I have now crossed from poser to legit. I am now a true-bonified-100%-pure youth worker. I have walked the line. I have been to the dark side and back. . . .
I have rented a 15 passenger van.
Friday, January 28
Earned my Wings
I have now crossed from poser to legit. I am now a true-bonified-100%-pure youth worker. I have walked the line. I have been to the dark side and back. . . .
I have rented a 15 passenger van.
Friday, January 14
Clint and Pat
Well, with nothing else to say, I'll try and make a semi-humorous story as funny as I can. Here goes nothing. . .
In high school I played lacrosse. That's right. . . .watch out. We had all heard that on the east coast lacrosse was a preppie, v-kneck sweater-wearing sport. Our suspicions were confirmed when reading A Separate Peace in high school, and the richies in the story all played lacrosse. Let me tell you, though, in Texas, lacrosse is a different beast altogether. On the east coast, lacrosse is a game of skill and speed. In Texas, lacrosse is a game of skill, speed, and never-ending beat downs. You take a bunch of rag-tag guys at a 5A high school who don't want to be one of the thousands vying for a linebacker spot, and you get a lacrosse team. We all learned how to use that crazy stick to pass and catch, and the rest was details. In the east they start playing lacrosse as little kids, so when they get to high school passing and catching is second nature. In Texas, we make up for stick skills with our ability to unleash the fury on our opponents. I mean, really, who needs to know how to catch and throw when you can just beat someone until they drop the ball?
Our team didn't have a coach that worked at the school. He was a volunteer who just loved the game and wanted to be involved. I had two coaches during my high school years. The first was insane, the second was a marathoner. The first was a great motivator, with one liners like "Brandon, if that guy cuts around on you again, you fold him in half and send him home in a bag!!" The second was a little more timid, but could outdo us all. Trust me, having a marathoner as a conditioning coach is just asking for trouble. Here was a guy who, not only ran each drill with us, he could go on forever. Nothing sucks more than running two miles after practice and having your coach not break a sweat.
I played defense my last two years of high school. It was fun, mainly because it cut the field in half for me. The longest sprint I would be responsible for now was 55 yards. In a sport where the average player runs 4 miles a game, this was a big deal. Especially for someone as lazy as me. Our defense was made up of myself and a couple other guys who played for nothing more than the opportunity to be an old man and reminisce about the time they actually killed a man during a lacrosse game. One was Clint, the other was Patrick. . .I told you all that so I could tell you this.
Clint was larger than your average '4 miles a game' athlete. He had a mouth like Stern and drank more his senior year than I did all through college. He even played the tuba. . .how freakin perfect is that? Needless to say, Clint was a great guy. Him and I would ride together to away games, and he would always have one of his home speakers rigged into his truck so we could jam out on the way. I kid you not, it was a huge wooden speaker sitting in the middle of two 17 year olds flying down the highway blasting whatever 'motivational' song we could find.
Patrick was skinny, tall, and fast. He started playing lacrosse later than most of us, so his stick skills weren't all that great. But he made up for that with his psychological warfare. At the beginning of every game, he would tell the guy he was defending what a nice body he had, and go from there. I've never laughed so hard in my life. This would go on all game long, and guys would get so wierded out you could tell it affected their play.
All this is to wrap up one semi-funny event that happened at a tournament in College Station. We were staying on the second floor of a hotel where our rival high school was also staying. Bad idea. Long story short, all our scheming and plotting ended when Patrick and Clint ran out of the bathroom with cups full of something, shouting for us to open the door. So to anyone who played lacrosse for westlake high school in 1997, sorry for the cup 'o' crap on your doorstep.
In high school I played lacrosse. That's right. . . .watch out. We had all heard that on the east coast lacrosse was a preppie, v-kneck sweater-wearing sport. Our suspicions were confirmed when reading A Separate Peace in high school, and the richies in the story all played lacrosse. Let me tell you, though, in Texas, lacrosse is a different beast altogether. On the east coast, lacrosse is a game of skill and speed. In Texas, lacrosse is a game of skill, speed, and never-ending beat downs. You take a bunch of rag-tag guys at a 5A high school who don't want to be one of the thousands vying for a linebacker spot, and you get a lacrosse team. We all learned how to use that crazy stick to pass and catch, and the rest was details. In the east they start playing lacrosse as little kids, so when they get to high school passing and catching is second nature. In Texas, we make up for stick skills with our ability to unleash the fury on our opponents. I mean, really, who needs to know how to catch and throw when you can just beat someone until they drop the ball?
Our team didn't have a coach that worked at the school. He was a volunteer who just loved the game and wanted to be involved. I had two coaches during my high school years. The first was insane, the second was a marathoner. The first was a great motivator, with one liners like "Brandon, if that guy cuts around on you again, you fold him in half and send him home in a bag!!" The second was a little more timid, but could outdo us all. Trust me, having a marathoner as a conditioning coach is just asking for trouble. Here was a guy who, not only ran each drill with us, he could go on forever. Nothing sucks more than running two miles after practice and having your coach not break a sweat.
I played defense my last two years of high school. It was fun, mainly because it cut the field in half for me. The longest sprint I would be responsible for now was 55 yards. In a sport where the average player runs 4 miles a game, this was a big deal. Especially for someone as lazy as me. Our defense was made up of myself and a couple other guys who played for nothing more than the opportunity to be an old man and reminisce about the time they actually killed a man during a lacrosse game. One was Clint, the other was Patrick. . .I told you all that so I could tell you this.
