MY IMMOBILITY

OR

NONADVENTURES IN AGING

This is the realization I realized this morning. Between the ages of 16 and 27 I had visited the following places: pretty much every major area in texas, oklahoma city, tulsa, chicago, atlanta, dowagiac michigan, orlando, santa fe, alberquerque, most of colorado, sedona arizona, the grand canyon, south dakota, iowa, washington d.c. (about half a dozen times,) helsinki finland, the entire country of estonia twice (including the islands of saarema and hiiuma,) riga latvia, and mexico. and two days in jfk airport, and a drive across the city.

Draw a line from waco to dallas going up i-35. Then draw a line from Dallas to Marshall going east on i-20. Now, draw a line from Marshall back to waco going southwest on highway 31. Those lines all form a triangle. Within the past two years, this body has not gone outside of that triangle.

Two years ago I would have been terrified if you had told me this would happen. I would fear not being legitimate. I would fear being labled as one of those people who has never been outside of Texas. I would have feared being labeled poor (which I am.)

But now I am calmly uninterested in what my lack of mobility says about me to the rest of the people in my generation.

STATEMENT CONCERNING PAST PERCEIVED INDISCRETIONS

A friend who I think very highly of, who was a part of my ETBU world and has been a part of my Waco world since I had a Waco world, humorously suggested that perhaps the string of expletives found in my Dec. 5 entry was a little over the top. And for that, I say thank you. In the future I'll work on reducing the number of profanities I use. I'm not going to eliminate them altogether, because that would not be true to who I am. But I do think I can be creative without constantly using the word "fuck" to induce humor. Call this my "attempt" at creative authenticity.

Now, you see Mr. T., that's how it's done. It just took a very subtle, and humorous, suggestion from this friend for me to be prodded onto thinking more about what I do. No self-righteous disappointment. No threats of removing his "endorsement." Just someone who cares enough about me to share this common life of following Christ. So, if you have constructive criticism for me, I don't give a shit. Come be a part of my life and earn the right to talk to me the way you talked to me in that email, then I'll listen.

RADIO

Last night Blake, Daniel, Jason, and I went to see Radio. It was such a great movie. About midway through I was thinking "you know, I hate this. It's so cliche' and emotionally manipulative." But close to the end I just (metaphorically) threw my hands up in the air and said (also metaphorically) "fuck it, I'm crying." Which brings me to this thought.....

CLICHE', MANIPULATION, AND THINGS BEING DILUTED FOR THE MASS MARKET

I think there's too many people running away from music, movies, careers, thoughts, reality, etc., that are familiar and accesible to the masses. Too many terminally chic people out there. Too many pretensious people who (silently) look down on others because, although they may enjoy music and movies that only make it to the art houses and coffee house of the moment, don't really care to devote their energies to promote those things, just so they can tear it down once the masses start enjoying it, or insult the masses for not catching on sooner. I have this tendency just as much as the next guy, but I'm trying to keep it in check.

Sometimes things are cliche' because they are true.

MY MUSIC OF THE MOMENT

Yesterday I bought the Joe Nichols cd "Man with a Memory." This guy is awesome. He sounds like a cross between George Jones, Alan Jackson, and George Strait. The CD brings me back to the stuff I remember hearing in my dad's pickup truck on the way home from football games late on Friday nights in the fall.

NEW STUFF

Check out my new thingy on the right about books. I'm not as smart as Ben, so I haven't figured out how to get the pictures of the books up just yet.

Moments of Grace

Not too long ago, after November, I mentioned how I was ready to get back to the holiness of the mundane, all the while being open to noticing moments of grace. Well, here's a couple of those. These are times that brought me such joy that all I could do was think about how amazing it is when God breaks into your world.

TOMMY THE TEACHER

On Thursday I went to Dr. Fulgham in Brownsboro to have the crown put back on my tooth. I went to high school with Ben, the dentist's middle son. We were good acquaintances which, to the rest of the world outside of small town Brownsboro, means best friends. It was great catching up with him through his mom. You know, it's so easy to think that I exagerrate and over-romantacize the friendliness and "real-ness" of people from home... but I don't think I do. I felt so warm and welcome in that place, even though I hadn't seen Ben's parents in over ten years. His mom treated me as if it were just a few days ago that we were talking. It was wonderful.

As I was leaving, I decided to take the back way to highway 31, you know, on Bear Circle, that goes behind the high school, and I saw my dad's truck outside of the gym (that would be the high school gym, not the older gym referred to as the "new" gym.) I also saw about a dozen school busses from other towns and I realized what was going on-- The Great East Texas Shootout, the Brownsboro tournament. This thing is the biggest damn high school basketball tournament in the state, possibly in the nation. Seriously. There are 29 boys teams and 30 girls teams that participate. It's huge.

So I decide to go in and see my dad. I walk in the gym, that was almost my home growing up in the fall and early winter growing up, as I went to every basketball game. (Have I ever mentioned I was voted Most School Spirit all four years of high school? Well, I was. My senior year I was also voted Friendliest, but I had to choose one over the other.-- I chose Most School Spirit in order to have the sweep.) I walk into the capacity crowded gymnasium and spend a good 5 minutes scanning the place looking for my dad. Eventually I see him, on the other side of the court, bottom row, and he has around 8-10 special education (the lowest level of special ed-- i'm not sure the pc word these days) high school kids around him, and he is talking to them, pointing out things. It's as if he's Socrates and all these students are staring at him, hanging on to his every word. He's holding court. Turns out he was subsituting for a special education class that day and decided to take them to a basketball game to teach them how to count by two. I eventually went over and hung out with him for a few minutes before going back to Waco, but not before spending five minutes just watching him and the joy that was spewing out of him. My dad spent over 30 years building tires, and now he was doing something he loved. I was very happy.

JUDE THE POPCORN EATER

Last night I was watching the Lake kids while Kyle and Jen went Christmas partying. This is my favorite thing in the world to do right now.

I put on the old claymation version of Rudolph the Red Nosed reindeer and all the kids were entranced. As they were watching, I popped popcorn and went and sad down on the floor. Jude quietely walked over to me, never taking his eyes off of the movie, and sat in my lap. I started feeding him popcorn, and he loved it.... he was just like a little person, eating popcorn in the movie. Anyway, he started doing this thing that just caused me to laugh hysterically, but quitely so as to not disturb him and cause him to stop. Still in a trance watching the movie, he began lifting his hand over his head, palm up, everytime he was ready for a new piece of popcorn. It was so instinctual, instinctly.... uh..... deep down within him that he didn't even notice what he was doing. Again, I was very happy. And you can be a lot worse than happy.

I know, seems stupid.... but so do many other things God chooses to do to make you appreciate the world and people and things around you.

It's been quite a few days, and I have a lot to say, so let's get this party under way.


The Thing I mentioned on Thursday

Unless you are Eminem, you've probably noticed I use the occasional expletive in my blog. Especially if you read my post from December 5. (Eminem, if for some reason you are reading this, the words in question are damn, bitch, bastard, fuck, fuckwad, etc.... Many people believe these are expletives. By the way, thanks for reading, I love your work.)

Well, somehow people from ETBU accidently got a hold of my blog. I don't know how that happened. All I did was post it on an alumni message board. I was trying to keep it secret, then people started reading that message board. Early last week I get an email from a guy I respect a lot. This person was instrumental in helping me to grow intellectually and in seeing the world in ways I'd never seen them before. He has his flaws, but I still think a lot of him. He sends me this note in a tone that suggests severe shock and disbelief, questioning my "attempts at authenticity" as he put it. What a horrible thing to say... "If this is your attempt at authenticity...."

A couple of weeks ago I was eating breakfast with a friend of mine (another former ETBU'er,) and he told me about this dream he had. He was at this fork in the road and all the people who loved him and were a part of his life encouraged him to pick a path and go down it. So he picked a path, things started going good, and he heard all those people who encouraged him to branch out from behind him.... He looked back only to find they all had guns and started shooting him.

And that's what I felt like when I got that email.

Something intersting then happened. I became more possesed with confidence in sharing where I am to this person in a way I had never before experienced. I sent a reply email that, I feel, affirmed him and let him know how special he is to me, but at the same time lit into him for what I feel was the straining at gnats.

I HATE confrontation and any email or phone call or confrontation I participate in that is confrontational in nature, usually finds me shaking in my boots going into it and feeling absolutely horrible going out of it. This time was different. I felt extremely good about myself after doing it. I'm not glad it happened, but I'm glad I responded the way I did.

Rediscovery

Last night I rediscovered Nichole Nordeman. This girl is one of the three or four Christian artists I can listen to....

How many deaths did I die before I was awakened to new life again?
How many half-truths did I bear witness to, til the proof was disproved in the end?
How long? How far?
What was meant to illuminate, shadowed me still
And all you ever wanted...

Only me on my knees
Singing holy, holy
And somehow all that matters now is
You are holy, holy


Other Stuff

Some intersting shit has been happening the past couple of days. I haven't quite figured out how to blog about it and still be respectful to the parties involved, so I'll wait until this afternoon. I'm about to head off to Brownsboro to the dentist to get my crown put back on. I'll have plenty of time to think about it then and hopefully time to talk about it this evening.

Adolescent Chickens

Just a quick note before I'm off to work. I just caught about 2 minutes of Punk'd. Ashton Kutcher is sporting one of those side burns that goes really high on the cheek.

Within the next month, I bet I see at least a dozen of those on guys between the ages of 16-26.

