Change of Seasons, Part 2

Too long I've wanted the world around me to change. Too long have I focused so much on the 'poo' around me over the years...so much that I've failed to deal with the 'poo' on the inside.

(If you don't think "poo" is a manly word, then you're a Nazi in semantics)

So much stress. So much worry. So much...dissatisfaction...with so many things: everything from train wrecks I've been a part of on my career path to the fact that I'm don't quite have the respect and influence among friends and others I've had the privilege of leading/working with over the years.

At times, I've raised my hands up in a frustrated prayer nearly screaming, "Why couldn't things have worked out differently? Why can't things be different now? Why am I not any different?"

In all my circumstances, have I grown? Have I become a better decision maker? Have I become a better Christ-follower?

Or am I still just the same old me. Or maybe I'm even worse than the same old me. More bitter. Less patient. More self-focused. I'm starting to have a problem with that possibility.

My passions are music, video games, movies, getting outdoors, mountain biking, hanging out with friends. Those are the first things that come to mind.

And even though I like these things, these are not the things that change my world. These are not the things that make a difference in...anything. Maybe they could be launch points into deep, influential friendships, but usually they're nothing more than diversions.

And as I list my passions, I can't help but notice that I haven't mentioned 2 very important things: God and my family.

When I think about them, I'm briefly like, "Oh, yeah. Duh. I care about those, too."

Do I? If so, am I letting that passion develop and override all the others?

What is it that drives me these days?

I blog and speak about mission all the time. I write exhaustive diatribes about worship and mission and purpose and harmony and other church-related things that seem to impart wisdom but, in reality, just add to the noise of so many opinions of what to do and how to do things of God.

But I do not live it. I could list the reasons why at length: A heart hardened after past years of burnout; a character flaw to try to keep things peaceful and harmonious even at the detriment of the very mission I do love so much (deep down); the simple fact that I spend so much of my time doing nothing than doing something.

My passion should be for Christ. I should have a never-die passion for Christ's lordship in my life and for the countless people who simply do not know Christ.

That passion ought to motivate every fiber of my being. That ought to drive me in the way I lead, the way I spend time with my friends, and the way I act when I'm home alone and no one is watching. It ought to drive my conversations about church or even casual 'hellos' exchanged with people I meet at EBgames as I'm purchasing yet another waste of time in a jewel case.

How can I make a difference if I'm not different? How can I lead others if Christ isn't leading me? How can I know which way to go if I'm not completely sold out to THE WAY?

If I'm part of Christ's body, then it's up to me to move. I am, by proxy, part of the vessel through whom Jesus continues to work in the world. I need to be about seeing Christ and being Christ.

In a book I'm reading, I read this profound passage...and it's been itching in my brain all morning:

"As truth becomes something other than truth without love, and vice verse, I cannot recognize where Christ is present and the Holy Spirit is at work unless I am willing to be truly present as Jesus to someone, with all the personal investment and vulnerability that implies. Think of what it cost Jesus to be present with me! Neither can I hope to truly be his presence, whether proclaiming the good news, modeling his love, or standing for truth, unless I recognize that he is already there and active--that he got there ahead of me--and I open myself in humility to behold him. My capactity to be the presence of Christ in the world is dependent upon my willingness to see his presence also.

If I seek to act as a member of the body of Christ, his proxy physical presence in the world, and eagerly seeek him as the one who has promised to be "in the midst," I am submitting myself to a course of spiritual discipline. A discipline is what is required of disciples: a deliberate choice, or series of choices, to follow and emulate the Master."

- Greg Paul, "God in the Alley"

What am I deliberate about when I wake up in the morning? On a good day, I do as little as what needs to be done to qualify as serving and accomplishing the tasks on my plate. On a bad day, I simply put it all off.

No more.

Jesus ought to be the center of my being. I ought to care about what he cares about. Do what he does. Feel what he feels. Live as he lived (and still lives). Spend my time as he would spend his time. Love who he loves. Forgive as he does.