Clint was larger than your average '4 miles a game' athlete. He had a mouth like Stern and drank more his senior year than I did all through college. He even played the tuba. . .how freakin perfect is that? Needless to say, Clint was a great guy. Him and I would ride together to away games, and he would always have one of his home speakers rigged into his truck so we could jam out on the way. I kid you not, it was a huge wooden speaker sitting in the middle of two 17 year olds flying down the highway blasting whatever 'motivational' song we could find.
Patrick was skinny, tall, and fast. He started playing lacrosse later than most of us, so his stick skills weren't all that great. But he made up for that with his psychological warfare. At the beginning of every game, he would tell the guy he was defending what a nice body he had, and go from there. I've never laughed so hard in my life. This would go on all game long, and guys would get so wierded out you could tell it affected their play.
All this is to wrap up one semi-funny event that happened at a tournament in College Station. We were staying on the second floor of a hotel where our rival high school was also staying. Bad idea. Long story short, all our scheming and plotting ended when Patrick and Clint ran out of the bathroom with cups full of something, shouting for us to open the door. So to anyone who played lacrosse for westlake high school in 1997, sorry for the cup 'o' crap on your doorstep.
Tuesday, December 21
I, Church
"It seems to me that God's richest blessing would be your own financial ruin.
That way you'd know what it means to rely on God alone."
-Matt Chandler-
That way you'd know what it means to rely on God alone."
-Matt Chandler-
On my mind lately has been this idea of God's blessing in our lives. The $100-haircut preacher reminds me that God wants me to have more money. . . .if only I'd send in a pledge offering. The best selling books convince me that if I just wait 30 days I'll be given what God has been wanting to give me all along. . . .he was just waiting for me to ask.
I wonder about our fluffy lives in America. We rattle off huge dollar amounts for holiday gifts, while an image of God starves to death. The man himself told us we'd always have the poor with us, but I'm sure he didn't mean that as justification.
Our plague is a nasty vile called sin. And don't get me wrong, sin isn't something you do and it's not something that can be stifled by following a set of rules. It's our disease. We live with it and we live in it. We are racked by how it eats at our consciences. Our thoughts are consumed by it. In some ways we are it. But our theology tells us not to use such words. Often we think we can pack it away and suffocate it by hiding it in a closet. But it eventually oozes out. We try to wash it off by entering a so-called sacred space and dancing for a time. But somewhere in our heads, the disease is just resting. We've tried filling our lives and our time with activities to keep our minds off our plague. But we've grown bored with ourselves. No activity has ever fully pleased, and no amount of pleasure has done anything but mask, for a time, our lonely hearts. And this leads us to our current scenario. Our place in history. . .
Our disease has allowed us to grow callused to a world outside our sterilized view of creation. Our Jesus-words are packaged like a big mac. Ready to be consumed and digested for a quick boost, but never life implicating. We dance on Sunday mornings and forget the steps during the week. This is how we can look upon the dying and feel no sorrow.
What would our lives look like if we began to realize God has not packaged himself into an hour on Sunday. What if we looked at each other and saw a person worth the very death of God? What if we got rid of the dance altogether? What would we become if we became the church?
Tuesday, December 14
Which God do you Love?
(As overheard at the Village Church)
-The Policeman God-
You know this God by the way he always has a clear answer for every life-situation. You can easily appease this God by following his rules. He's an easy God to love because he outlines life in a clear manner. We do all the rights and avoid all the wrongs. I'm going to do this this and this, I'm not going to do this this and this. This is a really safe God to love because we should always be able find somebody worse than us. His truths are summed up in neat little doctrines, packaged into clear-cut books with fancy titles like 'The Law of God' and 'Systematic Theology'. Every circumstance comes with a clear answer for what God would do, were he in the same situation, and we tally our answers on a scoresheet.
-The Church God-
This God is appeased through church attendance. He cares nothing for life change or life implication. He just needs butts in the pews on Sunday morning. This God is also easy to appease, as his outpourance of blessing corresponds directly with checks on the attendance sheets.
You know this God by the way he always has a clear answer for every life-situation. You can easily appease this God by following his rules. He's an easy God to love because he outlines life in a clear manner. We do all the rights and avoid all the wrongs. I'm going to do this this and this, I'm not going to do this this and this. This is a really safe God to love because we should always be able find somebody worse than us. His truths are summed up in neat little doctrines, packaged into clear-cut books with fancy titles like 'The Law of God' and 'Systematic Theology'. Every circumstance comes with a clear answer for what God would do, were he in the same situation, and we tally our answers on a scoresheet.
-The Church God-
This God is appeased through church attendance. He cares nothing for life change or life implication. He just needs butts in the pews on Sunday morning. This God is also easy to appease, as his outpourance of blessing corresponds directly with checks on the attendance sheets.
Friday, December 10
Keeping Score
So yesterday, at the request of my coaching wife, I ran the clock for a 5th and 6th grade basketball game. She kept appologizing for having to ask me, but I enjoyed it. It gave me a sense of power over the court that I'll never have while actually playing the game.