Anxiety

People do weird shit when they get nervous. As for me, I tend to get this glazed over look in my eyes. I also do this thing where I take a side of my bottom lip and connect it with the top front tooth from the opposite side (hard to explain, you'd have to see.) Some people bite their fingernails. Some people become overly emotional trying to make things more or les ok.

During worship yesterday I had this thought; I wonder how Joseph acted at the birth of Jesus. If I'm to believe the nativity scenes that come out this time of the year, he must have been pretty calm during the whole ordeal. But if I'm to believe that the Christmas story was more grounded in reality than that, then it must have been a different scene. Because I've seen television show that depict how fathers get when children are born. I also remember the "holy shit" look on Kyle's face the first few months after the twins were born-- and it's not the nativity scene.

All I could think of yesterday as we were singing "here i am to worship, here i am to bow down, here i am to say that you're my god," was Joseph leaving the stable (or cave, or whatever) to get a breath of fresh air and to gather his thoughts. We know, if we are to take the Christmas narratives seriously and by faith, that an angel came months before to let Joseph know everything was ok, that God had done this to Mary. But how many times have we looked back on beliefs that we've had, even spiritual experiences, and doubted whether or not that was God or our own emotions trying to make sense out of the situation. It must have crossed Joseph's mind that he imagined the angel, and that it was something (namely, someone) else that had put Mary in this situation. And then when (and if) he decided that the angelic visitation was real, that still probably didn't ease his nerves any. He still had to have had the thought that if this is true, that God had a hand in the pregnancy of Mary, then I've got something extremely different on my hands than all the other Jewish fathers.... and now I'm responsible.

I can't imgagine that Mary and Joseph understood fully who their son was that first night they put him to bed, even though the circumstances surrounding the whole even were somewhat suspicious. But I am pretty sure that, over time, they began to make a little sense of things. When Mary encountered her risen son, all I can imagine is that his life, and everything surrounding it, flashed across her eyes. Suddenly, the angel made sense. The unexpected pregnancy made sense. All the weird and strange stuff made sense.

And for me, it suddenly made sense that we'd be singing "Here I am to worship, here I am to bow down, here I am to say that you're my God. You're altogether lovely, altogether worty, altogether wonderful to me," at Christmas. Because I'm sure that slowly, over time, these words, in some form or the other, were considered by Mary and Joseph.

A HEARTY WELCOME TO MY NEW VIEWERS-- ETBU ALUMNI, DIRECTLY FROM BEHIND THE PINE CURTAIN

Ben and I were talking last night about our blogs, and we came to the conclusion that the reason we do it is for other people to know what's going on with our lives and what we are thinking. If we wanted to keep it private, we'd just write it down in a journal.

With that in mind I've invited my friends from the East Texas Baptist University alumni forum into my blogging world. So if you're here as a result of that, welcome... please enjoy.

But I need to let you know a few things, so you want fall back in your chairs:

1. While at ETBU I would have never considered using the words damn, bitch, bastard, fuck, fuckwad, fuckhead, dumb fuck, or women in the minisry, but now I almost consider it a sin to make it through the day with out using all of those words in conversation. So if those words offend you-- fuck you. But I still want you to read on.

2. Most of the people right now who read this are either Baylor grads, or strongly connected to Baylor in some way. If you start up a conversation in any of the comment sections, go easy on them. They think Baylor is the most closed minded, spiritually infused, fundmantelist place that ever existed. Let's let them keep there illusions. And here's a brief lexicon, just in case you get in a conversation and get confused (I'll add more later.)
"Common Grounds"= Hungri Maverick, except with rich customers, rich workers, and where everyone has
their front teeth.
"Dia del Oso" = Tiger Mania, exept that everyone goes.
"Chapel"= Something they vaguely remember going to their freshman year, not a lifestyle.
"Sunday Lunch"= A time to go plop down $15 with a few close friends, not a time to go eat leftovers in
the cafeteria with the weekend remnant.
"Weekend camping trip"= Something that is planned days in advance, not a spur of the moment trip to Caddo
or Lake O' the Pines.

3. If you find it confusing to figure out where I stand on things, don't worry, it confuses me to.
4. I am a Christian (See September 7 post,) but that may mean something totally different than what you are thinking (or, it might be just what you were thinking.)

I was driving home from the store today, listening to Lonestar's cover of "Walking in Memphis," with my windows rolled down, singing as loud as I possibly could, nice cool breeze, doing the wave with my hand out the window (don't laugh, you know you do it to,) and I thought to myself how happy I am that, even though November was wonderful, I'm glad it's over and I'm back to some sense of normalcy. But then I thought it's just when I say that that something abnormal will happen.

I'm up at the church around 4:30, finished cleaning the kitchen and getting ready for Philapooza, a concert our church community is putting on to help raise money to support Phil Shepard, one of the coolest, most interesting people I know- who is working as a community pastor for a new church in Austin. I'm taking a break, everyone else is gone, to play video games in Ben's office. As I'm walking there I see a plate of cookies on the desk and thought "Hmm, that cookie would be good to eat while I'm kicking ass at Mario Kart." So I sit down to play, bite into the cookie, and break a crown off of one of my molars. It scared the shit out of me, since I haven't had tooth problems in years. Luckily there is a filling under there and it should be ok until I can go back to Brownsboro to my dentist next Thursday. I was embarassed calling for an appointment, since I haven't been in over ten years. Oh well, what are you going to do?

i've long suspected that i'm the biggest dork in the world, now i think the case is closed. it's 5:45 a.m. on thursday morning and i just spent the past hour watching cmt crossroads with dolly parton and melissa etheridge. what a cool show, taking people from different genres and having them sing each other's songs. the last one i saw a few months ago, travis tritt and ray charles was amazing, but i think this one took the cake. the next on (on dec. 12-- i might ask off of work) will be martina mcbride (the best voice in music) and pat benatar.

well, i guess i'm off to bed again.

i'm sleepy. about to go to bed. it's been a good day. good day at work. jason's back from honeymoon, had a great lunch catching up with him and talking about the wedding weekend and how great it was. had an insanely wonderful time this evening playing with the lake kids-- it should be illegal to have as much fun as one year old boys do while being chased. west wing was very good tonight. i have tomorrow off. just a good day.

MY POLITICAL THOUGHTS

1. I saw Howard Dean last night on Hardball with Chris Matthews. I disagree with most of this guys policies, and would never vote for him because of that. But, out of all the Democratic hopefuls, he's the one I could stand behind and support if elected. He's the only one who seems to hold his political beliefs personally, not as an impetus to get elected. I believe in him as a person, even though I don't agree with him. Unlike the others, he spoke out against the war with Iraq from the beginning, and he is still speaking out against it. All the other Democrats (at least the one's who currently hold elected office,) supported the war when it started, but are now saying they didn't. Dean's the only one who is consistent.

2. With that said, I am loving W. more and more each day. I thought his secret trip to Baghdad was gold. Of course there will be those who say it was a political move. To those people, I have two words... Fuck You. Most people who had a problem with it are people who just don't like the guy, and nothing he would do, no matter how valid and genuine, would ever be accepted as a good move. I feel sorry for people like that, but what are you doing to do? I'm reading this book right now called AntiAmericanism that is, interestingly enough, written by a French scholar. He makes a good point when making the comment that some people's minds will never be changed. Quoting Jonathon Swift he states "You can never reason someone out of something they were never reasoned into." In other words, most people's opinion of the president is solely personal, and has nothing to do with policies. They just really don't like the guy.

3. The Michael Moore train still keeps moving along, and it baffles me. I found out a couple of my friends from work, ones I previously thought were intelligent, are fans of his. What the fuck is the problem with you people? I read the first chapter of his new book, and couldn't read any further. It was proof of what I said earlier that certain people's opinion of the president is solely based on the fact that they thought he stole the election. Moore couldn't let a paragraph go by without insinuating that Bush wasn't rightly elected. The final vote in Florida said that Bush won that state. Every major news agency and political watchdog group in the entire fucking nation went to Florida in the months after the election to count every ballot, and every single one of them came to the same damn conclusion: George W. Bush had more votes than did Gore. Sure Gore won the popular vote, but we have this pesky little document called the Constitution that says the popular vote doesn't elect a president, the electoral vote does. So if you have a beef, Mr. Moore, it's with the Constitution, not the president. It's entirely possible that he had some valid points based on substantive facts in the book, but unless you come forward with intellect, rather than sensationalism, right off the bat, you might as well stop writing and start jacking off, because I'm not going to listen to you.

ABOUT THE WAR, A FEW MORE PESKY LITTLE FACTS

4. In 1991 Saddam Hussein invaded and occupied Kuwait, a soveriegn nation that was helpless to defend itself. The U.N. led by the U.S. said "Oh no you don't. Get out of Kuwait." When he refused to do that, we used force to remove him. To prevent us from going all the way to Baghdad and beating the living shit out of him, Hussein agreed to allow U.N. inspectors into Iraq for an unspecified time. In '94 Hussein kicked the U.N. inspectors out. From that moment on, we had the right, based on the cease fire agreement of '91, to kick ass in Iraq whenever the hell we felt like it.

In the meantime, in 1992, Hussein sent bombs containing mustard gas, into Kurdish villages in the south of Iraq that aided the allies during the Gulf War, killing thousands of people in horrendously painful deaths.

In 1993 the CIA uncovered a plot of Hussein's to assasinate former president Bush during a visit to Kuwait.

Since attacking Iraq earlier this year, we have uncovered at least two mass graves containing the bodies of thousands of political prisoners, denied their freedom for speaking out against Hussein.