I've got to remove the filters from my eyes that only let me see him where I want to see him. I've got to start seeing him where he is: In something as simple as a sunrise to something as challenging as that moment where some poor guy comes up to us at church begging for money for gas which is probably money for liquor.

I've got to remove the barriers of habit and attitude that also keep me from being Christ to people. I ought to have a servant heart. I ought to be connecting with people. I ought to be helping people. I ought to be following Christ, leading others to do the same. I even need to dare sharing the wounds of wounded people...on my knees...but never swerving from Christ's love for them.

Seeing Christ. Being Christ. Instead of only being and seeing me.

If I'm not seeing him, maybe I'm not being him. If I'm not being him, maybe I'm not seeing him.

Is Jesus my everything?

Is it possible that I can finally move forward? That I can finally drop to my knees again before God as the shame of my life is removed and the joy of his grace picks me up yet again and reminds me what I'm supposed to be?

My God!! I hope it is...

Change of seasons...

It's coming. By the end of the week, there should be a couple of days where we have highs in the 70s (maybe low 80s). In Indiana (where I'll be on Thurs-Fri), Highs will be in the 60s. Lows in the 30s at night.

It's about time.

I love autumn. It's invigorating. I can't wait until the mornings are cold and crisp, and the sun just warms up the day enough to be comfortable. I'll need to get outside. Dust off the mountain bike and ride.

Yes, I sound like Johnny Tree Hugger. Maybe I am.

...

As the season changes, I feel like I need to change some things. Something. Anything. I don't know what. Maybe spend less time at home and more time with friends. Engage in hobbies or other activities that don't involve sitting on my butt in front of the TV. More jam time on Jack's deck, maybe.

I want to clean up. My mind. My spiritual life. My physical fitness (or lack thereof). My attitudes.

Re-invigorate my life.

Drip Drip

Ah...joy.

All's quiet, when..."drip.. drip..." I notice rain coming in my front window.

In. Not out...from the top of a vinyl window...that doesn't open from the top.

Curiosity makes me check the attic, where I find water around some boards above the window in a 'nook' I can't even get to.

Lousy horizontal rain. Blowing up under my shingles, or the metal flashing on the roof, or the roof vent itself.

Whatever. It sucks. In a 2-year-old house.

Grr..

Passe

Click.

Read.

Over and over.

Have I changed the world?

No.

Words are words.

Only as wise as the person who uttered them.

I am not wise.

Do something else.

Something...more worthwhile.

Anything.

Click the X in the box in the upper right corner of your screen.

Click it now.

Why are you still here?

...the wind against my skin...

One thing I've tried to do more of lately is become consciously aware of moments that are conducive to worship...

Tonight I found one, as I was standing outside, talking with a friend, feeling the breeze blowing as I watched lightning from a storm way off in the distance. When I came inside, I found that I missed the breeze. I think I'll go back out in a minute...

A moment.

As has been the subject of much discussion this week: How can I lead others if I'm not worshipping myself?

I have to seek these moments out. Capitalize on them. Connect with God.

...

I had a thought this week about the powerful experiences I had as a teenager doing the worship thing at various youth camps. I always wondered why those experiences...the songs, the emotions, etc...never translated well back into my normal day to day experience. I think it's because those camps/mission trips/whatever...were week long sensory, serving, and 'focusing' experiences where the singing moments just curtailed the rest of the experience. To state it more clearly: When you're worshipping/serving/connecting with God and with friends throughout the week, then the gathering to do the singing thing builds on the God-experience that's ALREADY happening.

That's the key.

Worship begets worship.

Quesedilla Rellena...

That's what I ordered, anyway. What I didn't know is "Rellena" means "stomach-twisting-'fire-in-the-hole'-spawn-of-Satan's-colon." True, I have no idea what "rellena" really means, but I like my interpretation better... It's the spawn of hell submarine sandwich that Master Shake at in ATHF, only...Mexican.

It tasted good, but what a deception. Twelve hours later, I'm still feeling like I swallowed a lit firecracker...

And I'm out of Pepto.

