either? hmm. i wonder what jesus would do? oh well, forget that thought. jesus wasn't the main attraction sunday, so there's no need to pretend.
all in all, not a real good day to be a methodist sunday, especially a huffman united methodist. it's not every sunday that you are lucky enough to have your worst fears confirmed by the highest authority in your conference. through circumstances that were out of our control (but, truly, were completely within our control), our DNR order was signed along with the careers of two random humans. we all left a little more broken than when we entered, which is what a good worship service is all about.
what?
is that not right?
Thursday, May 22, 2008
your momma is so fat,...
in my opinion, it's fairly easy for a person to determine how important something, any one thing, is to them. take any thought or belief or conviction or band or movie or television show or sports team or celebrity whose importance to party "a" is fairly high and publicly articulated. now, say party "b" disagrees with party "a" on the social, spiritual, economic, or trivial importance of said thought or belief or conviction or band or movie or television show or sports team or celebrity. party "a" thinks paris hilton is the bomb and will go to the mat for why she is vital to the fabric of our self-important country. party "b" thinks she's a worthless douchebag and that her "celebrity" is exhibit way-too-many on why everyone in the world hates the usa. party "b" goes so far as to call party "a" a dick. party "a" will not have his/her paris disrespected and returns the favor by calling party "b" a glue-sniffer and, soon enough, the point that was initially being argued is lost, two friends are no longer close and the debate on paris hilton being good for all of us is no closer to being settled than it was.
if something is important enough to you, you will fight to defend his/her/their/it's honor even if it means stooping to a level you weren't aware you could stoop to. understanding what's important to you and what's worth fighting for, well, that's what life is all about, isn't it? i've been rubber-necking at a conversation that started several days ago when a young man chose to voice his opinion on evolution vs. the creation story in his blog. i've come to know the young man (in order to protect the innocent, we'll just call him "matt") through his connectedness and relationship with my dear friend, andy. i think highly of him, but his jump-shot is kind of ugly. nevertheless, his choice to allow a group of people a window into his education and processing of that education combined with his life experience was an honorable one for sure. he's honest like that. what followed in the comments section of his blogs was not surprising. evolution is a divisive subject. for those that have convicted themselves into the idea that there is no such thing, it is even more divisive. i am not one of those people, but i respect the ideas of others enough to not really care a whole lot which "side" you fall on. it's not terribly important to me. it's not "dangerous" if you disagree with me or vice-versa. it is what it is. you subscribe to the theory or you don't. myself, i'll just say that i am in the camp that considers my mere existence a magnificent accident. i am lucky and blessed and happy to be alive right here. right now. and i am constantly trying to understand what that means for me and the people that i encounter. it's a daily struggle. what i found enlightening about the discourse on "matt's" blog, while i was peeking in, was how little the conversation moved me. there was no emotion stirred, other than empathy towards the few that seemed to be picking "sides".
now, if matt had written something about how tim hudson is losing it??? now, then i would have had a problem. if you are attacking my tim, you just be ready for what's coming to you. because if you are bashing him or his tattoos in any way, i will fight you. i am serious. i will freaking punch you in the face (and then run).
it's fascinating to me how sudden and reactive our gut is to telling us what's important and what's not. how every tiny and (seemingly) unimportant second of our lives leads us daily to these moments of "truth.", these moments that incite us to defend what we think is right and how we think you are wrong. what happened to me in these 31-plus years to make me carry such equal and different passions for humc and the "idea" of michael vick? figuring out why i would kill you if you hurt any of my girls is easy. figuring out why i would do the same if you criticized lost is a little less tangible.
the cliche' of "pick your battles wisely" has always sounded like an oxymoron to me. if you sit around and meditate on something, if you think about something with intent and concerted thought and still "pick" to "battle", then something is wrong with you. or, you are george w. bush (zing!). true battles are fought on the fields of passion and they usually make absolutely no sense whatsoever if you can take a couple breaths away from them. but those battles do tell us something about ourselves. they tell what is important to us on that day and in that moment.
today, it could be evolution.
tomorrow, it could be peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches.
whatareyougonnado?
grow.
in my opinion, it's fairly easy for a person to determine how important something, any one thing, is to them. take any thought or belief or conviction or band or movie or television show or sports team or celebrity whose importance to party "a" is fairly high and publicly articulated. now, say party "b" disagrees with party "a" on the social, spiritual, economic, or trivial importance of said thought or belief or conviction or band or movie or television show or sports team or celebrity. party "a" thinks paris hilton is the bomb and will go to the mat for why she is vital to the fabric of our self-important country. party "b" thinks she's a worthless douchebag and that her "celebrity" is exhibit way-too-many on why everyone in the world hates the usa. party "b" goes so far as to call party "a" a dick. party "a" will not have his/her paris disrespected and returns the favor by calling party "b" a glue-sniffer and, soon enough, the point that was initially being argued is lost, two friends are no longer close and the debate on paris hilton being good for all of us is no closer to being settled than it was.
