finally


it's been a while since something interesting enough to write about has happened at the church, but a 500 lb. gorilla is lurking in the shadows, just waiting to get out.

the gorilla's name? the hispanics. that's right. nothing like a little racial tension to stir us out of our collective stupor, and, by george, we've been stirred.

the origin story of there even being a hispanic connection in huffman united methodist is shady at best. the reason for this is that it was one man's thing and that one man is now gone. rev. rick owen spoke (poorly) a little spanish and used that as a means to begin (broken) conversations with hispanic leaders in our community. or, so the story goes. while i was on staff, we just kind of took his word that these conversations were actually happening. we didn't see much proof of it. in huffman united methodist church, it takes months and months of meetings and conversation for anything new to happen (see: small groups and "diversity"). unless you are the senior pastor that is. if the senior pastor wants to push something through without the burden of red tape, it can happen. and it did (see: gracelink and the hispanic ministry).

well, lo and behold and all of a sudden, a group led by rev. ruben clemente was offered our parlor for worship services held in spanish that would take place after huffman's traditional worship service. the ministry has since found considerable foothold and made itself a significant presence in and around the church. we have shared a worship service or two with the "hispanic congregation". we have tried to embrace, as a church, our similarities and championed humc's growing diversity without paying much attention to the fact that we can't really communicate with the "hispanic congregation". nevertheless, the hispanic group is growing, which is a great thing. what we are starting to see, though, is that "they" are now growing into areas of the church that are making casual members stand up and take notice. after things ended up broken in the parlor, the hispanic group moved down to the youth center. youth break stuff all the time. no one will care if "they" are down there. well, no one but maybe the youth department and their parents. but they are growing small in number too, so they won't make too much noise. presently, the hispanic group worships in the "youth center" on sunday mornings. during the week, they hold various meetings and bible studies throughout the education building. this wasn't too big of a deal until shit started turning up missing. that and children's place teachers started finding their shit broken or their rooms in disarray. and now it's starting to become a big deal, which i think is awesome. on a lot of different levels.

the biggest point that will ultimately prove to be the biggest issue is whether huffman's english-speaking congregation and spanish-speaking congregation are one and the same, separated only by a language barrier. are we working towards to the same goal? the same mission (if i don't know our mission, my guess is that the hispanics do not either)? or is ruben's group just using our church as a place to worship and rent temporarily as if they are a church plant. either way is fine. in my opinion, it just needs to be defined. if we knew one way or another, we could process both group's motives as they relate to each other and move forward. right now, though, we are moving towards dark and tired territory.

i have realized, first-hand, that huffman's link to la iglesia de hispana de huffman, rev. ruben clemente, has a difficult time carrying on a conversation in english. most of his members can do no more than make eye contact with those of us not fluent in spanish. so, how exactly are we supposed to communicate? until we find a good and measured way to do so, racial tension will continue to build. stereotypes on either "side" of the issue are already being perpetuated. as a (former insider) born-again outsider, it's kind of fun and interesting to be a part of, but it's also kind of scary. churches are way too politically correct as it is. when it comes to race, we tend to become extremely pc. the last thing we would want to do is offend out of ignorance. but, the bottom line is that a decision was made for humc by a pastor that didn't ask the congregation for assistance, and now we are the united states trying to figure out what to do with an inconvenient situation that a former "commander-in-chief" has left us to handle.

do we ask ruben and his group to find somewhere else to worship? that sounds pretty close-minded and contrary to the united methodist slogan. or, do we ask the hispanic ministry to find ways to intentionally wire themselves into the current infrastructure of humc, the humc that is very white and not very open to change? that seems to set both the hispanic congregation and the "traditional" one up for failure.

so, what to do? what to do? our current senior pastor is not going to step on anyone's toes, which can be a good thing and a bad thing. our membership is pretty awesome, thank you, at passive-aggressively running people off that scare us out of our collective comfort zone. i don't know the answer. i am not sure if i've settled it all out in my head just yet. in the short term, though, if there are not some very evident boundaries and means of accountability set up very soon, things will be coming to a head in the not-too-distant future. and something will happen in the church that should never happen but always does. a line will be drawn in the sand and people will be asked, subconsciously, to take a side, further dividing the local and universal church and further proving everyone that laughs at christianity's grand efforts correct in their assessment that we have no idea what we are doing.

should be interesting to see how it all plays out. and believe me, it will play out.

"let those that have ears to hear (english), hear."

and what of those that don't?

i am not peyton manning

through two weeks of flag football, my vital statistics read as such. three touchdown passes, four interceptions (one pick six) and zero wins. that's it. that's all you need to know. as quarterback of the birminghamandcheese, i have been downright horrible. i wish i could fall back on the tried and true cliche' of it being a long season, but it really isn't. we probably have to go 4-2 the rest of the way to even have a chance of sneaking into the playoffs. could it happen? sure, i guess. is it probable? well, you are asking the wrong person, only 24 hours removed from me completely ruining 11 guys' perfect sunday afternoon. i don't regret taking on the role of quarterback. i think i can do well, but, shit. every position on the field is dependant on the decisions and throws that i make. yesterday, not one of either was positive.

i hope i feel better about things in a couple days. i hope i can get excited again about playing and having a good time with my friends. right now, i feel like an incredibly less-talented version of ryan leaf. full of potential and expectations, signifying nothing. ugh.

in other dreadful news, the dog whisperers have already passed on the idea of darren mcfadden as their future and promised 15 million dollars to a back-up running back that has scored six touchdowns in his four-year career. awesome. the only thing that could make that decision any worse is if he is going to share carries with a guy from mississippi state. oh, wait.

is it softball season yet?

"parole tide"?
(is this alabama football?)


roy upchurch
jeremy elder
rashad johnson
prince hall
glen coffee
antoine caldwell

it's probably unfair to lump all of these names together, but they are linked by the fact that they play (or played in the case of elder) football at the university of alabama. they are also linked by the unfortunate fact that they have all had some sort of off-the-field "issue" that became headline news around the state or around the country. these issues range from not adhering to a university textbook policy to getting arrested late at night in or around a bar to "breaking team rules" to first degree robbery (the latter is referring to elder, of course, and he has been dismissed from the team.). because of the sheer number of incidents, talking heads around town are clenching their teeth and just short of saying that saban has "lost control". i've heard he needs to "make an example" out of one of the players so that, in the future, other players will see that there are considerable consequences for putting oneself above the team. and, honestly, i get that.

i am a big fan of doing things "the right way". case in point, this past sunday, some friends and i played our first flag football game of the season. we had nine of our own guys show up sporting the birminghamandcheese gold and black, and we were ready to play. because we are either old or not fast or too new at the game to be considered anything other than recreational, we entered our team into the lowest level the league offers (i played in this same league last spring, mind you, and it's far from crappy.). the team that we were supposed to play sunday showed up short-handed and ended up picking up three "a"-league guys to fill out their roster. now, at the time, i couldn't have cared less. i just wanted to play. i wouldn't have cared if the team picked up randy moss and michael vick. i was ready to go. afterwards, though, losing to them felt a little dirty. all of their big plays were made by their pick-ups, and, in some ways, we felt like something was amiss. did we regret playing? absolutely not. but did we wonder if the result might have been a little different if their "real" team was there. yeah, kinda.

then again, these things happen to us all the time. in softball and basketball and now flag football, we know exactly who we will show up with every time we set out. a group of friends and co-workers that are kind of athletic, kind of not, but all of us wanting to compete and have a good time and extend the shelf-life of our athletic "careers". we don't pick up hoops ringers. we would rather play with three outfielders than pick up some random guy that may be good but we don't know. and we don't ask if you've played high school or college football before we extend an invite to play flag with us. we play first and ask questions later.