The best part about my time was having parents ask me over and over about the score. This particular league doesn't keep score, at least, on the scoreboard. They want the kids to focus on playing/learning the game, so they choose not to show the score with the time, yadda yadda yadda. Say what you will about kids and teaching fair play and all that jazz. It didn't bug me. But these parents were amazing. As a dad a few rows back yelled, "how are we supposed to know who wins if we don't keep score?" And the lady sitting directly behind me who was about to pounce on me for not putting her baby's two points on the board at the beginning of the game. I tried to play it off like I didn't know what had happened, just to be funny. (Which tends to happen when I forget that my life isn't a TV show)
Lady: Didn't we just score? (Loud enough to be sure I could hear, but not directed at me. Keep in mind she's sitting 2 feet behind me.)
Me: No response.
Lady: I think our team just scored.
Me: Nothing
Lady: Did anyone else see that? I think we just scored. What's wrong with the scoreboard?
Me: (Slowly turning around) Huh?
Lady: Didn't the visitors just score? I think we scored already.
Me: Oh yeah the visitors scored already. (Turning back to the game)
Lady: Well how come it's not on the scoreboard?
Me: (Turning around again) Well this league doesn't keep score.
Lady: They don't keep score? (With a look on her face like I told her I just ate a live puppy.)
Me: No, they don't. (turning back to the game)
The lady then spreads the news to the crowd, and you can hear the muffled sounds of parents unsure of how this atrocity could be. What's the point if you're not keeping score? Where's the motivation to play if there's no chance of dominating another person? (Say what you will about little kids and learning to win and lose. All that fair play talk. Whatever. I'm not taking a side, just making the observation.)
It reminded me of a camp moment several years ago when I was working with a family doing some group building activities. The Dad had a ring from A&M, and a sweatshirt to match. When our time was up on an activity, which they weren't able to accomplish, the Dad had this to say. (with a smile) "We failed. We didn't accomplish the objective. We failed." I promptly asked what kind of engineer he was, to which he responded with a puzzled look; "Civil. . .how'd you know I was an engineer."
Me: "Lucky guess."
The best part about my time was having parents ask me over and over about the score. This particular league doesn't keep score, at least, on the scoreboard. They want the kids to focus on playing/learning the game, so they choose not to show the score with the time, yadda yadda yadda. Say what you will about kids and teaching fair play and all that jazz. It didn't bug me. But these parents were amazing. As a dad a few rows back yelled, "how are we supposed to know who wins if we don't keep score?" And the lady sitting directly behind me who was about to pounce on me for not putting her baby's two points on the board at the beginning of the game. I tried to play it off like I didn't know what had happened, just to be funny. (Which tends to happen when I forget that my life isn't a TV show)
Lady: Didn't we just score? (Loud enough to be sure I could hear, but not directed at me. Keep in mind she's sitting 2 feet behind me.)
Me: No response.
Lady: I think our team just scored.
Me: Nothing
Lady: Did anyone else see that? I think we just scored. What's wrong with the scoreboard?
Me: (Slowly turning around) Huh?
Lady: Didn't the visitors just score? I think we scored already.
Me: Oh yeah the visitors scored already. (Turning back to the game)
Lady: Well how come it's not on the scoreboard?
Me: (Turning around again) Well this league doesn't keep score.
Lady: They don't keep score? (With a look on her face like I told her I just ate a live puppy.)
Me: No, they don't. (turning back to the game)
The lady then spreads the news to the crowd, and you can hear the muffled sounds of parents unsure of how this atrocity could be. What's the point if you're not keeping score? Where's the motivation to play if there's no chance of dominating another person? (Say what you will about little kids and learning to win and lose. All that fair play talk. Whatever. I'm not taking a side, just making the observation.)
It reminded me of a camp moment several years ago when I was working with a family doing some group building activities. The Dad had a ring from A&M, and a sweatshirt to match. When our time was up on an activity, which they weren't able to accomplish, the Dad had this to say. (with a smile) "We failed. We didn't accomplish the objective. We failed." I promptly asked what kind of engineer he was, to which he responded with a puzzled look; "Civil. . .how'd you know I was an engineer."
Me: "Lucky guess."
Friday, December 3
56 Years
I saw 56 years of marriage end on wednesday. . .
I guess it really ended on Saturday evening. But we celebrated the life wednesday. I sat in a pew with 30 other people and heard a persuasive speech about how a woman was in a better place. I saw pictures taken before color was invented.
I barely knew this woman. In fact I’m not sure I had ever talked with her. Nevertheless, she was a part of our community.
Wednesday I saw an old man who lived a life we only read about in history books. His wife has been slowly dying for quite some time now. He was in the pictures. His glasses are as thick as his skin is tough, but his blood pressure rivals most teenagers. He talks of years that most of us only imagine.
A part of me wants my wife to pass before I do so she never has to suffer that kind of loss. . . .but like Willie sings, there’s a jealous side of me that “hopes you outlive me, so I’m never alone.”
I guess it really ended on Saturday evening. But we celebrated the life wednesday. I sat in a pew with 30 other people and heard a persuasive speech about how a woman was in a better place. I saw pictures taken before color was invented.
I barely knew this woman. In fact I’m not sure I had ever talked with her. Nevertheless, she was a part of our community.
Wednesday I saw an old man who lived a life we only read about in history books. His wife has been slowly dying for quite some time now. He was in the pictures. His glasses are as thick as his skin is tough, but his blood pressure rivals most teenagers. He talks of years that most of us only imagine.