if something is important enough to you, you will fight to defend his/her/their/it's honor even if it means stooping to a level you weren't aware you could stoop to. understanding what's important to you and what's worth fighting for, well, that's what life is all about, isn't it? i've been rubber-necking at a conversation that started several days ago when a young man chose to voice his opinion on evolution vs. the creation story in his blog. i've come to know the young man (in order to protect the innocent, we'll just call him "matt") through his connectedness and relationship with my dear friend, andy. i think highly of him, but his jump-shot is kind of ugly. nevertheless, his choice to allow a group of people a window into his education and processing of that education combined with his life experience was an honorable one for sure. he's honest like that. what followed in the comments section of his blogs was not surprising. evolution is a divisive subject. for those that have convicted themselves into the idea that there is no such thing, it is even more divisive. i am not one of those people, but i respect the ideas of others enough to not really care a whole lot which "side" you fall on. it's not terribly important to me. it's not "dangerous" if you disagree with me or vice-versa. it is what it is. you subscribe to the theory or you don't. myself, i'll just say that i am in the camp that considers my mere existence a magnificent accident. i am lucky and blessed and happy to be alive right here. right now. and i am constantly trying to understand what that means for me and the people that i encounter. it's a daily struggle. what i found enlightening about the discourse on "matt's" blog, while i was peeking in, was how little the conversation moved me. there was no emotion stirred, other than empathy towards the few that seemed to be picking "sides".
now, if matt had written something about how tim hudson is losing it??? now, then i would have had a problem. if you are attacking my tim, you just be ready for what's coming to you. because if you are bashing him or his tattoos in any way, i will fight you. i am serious. i will freaking punch you in the face (and then run).
it's fascinating to me how sudden and reactive our gut is to telling us what's important and what's not. how every tiny and (seemingly) unimportant second of our lives leads us daily to these moments of "truth.", these moments that incite us to defend what we think is right and how we think you are wrong. what happened to me in these 31-plus years to make me carry such equal and different passions for humc and the "idea" of michael vick? figuring out why i would kill you if you hurt any of my girls is easy. figuring out why i would do the same if you criticized lost is a little less tangible.
the cliche' of "pick your battles wisely" has always sounded like an oxymoron to me. if you sit around and meditate on something, if you think about something with intent and concerted thought and still "pick" to "battle", then something is wrong with you. or, you are george w. bush (zing!). true battles are fought on the fields of passion and they usually make absolutely no sense whatsoever if you can take a couple breaths away from them. but those battles do tell us something about ourselves. they tell what is important to us on that day and in that moment.
today, it could be evolution.
tomorrow, it could be peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches.
whatareyougonnado?
grow.
Friday, May 16, 2008
"jesus christ is not a weapon"
i know i haven't said much about lost this season, but, as i told jacob, i just don't feel that i can add anything significant to the commentary. i read the ew.com preview thursday morning. i watch the show thursday night. i read the ew recap on friday. and then i go to lostpedia to make sure i didn't miss anything revelatory and sometimes i watch the show again. it's not just a show for me. it's an event. an event that i am going to sorely miss in a couple weeks after the season finale, but i'll wait 'til then to mourn. if you don't know or care to know what you are missing with this show yet, then you really don't care about what i am writing now. stay with me. this time last year, i was frustrated with all the unanswered questions and the slowness with which the audience was given any new insight as to where the show was headed. i have done a complete 180 on this stance now. if i am not given something new to chew on and ponder with each new episode, i leave feeling almost disappointed. i leave feeling like my week is incomplete. i leave a little empty inside. and it hit me as i sat down to write this morning what this show has become for me. it's become my "church."
now, before you go thinking and rolling your eyes and saying out loud or to yourself about how sacrilegious that sounds, let me explain. i am not saying that i am denouncing my community of believer buddies at humc. i am not saying that i am removing my membership or planning on lessening my activity and participation there. i am saying this. the worship services that i have blasted and burned on this site for two years now, the hour on sunday morning that i used to look to as my outlet in the wall that i would plug myself into to recharge my spiritual battery for the week that was to come, well, i no longer look for worship at huffman to do that. it's not capable. my expectations are too high. the worship leaders have so muffed up the idea of a worship experience (in my own head, mind you.), that i can no longer trust that i will be anything but disappointed come the benediction at the end of the service. and that, my friends, is why lost is my new "church."
lost, for me, is everything a true, "religious" experience should be. something one anticipates. something that is fulfilling. something that, because of it's layers, cannot not be completely digested and deconstructed in the real time that it is occurring. something that plants a seed in your head that might bloom several hours or several days down the line and might provide a vested participant with an "aha!!!" moment as refreshing as a cold coca-cola. something that leaves you coming back for more. something that lends itself to criticism, but learns from the critique, evolves and betters itself because of it. something that is fluid. unpredictable. mysterious. inspirational. motivational. alive.
...
then again, maybe i am just projecting. lost could just be a tv show. and maybe it's only an experience because i've chosen it to be one. and maybe that's true.
it's a thin line that i am trying to balance on this morning. i know this. just a few days ago, i asked a question. if a first-time visitor came to church last sunday and witnessed all the crying and the holocaust baby talk and the bass-thumping and the derision from the choir loft, with what impression would they leave? whose show would they have seen? a show built by the the worship leaders and peripheral noise outside of the sanctuary? or god's show? for two years, i have been trying to ask myself that question and i keep coming back to the same place. i can't expect my pastor and my associate pastor and my choir director and my choir and others to do all the work for me. i have to be invested if i want my worship service to become a worship "experience". i know this. and i have tried. by going back to that sunday's scripture. by meditating and praying on the message from the pulpit. trying to block out the negativity and focus on the positive aspects on what i am a part of in the hopes that i want to come back for more.
and it's not working. not yet. so, what does that tell me? that lost is doing a better job of church than humc or that the tv show is filling something inside of me that is looking for some food. maybe one or the other. maybe a little of both. maybe neither. i haven't entirely reconciled it in my head just yet. i know that i can offer a lot to my church. and maybe my church deserves second and third and fourth and so-on chances that continue to follow ill-fated decisions or lack thereof. or maybe god has been thumping the back of my ear for two years now trying to get my attention and i am too stubborn to look behind me and make eye contact.