Is it really necessary that we find WMD's in order to justify removing this guy?

About unilateralism: France and Germany, the two major opponents against the war, had said numerous times that they would not support military action against Iraq EVEN IF we found weapons of mass destruction. So their not participating is irrelevant.

About solving problems diplomatically: Over the past 10 year, every major diplomatic measure had been taken to try to get the UN inspectors back into Iraq. Dozens of UN resolutions. Food for oil programs. Everything. Some people only respond to force.

About not finding WMD's yet: Everyone, from the UN, to the CIA, to the intelligence agencies of at least a half dozen other countries, agreed that Hussein had weapons of mass destruction. So if the president had faulty information, dont' just blame the US. Blame the intelligence communites of other countries as well as of the U.N.

About why I'm a W. supporter, but am liberal in so many areas

5. I want my teachers and professors and people who guide me along intellectually to see things in shades of grey. I want my friends to be open minded about a wide range of topics. I want those who I look up to spiritually to show me the wide world of belief and faith and ideas. I want the person who is in charge of leading my nation to be strong, resolute, and sure of himself (or as those who don't like him would say, cocky.)

here's to wishing you were here.
here's to whatever is important to you right now.
here is to those you love.
here is to those who love you.
here is to your mom, and all the jokes she spawns.
here is to love, reckless, messy, hoping, undeniable love.
here is to wishing you were here.

muh, fuh.

November is Over
Now that I'm done preaching, I feel like everything tomorrow goes back to normal. Nothing big going on. Just work and the everyday, ordinary, living of life.

It's been an eventful month. Tons of stuff thrown my way this past month. The wedding, the funeral, the sermon, the sickness, Thanksgiving, friendship issues. Even though I've grown a lot, learned a lot, and experienced a lot, I'm quite ready for things to get back to normal.... all the while being open to the small moments of grace that God throws my way.

The Reception
I never got a chance to mention the wedding reception. I was in charge of most of the food. It was at UBC. It was wonderful. Literally the most joy-filled time I've had in many, many years. Everyone danced... no one sat on the sidelines, which is normally my tendency during times like that. I made this corny comment to Blake, but it was so fucking true... I'd never in my life been in a room that contained more love than at that moment. It was so true. Euphoric. Life-giving. I truly think times like those are glimpses of heaven. All the story without the conflict. It is just another thing I will take with me during the dull times to remember the possibilities of love.

How Europe gets Bush Wrong

I read this very cool article in time magazine this week. http://www.time.com/time/covers/1101031201/nagenda.html

Today

I worked today. I've felt very lazy the past couple of days. There really hasn't been anything for me to do except for help customers and pretend to shelve books while I read them. Today I read bits and pieces of Grenze's "Beyond Foundationalism," Michael Moore's "Who Stole My Country" (completely and utterly ignorant writing,) Norris' "Dakota: A Spiritual Geography," and Nancy's "Letters from a Nut." All in all it was a great day. Even better, I'm off until 10:00 on Friday.

Plans

My plans for the next few days are as follows. This evening-- lounge around, watch "About a Boy" for the bazillionth time, start working on my sermon. Tomorrow-- work on sermon most of the day. Maybe go see "Love, Actually" or something else. I really need to watch the second Lord of the Rings since I missed it. I really loved the first one, but was never motivated to see the second. Thursday-- Go home to the Nash Thanksgiving, complete with rednecks and everything-- I'm so excited about that. Then a second Thanksgiving dinner with Brent and his family. I spent several years having Thanksgiving with his folks, but they moved away. Luckily his sister just moved to Lake Palestine, just minutes from Uncle Johnny's farm where we'll be having the holiday. Then it's back here for dinner prepared by Tracey and her family.

The Lakes
I'd ordinarily have some time set aside to go play with the best kids in the world, being off for so many days. Unfortunately, the entire Lake clan is sick and contagious. In an effort to stop the cycle of germs being floated around, I've been ordered by Jen to stay away-- to save myself. So I will. I hate it that they're ill.

Back to the Wedding

Friday, after driving back from Dallas with Jason, Jason, Blake, and Mark, most of the day was spent at UBC getting ready for the reception. Then the rehearsal and then the rehearsal dinner.

Rehearsal Dinner

This is where the tears flowed. First of all, Jason gave all the groomsmen and ushers a gift. In that gift was a card with him sharing what we mean to him. He passed them out, we all looked down to read, and looked up to find each other trying our best not to cry. It was hilarious.

Blake, Jason's brother and one of my favorite people in the world, had set up a thing where some of the groomsmen and bridesmaids stood up and told stories about Jason and Christy. Robert got up there and had everyone in stitches. I got up there and started crying, talking about the first time I met Jason and how when you share your stories with him you become the center of his universe. And that's true. When Jason listens there's no bullshit going on. You have his complete attention. He makes you feel very warm inside. You know that you are not part of his spiritual agenda, as is the case with many evangelical Christians these days. Passions aren't important to him, people are. And so that's what I said. And that's why I cried

Friends

Here is proof of the power of television, and how true it is that when you have a show that you consistently watch, you really feel like you personall know the characters. I just watched last weeks Friends and when Monica announced to the gang that there is a baby on the way, I totally jumped out of the couch, thrust my fist in the air, and a little tear fell down my cheek. I know, I'm a loser.

EDITED FOR CONTENT

Sleep

Edited for content.

Right now I feel so alive and refreshed. I just woke up from a 9 hour sleep. Since last Sunday night, I haven't had more than 4 1/2 hours on any given night. I'm about to do some major catching up.

Here we Go

As stated previously, I'll be spending the next few days blogging about the last few days. But a quick summary, and the cheese factor will be very high here-- so if you're still enslaved by cynicism you may not want to read on.


Since I got off of work on Thursday afternoon, until just a few minutes ago at love feast, I've experienced more joy, had more genuinely incredible tender moments with friends- old and new-, and had more hugs than in any three day period of my life. Real hugs. Not half ass sidal hugs. I'm talking full on, frontal, squeeze the life out of you- and breathe it into you - type hugs. And man, was the life breathed back into me this weekend.



Bachelor Party

After I got off of work on Thursday I met up with my friend Jason Fortenberry, then went to get my tux. After that we drove up to Dallas together to the bachelor party. Jason was bitching the whole time that he had to drive, but he really loves to do that for fun. We met everyone at the Magic Time Machine in Addison. I was expecting it to be a very tame, Christiany, type party but it wasn't. Nothing really wild happened, but it was by no means tame. Lot of beer floating around. We had an amazingly fun time.

My first of the multitude of hugs came when my friend Robert came in. Robert is an ETBU buddy who is living in Tampa, Florida now. He sacrificed a whole lot to be there this weekend. He's really kind of like a younger brother to me. I so love being around him. He's one of the funniest people I've ever known.

After the meal we went upstairs to the karoake bar. We hung out there for a while. One of the many funny parts of the whole wedding weekend was when Robert and Daniel Hazlewood got up to sing Johnny B. Good. Robert ended up singing while Daniel ended up making a fool out of himself by dancing. EDITED FOR CONTENT

Sleep and Joy

Sleep will come much sooner than I expected tonight. My guess was that I'd be in bed around 4:00 a.m. Fortunately, though, many amazingly sacrificial people stayed after the wedding to pitch in. We were done at midnight.

In the next couple of days I'll be blogging about the past few days. Now I will just say that they have perhaps been the most joy-filled three days of my life. And at just the right time. I had begun for a little while to lose hope in many things.

Not now.

In the Midst of My Madness

I'm sitting here in the middle, in a small window of time I've been given by myself during the madness of Jason's wedding and other stuff. Rehearsal dinner is over, people are on their way over here.... and here are my thoughts. Thoughts I've long suspected and even believed....... The holy moments are found when there is no agenda but love-- detailed, thoughtful, and demonstrative love.

Thoughts

1. Jason and Christy's wedding....
2. Having Blake in town....
3. My grandmother's death....
4. Processing through "About a Boy"......
5. Last week's illness and subsequent tiredness......
6. Playing with Jude and Sutton......
7. The music of Johnny Cash, particulary "Sunday Morning Coming Down,"....
8. My fatigue, weariness, and grief....
9. Conversations with Tim....
10. Contemplation......
11. Unwilling isolation....


have all converged on my life at the same time, making me realize many things about myself. namely-- i am a very emotional, sensitive person who feels deep thoughts-- close your eyes while singing type thoughts, about people and ideas, that i tend to think are best kept hidden from full view of those i love. but the reality is it does me, nor those around me, any good to leave them guessing about who i am and where i stand.

-and-

all the good stuff we say we believe about God really is true. unapologetically, un ironically, un cynically, true.

Comfort

It's really been a shitty couple of weeks, with a few glimpses of grace. This song by Burlap to Cashmere brings me comfort tonight:

This tent not mine
My hands are on
If I had no feet to run
It would be a blessing
It would be a blessing from above

And if the trees were never planted
and the mountains not slanted
If there was no more water to part
it would still be a work of art

And in my darkest rooms
I push and shove away
But in my fall
He will stay

To the sea I will love
Higher mountains I will discover
From above, from above
From above, I will heal

And I am just a prisoner here
A breath away from another fear
Seasons one day will shed my soul
This tent not mine
Him in control

And my emotions sometimes controls me
And my pride can toll me
But as I was sent here I am loved
in the realms of heaven up above

And in my darkest rooms
I push and shove away
But in my fall
He will stay

Most people will read the following and say to themselves... "Craig's pretty funny. Saying all that shit for dramatic effect." Well, from my skewed perspective, it's not drama. It's reality.

