In a Few Days...

...I'll be on the road, heading down to East Tennessee for an unforgettable weekend.  My dear friend William is getting married in November and I am honored to be his best man.  As such, it falls on my shoulders to plan a bachelor party, which I have been doing for several months now.  The plans come to fruition this weekend.

A group of eight, friends from college and William's three brothers, are going white water rafting and camping.  I've never been rafting before, and the Ocoee River is supposed to be awesome.  In fact, the 1996 Summer Olympics held the rafting events at the Ocoee.  A few friends have been to the Ocoee and have told me how much fun it is, and others that have been rafting all assure me I'll have a blast.  And I know I will.

So I'm packing up my beat-up-but-beloved 1995 Honda Del Sol, taking the top off, loading some music, and hitting the road Friday afternoon.  My friend Adam is riding down with me.  The destination is about six hours away, but we're spending Friday night at William's house in Chattanooga, which is only an hour and a half from the river.  We'll get up early and hit the water for a few hours, then after we're all exhausted we'll head over into North Carolina and set up camp.

I grew up camping, and it's been a long time since I've gone.  There's just something about being out at night with a clear sky and billions of twinkling stars above.  When the air has cooled from the day and the darkness of night is all around.  Where the toads burp and the crickets chirp.  Where the glowing of the campfire is the only source of light other than the moon.  Ah how I've missed it.

And on Sunday, after cooking breakfast over the fire, Adam and I will hop back in the Del Sol and head home, back to my waiting wife and pups.  Truly, I'm very excited about the weekend.  Rafting will be enjoyable, and camping will be a sweet return to a long-lost love.  It will be good to hang out with old friends and remember times forgotten.  While I'm in no real need for a break, I'll gladly take one.

The Weekend Account of Firefly, Tennis, Beer, Church, Shoes, and Avatar

WARNING: A LONG POST BE AHEAD.

Keisha left for a week on Friday at noon o’clock, heading down to Daytona with her family while I stay here in beautiful, warm and humid Kentucky.  My friend Adam came over Friday afternoon and we hung out until last night.  It’s always enjoyable hanging out with friends you don’t see too often.

We drove up to Evansville on Friday night.  There are two nice used bookstores up there that I had a coupon for and wanted to look for some graphic novels.  Sadly, neither had what I was looking for, though I did get Keisha an Anne of Green Gables book for her collection.  When we were done with that we came back to Owensboro and stopped by the comic store, spending an hour basking in the glow of geekery.  I fully admit that I’m a geek.  I’m weird.  I’m odd.  But walking into the comic store on a Friday night when there are different role-playing games and Marvel Clicks events unfolding on the tables makes me feel a bit more normal than I normally do.  Though, honestly, I think I could relate to those people more so than I could to the other end of the social classes.  I’ve never really been one to fit into a clique.  Cliques are scary.  Anyway, I picked up the latest issue of Star Wars Legacy (#48) and we headed to Stewartland. 

At home I wanted Adam to watch Firefly, as he’d never seen it before and I just got my blu-ray in the mail.  So we started the ill-fated, beloved show that night and wound up staying awake until 3am watching Mal and the gang.  I still don’t understand why the show got the axe, just like Arrested Development, and I never will.  Nevertheless, Adam enjoyed it.  At some point Stella started yelping and barking in agony and it scared me pretty bad.  At first I thought Sofie had bit her, then we thought she might have been stung or bit by an insect.  She was limping and quite pitiful.  So I rubbed on her leg and she finally calmed down after several minutes of tenseness.

Saturday morning I woke up early and decided to play Heavy Rain while Adam slept.  I wound up beating the game and was mostly satisfied with my performance.  There are a few things I’d do differently, but overall the game was fun and the story was certainly intense.  The temperatures soared to the hundred degree mark and over with the heat index around lunch time, but that didn’t stop us from playing a little tennis and disc golf.  I think this was my first disc golf outing since January or February, and I pretty much sucked the entire course.  Still, it was fun.  We watched some more Firefly that evening and wound up talking about different things.  I had never had a beer or an ale before, and Adam wanted to take me to a bar and buy me one.  I agreed, but if I didn’t like it he was going to drink it.