it's a hard thing. to wonder if letting go is the right answer. wondering if you can play a role in changing the course of something that seems already so destined to fail.
in a couple weeks, lost will go on hiatus and i will have an "experience" void to fill. if something new (or old) looks interesting, you'll be the first to know.
i know i haven't said much about lost this season, but, as i told jacob, i just don't feel that i can add anything significant to the commentary. i read the ew.com preview thursday morning. i watch the show thursday night. i read the ew recap on friday. and then i go to lostpedia to make sure i didn't miss anything revelatory and sometimes i watch the show again. it's not just a show for me. it's an event. an event that i am going to sorely miss in a couple weeks after the season finale, but i'll wait 'til then to mourn. if you don't know or care to know what you are missing with this show yet, then you really don't care about what i am writing now. stay with me. this time last year, i was frustrated with all the unanswered questions and the slowness with which the audience was given any new insight as to where the show was headed. i have done a complete 180 on this stance now. if i am not given something new to chew on and ponder with each new episode, i leave feeling almost disappointed. i leave feeling like my week is incomplete. i leave a little empty inside. and it hit me as i sat down to write this morning what this show has become for me. it's become my "church."
now, before you go thinking and rolling your eyes and saying out loud or to yourself about how sacrilegious that sounds, let me explain. i am not saying that i am denouncing my community of believer buddies at humc. i am not saying that i am removing my membership or planning on lessening my activity and participation there. i am saying this. the worship services that i have blasted and burned on this site for two years now, the hour on sunday morning that i used to look to as my outlet in the wall that i would plug myself into to recharge my spiritual battery for the week that was to come, well, i no longer look for worship at huffman to do that. it's not capable. my expectations are too high. the worship leaders have so muffed up the idea of a worship experience (in my own head, mind you.), that i can no longer trust that i will be anything but disappointed come the benediction at the end of the service. and that, my friends, is why lost is my new "church."
lost, for me, is everything a true, "religious" experience should be. something one anticipates. something that is fulfilling. something that, because of it's layers, cannot not be completely digested and deconstructed in the real time that it is occurring. something that plants a seed in your head that might bloom several hours or several days down the line and might provide a vested participant with an "aha!!!" moment as refreshing as a cold coca-cola. something that leaves you coming back for more. something that lends itself to criticism, but learns from the critique, evolves and betters itself because of it. something that is fluid. unpredictable. mysterious. inspirational. motivational. alive.
...
then again, maybe i am just projecting. lost could just be a tv show. and maybe it's only an experience because i've chosen it to be one. and maybe that's true.
it's a thin line that i am trying to balance on this morning. i know this. just a few days ago, i asked a question. if a first-time visitor came to church last sunday and witnessed all the crying and the holocaust baby talk and the bass-thumping and the derision from the choir loft, with what impression would they leave? whose show would they have seen? a show built by the the worship leaders and peripheral noise outside of the sanctuary? or god's show? for two years, i have been trying to ask myself that question and i keep coming back to the same place. i can't expect my pastor and my associate pastor and my choir director and my choir and others to do all the work for me. i have to be invested if i want my worship service to become a worship "experience". i know this. and i have tried. by going back to that sunday's scripture. by meditating and praying on the message from the pulpit. trying to block out the negativity and focus on the positive aspects on what i am a part of in the hopes that i want to come back for more.
and it's not working. not yet. so, what does that tell me? that lost is doing a better job of church than humc or that the tv show is filling something inside of me that is looking for some food. maybe one or the other. maybe a little of both. maybe neither. i haven't entirely reconciled it in my head just yet. i know that i can offer a lot to my church. and maybe my church deserves second and third and fourth and so-on chances that continue to follow ill-fated decisions or lack thereof. or maybe god has been thumping the back of my ear for two years now trying to get my attention and i am too stubborn to look behind me and make eye contact.
it's a hard thing. to wonder if letting go is the right answer. wondering if you can play a role in changing the course of something that seems already so destined to fail.
in a couple weeks, lost will go on hiatus and i will have an "experience" void to fill. if something new (or old) looks interesting, you'll be the first to know.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
reactions to a second-hand story
when you happen upon someone's personal blog, you should know what you are getting. one person's opinions. one person's stories that mean enough to them to share. one person's world. take it or leave it. when you visit http://www.hannahandme.blogspot.com/, you are looking at the world through kevin o'kelley colored glasses. for better or for worse (probably for worse), i. am. the show. and if you are interested or bored enough to use your spare time to glance at a post, you shouldn't be surprised, necessarily, by something you read. unless you've really pissed me off, there's a really good chance you are not going to be personally offended. that's not (usually) how i roll. if you feel like your time on this site is not wasted, then i am truly honored. if you leave with some perspective that you weren't expecting from a post that led with a picture of the dashing tim hudson, then i am happy to have pushed some button in the depths of you that was looking to be pushed anyway. i grant you that my random musings on what's wrong with my braves or alabama football or my church or what's right with my children aren't likely to add anything significant to your day, but, again, you know what you're getting here. i am the show. and i am not that exciting.