As stated previously, I got in to see a 103 year old doctor. I get to the place and the lady at the desk asks me to fill out some information. I say ok and then ask her how much it cost. Evidently that's not an easy question to answer. She looked at me like I'd lost my mind. She said that all depended on what your insurance co-pay is. Let me just start out by saying, being a rookie at this whole medical industry thing, I have no fucking clue what any of these terms mean: co-pay, deductible, premium, ppo, opo, opp, whatever. She asked to see my insurance card, which I have lost. But I do have a phone number to call some prick at Barnes and Noble in New York, who tells me all my numbers to give the bitch. So I give her the numbers and she says "Well, you don't have a co-pay, but you have a $400 deductible at which point your insurance will go in 90%-10%." At which point I say, "Huh?" Basically, I figured out, I pay the doctor money until I get to $400, then the insurance takes over from there. What kind of shit is that? I average a doctor visit about .0000000243 each year. So with that, it's not even worth the money being taken out of my paycheck to even have insurance. So I suck it up and say "Alright, well then how much does a visit cost?" She says that it basically depends on what the doctor does, but a general visit costs $60. Ok, that sets me back a bit, but not anything I can't handle.

So I get called into the office. Some fairly attractive nurse takes my height and weight, and sets me down to take my blook pressure and pulse. I was actually beginning to think that this chick was my doctor, because she seemed very doctorly. But she left and said the doctor will be right in to see you. I'm sitting there waiting. Luckily I had thought to bring my own reading material, so I began to read this absolutely hilarious story by David Sedaris in his "Holidays on Ice" book that I bought yesterday. There was something that clicked in the hallway every not and then that sounded like a door about to be opened, so I was startled several times, thinking the doctor was coming in. But it took about 30 minutes before that happened.

Finally a lady in her early forties came in and introduced herself as Dr. Something (I forgot her name.) I introduced myself and almost asked where her grandfather was.

I forgot to mention one thing. There was this poster that had a diagram of the male reproductive system. I was looking at it during my wait, and I couldn't help but think how well endowed I am compared with whoever they used as the model. Did they use a model, or just draw based on collective memory? Who knows. But all that to say, I'm no John Holmes (a dead, well endowed, porn star I've heard people talk about (wink, wink)), but compared with the reproductive system guy, I'm pretty big.

Anyway, back to the lady doctor. She checks my ears and nose and mouth and chest and back, and had me breath really deep, and told me that there was a little discoloration in my left ear, but that was probably due to the scarring of tissue during my childhood problems, and that she was going to have some other chick come in and do a nasal swab to check for flu.

I begin another wait. I get tired of sitting on the patients table so I get down to sit on a chair with a back on it. I start thinking about a million different things. After another 20 minute wait, another girl comes in with a big long Q-Tip to shove up my nose. She starts to do it, then says "Oh, wait, I wanted to show (insert some other girl's name) how to do this. So she goes and gets the original girl who took my weight and shows her how to put a q-tip up my nose. It's actually pretty easy, she could have told her over the phone how to do it and everything would have been ok. But who knows, maybe she was doing all kinds of subtle shit that my untrained eye was too ignorant to see. Anyway, I get the q-tip up my nose then am told it'll be about 15 more minutes and that the doctor has gone to the hospital. What kind of shit is that? I'm in the middle of being seen by the doctor and she goes to the hospital.

Anyway, another 30 minutes pass and the doctor comes in and says I don't have the flu, but I do have an upper respiratory infection and that she's going to give me an injection of something and prescribe something and something else. She leaves and about 10 minutes later this pentecostal lady comes in and says she's going to give me an injection in my bottom (ass). I'm glad it was her, because I didn't want the semi-good lookin girl seeing my bottom. I wanted to ask the pentecostal lady if she spoke in tongues, but I didn't.

Man did the shot hurt. I literally made vocal noises expressing my pain, and the word "Shit" came out at least twice. I wanted to apologize to the pentecostal lady, but I figured she'd heard it before. I get the feeling that pentecostals are pretty wild under the surface. When the needle came out I felt something leaking out my butt cheek. It was either blood, at which poing I think the lady got a little too overzealous, or it was medicine, at which point I was probably going to need another shot because all of it leaked out. I guss it didn't bother her, because she just put the band aid on and said "Here's your prescription."

I leave the office and go to the paying window. The bitch on the other side said "Alright Mr. Nash, what we'll need you to do now is undo your belt, drop your pants, boxers included, turn around and bend down. We are going to rape you now."

That's not exactly what she said, but that's what it sounded like. What she really said was "Alright Mr. Nash, that'll be 260 dollars." And I became the asshole customer that I hate. "What! 260 dollars!?" She gives me a list of all that the doctor did. The visit was like 80 dollars. The q-tip was 90, and the pentecostal lady was around a hundred. So I paid a hundred and they said they'd bill me the rest. Maybe I'll get it paid off by the time I retire.

I go to Wal Mart to get my prescription filled. I ask the lady how much it'll cost and she says it depends on my insurance. I give her the info and ask her how much it'll cost if the insurance doesn't pay any. She says $90. And I say "What?!" Oh well, I've got to get better. I go and eat at McDonalds. On my way back to the pharmacy I'm arleady unbuckling my belt and pulling my pants down, getting ready to be raped again financially. I walk up to the counter, ass first, and say "Please be gentle with me this time." The lady says the insurance pays most of the prescription, I just have to pay $25.

That's a lot of writing just to say I've had a shitty day, and I still have to go to work.

Sick

It should tell you how horrible I feel that after seven years of not going to a doctor, I finally woke up this morning and decided I need to see one. Do you realize how hard it is to get seen by a fucking doctor these days? When I was a kid in Chandler, I'd wake up sick, mom would say "You're going to the doctor," we'd get in the car and drive to the doctor and thirty minutes later I had a shot or some medicine and I was feeling better. Today? "Yes we are taking new patients. We can get you in on November 30. Not good? Well, we have an opening on January 2, 2005." What the fuck! Just take me in, listen to my shit with your fucking instruments, and give me the goddamned medicine! How hard is that?!

So I finally, after calling literally 23 doctors, got someone to see me at 11:00 today. I was calling from a list from my insurance company. After I got the bitch on the other end of the phone to let me in, and thanked her, and hung up, I looked at the doctors information. M.D. good. University of Texas..... good. Graduation date 1946..... oh my God. I'm about to go see some eighty year old doctor. Unless this guy tells me that Doogie Howser M.D. was based on his life, I'm not going to feel good about this.

Sometimes it just feels like the world is going my way (see myentries from around the end of October,) and sometimes the world just seems to be going to shit. This is one of those going to shit times. I feel as if I've lost my way.

ETBU

My plan was to wake up in the morning at around 4:30, leave around 5:00 to get to Marshall in time for homecoming festivities. Tonight at work I decided it would probably be best if I didn't go. This cold I have is still lingering and I'm quite sure I have a fever. Plus being gone last weekend for the funeral, and next weekend being so busy with Jason's wedding and Thanksgiving lovefeast, and then Thanksgiving..... I think it'll be good to just sit around the house and rest and try to get better.

I was really wanting to go to homecoming though for my five year reunion. If you know me even a little you know how special my time at ETBU was. Most people don't understand though... and I suppose that's ok. I don't understand them either.

Somebody please respond under my comments, so I know it's more than just me and Ben reading these things.

BEING A MARTYR


Without going too far into what is going on in the deep parts of my being right now, let me just say this. Within the past five minutes I have come to a very painful realization that I have the same tendencies to try to make myself into the victim in many situations-- a condition that I have railed against in other people and groups. Somehow it is easier to be a martyr than it is to suck it up and take your blows as they come to you.

Thanks Ben for the Comment Section

As you can see, my friend Ben has set up a comment section for my blog. So feel free to comment.

All I'm thinking about right now is how extremely wonderful Ed was tonight.

I'm so extremely blessed that even when I feel left out and isolated from so many people, God continues to break through my world in so many ways, both profound and mundane....... through the biography of St. Francis I'm reading....... through a day of work in which I leave with a sense of accomplishment at a job well done........ through dinner with a good friend...... through a night in which I spend 4 hours alternately reading, staring at the wall, napping, checking email, then repeating the cycle all over..... through a day off tomorrow, well deserved.....through knowing that crying brings comfort.

I had long suspected that my grandmother and I were the only people on my mom's side of the family who hadn't completely lost their lids. The funeral this weekend proved that to be very true.

First of all, the funeral. It was nice, the pastor was kind, but the frustrating thing is that the service reflected very strongly the people who planned it, namely my mom and her sister, but not my grandmother. Maw Maw would have preferred much more silence and reflection that what occured. After the pastor gave the opening remarks, he sat down, and the CD player started blaring out drum beats.... pow, pow pow pow, pow..... and I seriously look back to the control room because I think they've made a mistake and switched the music. But I looked over at my mom, who had the biggest smile on her face, so I knew it wasn't a fuck up on behalf of the funeral home people. It was what my mom wanted. After a few bars of the drum beats, we hear the beautiful, melodic voice of the great Canadian singing sensation Anne Murray belting out "I can see clearly now the rain is gone..... I can see all obstacles in my way... blah blah blah..... It's going to be a bright (BRIGHT!), bright (BRIGHT!), sun shiney day." Oh well, so much for the silence and sensibility that my grandmother exhibited. I guess it's ok, though. She wasn't the person who needed to be comforted during that time, but my mom was. And she was.