A part of me wants my wife to pass before I do so she never has to suffer that kind of loss. . . .but like Willie sings, there’s a jealous side of me that “hopes you outlive me, so I’m never alone.”
Wednesday, November 17
Canon A85
Just some pictures from inside our place of worship. Hey, that's what happens when you get a new camera.
NFL
Sarah and I were given Cowboys tickets for Monday Night's game. Let me just say that I love watching football live. Let me also say that the cowboys did not play football on monday night. I usually enjoy professional sports simply because I get to watch things that I can't do. I can't dunk or catch a 45 yard pass in double coverage. I can usually catch punts without dropping them and I can throw a football into the wide open arms of a 250 pound tight end, but apparently on Monday Night, the cowboys could do none of those things. There was some non-intentional humor, though. The guy sitting in front of us at the game was wearing this t-shirt.
Thursday, November 11
A Scandalous Grace
Yasser Arafat has died.
I've got to start by saying that Yasser Arafat was a villain who ushered modern terrorism into our world. He ordered suicide bombers in the form of men, women, and even children. In 1974 he had terrorists take 100 children hostage in a school, where they later murdered 21 of them with grenades and random gunfire. Yasser Arafat has died and the United States, among many other nations, will be sending a diplomat to the funeral. There would be no hangings as with the Nazi leaders. There would be no reminiscing of his crimes as if Osama Bin Laden had died. There will be a funeral and people will mourn. Countries will act political and send condolences.
With that in mind. . . .I stumbled onto this article, posted by Jeff Jacoby, a Boston Globe Columnist on November 11, 2004.
I've got to start by saying that Yasser Arafat was a villain who ushered modern terrorism into our world. He ordered suicide bombers in the form of men, women, and even children. In 1974 he had terrorists take 100 children hostage in a school, where they later murdered 21 of them with grenades and random gunfire. Yasser Arafat has died and the United States, among many other nations, will be sending a diplomat to the funeral. There would be no hangings as with the Nazi leaders. There would be no reminiscing of his crimes as if Osama Bin Laden had died. There will be a funeral and people will mourn. Countries will act political and send condolences.
With that in mind. . . .I stumbled onto this article, posted by Jeff Jacoby, a Boston Globe Columnist on November 11, 2004.
"In a better world, the PLO chief would have met his end on a gallows, hanged for mass murder much as the Nazi chiefs were hanged at Nuremberg. In a better world, the French president would not have paid a visit to the bedside of such a monster. In a better world, George Bush would not have said, on hearing the first reports that Arafat had died, "God bless his soul."God bless his soul? What a grotesque idea! Bless the soul of the man who brought modern terrorism to the world? Who sent his agents to slaughter athletes at the Olympics, blow airliners out of the sky, bomb schools and pizzerias, machine-gun passengers in airline terminals? Who lied, cheated, and stole without compunction? Who inculcated the vilest culture of Jew-hatred since the Third Reich? Human beings might stoop to bless a creature so evil -- as indeed Arafat was blessed, with money, deference, even a Nobel Prize -- but God, I am quite sure, will damn him for eternity."
That last sentence rings in my ears. Mainly because if I take the Bible as actual truth, then I know Yasser Arafat and I are exactly the same. It's not an easy thing to say now is it? It's unfair and unjust for God to look on us all as equals in the pool of sin. But the scandalous truth is just that. When God talks of a covering grace he isn't just talking about the good people. In fact, he's not talking about good people at all. He's talking about the darkest parts of you and me. God sees and knows that part. He's been there. And yet he remains to give pardon and peace.
I'm sure I've mowed over people in my life who are certain that "God....will damn him for eternity." I'm sure those words may have even been spoken aloud about me.
Praise God for scandalous grace.
That last sentence rings in my ears. Mainly because if I take the Bible as actual truth, then I know Yasser Arafat and I are exactly the same. It's not an easy thing to say now is it? It's unfair and unjust for God to look on us all as equals in the pool of sin. But the scandalous truth is just that. When God talks of a covering grace he isn't just talking about the good people. In fact, he's not talking about good people at all. He's talking about the darkest parts of you and me. God sees and knows that part. He's been there. And yet he remains to give pardon and peace.
I'm sure I've mowed over people in my life who are certain that "God....will damn him for eternity." I'm sure those words may have even been spoken aloud about me.
Praise God for scandalous grace.
Wednesday, November 3
That October day. . .
I've been out of the posting for awhile. . .only this time I have an excuse.
I got married on Oct. 23rd.
Sarah and I spent about a week in Chicago after the wedding. We saw some shows and enjoyed the cooler weather. Now we're in the middle of organizing life and answering all the "how's it feel" questions. I'm not sure I've answered any post-wedding questions honestly. Most of the time when someone smiles at me and asks "well how's it feel to be married!!!?!?!?" I just smile back and say "it feels great." But inside I just wonder how a person can honestly answer that question. How can the asker possibly know what Sarah and I have gone through in 7 years of knowing each other? Can they understand how we've loved, fought, wrestled and pained over our relationship long before we said 'I do'? Only now we wake up next to one another, and we share a closet. We usually just smile at each other at night because it feels like we're having a long-winded sleep-over.
So what's married life like? It's life spent unalone.
PS: There are several wedding photo albums floating around out there on yahoo. If you'd like to see some just let me know.