i should be able to say the same about a worship experience at any church. in any worship experience, who should be the show? why, god, of course. but, churches are attended by people and worship services tend to be led by alpha-personalities that will not crumble beneath the magnitude of being god's voice on any given sunday to the "little people" in the congregation. and believe me, from someone that's been there and done that, the magnitude is a weight that i was never meant to carry. in a small group, i can add to the conversation. shoot, in a small group, i am fairly certain that i can even facilitate a conversation. in god's house, though? on sunday morning? with god's people there hungry to be fed? i am confident my own hubris would get in the way from me being consistently good and worthy of any pulpit for more than a showcase appearance. thusly, i repeat and clearly state my point. leading worship, attempting to be the voice of god for a congregation craving to hear Him, is an incredibly tough job. that being said, it should not be a job that is above accountability. it should not be a job that is beyond someone saying out loud, "you, sir/ma'am, are not the show. in His house, He should be the show."
i thank god that i was working sunday morning, because i have now been resting on a positive "church" cloud for over a week after caroline's baptism service. according to sources near and dear to me, sources that know what grooves and what doesn't groove with regards to my wants out of a worship service, sunday would have far from grooved.
likely obstacles that i would have encountered sunday morning include:
- the choir director pointing out before a hymn that the congregation was not into the previous singing of "sweet, sweet spirit" and urging us to show more visible signs of "sweetness" on our faces.
- bass booming from underneath the sanctuary calling our attention to the service that was scheduled to begin at 1100.
- a solo from the pastor.
- a serious stretch of an analogy between children of the holocaust dying due to cruel experiments and our need for god's "touch".
- the loss of control by the pastor due to his being shaken over remembering his mother's influence and passing some 24 years ago.
- crying. lots of crying.
i come here today not to judge another man's way of performing his duties as our choir director. i come here today not to judge one man's need to hear himself sing. alone. often. i come here today not to judge how one man chooses to remember his mother on mother's day in front of his congregation. i come here today not to judge the fact that grief is a powerful animal, one that can take hold of a man a full 24 years after a premature loss. i come here today not to judge crying, no matter how much i hate it. but i do come here today to ask one rhetorical question.
by the end of the carnival (my words, not my "source"'s) that was worship at humc this past sunday, if you were to ask a person that was visiting our church for the very first time, "who was the show?", how would they answer?
would it be the self-important choir director? the bass, thumping from what used to be the youth center? would it be the holocaust babies? would it be the solo-singing pastor? or the sobbing pastor? the pastor's mother? or god?
the tone of this post, obviously, gives you my answer. then again, i am looking through kevin o'kelley colored glasses. i could be wrong. i am sure that the vulnerability that our pastor showed in the pulpit could be seen as moving, courageous even. the means to a service that pushed a button in the depths of a person that was looking to be pushed anyway.
maybe my button is just broken.
when you happen upon someone's personal blog, you should know what you are getting. one person's opinions. one person's stories that mean enough to them to share. one person's world. take it or leave it. when you visit http://www.hannahandme.blogspot.com/, you are looking at the world through kevin o'kelley colored glasses. for better or for worse (probably for worse), i. am. the show. and if you are interested or bored enough to use your spare time to glance at a post, you shouldn't be surprised, necessarily, by something you read. unless you've really pissed me off, there's a really good chance you are not going to be personally offended. that's not (usually) how i roll. if you feel like your time on this site is not wasted, then i am truly honored. if you leave with some perspective that you weren't expecting from a post that led with a picture of the dashing tim hudson, then i am happy to have pushed some button in the depths of you that was looking to be pushed anyway. i grant you that my random musings on what's wrong with my braves or alabama football or my church or what's right with my children aren't likely to add anything significant to your day, but, again, you know what you're getting here. i am the show. and i am not that exciting.
i should be able to say the same about a worship experience at any church. in any worship experience, who should be the show? why, god, of course. but, churches are attended by people and worship services tend to be led by alpha-personalities that will not crumble beneath the magnitude of being god's voice on any given sunday to the "little people" in the congregation. and believe me, from someone that's been there and done that, the magnitude is a weight that i was never meant to carry. in a small group, i can add to the conversation. shoot, in a small group, i am fairly certain that i can even facilitate a conversation. in god's house, though? on sunday morning? with god's people there hungry to be fed? i am confident my own hubris would get in the way from me being consistently good and worthy of any pulpit for more than a showcase appearance. thusly, i repeat and clearly state my point. leading worship, attempting to be the voice of god for a congregation craving to hear Him, is an incredibly tough job. that being said, it should not be a job that is above accountability. it should not be a job that is beyond someone saying out loud, "you, sir/ma'am, are not the show. in His house, He should be the show."
i thank god that i was working sunday morning, because i have now been resting on a positive "church" cloud for over a week after caroline's baptism service. according to sources near and dear to me, sources that know what grooves and what doesn't groove with regards to my wants out of a worship service, sunday would have far from grooved.
likely obstacles that i would have encountered sunday morning include:
- the choir director pointing out before a hymn that the congregation was not into the previous singing of "sweet, sweet spirit" and urging us to show more visible signs of "sweetness" on our faces.
- bass booming from underneath the sanctuary calling our attention to the service that was scheduled to begin at 1100.
- a solo from the pastor.
- a serious stretch of an analogy between children of the holocaust dying due to cruel experiments and our need for god's "touch".
- the loss of control by the pastor due to his being shaken over remembering his mother's influence and passing some 24 years ago.