and keeping the last two paragraphs in mind, i can completely understand why outsiders and auburn fans alike would look at the discipline problems that have popped up since saban arrived and waive their collective fingers at alabama and wish the stiffest penalties upon the players involved so that, hopefully, it will affect the team the "parole tide" puts on the field in a negative way. absolutely, i can. but at the same time, i am reminded of how little i care about the repercussions and of how hopeful i am that saban give them all second and third chances so that they can be ready to go come the clemson game.

do i want my teams, the teams that i play on, to do things "the right way" and always abide by the rules? yep. always have. always will. if nothing else, if gives us a wonderful excuse (and makes us feel better) when other teams do not and we happen to lose to them.

do i want alabama's football team to do things "the right way"? um. maybe. sometimes. well...

ok, not really. it's not that i hope they don't. it's just that i hope they win football games more. and not having prince hall available would kind of hurt, you know?

so, stay out of trouble, guys. but if trouble happens to find you, here's hoping saban understands how "good of a person" you are and still lets you play saturday.

when things go your way


what does it say that the best thing that has happened to the dog whisperers in the last year happened on a friday morning almost three full weeks removed from the end of the actual football season? well, it means they have a better chance at being on the winning end of a coin-flip battle than they have at winning a real-life football game. kinda sad. but win a coin-flip they did yesterday and, thus, set the stage for the renewed hope that comes with every nfl draft and the fresh season that will then only be four months or so away.

as a falcons fairweather fan, it's been hard to follow a team that is waaaaay more of a story on msnbc and cnn than they are on espn. crazy how the face of your team killing dogs can do that. but with most of that behind them (along with the completely ridiculous cherry on top of their coach leaving for arkansas), things seem more quiet in the "dirty" than they have in a long, long time. no one knows anything about their coach (probably a good thing). they have one overrated cornerback, one blossoming uab blazer and maybe a couple other guys on their team that anyone outside of the team manager would recognize. they are the definition of a team that is ready to rebuild. to refocus. a team that needs a new face.

in my mind, there is only one choice. and his name is mcfadden. it made me incredibly upset watching sportscenter yesterday and hearing their draft expert tell me that they would probably go with dorsey from lsu or jake long from michigan at the three. or if he is there, they would pick a new "franchise" quarterback in matt ryan. matt ryan!!! the same matt ryan that played at boston college for 11 years and only as an 11th year supersenior did he make a name for himself??? that matt ryan? the falcons had matt ryan last year. his name was joey harrington. does anyone remember this? of course you don't. because, you don't care about the falcons. and, quite frankly, neither do i. at least, not a ton. but i would if they picked mcfadden. and isn't that all that matters? do you want to make a football choice or a financial choice, owner arthur blank? do you want to make a coach choice or a fan choice? do you want to build for the "future" or sell jerseys and tickets now? do you want me (and people like) me to drive from birmingham to atlanta to see a potential superstar in person or not watch an all-american tackle on television at home. to me, it seems so easy. to me, the choice is clear.

then again, to me, mike vick has learned his lesson, should be given credit for time served, be released and allowed to play for the falcons this upcoming season. i am a (fairweather) fan. i am not capable of making rational decisions about the teams i want to win.

so, go ahead. pick the tackle (offensive or defensive). build for the future. i'll be watching the colts.

tortured

this is the kind of image (can you tell i am on a little getty images kick?) that i remember when i think of kurt cobain. staring off into space. in my head, what he is thinking is that i want to be anywhere but here. anywhere other than in front of an audience that has paid to see me. out of sight of this camera off stage that is waiting patiently to capture a moment in my life that someone (like me) will use to define me. i don't want to be here, because i wasn't prepared for my life to be an open book. for my music that i love to be thrust into a machine that calls for my band to be in certain places at certain times to write certain hooks to make certain money. i wasn't prepared for this. i am not prepared for this. i don't want to prepare for this.

that's only in my head, of course. i wish it wasn't that way. i wish that what i remember from the one time that i saw nirvana play live was a frontman that was killing it onstage, having the time of his life and rip-roaring through his band's catalog like it might be his last chance to perform those songs ever. but that wasn't the case. don't get me wrong. the concert, the smoky, pot-ty concert was real and loud and amazing just like i wanted it to be, but it wasn't because of kurt cobain as much as it was i was at a fucking nirvana concert. for all i know, they could have been pumping nevermind through the pa system and had stagehands dressed up as the band. i wasn't close enough to know for sure. but that didn't really matter. what mattered was the experience. what mattered was that i was there. and that i would be able to tell my friends the next day what a second-hand high at a nirvana concert felt like. i wish i could remember what year, exactly, that was. i know it was at boutwell auditorium. i know where "there" was, just not when. not that it makes any difference. remembering life-defining experiences doesn't usually hinge on details. details would just get in the way of a good story that i probably changed each of the hundred times i told it.

as life-defining experiences go, this one, this concert seems fairly minimal as compared to the births of my girls, my wedding day, certain moments during my life as a church staffer, working in huffman and conversations that i've had over ribs or at o'charley's in roebuck or in the pool at gulf shores plantation. shoot, as concerts go, i think i had a more kick-ass (and definitely more of a second-hand high) time in the second circle of hell that was some warehouse in atlanta where i saw limp bizkit. but the nirvana one stands out above the others because of what happened a couple years later. when cobain killed himself. and the tortured part of his story, the romantic and cool part, became tragic. hearing the news of his death was what burned the above image, or something like that, into my brain. all the questions about what he was thinking about while he was staring off into space would now go unanswered and i'd be left to fill in my own blanks. it's kind of like if lost were to never air another new episode. all the loose ends would depend on my tying them up in my own imagination. i wouldn't like that one bit, no sir. there are too many questions in life as it is. there are some things in this world that i request be served to me. serialized tv shows coming to their natural and decided end are one of them (damn you, twin peaks and x-files!!!) another is for "tortured artists" not to kill themselves. is that too much to ask???

experiences, life-defining ones, are drawn from all sorts of perspectives and angles. i, more than likely, would not like nirvana today if they were still around and had kurt cobain found happiness. they'd probably suck. and i feel guilty, somtimes, for drawing inspiration and/or motivation from someone meeting their premature end because they "couldn't deal with it anymore." but the world needs those people. we need our cautionary tales just as much as we need our trivial tales. without one, the other wouldn't have nearly the same impact. it's sad, but true.

we are all tortured, right? we wouldn't have it any other way. what kind of boring life life would that be? one without pain, confusion, constant questions, regrets, death, destruction, terror, unrequited love, divorce, disease?

oh, that's right. it would be heaven.

go jesus.

dwight howard

(again)

was this post prescient? selfishly, i would argue, "yes". not that i was the only person in the world calling dwight howard a superhero after his sticker dunk last year. i was only one voice among the masses that were ready to hail dwight howard as our king. last year, we nominated him. this year? he won the election.

i won't fawn too much over him. i didn't even get to see it live. i was indisposed at our church's wildly successful spaghetti supper. but i watched the highlights when i got home from church today. and oh. my. god.

most dunk contests, you are lucky if you get one bright and shining moment to remember it by. this year, dwight had three of them (and gerald green had one. that's four! four bright and shining moments!!!). from bouncing the ball off the back of the backboard, to the superman dunk, to the left-handed tip off the board to himself, all were elegant and powerful and athletic in ways that i cannot even dream. i am serious. when and if i dream of dunking a basketball, it may be something like a stiff, two-handed jam in the lane. what dwight howard did last night was outside the realm of my imagination. just incredible.

so, here's to you dwight howard, basketball god. good job by you.

off the subject, but funny still i found it to read the last couple paragraphs of my post from this time last year. i haven't come very far in my search for "answers" yet and the momentum for church i picked up in late 2007 has completely waned. i guess i can't and shouldn't count on dwight howard, nba basketball freak, to bring me out of my mire. i won't ask him to save me. the nba dunk contest is quite enough, thank you.