Shizanizzled

"Our minds must be conflicting because you say plague of snakes and all I hear is Easter bunny, Easter bunny, Easter bunny." - Meatwad

After two consecutive weeks of having a house full of visiting family members, I'm ready to get back to normal.

Well, crap.

"Normal" sucks, too. In fact, there's just too much 'normal.'

These pretzels are making me very thirsty.

What do I want?

I want Stacey to come home and say "I love my job" every day.

I want the bank who controls my Visa account to call and say, "Hey, we're going to just cover the remaining balance on your bill."

I want weathermen on TV to giggle like little girls when a hurricane forms (heck, they practically do that anyway).

I want Publix to sell that KC Masterpiece honey mustard that you can't get anywhere anymore. And Tombstone BBQ chicken pizzas. Those, too.

I want the fan on my laptop to quit buzzing.

I want to play Halo 2 instead of watching Law and Order...again.

I want to surround myself with smily, happy people. I want to sing "kum-bay-freakin'-yah." Crap, I miss being naive...singing in the youth choir and actually liking it because I was attracted to Allison M. who also sang in the choir and my hormones convinced me that youth choir could be cool if you were there if SHE was there. Wow, that was a good summer...

*Seriously* (I guess)...I want to just wake up and be okay with the fact that the world is indeed crappy, but so what because there's not much I can do to change it. It's not delusion I want. It's altered perception. Drug-free altered perception.

Basically, all I care about is whether or not my faith, my friendships, my life mission, and hobbies (like my fetish for Sci-Fi shows) will remain intact EVEN if things seem to spiral out of control at times. THEN, life would be alright by me. After all, every war movie I've ever watched has taught me that the best relationships, understandings, etc. are formed under 'fire,' if you will, and that our greatest appreciation for life can occur in the midst of 'hell.'

Funny how delusion and faith can seem interchangeable from an outside perspective.

But I choose 'faith.' You can call it what you want.

Okay...that's it.

No more watching Aqua Teen Hunger Force then contemplating the meaning of life.


Frylock: "He needs his brain or else he's just going to float around saying, 'Do what now?'"
Meatwad: "Do what now?"

Random rhetoricals...

Why is it that when people have an issue with another person, they tell everyone but that person?

Why do people going the wrong way on a one-way street blow their horn at oncoming traffic?

Why do people live to work rather than work to live?

Why do we justify our own bad behaviors? Why do we feel compelled to flaunt our wrongs as 'right for me?'

Why are we so condemning of others' ways, methods, styles, personalities, haircuts, political opinions, sports team preferences, etc., etc.,...

Why is it so tempting to 'figure it all out'? Even when it's disguised as 'not figuring it out?' Kind of like..."I have no opinion" is still an opinion...

Why was "The Simpsons" harshly criticized as the poster-family for dysfunction in its early years, only to later become epitomized as a great Christian show on the cover of "Christianity Today?"

How do you connect with any given group of people with different ideas about how to do...anything? Is it possible?

Why are 'tolerant' people so intolerant of the intolerant?

Why do we try to answer rhetorical questions?

Escape

I need another escape. Already. My vacation was just over a month ago, but it seems like the distant past.

I don't feel stressed, really. I don't really feel depressed or tired. Things (lately, anyway) have been pretty good overall, except that my work load and my 'busy' level has gone up a lot.

But what is it? What makes me want to escape?

I think it's a feeling that I've been consumed. Eaten alive...maybe that's a better description.

The maggots of worry, past experiences, and even others' problems...gnawing away.

Oh, well...

I still think a lot of it has more to do with my state of mind where I'm at rather than just the locality of where I'm at. Wherever I go, there will be issues. Even in the midst of my vacation last month, I found myself surrounded by incredible devastation from last year's Ivan, which served as a grim reminder that even paradise can suck sometimes.

-Sigh- Reality check.

I need to worry less, bitch about things less, and get angry at the people I love less often.

I'm too short-fused. I need to give people more grace - give them the freedom to err and not have it upset me or worry me. Given certain family situations and past job experiences, this is so hard for me to do. But there just comes a time when it's got to be done, or I risk leading a life never satisfied with anyone but me...