- crying. lots of crying.
i come here today not to judge another man's way of performing his duties as our choir director. i come here today not to judge one man's need to hear himself sing. alone. often. i come here today not to judge how one man chooses to remember his mother on mother's day in front of his congregation. i come here today not to judge the fact that grief is a powerful animal, one that can take hold of a man a full 24 years after a premature loss. i come here today not to judge crying, no matter how much i hate it. but i do come here today to ask one rhetorical question.
by the end of the carnival (my words, not my "source"'s) that was worship at humc this past sunday, if you were to ask a person that was visiting our church for the very first time, "who was the show?", how would they answer?
would it be the self-important choir director? the bass, thumping from what used to be the youth center? would it be the holocaust babies? would it be the solo-singing pastor? or the sobbing pastor? the pastor's mother? or god?
the tone of this post, obviously, gives you my answer. then again, i am looking through kevin o'kelley colored glasses. i could be wrong. i am sure that the vulnerability that our pastor showed in the pulpit could be seen as moving, courageous even. the means to a service that pushed a button in the depths of a person that was looking to be pushed anyway.
maybe my button is just broken.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
what's in a (mother's) day?
(hannah and caroline and me, part twelve)
mother's day...hmm. i've never been a big mother's day guy. kind of like i've never been a big valentine's day guy. it would be easy to rest on the cliched notion that if you aren't showing your mom or valentine love every other day of the year, it would seem silly to start or to go way overboard on their respective manufactured holiday. i think, for me, there is more (or less) to it.
i don't remember my mom putting much stock in mother's day as we were growing up. granted, her mom died while i was relatively young, so i may just not be aware of how important it was to her. who knows. she didn't make us call our grandmother(s) or anything like that as far as i can remember. she didn't make it a big deal if we didn't go out of our way to get her more than a card or a hug. in my memory, mother's day was just a day.
in my house and my family now, sarah would probably tell you that mother's day is very close to just a day. we went out to dinner with the girls last night on mother's day eve (i am at the store this morning.) and it was nice. caroline was as fussy as she's ever been when we've taken her out to eat. hannah wasn't bad, but she wasn't great either. we hurried through our meal so as not to keep disturbing the folks around us. although, it was comforting, in a sick kind of way, that the family immediately behind us was having a rough time of it as well. i heard the mom tell the dad that she was never sitting next to her son again at dinner. i was thinking the same exact thing about hannah as she continuously kicked me and laid on top of me while i was trying to eat. as we left, i said sarcastically, "well, happy mothers day!" and sarah responded with a tired and equally sarcastic, "yeah. thanks."
truth be told, i am sure it did mean a lot to the mommy. any time we all spend together can be read on her face as a warm glow. not a pregnant glow, but the kind of look that says that she is content and happy in that moment. fortunately for her and our family, i see that look a lot. it's not written all day every day, but it doesn't take a holiday or a forced effort to bring it out either. i guess (or hope) that's probably a good thing.
so, what should mother's day mean to hannah and caroline as they get older? hannah already knows that she makes a card for mommy at school. she knows that i asked her with special emphasis this morning to follow all of mommy's directions the first time that she is asked. other than that, though, what? i don't want them to feel dispassionate about "celebrating" mother's day just because i might. but i do think this. i think the closer mother's day comes to feeling like just a day because of how much love she feels from them on the other 364 days of the year, the better job we, as parents, will have done.
will we still get her surprise presents from time to time? i am sure we will. will we still go out to lunch or dinner to make sure that she doesn't have to cook or clean dishes on "her" day? probably so. but, will it feel like a holiday from all of those other days that she doesn't feel appreciated for the hard work that it is being a mom? i hope not, because if it does, i will have failed.
happy mothers day, sarah. from hannah and caroline and me. here's hoping tomorrow feels exactly the same. in a very good way.
(hannah and caroline and me, part twelve)
mother's day...hmm. i've never been a big mother's day guy. kind of like i've never been a big valentine's day guy. it would be easy to rest on the cliched notion that if you aren't showing your mom or valentine love every other day of the year, it would seem silly to start or to go way overboard on their respective manufactured holiday. i think, for me, there is more (or less) to it.
i don't remember my mom putting much stock in mother's day as we were growing up. granted, her mom died while i was relatively young, so i may just not be aware of how important it was to her. who knows. she didn't make us call our grandmother(s) or anything like that as far as i can remember. she didn't make it a big deal if we didn't go out of our way to get her more than a card or a hug. in my memory, mother's day was just a day.
in my house and my family now, sarah would probably tell you that mother's day is very close to just a day. we went out to dinner with the girls last night on mother's day eve (i am at the store this morning.) and it was nice. caroline was as fussy as she's ever been when we've taken her out to eat. hannah wasn't bad, but she wasn't great either. we hurried through our meal so as not to keep disturbing the folks around us. although, it was comforting, in a sick kind of way, that the family immediately behind us was having a rough time of it as well. i heard the mom tell the dad that she was never sitting next to her son again at dinner. i was thinking the same exact thing about hannah as she continuously kicked me and laid on top of me while i was trying to eat. as we left, i said sarcastically, "well, happy mothers day!" and sarah responded with a tired and equally sarcastic, "yeah. thanks."
truth be told, i am sure it did mean a lot to the mommy. any time we all spend together can be read on her face as a warm glow. not a pregnant glow, but the kind of look that says that she is content and happy in that moment. fortunately for her and our family, i see that look a lot. it's not written all day every day, but it doesn't take a holiday or a forced effort to bring it out either. i guess (or hope) that's probably a good thing.