"how do you prove a negative?"
(hannah and caroline and me, part eight)


you really can't escape this roger clemens stuff, can you? even if you pay far less attention to sports than i do, it's everywhere. and it's past annoying isn't it? i don't feel bad for roger clemens. i just wish he would go away. retire already. you no longer take part in the games and the pastime that will begin anew in a little over a month, so just hide away. pull a mark mcgwire. run from your lies. we'll forget eventually.

anyway, that's not what i wanted to talk about this morning. i was watching espn's first take about an hour ago and, as part of their clemens coverage, they had on, as a guest, a body language expert. she proved, to me, to be the only interesting commentator concerning this months-long mess that i've seen. part of her job is to watch, learn and study a person's behavior while giving testimony and see if they show any "tells" while they are speaking that might prove the words that are coming out of their mouth aren't entirely truthful. and she ripped roger clemens apart. even from the very beginning of the hearing yesterday, by watching the rocket's mannerisms, she could tell that he was preparing to deceive. it was quite fascinating to witness her dissection of the hearing and how the "hall of fame" pitcher differed in his "delivery" when compared to brian mcnamee. one thing she said, though, stood out to me and and sent my brain in a new and more relevant direction.

i am paraphrasing, but it was something like...

"in my opinion, the difference between a person that is lying and a person that is telling the truth is whether they are trying to convince or to convey. roger clemens was very convincing. he did a wonderful job at trying to make the committee believe that what he was saying was truthful. but when you are conveying, you don't have to "prove a negative". you just have to tell the truth."

do you know what the first thing was that popped into my head when the body language expert uttered these words? it was humc's choir director stopping the congregation and pleading with us to "sing louder." "don't you fools get it? god, himself, is looking down on you and can not be one bit happy at the volume of your collective voices. now clear your freakin' throats and let's raise the roof off this motherscratchin' sanctuary." <cue kirk franklin's revolution> (note: the second quote played more in my head than in reality.) you are right, allen. fuck this introspective shit i am trying right now. margaret, play something that we hear all the time! it's time to get loud up in here.

and i couldn't help but think that this is why we are failing at the buisiness of being a church. and why sarah and julie and the rest of the children's place advisory board have their work cut out for them when it comes to trying to convince huffman united methodist that the daycare is worth it's weight in "apples" and worth the time and energy that is being poured into it by an incredibly small percentage of our membership. because we are too busy trying to convince ourselves and, to a lesser degree, trying to convince others that we are christians. and that's not to say that we and i aren't, but who, exactly, are we trying to convince?

case in very simple point. we can take hannah and caroline to church. we can read the bible together. we can read scripturally based books. we can watch and sing along to veggietales. we can find tons of reasons and ways to convince our offspring that jesus is the way, the truth and worthy of following. and if that is all that we do, in twenty years, they will be no more close to a true relationship with their creator than they are now at four years and five months old, respectively.

as a church, local, and a church, universal, who are we trying to convince that we are christians? the unchurched homeless families across town? really? why not the "angels" and their families that live right next to us and travel through our parking lots after school or, god forbid, the ones that come through our door five days out of the week? listen, i am all for mission and experiences outside of what we know, but can we truly claim to take care of others if we can't take care of ourselves? who are we trying to convince?

and that's just it. this convince vs. convey problem, for the moment, makes me loathe the idea of going to church. i am sure my sunday school class and others can read it. sarah tells me that you don't have to be a body-language expert to know that something is off with me. but i feel like i am drowning inside a place that, as a collective, is having a hard time conveying the love of christ because we are too busy convincing each other and "others" of our christian love.

of course, there are individual exceptions. many, in fact. of course, not all is lost. this is where i am. today. but it's also why cuss words and the like don't mean much in the grand scheme of things. hannah and caroline will ultimately decide for themselves what type of faith they subscribe to. i wouldn't have it any other way. but they will also know, in addition to their secular and christian education ( both of which are not only important, but vital), that i love them and that i love jesus. it won't be something that i have to prove. it will be there on the surface, conveyed to them and for all to see.

i'll just have to tell the truth.

these people would not approve of me.
(that's probably not an altogether bad thing.)


it's way lazy for me to ape a deadspin post, let alone a weekend deadspin post, and put it here so that i can feel better about not putting any real time into writing this weekend, but this was too good to pass up. i ask you to read this and be amused. if you feel led, let me know how it strikes you in the comments. the deadspin commenters do a great job, as usual, splitting the issue's lip like a young tyson, but it's hard to not feel like this is where we are headed as a christian society.

in our churches that battle with what degree we should let the secular world integrate itself into our traditions and routines, this also strikes me as particularly timely since my sunday school class talked about (and planned to talk more...knock on wood.) practicing our beliefs in the gray areas of our denomination this morning. groups like the christian defense coalition cannot operate in anything but a black and white world. in their world, you cannot say certain words. that is that. if you don't practice what they preach, you are wrong. there isn't a whole lot of grace or gospel-style "love" in that stance, but it's their bag. take it or leave it.

i struggle with these types of "black and white" christians, because it feels like they've limited themselves in their ability to grow and relate to the secular heathens they would confess they are witnessing to. not that there is anything wrong with structure and discipline. as i shared this morning with my friends, without finding some structure in his life that he could buy into, i think my brother, brian, would tell you, himself, that he would still be broken and looking for answers in the wrong places.

obviously, there is the opposite extreme. other people, even church people, completely reject any and all black and white concerns because they see themselves as smarter than the average bear or operating on a higher level than the rest of us and, thus, make their own rules up as they go along. more power to this group, but i think it can be equally damaging to one's growth.

so, it's confusing, just like everything is. chris perry and i constantly debated this as we tried to find common ground, pun intended (you like that, chris???), with those that we were trying to serve in huntsville. how much rope do we tie to ourselves as we jump away from our mission and priority, that being god, into the waters of "the world"? how much slack do we allow ourselves so that we can, realistically, know that we can be pulled back without our "walk" being permanently damaged or corrupted.

i don't know the answer, but i do know this. the christian defense coalition and organizations of their like piss me off, because they give me a bad name. they give my priority and mission a bad name. and they make my heart hurt, because a life with jesus in your heart should dictate you being more warm and more open to those that you disagree with, not the other way around.

until the answer comes more into focus, i'll be painting my town black, white and gray all over.

why julio matters


since it's late, let me go ahead and make my point first and then, if all the rambling afterwards doesn't make sense, it won't matter if i lose my way. my point is this. whether julio jones ever plays a snap for the alabama crimson tide or not makes zero difference to how instrumental, if not monumental, his signing today was to bringing alabama "back". none. zip. nada. the damage is done. and if you are an auburn fan or a tennessee fan or a fan of any college team other than alabama, you should be concerned at the very least. at the very most, you should be terrified.

today was the day that alabama fans have hoped for. it was the day that alabama fans, like me, that weren't truly aware during bear bryant's golden years have pined for. it was the day that the national title in 1992 suggested at but was never allowed to come to fruition due to a series of blunders, bad decisions and, let's face it, crimson "fans" breaking rules. it was the day that all of the school's resources, money, big name coaches and no-name super-recruiters joined together in perfect sync to draw the most impressive group of high school seniors to tuscaloosa ever (try not to get blinded by all the stars). ever.