And without others, my satisfaction with myself would simply be self-illusion.

I can't manage the world. I can't control what happens next. Life will spin around me, and I'm either braced for the impact of the next personal storm, or I'm trying to blow back the wind with my own breath. What a silly image.

I can snap...even yell at the next person who dares disturb the waters in the illusion of my still waters... But what good will that do? I never had control of it in the first place... Sure, I can set my alarm clock and have dominion over what time I get up in the morning, but that's about it. Heck, even that's illusion if I happen to wake up 10 minutes before it goes off. And after that, who knows what the day will bring. I may have it all mapped out, only to find that the road through the day is more winding than the straight path I'd hoped for.

Hmm... Am I upset about being consumed by daily grind of life and the daily 'plagues' of issues that oozes throughout our (or any) community? Or am I just upset that I'm not the one doing the consumption?

"We have only one thing to give up. Our dominion. We don't own the world. We're not kings yet. Not gods. Can we give that up? Too precious, all that control? Too tempting, being a god?" - Ethan Powell (Anthony Hopkins), Instinct.

Why...

- Why does baby spit up still look like baby formula? But even more, why did my roommates' "spit up" in college still kind of look like baby formula, but smell much worse?

- Why does spraying a wasp nest with water make wasps so angry?

- Why doesn't Cartoon Network show old G.I. Joe cartoons?

- Why, if I'm happy with my Taylor 410, do I want a 414 CE that costs a lot more?

- Why has the phrase "jenga, bitch" stuck in my head since Sunday, and I wasn't even there when it was first uttered? Why doesn't "Yahtzee, bitch" have the same 'feel?'

- Why is Charter's cable rate going up $10?

- Why is Hershey's caramel syrup called "Hershey's Dulce de Leche," instead of "Hershey's Caramel syrup?

- Why does 'Pet Stain and Odor Remover' smell as bad as the pet stain itself?

- Why do I still own a vehicle that only gets 11 mpg with $2.79 gas prices?

- Why don't I like beer? Why??

- Why don't I live in Key West?

- Why did that guy in grad school study Klingon along with Greek and Hebrew?

- Why is it?

Suburban Safari

Spending a week with my in-laws has proven to feel a bit like spending time photographing wild game in Kenya or something. Things are fine, even tranquil...so far. I just fear I'll get too close, and - RUN! - a lion or an elephant will suddenly charge and trample my scrawny butt.

"Eww...look what you stepped in," said one elephant to the other.

So far, so good. It's weird, though, 'cause I hold NO illusions to the real pain and dysfunction that has plagued our relationship with them over the years. I can't help but be thankful (very thankful) for the way the trip has played out so far, but I also have a huge amount of trepidation that there's disaster lurking under the surface. There always has been in the past.

Like walking on ice.

This week has also given me a chance to think about those around me who have to deal with dysfunctional situations in the same city, without the buffer of a 12-hour road trip between them. I have a newfound respect for those of you who deal with it and manage to at least feign sanity on a regular basis.

...

In other news:

Was I the only one who didn't know Food World closed and became another store? Southern Family Markets or something...

Weird... Sounds like a wholesome redneck bait shop. J/k.

It's G#, you twit

"It's a spider web and it's me in the middle."

What the hell is 'style', anyway? It's just opinion, right? It's as changeable as the weather...

I like to wear sandals. That's just my 'style.' Today, anyway. 10 years ago it was hiking boots and flannel shirts. I was Johnny Outdoors. Now I'm Johnny-has-no-style. Or is that a style in itself?

Either way, it sucks.

It all started with Van Halen. Then I really got my 80s on when I grew long hair and collected all the albums by Halen, Whitesnake, Ratt, Motley Crue, Metallica, Poison, Bon Jovi, and some off-band one-hit-wonder called Tyketto.

Embarrassed after a few years, I abandoned my cargo pants and metalhead youth for...Pearl Jam. That was it. Only Pearl Jam. And Stone Temple Pilots. Everyone else was Nirvana. I hated Nirvana. I can eat a lot of beans and fart out more aesthetic sounds.