so, what should mother's day mean to hannah and caroline as they get older? hannah already knows that she makes a card for mommy at school. she knows that i asked her with special emphasis this morning to follow all of mommy's directions the first time that she is asked. other than that, though, what? i don't want them to feel dispassionate about "celebrating" mother's day just because i might. but i do think this. i think the closer mother's day comes to feeling like just a day because of how much love she feels from them on the other 364 days of the year, the better job we, as parents, will have done.
will we still get her surprise presents from time to time? i am sure we will. will we still go out to lunch or dinner to make sure that she doesn't have to cook or clean dishes on "her" day? probably so. but, will it feel like a holiday from all of those other days that she doesn't feel appreciated for the hard work that it is being a mom? i hope not, because if it does, i will have failed.
happy mothers day, sarah. from hannah and caroline and me. here's hoping tomorrow feels exactly the same. in a very good way.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
caroline's baptism
(hannah and caroline and me, part eleven)
sunday was an eventful day in the o'kelley household. it was the day that caroline was to be baptized. it was to be followed by a lunch with family and friends. it was a day that meant we had to clean up the house the day before. and it was, finally, a day we would close by celebrating rebecca and (mostly) emma's respective birthdays. it was a day. a good one at that.
even though it felt busy and, in fact, was, the day didn't seem hurried. i found my mind wandering as i was getting ready for bed and thought to myself that this is what an off day should feel like. productive. restful. accomplished. and good. nothing was forced. nothing was obligated. it was all the way we had planned and hoped and prepared for, and that's the way it should have been.
if you had asked me early sunday morning how i felt the day was going to go, i would've expressed worry. i left the house feeling "off" for reasons that i couldn't put my finger on. was it that i was nervous about the day? was it that my mom had called around 730 to tell me that she was sick and wouldn't be coming? was it that my father never returned e-mails or calls that i had left him in the two weeks leading up to sunday but i still worried that he would show up? i don't really know. it could've just been allergies. but as the day proceeded, the "off" fell to the side and i felt complete and content with how we realized caroline's day.
baptisms are showy things for sure, especially in the methodist church. the act, itself, is nothing more than a symbol for something that has already occurred. that being said, i don't mind the show. caroline won't remember it, so it's not for her. but i do like the visual and very appropriate metaphor that it should "take a village" for a baby christian to be raised. the parents vow to uphold their end, but if we are failing or having a bad day, the congregation behind us will be there to pick us up and carry us. at least, that's the idea. god's given us, parents and congregation alike, a job. today, on this day of caroline's baptism, you are to swear, before god, to do your part. at least, that's the idea. i have secretly wished for some kind of congregational accountability service with regards to our respective baptismal vows. ok, maude. when caroline is four and says, you know, "fuck" in her kindgergarten class, you will make sure that she knows that is not "appropriate" in the children's place. amy and katie, when caroline starts spending too much time with boys around the age of nine, you two will redirect her attention towards sports or dance or something other than boys. cookie, when caroline finds herself at the "wrong place at the wrong time" at the age of fifteen and is arrested, you will pick her up from jail so that her father will have more time to fight off the urge to kill her. marie, as her grandmother, you will tell caroline that there is no such thing as "true love" at age seventeen when she tries to convince you otherwise. everyone else? y'all make sure that caroline knows the books of the bible, the history of the methodist church, why methodists are better than baptists in every way and why we "must" get out of worship by 1100. we will reconvene 18 years from today to see how we did. amen.
realistically, in eighteen years, humc will have forgotten about caroline altogether because she thinks too much or will no longer be around. and thus, most of the responsibility falls on me and sarah. we're cool with that. for a morning, though, it felt good to be wrapped in the arms of the family of my church. and it felt even better to have my grandmother by my side as the lone representative of my side of the family. as a perfect example of grace and unconditional love that has always been there for me even when i do so little to deserve her never-ending praise and so poor of a job maintaining our relationship.
maybe my sunday felt so good that night because everything after 1100 fell underneath the umbrella of a very satisfying experience at church. or maybe it's because i spent the entire day with people that i care about and that truly care about me and, not once, did i feel like i had to force a smile or a conversation. sunday felt the way every day should feel. stripped of pretense and dishonesty, full of love and happiness.
18 years from now when i am telling caroline about the day that she was officially recognized as a child under god's care, it warms my heart to think of what a beautiful and perfect story it will be.
(hannah and caroline and me, part eleven)
sunday was an eventful day in the o'kelley household. it was the day that caroline was to be baptized. it was to be followed by a lunch with family and friends. it was a day that meant we had to clean up the house the day before. and it was, finally, a day we would close by celebrating rebecca and (mostly) emma's respective birthdays. it was a day. a good one at that.
even though it felt busy and, in fact, was, the day didn't seem hurried. i found my mind wandering as i was getting ready for bed and thought to myself that this is what an off day should feel like. productive. restful. accomplished. and good. nothing was forced. nothing was obligated. it was all the way we had planned and hoped and prepared for, and that's the way it should have been.
if you had asked me early sunday morning how i felt the day was going to go, i would've expressed worry. i left the house feeling "off" for reasons that i couldn't put my finger on. was it that i was nervous about the day? was it that my mom had called around 730 to tell me that she was sick and wouldn't be coming? was it that my father never returned e-mails or calls that i had left him in the two weeks leading up to sunday but i still worried that he would show up? i don't really know. it could've just been allergies. but as the day proceeded, the "off" fell to the side and i felt complete and content with how we realized caroline's day.