But the funniest, and I do mean funniest (I was laughing about it even during the funeral,) part of the whole time came about fifteen minutes before the service. Many of us grandchildren, and other assorted relatives, casually congregated in this little lounge area of the funeral home where they have coffee and drinks. Now, before I tell you what happens, let me let you in on a little secret that I let you in on at the first part of this blog. My family has completely, totally, utterly, and every other exhaustive term you can use, lost their fucking minds.

So we're all sitting around waiting on the service, and one of my cousins blurts out "I'm bipolar. I was diagnosed two years ago." Now, in any other group of people this would cause great discomfort... someone, without provaction, letting you know they have a serious menal illness. But not my family. Nooooo. What comes next? Another cousin (not really a cousin, but someone we call a cousin), "Really!? Me too!) My sister (who is really my sister) "Yeah, me too. I was diagnosed a few years back." Another cousin (of the not real variety) "Wow, me too!" Another cousin (again of the not real variety--- there's a lot of familial confusion in east texas) "I'm not bipolar.... I'm just crazy!!!" So here we are, fifteen minutes before my grandmother's funeral, and we have a group of highly sedated thirty somethings comparing their Meds. "I'm on Zanzadil." "Oh, I tried Zanzadil, but it made me break out." "Oh, then you must be allergic to Zanzadil, you have to balance it out with Kryptonite." "No, I tried the Zanzodil and Kryptonite mixture.... didn't work. What you need to try is a coctail of Tryphoid and Kakal in the morning, balanced out with Zanzadil in the evening, and a nice shot of prozac before you go to bed." ***

When my grandmother was alive, and people were being total idiots, she would always look over at me, furl her eyebrows and roll her eyes, and say "Sheee- ut" (east texas for shit.) And the reason I laughed during the funeral is because I can imagine that's exactly what my grandmother was doing. Looking over at me and saying "Shee-ut. These fucking people have lost their goddamned minds. They're minutes away from putting my body in the ground, and all they can talk about are the pills they're swallowing."

It's great to have a relationship with people in which you instinctively understand each other. I think it's very rare. Such was the case with my grandmother and me.
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*** All medications are made up, except for prozac. I can't pronounce, much less spell, the stuff they were saying.

Last night around midnight I laid down in bed and started reading the biography of St. Francis of Assisi. The opening chapter tells of Francis' death and the great fanfare (even though he would have hated that) that went along with it.

About the same time I was reading the account of his death, my last grandparent, my mom's mother, passed away-- with very little fanfare. In her sleep she quitely passed on. A couple of days before my mom knew it was getting close to being time, so she went to the nursing home and sang to maw maw and told her that everything will be ok, that it's ok to go whenever she needed.

My grandmother was a giant in my life. My dad's parents died when I was very young, so I don't remember them very well. My mom's dad passed away when I was a senior in high school. WWII did horrible things to him, and he was terribly distant. I loved him, but he was never able to reciprocate that.

But my grandmother was a moving force in my life. She spent all of her energy taking care of others. I probably learned more about being a decent human being from her than from anyone else in my life. Her life was every bit as honorable and kind as any caricature of "the old times." She used to make pies for neighbors, for no real reason at all other than being kind. She was still of the generation that you go on daily walks and when you get tired, you find who is out and about, and you go sit on their front porch and shoot the breeze.

My greatest memory of my grandmother is the times we spent in complete silence sitting on her front porch. When I was growing up, we lived about an hour and a half from Carthage-- my grandparents home town, and the town my mom grew up in. So we only got to visit about once every couple of months. But when I went to college, I was only a 25 minute drive from her house. The four years I spent in Marshall were wonderful for our relationship. I would go to her house about once a week to wash clothes, take her out to the Dairy Queen or Daddy Sams (she never found time to learn how to drive, so I was her chauffeur.) But most importantly, we would sit on the front porch, drink iced tea, and watch the afternoon go by. No pretension. No irony. No chic attitude. No need to be cool or accepted. Just two people enjoying the breeze rustling through the pine trees of east texas.

That's what I'll keep.

I had the hardest time sleeping last night. I seem to be coming down with a cold. I had the thing where I had a minor sore throat yesterday that had the feel that something worse was on it's way. When I went to bed I had phlegm all in my throat, I woke up sweating with my mouth leaking. I ended up taking some of Tom's NyQuil to go to sleep. I could get addicted to that stuff.

It was rough going to work because I was so tired from yesterday. I was a little more productive today, though.

Every now and then I get frustrated and depressed with my situation, and here is why. I live among leavers. Most everyone that I have a relationship with here in Waco doesn't plan on being in Waco in the next few years. That mentality was ok when I was 23 and all my friends lived very transient lives, but I'm about to be thirty. I can't keep having people walk in and out of my life every few years for the rest of my life. No matter what anyone says, and no matter how much technology and progress allows people to move around and travel all the time, humans weren't meant to interact this way. There are supposed to be close bonds that last, within proximity of each other, for years on years. Unfortunately most of my friends are more interested in the illusion of happiness just around the corner, leaving me here in a content, but potentially lonely, place.

Too often I wait until I think I have something cool to say before I journal. I need to be more comfortable sharing the boring facts of what goes on in my days. I always say it is in the mundane that we truly experience life. I guess it's time I wrote as if I really believe that's true.

Today I worked from 7-4. It was a frustrating day because I never really got anything done. I started several things, but it was one of those situations where I started something and realize I had to get something else out of the way before I could start. Then I realized there were something to get done before I do that thing, and on and on. Next thing I knew it was 4:00 and nothing was done. I decided to put up the Sting poster so I could have something to show for it.

Afterwards I came home, took a nap, went for a walk, then started watching TV. There was a special in ABC about "The DaVinci Code." It was very interesting. The book is extremely popular, and I have had a very general sense about what it's all about, but I have never really given it a lot of my attention. Where I'm at now with it--- I think it's possible that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were married, but I really don't see any evidence either way. I guess the big question is this: Does it affect my faith in any way? And I think the answer is no. If it is true that Jesus had a wife, and had children, that doesn't really change my belief about who he was, and is. I absolutely loved what this one priest said. He feels like, even though it is possible Mary and Jesus were married, he thinks too much is being made about it-- mainly because of Christianity's skewed views on sex. What he thinks is being passed over is this extraordinary truth: that Jesus, more than any other religious figure in history, extolled the value of women-- so much so that one of his closest followers was a women. I think that's cool.

Later on I watched the Gauntlet. I think the Matt guy needs to grow up a little. I appreciate his fervor and dedication. I think he did a lot to alienate a lot of people. Had he tried to build bridges with certain people, rather than destroying them, I think he'd still be on the show. But having been the way he was before, I know there is no way other than experience that will encourage him to change.

I had the day off yesterday. Sunday school was good. I was in the nursery, so I'm not quite sure how church was. Later I watched the Cowboys v. Redskins. I'm very happy we won, but man was it an ugly game.

I've got about 45 pages left of Eggers book. I should be finished with it by the end of this week.

I got up this morning and messed around. Decided to go to Dallas to look for a Halloween costume and to see if my friend Brent was free for lunch. He is one of my best friends. We met working at Timberline back in '91 and have been close friends ever since. Roomed together in college. I used to talk to him almost every day. This year, though, we've really grown apart. I haven't talked to him in a couple of months, and hadn't seen him since January, until today. We met up in Deep Ellum which is right next door to Baylor Hospital where he works. It was cool catching up with him and sharing our knowledge of what's been going on with the rest of our friends.

The cool part of the day was when I came back. Tim found out that Dr. Beck was giving a "Last Lecture." Appearantly Campus Living and Learning started this thing last year where they'd have a distingushed faculty give a lecture as if it was their last. Dr. Beck was my favorite seminary professor, and right on up there with Dr. Tankersley, Mr. Yancey, and Mrs. Fisher as my all time favorite teachers.

In her lecture she explored three questions: What is my purpose? When do you say enough is enough? and Why do I get up in the morning. It was wonderful.

The thing that really hit home was the part about when enough is enough. I read that on the paper and was thinking it probably had something to do with when is it ok to stand up for yourself, or something like that. But she actually talked about possesions. She encouraged us to ask the question, is what we have more than enough, and if so, is it too much? She talked about St. Francis of Assisi who founded the Franciscan order, and how he never took any possesion that didn't ultimately bring joy to himself and other people. In other words, when he had the opportunity to have more stuff, he always asked himself, "Will this really bring me joy." He found that really the only things that bring true joy are God and people.

I have wrestled with these ideas for several years now. I'm pretty sure where I stand spiritually and very sure that how I live doesn't match up with what I believe. I have WAY too much shit. I spent over fifty fucking dollars on a damn halloween costume today. I've got more food in my pantry than I could possibly eat in a couple of weeks, and yet about every other day I spend a shitload of money at some restaurant.

Not really sure what all this means, but I know I need to change.

There are at least two things that have made me happy over the past couple of days.

Thing one. Tonight was the finale of the Joe Schmoe Show. Matt Kennedy Gould, as he has shown all along, is the model Christian-- even though he probably isn't even a Christian. At least he's a model person. The guy is the nicest guy ever. Continually, throughout the show, he always calculated in favor of others. He was always consistent with who he was. He was not enslaved by the artistic irony that seeks to slyly place ourselves about everyone else in culture, and cynicism that demeans ideas that is so prevalent in our generation. He took the hits as they came to him. He valued truth. He stood up for those that were demeaned. Being nice to him was a virtue. That's one thing that's missing these days. Nice people, in our culture, are either considered fake or oblivious. No one can handle nice people, and even the words "nice person" is seen as quaint and belittling. It's far better to be angry and mean in our culture than it is to be nice. But Matt seems to live his life counterculturally-- which is to say, in line with traditional American culture. He wasn't without flaws, and he made no bones about his shortcomings-- he didn't gloss them over as being "just who he is" but he didn't let his flaws imprison him either. I'd love to be considered just a Joe Schmoe if it means being like Matt Kennedy Gould.