The bar was nice.  Very clean.  Well-lit.  Excellent decor.  Beatles music was playing.  Charlie Chaplin was on the big screen.  He picked me out a drink (he wanted me to try Blue Moon, but the bar didn’t have it, so instead I got Indian Pale Ale) and the bartender put the foamy beverage in front of me.  I have to admit, the smell was much more pleasant than I was expecting, something akin to apple juice and white wine.  Unfortunately, the flavor tasted like drinking carbonated water, of which I am not a fan.  His drink also tasted like crap, though again the smell wasn’t that bad.  I sampled one other thing, some sort of really dark-like-Coke drink, and did not like it either.  I guess I’m just a wine and liquor kind of person if I’m to drink.  I wound up just drinking water, something much tastier than all that other junk I tried.

We were getting ready to leave when Adam struck up with a loner sitting beside him.  The man was from New Zealand, currently living in Kentucky working for a farm entrepreneur.  We wound up talking to this guy for three hours.  The man, Matthew, was hilarious.  We talked about the differences between New Zealand culture and American culture.  Differences between words we use.  Life in the country and life in the cities.  All in all the conversation was fun, funny, and pleasant.  Plus, I’d never met anyone from NZ before, so that was cool.

After midnight we headed home and finished off disc two of Firefly, finally falling asleep near 2am.  Stella had another incident like Friday night, though this time I was watching her when it happened.  The dogs were playing and Stella moved somehow that popped her knee out of place.  (Her other back knee used to do this, but it never pained her.)  I’m guessing this knee joint is tight and the thing is hurting her more than the other leg did.  I put the thing back in place and he immediately quit yelping, though she walked timidly.

Sunday morning Adam went to church with me.  Our normal pastor, Bro. James Dean, is gone on vacation right now, so the youth pastor led service.  Bro. Will preached a strong message on faith and church and the mediocrity of most American Christians.  It was an exceptional and challenging message.  At the end of the service he untied his shoes and placed them at the altar, telling the congregation that Christianity is a challenge to be active.  He was walking out without his shoes and invited the rest of the congregation to do the same.  The shoes would be collected and taken to the local shelter (which happens to be the one me and Alex lead worship at). 

How many pairs of shoes do we have and how many do we need?  How many people walk around without them, or with shoes that are held together by a thread?  It’s odd.  That morning, before church, I actually took the time to think about wearing my favorite New Balances or just some simple sandals.  I opted for the tennis shoes.  And then during the service I remember crossing my legs and thinking, I like these shoes.  They’re in good condition and look pretty good.  Then we get the challenge at the end of the service and I put my shoes at the altar.  Truly, how many pairs of shoes do I need?

Worship at the shelter was a bit disheartening.  No one showed up, music practice was rough (I forgot my thin pick and had to use some horrible thick thing), and it was hot.  They were thankful for the shoes, though.  Three garbage bags were collected.  That’s around 50 pairs of shoes.  In some ways that’s impressive, that fifty people would remove and give away their shoes for someone else who needs/wants them.  On the other hand, there were between 200-300 people at the service, and the 50 pairs is rather indicative of our good ole American Christian Culture.

Sunday night service was equally impressive and more moving.  Instead of a normal song-prayer-preach formulaic church service, we had a time of prayer and worship.  We played music continually, lifting up songs and praising God for His majesty.  We prayed with purpose, with passion, with determination, with faith.  I felt worship, in my heart.  It’s hard to play and pray and sing and keep an eye on the worship leader.  The service lasted around an hour, and I loved every minute of it.  To me, that is what church is.  Desiring God, longing to bring Him glory and honor, desperate to give Him praise.  He is worthy of it all, and I don’t think our church (or many others) truly worship Him on Sundays.  We get into familiar patterns and repeat familiar songs and pray familiar prayers.  This is not worship.

After the night service I went and ate with Alex and Rachael and then went home.  I was exhausted.  Staying up late like that is something I rarely do.  I’m usually in bed by eleven or midnight, so I guess I was just groggy over the lack of sleep.  Nevertheless, I had my final season of Avatar: The Last Airbender to start, and I couldn’t go to bed without watching at least one episode.  I popped in the DVD and snuggled up on the couch with the dogs.  Episode One, “The Awakening,” was great, and I’m eager to finish the series.  It’s definitely joined the ranks of being one of my favorite shows.  Hopefully the show ends on a positive note, but I’m expecting dark things for the future. 