and the leader? the moses that anchored the group that will be remembered for years to come, barring anything illegal or unforseen, as the class that announced alabama's return? his name is julio. julio jones. why is he the name above all names? why is he more important today than burton or tyler or even star? because he's already a legend. if you are even a casual college football fan, if someone says the name, "julio", you know who they are referring to. to some in this state, he's already an icon. he will soon be a brand. why? because according to the worldwide leader in sports, he the most gifted high school senior in the nation. not just the state. not just the southeast. the. nation. he is the most high profile athlete ever to pick alabama (to this day, i still feel jilted by tim heisman) and it's not just us, the fans, that noticed. it's the high school seniors that came to alabama to play with him. it's the high school juniors that will want to come next year. it's the parents (the ones that live through the accolades of their children) of high school sophmores and freshmen that heard, today, that alabama was now shown in lights, decorated with tinsel, no longer clouded with the suspicion of being past it's prime.

because julio came today, others (and by others, i mean five and four-star others) will come tomorrow. and the next year. and the next. and hopefully by the time julio leaves to be a top ten pick in the nfl, alabama will have re-settled into the perennial power it used to be and that will be enough, not just a coach and resources and money and no-name super-recruiters, to lure the crop that will take the reigns from him.

it's an exciting day to be an alabama football fan because it is a day filled with hope. a day that builds on the hope that a new coach brought with him just over a year ago. a day that will underscore how fortunate the sec has been to have had alabama backed into a corner for years. for years, alabama has been swinging aimlessly with eyes wide shut and with less than a fully-loaded gun, only occasionally striking a knockout blow (see: tennessee, 2007). a young man, probably unknowingly for the most part, has ushered in something new.

why does julio matter? because everything just changed. here's hoping it feels familiar.

mommy turns 30

over the lifespan of this blog, you haven't seen too many "odes to sarah". and there are good reasons for that. firstly, that is not really the purpose for which this blog is intended. secondly, you would think that if there was anyone in this world that i would be able to communicate with person to person, face to face, cell phone to cell phone, and not have to trust my measured and deliberate blog posts to accurately affirm how special that person is, it would be my wife. you would think that, but you would be wrong. well, most of the time you would be.

if there has been one "sacred cow" as it relates to my sharing myself and my life with the internet-viewing public, it's been my marriage. it wouldn't be fair to me or to sarah to play out the daily peaks and valleys that both of our emotions go through online. it just wouldn't. and as it regards this site's centered mission, my hope is that our girls will notice first-hand how much i care for sarah and she for me and that anything in the future that they may read about along those lines would be overkill.

so, today's post will be an exception to my rule. but a lovely exception, indeed.

it's hard to remember, at this point, my life without sarah. so much has changed since september of 2000. so much has changed that when i try to put the last seven years into some sort of context, i need a sun to revolve my shady and sometimes muddled memories around. that sun, of course, has been sarah. i don't really know what she saw in me when we first met. she would probably tell you that i was nice and shy and different from certain boys she had wasted her time with before. she would probably tell you the story of how i wouldn't ask her to dance at our friends' wedding and she would leave out the part that it was, most likely, the champagne that loosened her up enough to ask me. she would probably tell you that our first conversation was nothing out of the ordinary but maybe everything out of the ordinary at the same time. she would probably tell you that, had she never called me after the wedding, i would have never called her (she'd be wrong.). and then she could tell you that i rightly played the role of gentleman when we went out to eat at some lousy diner that "had good vegetables" and never once did i think of telling her that such a place was quite foreign to me.

i don't remember too many specific details of our courtship. then again, i don't remember a lot of things. my brain is funny that way. i remember it was relatively short. i remember i gave her the crappiest, most boring proposal story that she ever could have imagined. and then we got married. and it was good. our honeymoon provided just the right amount of perfection and funny stories that ended up working out for our best that we glow about it today just like we did immediately after we got back.

for five and a half years now, she has come to understand how truly imperfect i really am. i have upset her. i have made her happy. i have dragged her through the mud and then helped to wipe her off. i have assisted her in making two beautiful girls. we are failing miserably (or triumphing brilliantly, depending on who you ask) at keeping their formative and most impressionable years free from curse words and reality tv. for the time we have been married, we have been very...human. case studies, even, in how it is not natural for selfish people to live together in "harmony" under the same roof and live to tell a completely happy tale. the trade-offs that we have made with and for each other have not been fair and balanced. she has never asked me to give up something i enjoy. she has never told me that i suck at basketball and that my attitude after losing a softball game makes her want to leave me. she has never told me that i am a dick for how i deal with my parents. she has never once questioned my spotty and sometimes spiteful relationship with god. she has never made me eat green beans. she has never told me that, if i cherished time on earth with my family, i should never eat a kikerburger again. she is always positive. always pleasant. even when she's sad. even when i am looking for a fight.

i, on the other hand, am not always so understanding. my wants, even when governed, feel like they should trump hers. i am a baby. i whine. currently, she is completely engrossed with saving my church's daycare, serving as a wonderfully vivid metaphor for the (way longer) time that i could not see past my staff responsibilities at the same church and in huntsville long enough to see her. and while i am proud of her and root for her success and wish for her to be involved to the point that she is no longer kevin's unseen "better-half", i want her home. i want her help. i need to be sure of her. nevermind that she is doing all this extracurricular championing on top of her "day job". nevermind that it is the most glorious and glaring example of "what church should be" that any member of our congregation is currently displaying. nevermind the bollocks. i just want my wife home. right?

of course not. of course i want her to share the same passion for what i believe is important. for my fuse and motivation have been extinguished with buckets of apathy and shortsightedness. the o'kelley's must represent. and she is fucking representing.

today, my sarah turns 30. she's nervous about it, because it sounds "old". she knows it's just a number and she knows she's being silly. the "sense of doom" that she feels is altogether natural and horrifying at the same time. mortality winking its twitchy little eye at you is never an easy feeling. she has been looking in my direction for comfort and there is little that i can offer that will help. tomorrow, she'll think about it less. and less the next day. she won't be fooling herself. that's just how it works. as miserable as we'd like to think that we are most of the time, there is way too much good to dwell on to worry with being sad constantly. life is good. depression is the art of telling yourself otherwise.

i am going to be fiercely honest. my life is good because of my sun, my sarah. there is no other reason. there is no other rhyme. that's it. yes, there are other good things and good friends and good family in my life. but my life is good because of her. and on this, the day of her 30th birthday, i will tell her that in many ways. and i will tell her that here, so she can read it at work and hopefully be happy. so she can reminisce some and remember that work isn't really that important, at least not today. i will tell her here so that none of you (and by you, i mean me.) will ever confuse my happiness with something as trivial as eli vick making me a giants fan for a quarter or the possibility of a high-school senior coming to play a game for a school i didn't attend.

finding the true meaning of my life and understanding what joy is and should be are gifts given to me by my god.

my happiness is rooted in the person that will share, in every way, the rest of my journey here on earth and, if we are lucky, for eternity.

happy birthday, sarah. i love you.