Thing two is very closely in line with thing one. Coming home from watching the kids in Hewitt last night I noticed something that was very hilarious-- a triumphant moment for small town community and locally controlled capitalism. The Church's chicken that was built less than a year ago on Hewitt drive across from Bush's fried chicken has closed down. I smiled so hard on that one my face almost broke. Somewhere in the corporate world not too long ago a meeting took place. In that meeting a group of executives, trying to squeeze as much money out of the market as possible said something along the lines of this-- "There's this small town fried chicken chain near Waco TX. It's ok, but these rednecks don't know what they're missing. We will build a Church's chicken directly in front of this place, driving them out of business, thus taking the entire fried chicken market in Hewitt TX." Needless to say, they got their ass kicked. Mr. Bush's, you're a hero.

Just two more triumpths for the Real America-- not the Hollywood or Harvard America.

I have been blessed with so much. That's all I'm really able to say right now.

This poem by W.S. Merwin has been on my mind all day:


Listen
with the night falling we are saying thank you
we are stopping on the bridge to bow from the railings
we are running out of the glass rooms
with our mouths full of food to look at the sky
and say thank you
we are standing by the water looking out
in different directions

back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging
after funerals we are saying thank you
after the news of the dead
whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you
in a culture up to its chin in shame
living in the stench it has chosen we are saying thank you

over telephones we are saying thank you
in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators
remembering wars and the police at the back door
and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you

in the banks that use us we are saying thank you
with the crooks in office with the rich and fashionable
unchanged we go on saying thank you thank you

with the animals dying around us
our lost feelings we are saying thank you
with the forests falling faster than the minutes
of our lives we are saying thank you
with the words going out like cells of a brain
with the cities growing over us like the earth
we are saying thank you faster and faster
with nobody listening we are saying thank you
we are saying thank you and waving
dark though it is

Without critiquing too much, let me just say this: Church this morning was amazing. From the worship to the sermon, it was the perfect ending to my weekend. I'll elaborate more when I get off of work this evening.

As I began my drive from Waco to Brownsboro yesterday, I was a little nervous to tell you the truth. I didn't think I'd be, but I was. I hadn't seen most of my classmates in over ten years. I was scared I wouldn't remember many people. Worse, I was scared there wouldn't be many people that remembered me. And the biggest fear of all was the fear that people WOULD remember me, but wouldn't care to talk to me. Because that was, and is, pretty much the only true source of fear for those in high school as well as those of us ten years removed from high school. Not that people wouldn't know you, but that people do know you but consider you irrelevant.

But somewhere around Murchison, which is the last little town before Brownsboro, I had this thought: Who gives a flying fuck if I'm ignored at my reunion? Do I really have anything to lose? The following names and faces began to appear on the screen of my psyche: Tim, Ben, Kyle and family, Tracey, Wesley, Susan Matthes, Jason and Christy, Blake, Robert-- and I realized that there are people with whom I have cultivated many years into building a safe place of community around me, and I've got everything, relationship-wise, I could ever need. This thought freed me up to really just be myself and fall headlong into having a good time at the reunion.

With this out of the way, I became comfortable about seeing my old friends, but I wasn't expecting a whole lot. I was expecting to enjoy seeing everyone, but not to really be emotional or too excited about it. I mean, after all, I shouldn't feel weird about not gelling with people I haven't seen in ten years. We've all been many places, experienced more stories, had more pains and joys, ten years worth to be exact, since high school.

Something very interesting happened though. My heart became very soft to the touch when people started to walk up. Yeah, it'd been ten years since I saw them, but one thing I forgot was this-- For many of my classmates, I'd spent thirteen years of my life with. THIRTEEN FUCKING YEARS! There were also about half a dozen that I had gone to daycare with since I was born, bumping that number up to 18 years. That's a lot of time.

And suddenly the ten lost years were no longer important. The fact that I have worked for a U.S. Senator, been overseas, had a wonderful college experience, have a good life now, meant jack shit. The only things that mattered were 15-18 years worth of stories. Being back at Lamplighter, playing in the sandbox with Hallee and Matt and Trista and Joyce-- that mattered. Being in Mrs. Oliver's kindergarten class, anticipating which learning center I'd get to go to that particular day-- that mattered. Being in Junior High, joining up with the Brownsboro elementary students such as Tracey and Kevin and Cliff, that mattered. Playing spades in Government with Susie and Benji and Misty and George mattered. At that moment, band trips and summer rehearsal mattered immensely. And really, above all else, what mattered was us creating a safe place, putting behind us all the differences and fights and the deeming of relevance, and genuinely showing care for each other. Showing sadness at the dissolved marriages. Showing we care about each other by the passing around of babies. Asking about parents. Sharing the lives we live now.

Relevance at that point was irrelevant. What was important was that we were fully there in the moment.

Tomorrow after work I leave for my ten year high school reunion. Not quite sure what to expect. It's weird, but I kind of feel like this is a very important event.... like it's almost necessary for me to get it over with in order to move on with the rest of my life. Strange.

If we lived in a world without conflict, would there be such a thing as story?

I'm a total Real World junkie, and not in the least bit ashamed.

With that out of the way, let me just say that CT must be doing something to his housemates off campus to piss them off because, based on what I've seen, I don't see why they give him such a hard time. I think they all have some serious identity issues and are just using him as a scapegoat so as to not have to deal with their personal issues.

So I've got too much free time on my hands. Who doesn't?
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A couple of weeks ago I had the opportunity to preach at UBC. Out of all the times I've preached, I've felt better about that Sunday than all the rest. I spoke on the UBC Core Value of the Experiential.

Two things I need to work on, though. First, I have a tendency to throw in tons of shit that isn't in my notes. I've got to stop that. I normally end up saying something real dumb when I do that.

Lastly, I need to learn to make my sermons MUCH shorter. The CD that was made of it went 46 minutes-- and that was with a little bit cut off of the beginning and the end. I don't realize they're taking that long when I'm giving them, they just do. More on the sermon later.

It's the next Tuesday after the Tuesday in which I said I'd be blogging quite a bit. It's also the last day of my vacation. So I'd better get busy.
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A few weeks ago, I believe it was on a Tuesday night, I went to bed around 9:45. It had been a long day and I had to open the store at 7:00 the next morning. If you don't know me very well, let me clue you in to a very important truth of my life-- I love sleep. I love knowing I get at least eight hours of sleep a night. I am constantly calculating what time I need to go to bed in order to get at least eight hours. I'm weird like that.

Tim calls me around 10:30, asks if I'm asleep, then says he wants me to wake up. He wants to invite me to something very special. I'm thinking possibly that he wanted to come over and drink or something, since he can't do that on campus. He told me to take a few minutes to wake up, then he'd call me back.

He called back and told me that Maik had decided that this was the night he wanted to be baptized, and that he wanted to know what I thought about it. My conservative, traditional side automatically kicked in, and I told him that I think big time things like baptism should be done within the context of a church community. So Tim said that he'd talk to him about that and get back with me.

As I was waiting, my mind went back to students at ETBU baptizing recently "saved" people in the Quad Fountain. I remember how, at the time, even though I was open to "outside the box" type shit like that, I really thought it was very pretentious to think that you can just baptize people wherever and whenever the hell you felt like it. I guess this just stems from my strong view of the importance of church. Church, not in the universal sense, but in the sense of being a community of faith in which people make a very deliberate decision to walk alongside each other for an extended period of time-- not just a group of Christian friends

Anyway, Tim calls me back about five minutes later and informs me that, even though they appreciate my opinion, they are going to go ahead and do it and would like me to be there. And so, of course I went. Even though I really felt that, for me, the time and place weren't real appropriate, I still appreciate other people's view and would definitely not pass up an opportunity to be a part of something so special.

I got to Tim's place. As we were waiting for other people to come over to figure out where we'd do this, Maik kind of walked me through his thinking. About how Tim had led him to Christ a few years before and how he'd been considering baptism for quite some time, and how he really appreciated my imput but how being in a building really wasn't that important to him (which showed a huge misunderstanding of the reasoning behind my view. I could care less about having a building either... it was more about the community aspect.)

Anyway, people came over, we went to the Baylor Marina, sang some worship songs that I had no clue how to sing, and Maik was baptized.

So, here's what was reinforced to me. Christianity isn't always nice and neat and pretty. Sometimes we have to be in places that are uncomfortable for us to really experience God in special moments. But, less you misunderstand me, that truth goes for all different types of people. Perhaps God wanted to stretch me to be in a place where I was uncomfortable-- a place that was not encumbered by all the trappings of institutional religion. But it's also true that maybe God wants to stretch the thinking of more progressive people by placing them in a place with more order and stability. We love to think of traditional people as being closed minded, but it's also true that progressive people are just as closed minded.

Despite all my misgivings, I was very glad I was able to be a part of such a special moment in the life of a new friend. My prayer is that Maik, in his continuing journey with Christ, will continue to experience God through all the joys and pains of this life-- and that we can all appreciate a God that sometimes is comfortable with a very messy reality that doesnt' always have our preconceived notion of what is good or right in mind.

Ben brought to my attention something that I'm well aware of... It's been many, many days since I've blogged. Truth is, I just haven't been motivated. But, with this being my vacation, I'll get motivated.