I got married on Oct. 23rd.
Sarah and I spent about a week in Chicago after the wedding. We saw some shows and enjoyed the cooler weather. Now we're in the middle of organizing life and answering all the "how's it feel" questions. I'm not sure I've answered any post-wedding questions honestly. Most of the time when someone smiles at me and asks "well how's it feel to be married!!!?!?!?" I just smile back and say "it feels great." But inside I just wonder how a person can honestly answer that question. How can the asker possibly know what Sarah and I have gone through in 7 years of knowing each other? Can they understand how we've loved, fought, wrestled and pained over our relationship long before we said 'I do'? Only now we wake up next to one another, and we share a closet. We usually just smile at each other at night because it feels like we're having a long-winded sleep-over.
So what's married life like? It's life spent unalone.
PS: There are several wedding photo albums floating around out there on yahoo. If you'd like to see some just let me know.
Tuesday, October 19
Suck it Neo
Yesterday on the sidelines of a fifth grade soccer game I was approached by a short prophet of sorts. (Otherwise known as a midfielder) He saw me from a distance and walked closer. When he was close enough he raised his head and asked "are you the one who's marrying coach martin?" I looked down and, as serious as I could, replied, "yes, I am the one."
Friday, October 15
Happenings
It's been awhile.
I'm getting married next weekend so it will probably be a couple weeks before I post again. Normally I only post when I have something to say, but today I wanted to just get something out to fill the space. So here goes. What follows will be a few random things that are taking up my time these days.
I'm getting married next weekend so it will probably be a couple weeks before I post again. Normally I only post when I have something to say, but today I wanted to just get something out to fill the space. So here goes. What follows will be a few random things that are taking up my time these days.
1. Check out this blog, Witt and Wisdom, . . .it never ceases to make me laugh. . . .out loud.
2. I've been into The Drudge Report for awhile now.
3. Fantasy Basketball is getting underway. I need to set my lineups soon for the drafts. I'll be on the road during one so I'm leaving my fate to the yahoo gods. Do the yahoo gods require sacrifice for appeasement? If so I'm ready to sell some organs for a good roster.
4. It seems we'll be playing some Halo at my bachelor party. (As we should be.) I've been trying to sharpen up what little skills I have for the endeavor. Zammit will be everyone's nemesis for the night. Unless we're on the same CTF team. In that case he'll be my savior.
5. I moved out of my apartment. I lived there for almost two years. I haven't lived in the same place for more than a semester since high school.
6. I bought a digital camera. If you know me, you know I get a little compulsive about buying potentially expensive things. When I got engaged I could have sold diamond rings with the knowledge I had gained. And now, I think I could do alright in the camera sales dept. at Best Buy. We chose the Canon A85 because of it's megapixel rating and the kind of memory it uses. It takes 4 megapixel pictures, which is great for personal use, but still allows you to store alot of pictures. And it uses compact flash memory, which is considerably cheaper then other kinds of storage.
2. I've been into The Drudge Report for awhile now.
3. Fantasy Basketball is getting underway. I need to set my lineups soon for the drafts. I'll be on the road during one so I'm leaving my fate to the yahoo gods. Do the yahoo gods require sacrifice for appeasement? If so I'm ready to sell some organs for a good roster.
4. It seems we'll be playing some Halo at my bachelor party. (As we should be.) I've been trying to sharpen up what little skills I have for the endeavor. Zammit will be everyone's nemesis for the night. Unless we're on the same CTF team. In that case he'll be my savior.
5. I moved out of my apartment. I lived there for almost two years. I haven't lived in the same place for more than a semester since high school.
6. I bought a digital camera. If you know me, you know I get a little compulsive about buying potentially expensive things. When I got engaged I could have sold diamond rings with the knowledge I had gained. And now, I think I could do alright in the camera sales dept. at Best Buy. We chose the Canon A85 because of it's megapixel rating and the kind of memory it uses. It takes 4 megapixel pictures, which is great for personal use, but still allows you to store alot of pictures. And it uses compact flash memory, which is considerably cheaper then other kinds of storage.
Friday, October 1
Tuesday, September 28
A Stern Report
Being thoroughly addicted to the AM Radio I feel I am as qualified as the next guy to make observations and recommendations concerning this media outlet. I've listened to plenty of hosts on the radio, but a couple weeks ago I realized I've ignored a rather large radio personality. Howard Stern. So I started tuning in to 105.3 FM in the mornings to listen to his show. After about two weeks I've come to some conclusions. . .
Howard Stern's morning talk show is horrible. I don't mean horrible like it offends me or I don't like the particular topics for the day or anything like that. I simply mean it's horrible. It's stupid. The jokes are never funny. Most of the guests act like they don't want to be there. And Howard doesn't really offer any big insight into anything worth talking about. The worst part of his show are the extras he has in the background. These guys add commentary to conversations, throwing in their two cents every now and then so they can be heard on the radio. None of it is ever funny, though. Even Howard doesn't laugh at the jokes these guys make. It reminds me of that one guy in the group who keeps adding to the conversation, but nothing he says is funny or even makes sense. (See the previous post about George Castanza for reference.)