"...the beginning of the end"

(life gets better tonight)

actually, life got a little better last night with the encore performance of one of the best two hours of television i have ever witnessed. those two hours were the lost, season 3, finale, "through the looking glass.", the episode that redefined the endless possibilities for the show through the mind-blowing realization at the end of the event that we had just witnessed lost's first "flash-forward". not only was taking that trip again last night a more than pleasurable experience even on the second go-round, but abc made it even more worthwhile in creating a "pop-up" experience to go along with the show. unbelievable. i was tense as i watched (and read) last night, though i knew everything that was about to happen. that's one of the reasons that my crush on this show grows worse with each new chapter. not only is the story as deep and interesting as anything that's been on television since the x-files, but the creators and masterminds that make and design the show are absolute experts in pacing and suspense. in addition to that, they are so fully aware of the universe they've created and the (larger than your average) cult that lives vicariously in it that they know exactly what buttons to push in order to manipulate our experience into being as gripping as possible.

have there been a couple missteps along the journey? sure. the nikki and paulo storyline was annoying. the nikki/paulo-centric show that buried them for good was an unnecessary exercise in style and a bit too reactive to every lost fan wanting them to go away, but it was still worth watching. the weird scheduling of the show has been bothersome and after finally getting it right and deciding to do the final three seasons in three separate, 16 consecutive week jolts, this idea looks now to be interrupted by the stupid writer's strike. when will we get to see the second half of season four??? who knows. let's wait and worry about that two months from now.

and so, tonight, season four cometh. if you are not on the island yet, it's not too late. the two-hour night of fabulous-ness this evening kicks off with a recap hour that will take a look back at the main storylines that we've followed through the first three seasons. the most reverential to the show, mainstream media critic you will find, doc jensen of entertainment weekly, gives us his preseason cheat sheet here.

if you are not watching this show and claim to like things that are better than american idol, you are either being stubborn or foolish. if you like suspense, this show is for you. if you like romance, there is a romantic quadrangle (thank you, pop-up lost) to die for. if you've ever questioned your faith, the island can be your sanctuary. if you've ever found yourself blindly following or in love with someone or something so deeply that you would risk your life and the lives of others for it, there are at least four separate storylines, just tonight, you could find solace in. if you like being invested in something that you can talk about with your friends for hours, watch the premiere and you'll be hooked. i promise. if i am wrong, you can tell me tomorrow.

do i sound urgent? am i placing too much importance in my (and your) viewing a television show? you are damn right i am. because even the most enlightened of us watch tv. sometimes to escape. sometimes to drone out. sometimes, selfishly, to remind ourselves that our lives aren't as crappy as the people on reality tv or that "we" are a lot smarter than "them". so, if we are all going to waste some time with our friend, the tv, you might as well waste time with the best it has to offer, right?

in the season 3 opener, the image of others-ville was branded into my long-term memory. i can only imagine what awaits tonight.

jacob, my initial reaction will be on your blog tonight. fare thee well to those that think they are too cool, too good, too smart, too busy or "watch too much tv already to add another show to my free time." it's your loss.

it's my lost.

when espn personalities go wrong

there are days that i sit and wish that someone would pay me to blog about sports all day. then there are days i think that and then remember that market is probably already covered. if i were being paid, though, and didn't have to wait until i had a free hour or so to sit down and post, i wouldn't be five days late on all of this hitting the fan. it really is an interesting non-story, so if you haven't been reading a lot of sports blogs this week, i'd recommend you catching yourself up. if this hits the week of the super bowl and not the week before the big game, not only would this have not had "legs", but there's a good chance we never would have heard about it. the short version is that dana jacobson, co-host of espn2's weekday morning show, first take, went and got herself a lot drunk at a roast for espn radio and tv personalities mike and mike. during her sloppy, "funny" rant in the direction of notre dame alum, mike golic, dana vomits out, among other things, "f... notre dame.", "f... touchdown jesus." and, for good measure, "f... jesus." awesome. now, there are all sorts of things to take into account here, mind you. first, it's a roast. these things tend to get nasty on their way to and from being funny. the event wasn't televised, so it's not like the wasted talking head was spewing her anti-everything venom at 8 year-olds hoping to catch some world series of poker. and, of course, she was drunk. not that that excuses anything, but i have never heard a drunk person utter any one original thought. the booze had eliminated all filters and common sense from her rational brain and replaced those things with memories of frat parties fused with some bad andrew "dice" clay routine and out came her weak attempt at "getting the party started".

espn has suspended jacobson for a week, for whatever it is worth. she's come out and said she was stupid. she really doesn't hate notre dame or jesus. well, maybe not jesus. and now, her bosses are putting the story to bed. everyone seems to be getting in super bowl mode, except for one vocal group that has blown up local sports-talk radio shows all week. that group? you guessed it. christians.

oh, how the christians that took the time to call in and bitch about this story were offended. i heard callers talk about how jacobson should be fired. how she is a metaphor for what a persecuted group christians in this country are now becoming. i heard suggestions of a boycott of espn. i heard almost everything except the first phone call offering some grace in the direction of the disgraced anchor. maybe i've just been listening at the wrong time. maybe the morning drive guys were screening out all the reasonable callers to help their ratings and stir their "christian" listeners into a frenzy. maybe. or maybe this is just another example of what makes me sad about my religion in general.

my religion that people are tuning out at a scary rate. my religion that makes me think that i don't blame them. i wondered on several occasions last week if these callers, these christians had taken time, before they called, to think about their worst mistake ever. the kind of mistake that you don't tell people about. the kind of mistake that you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. after thinking about their worst mistake, i wondered if they thought about that mistake being broadcast on youtube or the evening news and, all of a sudden, they found themselves branded with a scarlet whatever letter according to their "crime." i thought about that. and then i thought if the world or, hell, my friends knew of my worst mistake that they probably wouldn't want to be my friend anymore. that the world would find it pretty easy to make fun of me.

i thought about my worst mistakes again this morning in sunday school when the latter part of our discussion revolved around how to handle sharing a church with people that screw up or make us uncomfortable.

after leaving sunday school, like i have several times this week, i thought about grace. receiving grace. offering grace. how, in theory, grace is a marvelous thing. in practice, though, we are lacking most of the time. at least, in the offering department we are. we are so brutally quick to judge. to convict. to damage. to throw stones. and people who are on the fence with the whole god and jesus thing must look at us and either laugh or rejoice that they are not part of our club.

i want to be a part of a club that i don't have to make excuses for. a place where, if i fall, someone will be there to pick me up immediately. not wait and pick me up after they've talked about me behind my back and let enough time pass to "forgive" me of my sins.

dana jacobson, drinking too much and then poking fun at people isn't my cup of tea. i actually think it's kind of a waste of time. i don't want to sound like i am defending the actual acts that motivated people to start poking you with a stick. so, you screwed up.

don't we all?

i don't really know you, but...