Here's just a quick synopsis of the things that's been going on and which I will be writing about sometime in the near future: Maik's baptism, my sermon, my ten year reunion coming up, more thoughts on place, me getting old, me trying to get healthier, etbu recruiting trip, and other random shit.

So, stay tuned......

Today I had to work from 7-9:30 and am going back at about 5:00 to work until midnight. It's been boring since I came home.

I started working on my sermon today that I'll be giving here in a couple of weeks. I'm glad that I came to the realization that this time around I have a fulltime job and can't wait until a week before to start preparing. I'm actually hoping to have it done by next Monday, so I'm not as stressed out about it. Right now my plan is to talk abou the beatitudes and their relevance to the countercultural tendency among many young people.

It seems like many that I talk to, and whose blogs I read, have this great need to speak what they perceive as truth to power. A lot of wanna-be prophets whose purpose is to seek out injustice (even though we have a hard time defining that) and speak out about it. But no one is offering any genuine alternative. Oh, you ask them and they'll give you a good, and different, agenda, but I'm not seeing any really substantive ALTERNATIVE. I think maybe we are displacing problems.

Anyway that's a lot of rambling. Hopefully it'll take some form as the days go on.

Seth has a link to a friend of his blog on his page. http://theinvisibleman.blogspot.com. I read this guy's, (or girl's), ramblings against Americans. He says something along the lines of "I hate Americans." And goes on to tell a story about how the people in his class are conservative idiots and look down on him because he's liberal. I almost got totally ticked off until I realized this kid was in high school. At least I assume he is, since he said his class was taught by a coach.

I wish, though, I could just count this toward a youthful ignorance. But the unfortunate thing is that it seems to be common among people in their twenties. It's obvious that this kid either a.) is angry at the world, possibly at the fact that he has never traveled much, and is taking out on all the idiots of his class or b.) has traveled to a foreign country once or twice for a couple of weeks at a time, and feels like his vacation experience validates him to rip on all americans for the stupidity of a few.

Anyway, I personally don't have a lot of problems with Americans. Sure, there's some fucked up Americans. But there are fucked up French, British, Somalian, Russian, even Estonian. We are all ignorant in our own particular way. It's no reason to hate.

I have no real problem with people who play the guitar. In fact I love a good guitar player. David Crowder, Carlos Santana, Johnny Cash, Roseanne Cash, Slash, Chet Atkins, Eric Clapton...... all wonderful. Even those with much less ability please me to no end.

But for the love of all that is true and holy, if you are in someone's house or any other setting where there is a guitar in close proximity, don't just assume that I want to hear you play guitar. I'll find out if you're good soon enough, you don't have to prove it to me.

If I want to hear music I will either A.) Turn my stereo on, B.) Be in my car, C.) Go to a concert, D.) Be at some other event where it is assumed music will be (i.e., church,)or E.) Ask you if you will play something for me.

If I'm with a group of friends I want to be either A.) Talking, B.) Sitting in silence, reading or watching television, enjoying each other's company.

I think one of the rudest things you can do is assume people enjoy listening to you as much as you enjoy listening to yourself.

Just a random thought that has no context whatsoever. :)

I'm going to be late for work, but I didn't want to go any longer without saying how complete I am now that "Ed" is back on the air. Last night was great! Ed finally did it with Carol. And, although in real life situations I don't encourage doing the schloppidy spoo with someone that you just started dating, in Stuckeyville, I'm ecstatic that Ed and Carol decided to do the flippidy flop. Here's the funniest line from the entire show-- which came after Ed and Carol fandangled for the 2nd time, and Carol was wondering how the first time was so bad, but the second time was amazing:

Carol (panting profusely): Tell me Ed, why was last time so much like, well, last time, and this time was so much like this time.

Ed (also panting): I don't know. I guess this time we did it we really had nothing to lose........... That, plus I googled "How to satisfy your woman."

So, here's the deal..... I'm the one who made the anonymous comment on Seth's blog which spurred a response from him that expressed his displeasure at anyone posting anonymously. Sorry, I forgot to put my name there. I just want it to be known that I have nothing against Seth. With what little time I spent around him I found him quite intelligent and funny. All my friends that knew him liked him, so I guess I like him too. So I hope, Seth, that you didn't take taht personal.

But here's the story of my comment. Seth's particular blog entry had to do with Newlyweds: The Nick and Jessica Story, which follows Nick Lachey (sp?) and Jessica Simpson around during their first year of marriage. Seth, lamenting the mind numbing triviality of the things with which Nick and Jessica talk about, made the following comment: "people are in poverty and this is on television." to which I replied "people are in poverty and you are watching this on television." I thought I made quite a clever comment, the likes of which I rarely have the brains to think of. I don't think he appreciated my comment.

My frustration: I've watched the Nick and Jessica show about one and a half times. It's stupid. Intellectually, it's about 3/4 of a notch above the Anna Nicole Show. Jessica is a spoiled brat on the show (which confirms what my friends who know her say about her.) Nick is an arrogant bastard- American male type. The show has no social relevance or conscience whatsover. And you know what? I love it! It's great entertainment. And here's why I can appreciate it. It's not on CSPAN. It's not BBC. It's not PBS. It's not A&E. It's fucking MTV for crying out loud! The network that brought us Vanilla Ice, Pauly Shore, and Downtown Julie Brown. (I'm from the Old School MTV-- anyone else remember "Remote Controlled?") If MTV had ever made a claim of having any sort of humanitarian value, then a statement about the existence of "Newlyweds" while people are living in poverty would be a valid complaint. But it hasn't, and it isn't.

So again, please don't take my comment personally. I'm always afraid when I speak up about something someone said that that particular person will think I don't like them, and therefore not like me. I'm drastically messed up emotionally like that.

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While I'm at it, let me get another rant out of the way. Within the past couple of days, I've made a comment about a particular thing that people do that gets on my nerves. At one point, I made it in a very rude and inappropriate way-- because of which I will need to seek someone out and apologize for how I said those things.

Here's what it is, and it's frustrated me for quite some time now.

This person, speaking about religious zealots at Baylor, prefaced one of his comments with the words "especially at Baylor." I made it clear that saying was one of my pet peeves. It came across as just another of my hangups about Baylor and being a part of a "Baylor Church." But it wasn't intended that way at all.

I was having this conversation not to long ago when I realized something: I don't know if this is a Texas thing or what. But, as a generalization, Texans love to exaggerate to good things. We love to talk about how everything is bigger and better here. But I think the inverse is true as well. (This may be more of a youthful ignorance rather than a Texan arrogance.) We also have a tendency to exaggerate the bad things as well.

Therefore, the religious freaks at Baylor aren't just religious freaks, their the worst of all religious freaks. Here in Waco someone says "The students at Bayor are especially arrogant and persistent about pressuring other people into spiriitual beliefs," and I think "Especially at Baylor? What about Brigham Young? What about Wheaton? What about Texas A&M (have you ever met an A&M evangelical Christian? weird.) " When I was at ETBU, people would say "Man, ETBU especially is such a spiritual bubble," and I'm thinking "Really? Especially ETBU? What about Bob Jones? What about Hardin Simmons?" I go home to East Texas and people say "You know, this is the most closed minded place in the world," and I think "Really? What about Saudi Arabia? What about France? What about New York? You ever met anyone from Manhattan or France who was open to new ideas?"

I don't know why we have a need to accentuate the negative and create such a caricature of ourselves. I think that maybe, when we get a little bit of education (or book learnin' as my dad likes to call it,) we feel like we have risen above those around us. Or at least we need to create the appearance that we've risen above it. So, if we fear being in an environment that is marked with religious fanaticism will mark us as a religious fanatic, then we will create a caricature of everyone around us as a RAGING fanatic- in order to create a distance between us and them. We grow up in a small town, and we don't want to be labled closed minded-- just preemptively label everyone else in the town as being the ultimate in closed mindedness, and you have nothing else to worry about.

And in a weird way, this fucked up mentality is probably the thing that is most fucked up with me personally. When I get upset at Baylor students for trying to paint a caricature of the Baylor culture, maybe what I'm subconciously saying is "Hold on there buddy. That's my territory your walking into. I'm the only one with a legitimate right to make fun of Baylor. I'm the one that went somewhere else for undergrad. I'm the one that was treated like crap when I worked there. I'm the one that was on the losing end of a financial aid game at Truett that rewarded every type of student except for me. I'm the martyr here! You can't be the martyr! I'm the martyr!" And so my wanting to create distance is really a way of wanting to create attention.

Which is yet another truly messed up reality of being human. And yet another reason why grace is ESPECIALLY necessary for me right now. :)

Well, I worked today. Again. For like the 12th out of 13 days. I enjoy my job, but this is ridiculous. Actually, it wasn't that bad today. I didn't have anyone yell at me about customer order shit.

When I got home, I just wanted to stay home, which was what I did. Tim wanted to watch Gladiator, so that's what we did... after we went to go pick up Maik (that's pronounced Mike for us non Germans) and some Blue Bell. I finally got to try some of that Bailey's Irish Cream I got a few weeks ago. Put that shit in the ice cream, a little milk, it was, as the kids are saying these days, quite awesome.

I'm speaking with Robert right now online. He's my friend from ETBU who went to Spain on a whim this summer, and is now living in Florida on a whim. I love this guy. He's one of the people that I can talk about ANYTHING with. It's great.

Well, I need to do some cleaning. For a while there was a good balance between how much Tom cleaned and how much I cleaned. The scales, however, are slowly starting to tip back into his favor. So, it's time to get started.