baptisms are showy things for sure, especially in the methodist church. the act, itself, is nothing more than a symbol for something that has already occurred. that being said, i don't mind the show. caroline won't remember it, so it's not for her. but i do like the visual and very appropriate metaphor that it should "take a village" for a baby christian to be raised. the parents vow to uphold their end, but if we are failing or having a bad day, the congregation behind us will be there to pick us up and carry us. at least, that's the idea. god's given us, parents and congregation alike, a job. today, on this day of caroline's baptism, you are to swear, before god, to do your part. at least, that's the idea. i have secretly wished for some kind of congregational accountability service with regards to our respective baptismal vows. ok, maude. when caroline is four and says, you know, "fuck" in her kindgergarten class, you will make sure that she knows that is not "appropriate" in the children's place. amy and katie, when caroline starts spending too much time with boys around the age of nine, you two will redirect her attention towards sports or dance or something other than boys. cookie, when caroline finds herself at the "wrong place at the wrong time" at the age of fifteen and is arrested, you will pick her up from jail so that her father will have more time to fight off the urge to kill her. marie, as her grandmother, you will tell caroline that there is no such thing as "true love" at age seventeen when she tries to convince you otherwise. everyone else? y'all make sure that caroline knows the books of the bible, the history of the methodist church, why methodists are better than baptists in every way and why we "must" get out of worship by 1100. we will reconvene 18 years from today to see how we did. amen.
realistically, in eighteen years, humc will have forgotten about caroline altogether because she thinks too much or will no longer be around. and thus, most of the responsibility falls on me and sarah. we're cool with that. for a morning, though, it felt good to be wrapped in the arms of the family of my church. and it felt even better to have my grandmother by my side as the lone representative of my side of the family. as a perfect example of grace and unconditional love that has always been there for me even when i do so little to deserve her never-ending praise and so poor of a job maintaining our relationship.
maybe my sunday felt so good that night because everything after 1100 fell underneath the umbrella of a very satisfying experience at church. or maybe it's because i spent the entire day with people that i care about and that truly care about me and, not once, did i feel like i had to force a smile or a conversation. sunday felt the way every day should feel. stripped of pretense and dishonesty, full of love and happiness.
18 years from now when i am telling caroline about the day that she was officially recognized as a child under god's care, it warms my heart to think of what a beautiful and perfect story it will be.
Saturday, May 03, 2008
why the season is officially (almost) over
note: i was much more prepared, mentally, to write this 24 hours ago before tim hudson went all "savior of the universe" on my ass last night, but i march forward anyway. i must lower my expectations here, in may, before i bury myself (and my family) under the weight of this expectation.
today is may 3rd. the atlanta braves have played 28 of their scheduled 162 games this season. any rational person would tell you that it is far too early to proclaim the 2008 season a failure. i am not a rational person. today is may 3rd, and i proclaim the braves 2008 campaign a magnificent and complete disappointment. these are the reasons why.
1) as noted by the link above, jayson stark of the worldwide leader projected the braves as his world series champion. i am not superstitious...usually. during spring training, i liked how the braves seemed to be coming together. their line-up on paper seemed pretty stout. the starting rotation and bullpen was as solid as it had been in several springs. but most of the national media kept talking up the mets and the phillies. "jimmy rollins said this." "carlos beltran said that." no one outside of the south was talking up the braves. and then jayson stark dropped this bombshell. someone as respected as stark giving props to your favorite team is never really a bad thing, but something funny happened on the way through the first month of the season. maybe due to starks' prediction, maybe not, but rather than the braves silently chewing up april wins while their competition was worried about when the phillies and mets were coming to town, the braves, all of a sudden, had a target on their back. this was not a good thing.
2) the starting pitching rotation coming out of spring:
hudson
smoltz
glavine
hampton
jurrjens
the starting rotation as of one month later:
hudson
glavine
jurrjens
jo-jo reyes
jeff bennett
as he proved again last night, hudson's still an ace. fine. he'll do his part. glavine is no longer a two guy. jurrjens has to remember he's a rookie at some point during the season even though he's been impressive. jo-jo is not ready for prime time. and bennett is terrible. and no, you didn't have to be one of the pre-cogs in minority report to have seen the hampton thing coming. but smoltz going down is a disaster. an effing disaster. that moves glavine up one spot and jurrjen up two. spots that i am not at all confident they are qualified for. and it leaves a gaping hole at the end of the rotation. the same hole the braves had last season and were never able to patch. the same hole that ended their season then. the same hole that is going to end their season now.
3) the bullpen coming out of spring:
soriano closing
moylan setting up
ohman and ring getting out lefties
acosta or boyer in the seventh
bennett and buddy carlisle getting the early inning calls to the bullpen
as of today:
acosta ('s not ready to be) closing
boyer and resop and ohman trying to do the eighth
ring struggling with lefties
carlisle doing his thing
campillo sucks (!!!)
moylan's hurt
soriano's hurt
this, my friends, is a clusterfuck, but there is potential for something quite special if, somehow (some way!!!), the braves could stay close for one more month.
potential pen in a month:
smoltz closing
mike gonzalez in the eighth
soriano in the seventh
everybody else pitches as rarely as possible
this is supposed to be a negative post, so i won't spend too much time romanticizing the potential wrecking ball that a healthy soriano, gonzalez, smoltz trio to end the game would be. i just won't.