(hannah and caroline and me, part seven)

never has any one image gotten me as stoked to see or do anything as this picture amped up my impatience to see the new batman movie coming out this summer. there is hype for something unseen as evidenced by the recent marketing campaign for cloverfield or what we've seen in the past for movies like godzilla, blair witch project or jurassic park. but the above image is something different. like the ads for the aforementioned movies, the image of heath ledger as joker implies a danger or a monster lurking in the shadows, but it also defines that danger with enough subtlety (or lack thereof) that our imagination is left with countless directions to go in as we, the moviegoer, must wait for months, still, before we see the new incarnation of an old enemy come to life onscreen.

today, heath ledger died. a bummer indeed even for someone like me that wasn't necessarily a heath ledger "fan". but a bummer still for with any loss, we are forced to race back into reality and be sad for this person we didn't know and ask who of those left behind will comfort the ones hurt most by his passing. we are ripped away from our art as escapism and view the scary image and coming movie for what they are, distractions.

distractions from hurt. distractions from confusion. from anger. from pain. from mourning. from the fact that life is way too fragile for us to actually comprehend most of the time.

hannah fell out of her chair tonight at dinner. she's ok. a little embarrassed, but she's fine. she was never in any real danger of seriously hurting herself by falling out of her chair, but the chair was just a metaphor. "listen to your parents or life will hurt you." after tonight, she can go one of two ways. she can remember the bump from the floor and sit on her bottom from now on. or she can remember the pain only lasting a minute, not being nearly as bad as we had led her to believe and now ask us for a taller chair to sit in during dinner because now she is looking for a new and more dangerous risk involved with not listening to her parents.

caroline hasn't had a brush with danger yet, but she will. it's really a wonder how parents ever sleep at night with as many things that "could" go wrong at any given moment of any given day.

please forgive my weak attempt to link the passing of a celebrity to the anxiety that comes with being a father to the want to never think about anything serious. i have to believe my head being in the clouds the last few weeks is as close as i'll ever get to being "hormonal". but today, for whatever reason, i'll attach a new and more significant meaning to the coolest movie poster i've ever seen aside from a young anakin skywalker casting the shadow of darth vader. and i'll think of my children. and never wanting them to leave the house. and forcing them to home school. and listen to nothing but veggietales. and only watch pbs cartoons. and v-chip mtv. and never cuss. and only watch fox news. and then...

i'll wake up.

if you ask me, i don't know anything

props to free darko for pointing me in the direction of this killer photo.

it's almost been two weeks since the latest robbery at the store. two weeks to digest that i very well could have died in the backroom of a pet supply store if i didn't play my cards right. two weeks to second-guess my decision to leave three of my employees trapped in the office with the second gunman while i escaped to get help. almost two weeks to go over and over and over every minute detail of the event. two weeks of watching the video every single morning when i get to the store like it's a bad car wreck that i can't avoid and can't help but remind myself of. two weeks of listening to the people that i care about, with one exception, wonder aloud to me why in the world i was and am still working for psp. it's been two weeks. so, what has changed? has anything gotten better?

at the store, i guess things have gotten "better". maybe a little safer. my boss has been in the parking lot at night every night since jan. 6th to cast a set of eyes down the dark alley that the criminals have traveled down to see us all four times. the good police of the birmingham east precinct, at least a few of them, seemed to have taken the robberies almost as personal as we have and have been a stronger presence around the store. they've been more than happy to come and see us out at night. we've installed panic buttons in the store which, according to kiker, will, at the very least, alert the police to find the dead bodies in the store in a more timely fashion if the robbers come back and something goes wrong. ah, that's my kiker. always the optimist. we've been more aware of cars loitering in the parking lot. we've continued to mix up our routines. we've gotten pretty good at profiling every young black person (ugh.) that comes in the store with a hooded sweatshirt on. we've talked to crime prevention officers. we're going to get more cameras installed outside. we've come a little closer as a staff. yeah, i guess things have gotten a little "better"...

..but i don't know if anything has changed. not for me. not yet. i am scared when i get close to the store. i am scared of being watched. i am scared of "what could happen". i am scared of "it" happening again. my heart starts to race every time i think of being placed in a similar position to the one i was in on the evening of jan. 6th. after sundown, i find myself wanting to be in the office. i feel a little more safe there. not that being in the office would make any sort of difference if someone came in again. i find myself worrying that jason (my assistant manager that left the company on jan. 7th.) made the smartest decision of us all when he decided to get out while the getting was good. all of which brings us to the obvious question that keeps getting asked...

"and you are still at the store why?"

to me, the answer is a very simple one. why not? what? you don't think i've taken my family into account? you don't think i haven't thought (at some point in almost every minute of every day) about what they would have to go through if my being stubborn left them without a husband and a father? you don't think i know that i could find another "job" that would pay me just as much and allow me the same peace of mind i had at the store before oct. 27? i've thought and i know all of these things, but really, is that who you want me to be? someone that allows some random guys with guns to run me away from something that i think is important? something that could be and can be looked at as way more than "just a pet store"? this is my home, folks! this is my community! this is where i choose to be. you are right. it's not as white as it used to be. who gives a fuck? social and economic circumstances have led some people in the community to turn to desperate measures to make it through their day. therefore, as a result of some of those measures, my home is perceived to be "going downhill". maybe this perception is more reality than i would like to give it credit for being. or maybe the people that keep barking about how "bad" of a place huffman is becoming are the ones that have already left or are in the process of leaving. truly i ask you, how many of your neighbors are criminals? do you know for sure? do you even know your neighbors? maybe that's part of the problem. maybe that's part of the solution.

huffman is not "the ghetto", but what does that even fucking mean? huffman is not a war zone and it will not be until the things that have happened at my store become the rule and not the exception. i do not see that happening. not yet anyway. i don't have enough time to go to city council meetings and candlelight vigils, but i do have time to work. and i do have time to write. and i do have time to pray. and i pray that some of you that are bothered by what is going on around us might not just come to church in huffman and then go shop in trussville but that you might start putting your money and your time where your mouth is.

problems, in theory, do not fix themselves. i understand the want and need to feel safe. i want that too, more than anything. at least, i want it back. but peace of mind is something that i am willing to sacrifice for a period of time if my staying put can be used as even the smallest of testimonies to argue against huffman being "not what it used to be".

i no longer believe (not that i ever really did) that my finding myself running a business in the middle of huffman was an accident or "lucky break". i believe that, for whatever reason, there is a purpose for my being there and maybe the events of the last three months have something to do with it. of course, then again, maybe they don't. but this is what i believe. so i ask you, kindly, do not ask me to leave my store. i wouldn't have it. i will not have it. it's my store. it's my home.

is it yours?

reunited
(and it feels so good)


there were all sorts of profound lessons to be learned from having brian "home" for the holidays this past christmas. some of them were simple, like remembering that it was fun to talk to him and be in his company. some of them go way, way deeper.

it's not that i wondered if i would ever have a chance to see him again or regain a relationship that we lost long ago, but, in actuality, i wondered if i would ever have a chance to see him again or regain a relationship that we lost long ago. we didn't hit the way back machine and chart the last time i had a conversation with him where he was 100 percent sober, but it had to have been a very long time since. time spent in and out of rehab. time spent in and out of my mother's house. time spent in and out of my house. time spent in and out of my aunt's house. time spent fathering a child that he misses very much now. and finally, time spent moving away to south florida, moving away and having the light bulb come on. i could wax philosophical on all the reasons that i think he came out of the darkness of his drug and alcohol induced past when he did, but those reasons don't really make any difference going forward. what makes a difference is that the past seems to lie in the past now. and that's a huge step. one that, in some regards, i haven't been able to take myself.

brian and i share and shared a past that could be described as, how do you say, unpleasant. for the longest time, we allowed that past to dictate and define our actions even if we didn't want it to. we made decisions that took our lives in radically different directions. we made decisions that, for one reason or another, took us farther apart from one another than i ever thought possible. for a long, long time, the only constant that either of us had in our lives was each other. i realized how important that was way too late.

most things in life subscribe to the "out of sight, out of mind" notion. it's just easier that way. if something that you once held dear takes a backseat to the newest girl, the newest car, the newest gaming station, the newest next best anything, something that you thought could not be improved upon ends up on the trash heap of faded memories. i am thankful that my brother was different. i am thankful that no matter how mad i was at him, that no matter how much i didn't understand his situation, i didn't stop caring. sometimes, it hurt too much to think about him every day. but something inside me wouldn't let him stray too far from my normal routine. sometimes i would ignore his phone calls. sometimes i wouldn't return his messages (some of you just grinned and said to yourself, "at least i am not the only one."). at those times, i didn't know what to say. "i love you" seemed too cheesy. too easy. too deflective of everything that i wanted to spit out but knew that i didn't have time to mention.