Well, now I'm off from work.

I just can't seem to get rid of this fucking cold I've had for almost two weeks now. I thought I was getting better, but tonight I started coughing like nobody's business. I haven't been to a doctor in over 8 years, I think. I don't even know where to start. Can you get a doctor over the internet these days? Are there even real doctors around, or do robots do all that stuff now?

That's a crazy thought. The last time I visited a doctor was back in '95, and I had just heard about the internet. Holy shit, this thing has taken over the world. I remember being in the ETBU computer lab, and someone saying "hey, have you set up your email yet?" And I said "huh?" Then the email came, then porn (not that I've ever seen it, I've just heard people see it on the internet :), then this blogging stuff. What's next? Who knows?

Well, Ben's out of town to the ACL music festival this weekend. I think Tom's gone as well, but his car is still here. Maybe he's going tomorrow. Maybe he's already gone with somone. Not sure what Tracey and Wesley are up to this weekend. Tim's probably studying or doing chaplain stuff. Kyle's in town, but still working on sermon shit. I guess when I get off of work tomorrow at 3, I'll just come home and do nothing. I really need to finish the Eggers book. And the Life of Pi. And The Bottoms. And Elvis, Jesus, and Coca Cola. And The Last Jihad. I'm in too many books right now.

It sucks having to go to bed now, knowing in less than six hours I have to do this all again.

Hey, if your still reading this, thanks. Much love. Seriously.

Well, I'm off to work. Wish I had more to say. But I don't.

I just had one of the most jacked-up dreams ever. Took a little nap between my meeting at work and when I have to go back to work.

Here's the dream.

It started off with me watching the E! True Hollywood story of Gunsmoke. One of the stars of Gunsmoke, in my dream, not for real, was Eva Mae Coleman, my grandmother. The story was telling the dilemma the writers faced when Eva Mae's health started to go south. What would they do with her character? They eventually had to deal with her death. So they had her character in the show die. But, ironically, my grandmother died on the same day that her Gunsmoke character died. (Incidentally, my grandmother isn't dead-- just very sick.)

Somehow I found myself out on a western ranch, just weeping at the beauty of it all, thinking about how my grandmother never got to see the ranch. Not a real one anyway. Just the one on the set of Gunsmoke.

I was at the graveside of my grandmother's, but never actually went up to the service, because the rain created floods around the gravesite. As I was leaving the graveyard, some guy yelled to me that he needed a ride to Tyler. (I think we were in Dallas at the time.) So I decided to give him a ride. Actually, I decided to let him drive my vehicle, which was actually my dad's truck. We were driving through a massive storm. As we were driving, I was reflecting on my life, and thinking about the large mansion I lived in. (Which wasn't the house I'm really living in.) After a while of introspection, I looked over, and realized who the guy was that was driving-- it was Tobey Macaheean. Or TobyMac (and the mack is back no slack.) I freaked out inside, but tried to play it cool on the outside. I asked how the tour was going. I tried to pretend that I listen to his music, although I'd never heard anything of his other than one song, and other than DCTalk stuff. Eventually, I told him that he could let me off here in Waco (although we were on Spur 269- connecting highway 31 and loop 323 in Tyler.) So I got off and started walking. At this point, the storm had ceased, but the clouds were still in the sky.

I found myself walking along the spur, not sure where. Regina Meza, who, in real life, works in the cafe' at Barnes and Noble, began walking beside me. We were just chit chatting, then I remembered something-- Regina was in DCTAlk (in the dream, not in real life.) I remembered that it was TobyMac, That black guy, and Regina Meza (not quite sure how I left Kevin Smith out, since he's the only former DCtalker I've actually heard any music from.) I asked Regina what was going on with her. She got this excited look, like she had a secret but just had to tell someone. I guessed the secret and said "Holy crap Regina, is DC Talk getting back together?!" I'm really not quite sure why this excited me so much. She said that they are talking with their management, and that we should hear something soon. She was really hoping it would work out, since she hasn't quite made as much money in the Barnes and Noble cafe' as she had touring with DCTalk.

And that was the end of my dream. I woke up because I had to take a piss.
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So, here's where all that may have come from:

I watched the E! True Hollywood Story on Gimme a Break today, where they explained the need to write around the lead male character's cancer.

I visited my grandmother a couple of weeks ago in the nursing home, and it was the first time that I saw her that she wasn't my grandmother.... just one of those people we see in the nursing home that we feel sorry for.

A few months ago I started watching Gunsmoke again, since it was my grandfather's favorite show.

The storm probably came from hurricane Isabel.

A couple of days ago I heard a TobyMac song, my first ever, and actually liked it.

Regina was working in the cafe' this morning when I came in for my meeting.

Thinking of my mansion probably has something to do with Tom building that place near campus, and the possibility of me moving.


I'm pretty screwed up, it would seem.

"This sure doesn't feel like island living."

Some of the most spiritual moments occur in my life when I find myself having been smiling for some time without really consciously noticing it. That happened this evening when I was watching "About a Boy." It's a wonderful movie. All about a guy who really believes his life is better without any meaningful human relationships, until he opens up his heart to a boy that needs a sort of father figure.

Well, my day of vacation is about over. I need to get some rest. Long day tomorrow. 9-1 I'll be in some sort of training. I go home and come back at five until we close. I'll be worn out.

Well, Jason called and said he isn't coming. He did the Jason thing and made it look like my fault that he's not coming, since I didn't call him this morning. I think he wants to go home to see his family, which I understand. You've got to do what you've got to do.

So, I have the afternoon free now. Perhaps I'll start working on a sermon. I'm preaching in October. And if the next few weeks are anything like the past few, I'll be real busy with other stuff.

This is my first day off since last Monday. I woke up this morning about 5 a.m., played on the internet for a few minutes, watched a Seinfeld that my friend Tivo recorded for me, went back to bed, woke up at 8, started watching my story (that would be, the E! True Hollywood Story) on Sam Kinison, also courtesy of Tivo, fell asleep about a quarter of the way through that, woke up around 10:00. I'm already a little refreshed.

Today should be fun, and interesting at the same time. My friend Jason Fortenberry is visiting. He's a pastor in South West rural Louisiana and a friend from my year of working at ETBU. Haven't seen him in probably three years.

Also interesting is the fact that Mark Penick will be in town at the same time. Mark, as I like to tell people, is the best friend I've ever had that I absolutely cannot stand being around. I'll actually consider it an accomplishment if I can make it through the day avoiding him altogether. He's here to speak to Jason's youth group. Probably about God's glory, or some shit like that. I saw Louie Gigleo Monday night. I don't need to see him again.

I'm going straight to hell, I know it. But at least Coffee and Culture is tonight, so there's a little redemption for me.

At this particular point in my life (that would be today) these are my favorite things, people, facts, ideas... in no particular order:

-- The Joe Schmo Show
-- The fact that my mom is going through a phase where every day she sends me one of those email cards, for no particular reason.
-- Pumpkin Pie Cheesecake at the Barnes and Noble cafe'.
-- Susan Matthes is back in America.
-- Illuminate.
- Especially How Great, Intoxicating, and Revolutionary Love.
-- Next week, "Ed."
-- Kyle, Jen, Avery, Jude, Sutton.
-- Brent wants me to read a book with him.
-- Next month, vacation.
-- Thinking about cold weather.
-- UBC.
-- Tomorrow Fortenberry is in town.
-- Thinking of growing old.
-- The situation with you know who and you know who.
-- Ben blogging. (You rock!)
-- Kent Haruf has a new book in a few months.
-- Being able to say "a few months" and it no longer feeling like an eternity.
-- Freedom from ambition.
-- Shema.
-- The fact that I haven't had to go grocery shopping in more than a week.
-- Freedom to explore and experience irony.
-- Freedom from irony.
-- New boldness to share feelings.
-- You.

I am a Christian.


I had some friends, old and new, come over after church for leftover taco soup. When they went home, I was left in the den in a very introspective mood. Listening to Sarah MacLachlan's "Building a Mystery" and David Crowder's "Open Sky," I came to this wonderful conclusion..... I am a Christian, and I'm totally ok saying that now. For several years I have not been comfortable saying that. Fear of being identified with certain groups of Christians kept me from proclaiming who I am, even to myself. I made up all kinds of cute little phrases like "I consider myself a follower of Christ," or "I am someone seeking God." But now, reflecting on how God has chosen to incarnate himself to me in the context of His people, I can say, unashamedly "I am a Christian." To be sure, I'm not like every other Christian. In fact, it's quite possible that I'm not like any other Christian. But that doesn't take away from this fact.... I have made a choice, responding to God's initiative, to follow the ways of Christ.

I have been really into Roseanne Cash's new CD "Rules of Travel" lately. The title song spews profundity. The gist of it, and really of the entire album, is found in the line "I want even start before we learn the rules of travel in each others heart."

To live in a world and to be a person who could tell people what I want them to know. To have people who truly understand the rules of travel within my heart. For people to know how sensitive I really am. For people to know how left out I feel sometimes. For those who love me to know how to express their love for me.

It's really the only necessary thing.. to be loved. To be cared about. For someone to think about you when you are not in their presence.... to be genuinely concerned for your welfare. I'm extremely blessed to have those in my life who are like that.

My life begs to be musical right now. I grew up watching art and poetry and life being put to music through MTV. Sometimes reality isn't like that, but imbedded within who I am is the desire for that reality to be true.

Maybe we could see how love is in our midst
If the music in our heads were transferred to our friends.