4) injuries. chipper's quad. injuries. chipper's back. injuries.
kelly johnson's been nicked up. escobar has broken a fingernail (who breaks a fingernail?). francouer's got a gimpy foot. chipper could sneeze at any time and break a rib. every team deals with injuries. i get this. the best teams are the ones that can overcome those injuries and not use them as excuses. but, damn! the braves were healthy for about a week and when the wheels fell off, it felt like an amtrak accident. the bad tidings still haven't completely stopped and it's preventing the braves from going on any semblance of a winning streak. and it may all season. refer back to not having a fifth starter.
5) the phillies are good. so are the mets. and guess what? so are the marlins. and guess what else? the braves can't beat the nationals.
who do the braves play the majority of their games against? the four teams listed above. are they good enough to play .600-.625 ball against the four of them combined, which they'll have to do now to get out of the hole they dug for themselves in april?
my honest answer when i pose this question to myself this morning is, "no." and that changes everything. that changes my expectations for the season. and it, hopefully, will help me enjoy the braves wins a little more. hopefully, it will help the losses sting a little less. because the braves that, in my head, began the season with the playoffs as a legitimate goal are now a .500 team. 81 wins. 81 losses. that where i see them. and that is why the season is officially (almost) over.
smoltz. gonzalez. soriano. chipper playing the role of mvp. tim hudson playing the role of flash
gordon. come on, guys. give me some hope.
please.
note: i was much more prepared, mentally, to write this 24 hours ago before tim hudson went all "savior of the universe" on my ass last night, but i march forward anyway. i must lower my expectations here, in may, before i bury myself (and my family) under the weight of this expectation.
today is may 3rd. the atlanta braves have played 28 of their scheduled 162 games this season. any rational person would tell you that it is far too early to proclaim the 2008 season a failure. i am not a rational person. today is may 3rd, and i proclaim the braves 2008 campaign a magnificent and complete disappointment. these are the reasons why.
1) as noted by the link above, jayson stark of the worldwide leader projected the braves as his world series champion. i am not superstitious...usually. during spring training, i liked how the braves seemed to be coming together. their line-up on paper seemed pretty stout. the starting rotation and bullpen was as solid as it had been in several springs. but most of the national media kept talking up the mets and the phillies. "jimmy rollins said this." "carlos beltran said that." no one outside of the south was talking up the braves. and then jayson stark dropped this bombshell. someone as respected as stark giving props to your favorite team is never really a bad thing, but something funny happened on the way through the first month of the season. maybe due to starks' prediction, maybe not, but rather than the braves silently chewing up april wins while their competition was worried about when the phillies and mets were coming to town, the braves, all of a sudden, had a target on their back. this was not a good thing.
2) the starting pitching rotation coming out of spring:
hudson
smoltz
glavine
hampton
jurrjens
the starting rotation as of one month later:
hudson
glavine
jurrjens
jo-jo reyes
jeff bennett
as he proved again last night, hudson's still an ace. fine. he'll do his part. glavine is no longer a two guy. jurrjens has to remember he's a rookie at some point during the season even though he's been impressive. jo-jo is not ready for prime time. and bennett is terrible. and no, you didn't have to be one of the pre-cogs in minority report to have seen the hampton thing coming. but smoltz going down is a disaster. an effing disaster. that moves glavine up one spot and jurrjen up two. spots that i am not at all confident they are qualified for. and it leaves a gaping hole at the end of the rotation. the same hole the braves had last season and were never able to patch. the same hole that ended their season then. the same hole that is going to end their season now.
3) the bullpen coming out of spring:
soriano closing
moylan setting up
ohman and ring getting out lefties
acosta or boyer in the seventh
bennett and buddy carlisle getting the early inning calls to the bullpen
as of today:
acosta ('s not ready to be) closing
boyer and resop and ohman trying to do the eighth
ring struggling with lefties
carlisle doing his thing
campillo sucks (!!!)
moylan's hurt
soriano's hurt
this, my friends, is a clusterfuck, but there is potential for something quite special if, somehow (some way!!!), the braves could stay close for one more month.
potential pen in a month:
smoltz closing
mike gonzalez in the eighth
soriano in the seventh
everybody else pitches as rarely as possible
this is supposed to be a negative post, so i won't spend too much time romanticizing the potential wrecking ball that a healthy soriano, gonzalez, smoltz trio to end the game would be. i just won't.
4) injuries. chipper's quad. injuries. chipper's back. injuries.
kelly johnson's been nicked up. escobar has broken a fingernail (who breaks a fingernail?). francouer's got a gimpy foot. chipper could sneeze at any time and break a rib. every team deals with injuries. i get this. the best teams are the ones that can overcome those injuries and not use them as excuses. but, damn! the braves were healthy for about a week and when the wheels fell off, it felt like an amtrak accident. the bad tidings still haven't completely stopped and it's preventing the braves from going on any semblance of a winning streak. and it may all season. refer back to not having a fifth starter.
5) the phillies are good. so are the mets. and guess what? so are the marlins. and guess what else? the braves can't beat the nationals.
who do the braves play the majority of their games against? the four teams listed above. are they good enough to play .600-.625 ball against the four of them combined, which they'll have to do now to get out of the hole they dug for themselves in april?
my honest answer when i pose this question to myself this morning is, "no." and that changes everything. that changes my expectations for the season. and it, hopefully, will help me enjoy the braves wins a little more. hopefully, it will help the losses sting a little less. because the braves that, in my head, began the season with the playoffs as a legitimate goal are now a .500 team. 81 wins. 81 losses. that where i see them. and that is why the season is officially (almost) over.
smoltz. gonzalez. soriano. chipper playing the role of mvp. tim hudson playing the role of flash
gordon. come on, guys. give me some hope.
please.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)