I've listened to the show for about three hours total over the past couple weeks, knowing that friends of mine and I could do a better job. At least we'd be funny. And I guess that's the kicker. I don't mind if a talk radio show isn't funny if it's not supposed to be. Bill O'Reilly is never funny, but his show is interesting. Glenn Beck might make me laugh from time to time, but that's just an added bonus to his politically focused program. A show like Stern's is set up to be funny, because there's no real reason to listen except to be entertained. Stern, however, has few funny moments, and he reverts to sexual exploits whenever he knows he's failing. Now, like I said, it's not that the show offends me, or all his talk of sexual issues is inherently wrong. But he uses sex as a crutch to hold up his lousy show. It's like the kid who doesn't know any jokes, so he just makes fart noises as his last resort to get a laugh. (AKA, attention) (I think this also comes up with comedians who have to cuss every other word just to be funny. The most talented comedians I've ever seen don't have to cuss all the time because they're genuinely funny. They might cuss sometimes, but it's not their crutch. They don't have to pull laughs out by dropping f-bombs all over the place just to get attention.) Those things can be funny sometimes, but for my laugh you've got to have some talent. Throw me something witty or make a real joke. Don't just sit in the back row and yell out 'she said rod!' a hundred times.
Howard Stern's morning talk show is horrible. I don't mean horrible like it offends me or I don't like the particular topics for the day or anything like that. I simply mean it's horrible. It's stupid. The jokes are never funny. Most of the guests act like they don't want to be there. And Howard doesn't really offer any big insight into anything worth talking about. The worst part of his show are the extras he has in the background. These guys add commentary to conversations, throwing in their two cents every now and then so they can be heard on the radio. None of it is ever funny, though. Even Howard doesn't laugh at the jokes these guys make. It reminds me of that one guy in the group who keeps adding to the conversation, but nothing he says is funny or even makes sense. (See the previous post about George Castanza for reference.)
I've listened to the show for about three hours total over the past couple weeks, knowing that friends of mine and I could do a better job. At least we'd be funny. And I guess that's the kicker. I don't mind if a talk radio show isn't funny if it's not supposed to be. Bill O'Reilly is never funny, but his show is interesting. Glenn Beck might make me laugh from time to time, but that's just an added bonus to his politically focused program. A show like Stern's is set up to be funny, because there's no real reason to listen except to be entertained. Stern, however, has few funny moments, and he reverts to sexual exploits whenever he knows he's failing. Now, like I said, it's not that the show offends me, or all his talk of sexual issues is inherently wrong. But he uses sex as a crutch to hold up his lousy show. It's like the kid who doesn't know any jokes, so he just makes fart noises as his last resort to get a laugh. (AKA, attention) (I think this also comes up with comedians who have to cuss every other word just to be funny. The most talented comedians I've ever seen don't have to cuss all the time because they're genuinely funny. They might cuss sometimes, but it's not their crutch. They don't have to pull laughs out by dropping f-bombs all over the place just to get attention.) Those things can be funny sometimes, but for my laugh you've got to have some talent. Throw me something witty or make a real joke. Don't just sit in the back row and yell out 'she said rod!' a hundred times.
[Rant-Post Wrap-Up]
Howard Stern's radio program is a waste of time. Stick to local morning shows if you want to laugh. Stick to the AM radio if you want serious talk.
Howard Stern's radio program is a waste of time. Stick to local morning shows if you want to laugh. Stick to the AM radio if you want serious talk.
Friday, September 24
Seinfeld
So I'm obsessed with Seinfeld. Me and half the country.
I don't know what makes a show like Seinfeld so good. It's reminiscent of Cheers or The Cosby Show. But something about it still keeps me hooked. I think I've seen them all, but one can't be too sure, because I didn't watch the show religiously when it aired. I'm just a re-run junkey.
A talk radio personality said the show was such a hit because none of the characters were actually likeable except Jerry himself. As he put it, "we wouldn't want to actually hang out with any of the characters except Jerry. However, their presence with Jerry seems to work well."
Makes sense to me, except I think I could handle having Kramer as the next door neighbor. At least it would liven things up a bit. And George is insane, but we all need a George in the group. (If you don't know who the George is in your group. . . .then you are the George.)
So here's some good news for all the Seinfeld addicts like myself. Thanksgiving day, two nights after the release of the Seinfeld DVD's, "The Seinfeld Story, a one-hour retrospective of the show's early history hosted by Seinfeld, and including episode clips and fresh interviews with costars Jason Alexander , Michael Richards and Julia Louis-Dreyfus." Source
Sounds good to me. At least now I already know what I want for christmas.
I don't know what makes a show like Seinfeld so good. It's reminiscent of Cheers or The Cosby Show. But something about it still keeps me hooked. I think I've seen them all, but one can't be too sure, because I didn't watch the show religiously when it aired. I'm just a re-run junkey.
A talk radio personality said the show was such a hit because none of the characters were actually likeable except Jerry himself. As he put it, "we wouldn't want to actually hang out with any of the characters except Jerry. However, their presence with Jerry seems to work well."
Makes sense to me, except I think I could handle having Kramer as the next door neighbor. At least it would liven things up a bit. And George is insane, but we all need a George in the group. (If you don't know who the George is in your group. . . .then you are the George.)
So here's some good news for all the Seinfeld addicts like myself. Thanksgiving day, two nights after the release of the Seinfeld DVD's, "The Seinfeld Story, a one-hour retrospective of the show's early history hosted by Seinfeld, and including episode clips and fresh interviews with costars Jason Alexander , Michael Richards and Julia Louis-Dreyfus." Source
Sounds good to me. At least now I already know what I want for christmas.