when brian came home for the holidays, i didn't have time to say everything that i wanted. he had other things that he wanted and needed to do while he was here. i still had to work. but my hope prior to his coming was fulfilled, and that's all that matters. i wanted, more than anything, to want to see him again soon. and i do.

i wish he was in town now. his comment on my last post makes me want that even more. i like to fancy myself pretty tough and rough around the edges, but brian is the o'kelley that has actually been around the block. he's the one that i wish i could unleash on the guys that have put fear and uneasiness into my daily drive to work. as wonderful as sarah and my friends have been over the last week, brian has crossed my mind more than once. i've wanted him in the parking lot at night, not my boss or the cops, watching my back. i think i'd feel more safe with him here. as messed up as my head is right now, i think he would be able to help me figure some things out.

it's selfish of me to want him back now that he's made a better life for himself seventeen hours (by greyhound bus) away. but then again, i can be a pretty selfish guy. i still hope for the best for him. but more than ever, i hope that our visits come at a more frequent clip than once every two years.

it's not often that my wishes come true. it's not often that i wish. but i am glad to feel like i have my brother back. the one that i always knew was still in there. the one that i grew up with. fought with. played with. cried with. the one that threw a throwing star at me once because i always knew how to push his buttons.

love you too, bro.

HOLY FUCK!!!
(it's a gun!)
((part two))



(clears throat) would all persons at this meeting whose foreheads have been pressed into with the business end of an ak-47 assault rifle please come forward? ...

anyone...

anyone?

it's not that i have been dodging the "should i cuss or not" question since i brought it up a couple weeks ago. to be honest, i have been waiting for something to happen to me that would allow my ridiculous argument of "why i should" to be placed in it's proper context.

sunday night, something happened.

so, if you would kindly humor me, good and righteous people of robinson springs united methodist church (just the douche-y ones that wrote their pastor on christmas day and told them that he shouldn't link his blog to one that contains dirty words...not the actual good and honest and human ones), please enlighten me to the "holier" words that you would have spoken aloud or in your heart if a crazy-ass pet store robber (one that was in your store only two weeks ago) places a military-issue assault rifle to your head and you were unsure of his intent to use it. in the same moment, you were unsure if you had seen your wife, your two daughters, your friends, your family that may or may not like you, your employees or any other person that shares this earth with you for the last time. what words would you have chosen to emote in this "somewhat unpleasant" situation? "fiddlesticks!"? "oh, poop!"? "dadblammit!"? "ah, pickles!"? something else? you tell me. i would love to be ingrained with something other than the words that i chose after the situation resolved itself. those words were "fuck me!", and "shit." among others. i called the criminals "cocksuckers." i called their mothers worse. i called their friends and anyone that enjoyed their company much, much worse (they, you see are part of the problem. the mother may have disowned the sons long ago, hence i let her off the hook a little bit.) in the moments that i realized that my life was spared for the second time in just over three months, in the moments that i was grateful that my assistant manager's life was spared for the second time in two weeks (!!!), i could not resist the temptation to projectile vomit towards the heavens words that made me feel better about my current situation. and so i did. loudly and with defiance.

not defiant towards god, mind you. i truly believe that god couldn't give a shit (gasp!!!) about the words that come out of my mouth minus if those words might cause one of my brothers or sisters "to stumble". do i admit that my potty-mouth may have affected someone, even some young one, in a negative way more than once? absolutely, i do. and that's something i am working on. but i'll get back to this in a minute. not defiant towards god, mind you, but defiant with the small hope that the two guys running away from my store could hear my cries of rage and with the small hope that they understood that they, themselves, would need god's assistance to rip me off their ass if we ever happened upon each other at a time they were not carrying a gun.

i grew up in homes where the "cuss" words i use today were used as perfectly acceptable nouns, adjectives and adverbs. not that i am trying to justify anything. i am just being forthright. i inherited my blue tongue quite honestly. you, whoever you are, may not have grown up in such a home. your home might have replaced my words with other words that you said when you were so pissed off that you wanted to throw your cat at a wall. but, instead of hurting one of god's creatures, you chose to yell at the top of your lungs, "PINEAPPLE CHERRYCAKES!!!" does that really make your choice of words any less offensive? really? if you use any combination of letters and guttural sounds to express your displeasure, even if they don't rhyme with "shit" or "piss", haven't you still lost control in some way? hmm....

i lose control in small ways all the time, in bigger ways sometimes and in big, nasty ways hardly ever. but in all three instances, i usually use some combination of these. if you don't? awesome. if you do? awesome. if it bothers you to see them here? turn me off. i am ok with that. if i offend off everyone that ever happens across this page, that is fine. i hope you enjoy your time here, but if not, it's not for you. turn me off.

i am a bruised, beaten-down, imperfect and, at times, very lonely man. this is my journey. this is part of my life, living for my god and my family, living for you to see. sometimes, i get mad. sometimes, i cuss. sometimes, i have good reason. sometimes, i do not. sometimes, i care. sometimes, i care not.

sanctification is tough for me. i bet it is for you too. i wish you well on your journey. and i wish you less well today, you ignorant pieces of shit that scared the piss out of me and my employees again sunday night, than i will tomorrow. that's how it works. each day you heal. each day you move forward. some days, bricks hit your ass in the face and knock you backward.

(cue allen iverson impression) words??? words??? we gonna talk about words??? you gonna question my heart in the game, man???? or you wanna talk about words???

question my words, you may. question my heart, you may not.

i will prove you wrong.

"let's die while we're young!!!"
(but now i'm too old for that)


according to pitchfork, the best music of any given year usually happens off the beaten path, somewhere on a record label far, far away, miles away from actual radio airplay. according to rollingstone, the best music may, in fact, happen in the mainstream or close to it by bands that you've heard of and by bands that make multiple albums because consumers tend to buy records by these bands and allow them to develop their craft and career instead of being a shooting star that fades after one blast of an indie album. both could be right. both could be wrong. through my 31-plus years, i have found no more divisive a subject than what "good music" is or isn't. it's all really in the ear of the beholder. it's all about what touches you at a certain point in your life and what doesn't. it's not usually about how well a band plays their instruments or even how good the band is at writing songs. what it's about is whether you like the music or not. that's it. that's all that matters. kurt cobain was a pretty decent songwriter, a pretty crappy guitar player but surrounded himself with a decent bass player and the most amazing drummer of my era to create one of my favorite albums ever in nevermind. billie joe armstrong plays nothing but powerchords, but dookie and american idiot would make my top 50 albums of all time easily. nickelback plays the same song over and over again, gives it a new title and sell millions of records. i hate them, but a lot of people don't. i can't take that away from them. i think u2 kind of sucks. i have no interest in radiohead for the same reason i have no interest in the patriots. that being because i keep hearing how "incredible" they are but what i've heard and seen tells me otherwise.

all that said, who's to say what's good and what's not. who's to waste time and energy creating a completely subjective list based on their own biased and short-sighted listening habits?

well, me of course.

as i mentioned last post, i bought 19 records last year. a top ten would be kind of silly and a top five even seems like i am watering down the field. so, i give you my top three spins for 2007 (kind of) and my commentary as to why these three were "better" than the rest.