So the weekend was long, but it was fun.  I was busy, but in a good way.  Throughout the days we worked several crossword puzzles, watched some good television, played some humid tennis, and glorified God.  All in all, a very good weekend but for one thing.

I miss Keisha.  Her absence hit me Saturday night when I lay down with the dogs.  I couldn’t begin to imagine not having her in my life.  I love her more than I love any other living person, and I know I don’t tell her enough.  She truly is my best friend, and I’m ready for her to get home again.  Of course, with her gone down to Florida, I can play all the video games I want to and not worry.  Woe is me.

You’ve Got Your Ball, You’ve Got Your Chain

Friday is truly an exceptional day.  Knowing that the weekend is only a few hours away somehow fills the soul with a type of lasting happiness that results in high productivity for a while, ultimately tapering off into ellipses.

Tied to me tight tie me up again.  The weekend, as always, promises to be stuffed full with activity.  Keisha and I are driving down to Chattanooga, TN, a 4-hr and time-zone-crossing drive, to see my best friend William and his fiancée Rachel.  They recently bought their first home, which we’ll hopefully be seeing.  We’re also going to the aquarium, so that should be fun, too.

Who’s got their claws in you my friend, into your heart I’ll beat again.  I really like Leonardo Dicaprio as an actor.  He’s phenomenal.  His characterizations are almost always perfect.  And I like a good thriller, especially one that promises to be a bit spooky.  Thus, I want to go see Shutter Island.  Soon, perhaps.  Very soon…

Sweet like candy to my soul.  Sweet you rock and sweet you roll.  I’ve always liked this song.  It’s filled with memorable lines and the music’s beautiful.  In high school I was a big Dave fan, but as I grew older I grew out of his music, namely the American Baby album.  But the dude can write some great songs, and the band has several gems that are worth a listen to.

Lost for you I’m so lost for you…  Major progress in the erosion control plans that I’ve been working on.  After lots of guesswork and self-doubt, I think I’ve finally produced something that looks right.

And you come crash into me.  I do have one question for you, friends.  Have you all received any errors when trying to comment on a post?  I’ve received a few messages from folks telling me they’ve had errors and I’m not really sure why.  I’ve not been tinkering around with HTML or anything.  I’ve not changed anything, actually.  My guess is that it’s some Google maintenance?  Anyway, just curious.

… In a boys dream.  I am supposed to get the PS3 in today.  I don’t see it arriving like it’s supposed to, but hey, FedEx could surprise me.  I’ve sold my 360 now, making back what it cost me for the whole bundle and even a little profit.  I may have a review of Oblivion up next week sometime.

Happy weekend, folks.  See ya where the streets have no names.

Rubber Cement

The fact that we're just soft tissue and blood speaks a lot about us.
If we were, for instance, a harder tissue, then we would be invincible.
At least physically.
If we had no need for blood, we would have no need for a heart,
and we would be invincible.
At least emotionally.
But the fact remains that we're simply breakable flesh and hearts.
To be human is to walk and fall, to profess and to be hurt.
Every person makes mistakes,
over and over again.
To live is to learn from these mistakes and continue on,
but it's also to make the same mistakes and continue on.
It's like there's some rubber cement on us and our problems,
and no matter how hard we pull, we can't break it.
But, with help, the glue will come off.
It may leave a slight residue, but it will no longer bind.
It may have a stink, and others may wrinkle their nose, but smile on.
Over and over again, we march.
Despite what others say, despite our mistakes, we press on.
It's to be human. To love,
it's to be human. To fail,
it's to be human.

And so we must stay true to ourselves and true to others,
especially during trials. Forgive. Love. Trust. Help.
God, who gives us our soft tissue and blood, does the same for us.
He forgives, and so must we.
Ourselves.
Others.
He loves, and so must we.
We must live this life our best, and that's all we can do.

i (a)

most of the time i like being out of the light. not, like, in shadow, but just out of the light. on the sidelines. for instance, when there's a crowd gathering for an open house... it's not that i don't want to be social, it's that i want to be myself. i'm not scared of the crowd. i'm open to the crowd's opinion. and e'en though i'm invited, it's almost as if i don't belong, yet i know that i do. it's the strange, awkwardness of being. it's the thought of meeting and feigning interest. it's the thought of actually staying focused. it's trying to get through the crap and the fake smiles that decorate everyone's faces and instead being you. but i think that i'll go anyway...