Wednesday, September 15
The things that are mine
For me it's a blue comforter that fits a twin extra long bed. . . . .how 'bout you?
You know about twin extra long beds if you've been to college recently. Universities started getting the longer beds awhile back, and for anyone 6' or taller, they're wonderful. For once in my life I had a bed that my feet didn't hang off of while I slept. I put the comforter back in the closet the other day and it reminded me of my things. These aren't just things, mind you, but the things that have been with me.
You see, that's what happens with things. They're meaningless to others, but profound to you. You can see your things in pictures alongside you, or sometimes in memories. At times we forget our things, and how they've been with us, but we're reminded by a photo album or a passing comment. I bet my things are just as random as yours. A couch that's older then me; a quilt made by a family member; A picture that's hung in every house I've ever lived in. You see, that's what we forget about our things. We forget that they've been with us. We forget that they've gone with us. Sort of like how I forgot about my blue comforter that fits a twin extra long bed.
To think about where I've been with this simple thing of mine astounds me. It's almost painful to recall all the emotional memories all at once. You know that feeling? When the wash comes over you and you can remember with vivid detail emotions of the past. I can remember when. . .
You know about twin extra long beds if you've been to college recently. Universities started getting the longer beds awhile back, and for anyone 6' or taller, they're wonderful. For once in my life I had a bed that my feet didn't hang off of while I slept. I put the comforter back in the closet the other day and it reminded me of my things. These aren't just things, mind you, but the things that have been with me.
You see, that's what happens with things. They're meaningless to others, but profound to you. You can see your things in pictures alongside you, or sometimes in memories. At times we forget our things, and how they've been with us, but we're reminded by a photo album or a passing comment. I bet my things are just as random as yours. A couch that's older then me; a quilt made by a family member; A picture that's hung in every house I've ever lived in. You see, that's what we forget about our things. We forget that they've been with us. We forget that they've gone with us. Sort of like how I forgot about my blue comforter that fits a twin extra long bed.
To think about where I've been with this simple thing of mine astounds me. It's almost painful to recall all the emotional memories all at once. You know that feeling? When the wash comes over you and you can remember with vivid detail emotions of the past. I can remember when. . .
- I slept on the comforter my first night of college
- I went to sleep much to late on the comforter after long nights of doing nothing with friends but having the best times of my life.
- The comforter was in Minnesota with me in January when Thomas and I forgot to close our window at night, and I awoke under the comforter able to see my breath.
- I sought the mind of God while laying on the comforter after hearing of a tragic accident at Texas A&M.
- I spent countless nights wrestling with fear on the comforter during summers at Camp Lone Star.
- I've gone to sleep drunk on it.
- I've awoken drunk on it.
- I packed the comforter in a uhaul trailer and took it cross country when I was 18.
- I've rationalized skipping class because of the comforters warmth.
- I've laid under the comforter at night, fearing the next day.
- I've watched movies on the comforter when I should have been asleep.
- I had to sleep with that comforter the night I found out a friend of mine was getting divorced.
- I had to sleep with the comforter the summer I learned of my parents divorce.
- After the road trip that ended in a spectacular car wreck in the middle of the night in the middle of Wyoming, I couldn't wait to fall asleep on the comforter.
- I awoke on the comforter the morning of sept. 11, 2001 to the sound of my clockradio broadcasting the news.
When I look at the tattered blue comforter that fits a twin extra long bed I usually just see a crappy, old, cotton comforter. From time to time, though, I see countless other things.
Friday, September 10
You won't believe this.
So here's the deal. . . .
Things like this make me want to walk away from organized religion forever. I'm not sure I'd even offer a glance back as I headed out into the unknown.
Now, I told you all that so I could tell you this. . . .
"On another night Bob Lenz, director and founder of Life Promotions Inc. spoke to us. Bob Lenz is well known for his high involvement with ELCA ministries. He is NOT a Missouri Synod Lutheran, which is my first concern"
"Much of the hymnody were songs that are not in our Synodically adopted and approved hymnals (Worship Materials), which begged the question, why are we using them?"
"I did not see much value, if any in the presence of non-Lutheran outreaches and ministries, such as many of the Contemporary Worship bands, and Christian Music corporations, in addition to Life Promotions and other pan-Christian (and in some cases pan-Lutheran) groups"
"The sectionals, for the most part were also very helpful to many of them, granted Bob Lenz, David Benke and other individuals which are not necessarily in accord with historic Lutheranism spoke, but apart from those who were clearly divisive because of their pasts many youth found benefit in attending the sectionals."
Here are a few sites to draw your attention:
1. More of the sophomore at Concordia River Forest giving his insight at insyderhomielc.com
2. Hardcore conservative Lutheran atWorldmag (Check out an archived post about the Kieschnick thing here
I could care less about someone being Lutheran. I could care less if they join my church or add their name to some list. I don't care if someone knows that lutherans came from Germany, or who martin Luther is, or what the explanation of the third article of the apostles creed means. I don't care if they took the plastic cover off of their catechism, or if they know what happened at the council of Nicea. I don't care if they know why the pastor wears a collar, or why the hymnal is blue. I don't care if a high school kid at my church has ever seen a book of concord, or if he knows what my title 'DCE' means. What I do care about are people knowing the truth about the existence of God, and the way he did whatever it took to be in relationship with us. . . . . . . . . . . .oh yeah, hooray lutheranism.