3. jimmy eat world - chase this light - you've probably read it ten different places by now, but this album is just a good, happy one. there are a couple tracks that are worth turning up and rocking out to, but, for the most part, this is very much a pop record. it's full of sing-along choruses, "oohs" and "ahhs", handclaps and enough bounce that hannah will listen to three or four songs with me with no complaints whatsoever. there is one completely horrible, throwaway track, but, thankfully, my skip button works and i have erased it from the album in my head. i was wary that this album would disappoint me, but it did not and will not for several months to come i am sure.

2. the format - dog problems - the reason for my qualifying "kind of" is this record, because i was late to the party on it. it hit stores late in 2006 and i spent some of my christmas 2006 money on it the first week of january, 2007. it's, by far, the poppiest album i've bought in ten years and it remains in my car and rotation to this day. like jimmy eat world, there is one completely horrible, throwaway track, but it does not take away from the sugary-sweet goodness that is this album on the whole. i only really notice distortion in one song, which is very, very weird for something that i am so into, but the vocals and harmonies are beautiful and will get stuck in your head for months. hannah also approves of this album and would probably rate track six as her favorite of the year. "play it again, daddy!!!" you don't even have to twist my arm.

1. a wilhelm scream - career suicide - a lot of similarities between this album and the propagandhi album that topped my list two years ago. i usually don't get too hung up on how technically proficient a band is, as i mentioned in my intro. but, with a wilhelm scream compared to every other punk band, minus propagandhi, that i listen to, the difference is so noticeable that i can't help but be in awe. over the top of the power chords you can hear every note of the lead guitar as it and the bass usually drive the song and my foot to start tapping the floorboard of my car. it doesn't sound sloppy. it's not overdone (take note, coheed). it's just perfect, aggressive music with just enough catchiness to keep you immediately coming back for more so that the rest of the song can suck you in. there are political themes and plenty of angst for anyone that is finding it hard to find something to be pissed about, but for an aging punk rocker with very few punk purchases in 2007, it warms my heart that this band made me the happiest this year. obviously, it's not for everybody. but if you fancy rock music, then i would highly recommend adding this to your collection.

honorable mention:

amy winehouse - back in black - my token non-sexual female singer-songwriter crush of the year.

songs of the year:

when you were young - the killers
dog problems - the format
rehab - amy winehouse
1,2,3,4 - feist
here it goes - jimmy eat world
check request denied & die while we're young - a wilhelm scream

new year, new layout
(part two)


it just made sense. when i was looking around at my options on the blogger template page, only one jumped out at me. if i was going to change my current color scheme and layout (which i've grown quite fond of), it would have to be something that, in my mind, would help define the year to come. that being said and considering this will be the year that alabama makes "the jump" back into national prominence, the only layout and color scheme that made sense was one that made you read through crimson and white colored glasses every time you visited this page. and now, we have it. the new layout accompanied with a new name. as my eyes continue to age with the rest of my body, the world is no longer blurry through just my left eye but both. i thought about going with something a little more "artsy-fartsy" and changing the name of the blog to "the world's a little blurry through my mind's eye." i, actually, like that one, and you might see it grace the top of this page somewhere in the future. for this year, though, it will be "hannah and caroline and me". for this year, i will let the title remind me every time i visit my own page of the reason that i started this venture in the first place. that reason being that one day down the road i would like my girl(s) to be able to look back at their formative years and have a small glimpse into what made their daddy tick when they were too young to remember for themselves. a mission statement is easy to stray from if you do not keep it front and center. just ask huffman united methodist church. for at least the next 366 days, the mission statement of this page will never be farther than a click away. it will help me stay centered and on point, hopefully, when i sit down to write. it will help me to maintain my focus...

speaking of focus, next lie the resolutions, my resolutions, for this new year.

1) start getting right with god...maybe this should've been my number one last year. maybe it should be that way every year. but let's be honest, all of us that subscribe to being god-fearers are not always fearing god. for me, i fear god the most when i feel out of control and it's in those times that i tend to turn to him. i am the first to admit that this is the wrong approach, but that just proves my point. i only admit that it's the wrong approach when i feel like i am in control. being in control is something that i crave. something that i need. something that i work for and, at times, am good at. god has seen it fit to give me the confidence that i am seeing him more clearly than i ever have before. seeing his will. seeing how my actions can fit into and affect his plan. i should at least respect that confidence with an eye towards turning my recent spiritual comfort into tangible results. most likely, this will result in one of two things. either my family will feel like huffman is turning the corner to be truly relevant again, or i will start lobbying kiker, andy and others close to me to start something that is. start getting right with god...that's got a nice ring to it.

2) don't give up on huffman (the community, not necessarily my church)...my store has suffered through three robberies (2) or attempted robberies (1) in less than two months. in the last week, i have fought the temptation to profile every single customer that comes into the store as the next guy that is going to put a gun in my or one of my employees' face. i've been asked if i'd like to purchase a gun "for my safety". i've wondered if it is time to find a job in a place that i am not nervous to be after it gets dark. but i can't give up, right? i can't just chalk it up to "this area is going downhill." isn't that too easy? doesn't that do a disservice to those that are like me? that want the best for their community and fellow man? of course it does. so, i am resolved to not give up this year. or any year.

3) don't get fat...that this has fallen two spots from last year doesn't mean it's any less important to me. it just means numbers "1" and "2" are more important.

4) drive fast and safe to the emergency room when it's time...sarah has a hunch and my guess is that she may be right. this is the year hannah breaks her first bone. hopefully not. but it just makes too much sense. just this morning she tried to do a "backflip" off the couch without warning us. as a father to zero boys, this kind of warms my heart that hannah doesn't seem to have a whole lot of fear when it comes to throwing her body around. in another way, it scares me to death. i reassert that i am in no way rooting for her to hurt herself. i am just resolving to get her to the hospital as fast as i can when she does.

5) eat more ribs. i am not sure what happened this year, but i don't think that i made it to dreamland more than six times. that. is. unforgivable. it's one thing if you are allergic to ribs or meat. it's an altogether different thing if you are not. i am not. i will not make any promises about music this year, but andy and kiker, i ask for your assistance in making sure this resolution holds true.

6) don't throw up...this is never going to happen, but there is no feeling that i feel that comes closer to imminent death than the feeling i get when i throw up. the prolonged heave that seems to last an hour and prevents one from breathing until the very last moment before one might pass out is one of god's cruelest jokes. sure, sure. i get that you are usually purging something evil from your insides, but if i could go twelve full months without throwing up, those would be a good twelve months.

7) go to the iron bowl...i know this is pretty specific, but i might as well shoot for the stars rather than wasting my wanderlust on vague wishes like "go to a tuscaloosa game".

8) don't start smoking...i have to throw a "gimme" in for good measure to counterbalance the tougher ones and raise my spirits during times of trial.

9) make christmas less "busy"...hannah being born on christmas makes this hard. it really does. but i'd like to have one christmas that doesn't involve five steps and four stops. not that everyone has to come to us, but it would be fun to tone it down from "thank god christmas is over. i am glad i get to go to work tomorrow." to "hmm. that could have been a lot more stressful. good show."

10) see brian again...maybe this time i can meet him in sunny florida.

11) close this chapter as it relates to my father...i saw him one time all year. it's the first time in many, many years that we haven't spoken on my birthday or christmas. maybe all that means the chapter is closed for us. for some reason, though, i don't feel a sense of closure yet. maybe i never will. but i'd like to put this behind me if i can and think about something else for a while. something more pleasant.

happy 2008. may your year be anything other than stagnant. talk more. stop fucking lying. to yourself and to others. be a man. or a woman. just be real. whatever that means for you.