-Peace-
Things like this make me want to walk away from organized religion forever. I'm not sure I'd even offer a glance back as I headed out into the unknown.
-Just so you know-
If you're affiliated with the lcms in any way, you might be aware of the divisions between the conservative and liberal thinkers in the chuch. (Sound familiar?) Whatever your thoughts are on the issue, here's a new chapter in the war. At the recent National Youth Gathering, the president of the synod, Gerald Kieschnick, gave a sermon during a worship service. Now, bear in mind, this was a worship service with 35,000+ people. The average age had to be somewhere around 16 or 17. During his sermon, President Kieschnick brought his wife and grandchildren onstage to help make a point about the importance of family. His wife quickly said she was excited to see all the youth from across the nation, and how each one of us would have a chance to be used by God to reach others in our lives. (or some version of that.)
Now, I told you all that so I could tell you this. . . .
There's a lot of people who are pretty upset about Kieschnick's actions over the past couple years. But now they're arguing this sermon at the youth gathering, saying he had a woman preach and how he wants to eventually ordain women in the synod. Yeah you heard me. People are upset that a pastor's wife was allowed to address a crowd of 35,000 youth and simply say she was proud of them.
I was at the national youth gathering, and believe me, I had my problems with some of what went on. None of which had to do with any women onstage, or the lack of readings taken from the book of concord. Check out some quotes taken from the first website I link at the bottom of the post. This guy is a sophomore at Concordia University in River Forest:
I was at the national youth gathering, and believe me, I had my problems with some of what went on. None of which had to do with any women onstage, or the lack of readings taken from the book of concord. Check out some quotes taken from the first website I link at the bottom of the post. This guy is a sophomore at Concordia University in River Forest:
"On another night Bob Lenz, director and founder of Life Promotions Inc. spoke to us. Bob Lenz is well known for his high involvement with ELCA ministries. He is NOT a Missouri Synod Lutheran, which is my first concern"
"Much of the hymnody were songs that are not in our Synodically adopted and approved hymnals (Worship Materials), which begged the question, why are we using them?"
"I did not see much value, if any in the presence of non-Lutheran outreaches and ministries, such as many of the Contemporary Worship bands, and Christian Music corporations, in addition to Life Promotions and other pan-Christian (and in some cases pan-Lutheran) groups"
"The sectionals, for the most part were also very helpful to many of them, granted Bob Lenz, David Benke and other individuals which are not necessarily in accord with historic Lutheranism spoke, but apart from those who were clearly divisive because of their pasts many youth found benefit in attending the sectionals."
Here are a few sites to draw your attention:
1. More of the sophomore at Concordia River Forest giving his insight at insyderhomielc.com
2. Hardcore conservative Lutheran atWorldmag (Check out an archived post about the Kieschnick thing here
I could care less about someone being Lutheran. I could care less if they join my church or add their name to some list. I don't care if someone knows that lutherans came from Germany, or who martin Luther is, or what the explanation of the third article of the apostles creed means. I don't care if they took the plastic cover off of their catechism, or if they know what happened at the council of Nicea. I don't care if they know why the pastor wears a collar, or why the hymnal is blue. I don't care if a high school kid at my church has ever seen a book of concord, or if he knows what my title 'DCE' means. What I do care about are people knowing the truth about the existence of God, and the way he did whatever it took to be in relationship with us. . . . . . . . . . . .oh yeah, hooray lutheranism.
-Peace-
Wednesday, September 1
Fun times
So I added a 'storied posts' section on the sidebar. Hopefully keep an easily accessible account of stories and favorite posts.
This Sunday a young girl from our congregation came up to me, as she so often does, to give me a hug and tell me all about her week. She's one of those innocent 5 year olds who could ramble on for hours but still manage to keep your undivided attention. My fiance was out of town that Sunday, and upon noticing, the young girl turned to me with a serious face and asked. . . ."Where's wife?"
This Sunday a young girl from our congregation came up to me, as she so often does, to give me a hug and tell me all about her week. She's one of those innocent 5 year olds who could ramble on for hours but still manage to keep your undivided attention. My fiance was out of town that Sunday, and upon noticing, the young girl turned to me with a serious face and asked. . . ."Where's wife?"
Friday, August 27
Community?
Checking out the Drudge Report I came across a link to the following story. Titled, Man Lay dead in bed for two years, the Toronto Star reports the story of a man who died in bed of apparent natural causes. Because all his bills were being paid by an automatic withdrawal, and a pension check was deposited monthly, no apartment management was aware of the mans death. Check the article here.
Which makes me think. . . . .
What does this say about our communal lives? A man died and no one knew for two years. His neighbors didn't question his absence. The postal service didn't ask about the filled mailbox. Family had lost contact years earlier.
From the article:
"Marcel Baril, executive director of the Family Centre in Winnipeg, called the situation bizarre and sad. "It's odd that we live in a society where technology can take care of our affairs like that, even if we passed away two years ago, and nobody's noticed.""
I think it's more an oddity that a man was living such a non-communal life that no one noticed his 2-year absence. How many people live lives similar to this man? What were his last days like? How long did he live in solitude? How many others walk the earth not knowing relationship?
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