Then I got holy, bought religious t-shirts, and sought after Third Day, Caedmon's Call, Jars of Clay, and...wait, that was all that was worth listening to. I made fun of the people who like the gay music of MWS and Amy Grant. Who writes a song called "Old Man's Rubble?" I mean really...

Then I got all folk-rock acoustic independent, and listened to people like David Wilcox, Ed Cash, and Bebo Norman. Ahhh...good, mellow times. Did I even wear clothes back then? Nothing like folk rock, cool weather, and a wine cooler to get your 'cheesy' on.

Today, my CD rack and my .mp3 collection is filled with ALL of this stuff. There's even soundtracks (orchestral scores) from various movies in there. And classical music.

Is post-metalhead-christian-rock-alternative-move-theme-folk-guitar-lover a style statement? How do I merge my love for Coldplay into this? Or Lifehouse? 3 Doors Down? Creed? I guess the former metalhead in me has found a new outlet with Alter Bridge. But how can I explain that I like that Alanis Morisette song called "Uninvited?" Or that Fiona Apple song called, "Criminal." Talk about dissonance. Imagine listening to a random-play playlist that follows "Everything" by Lifehouse with "Walk this Way" by Aerosmith AND Run DMC. I can relive all my styles at once in one hour.

We like what we like, I guess. And I like a little bit of everything. Which is good, I hope. I'd rather appreciate more and hate less.

Except for Amy Grant's music. "Old Man's Rubble????" Just what is old man's 'rubble' anyway?

I can almost guarantee that no one around me will say, "Hey, put in 5150. I need to get me my Halen fix." Amazing what 2 decades will do to conversations about music. Today, maybe someone will say, "Can you burn me the new Coldplay?" I might say, "No."

Ironically, I get up every Sunday morning and play...worship. And in spite of the original recordings, these songs have taken on their own style...because we add to it what they become. Eric's bass lines/modifications, Jeremy/J-mo/Kerry's drum-style, Kyle's...er...Steve-Vai-but-I-don't-know-this-song style, Jack's pseude-70s guitar style, and we have an interesting mosaic of styles merging into one sound...or noise. Maybe it's a toss-up.

Right now I'm listening to "Someone Special" by Poets of the Fall. Altogether different, imported... In a weird way, that band merges all the styles above on once CD...and does it well. Weird.

Oddly enough, I feel like playing guitar now.

"We can't bust heads like we used to. But we have our ways. One trick is to tell stories that don't go anywhere. Like the time I caught the ferry to Shelbyville. I needed a new heel for m'shoe. So I decided to go to Morganville, which is what they called Shelbyville in those days. So I tied an onion to my belt. Which was the style at the time. Now, to take the ferry cost a nickel, and in those days, nickels had pictures of bumblebees on 'em. Gimme five bees for a quarter, you'd say. Now where was I... oh yeah. The important thing was that I had an onion tied to my belt, which was the style at the time. You couldn't get white onions, because of the war. The only thing you could get was those big yellow ones..." - Grampa Simpson (The Simpsons)

Ready to crash

Man, it's been a long day. Got a lot of stuff done around the house getting ready for 'the arrival' (play Star Wars "Imperial March" theme here) of Stacey's parents...heh. I don't know if I'm excited about it or want to move to Tibet and become one of those monks who live up on the mountains and meditate all day in solitude...

It's a toss up.

Band practice tonight was LONG. Wow. I'm worn out. Took me forever to get all my crap hooked up for some reason tonight. It's my fault, bringing out the keyboard. But sheesh. Not quite a clockwork procedure yet. I bought a new direct box, a new mic cable, and still came up short on what I needed to make it work.

We hammered through the songs, maybe some of them in more detail about transitions and stuff than normal, but I hope it was worth it.

Lately, it's really been weighing on me about the responsibility of being a worship leader. That week after week, people look to me (and the band) to lead them in worship of God (at least the singing part of that). And there have been weeks I feel like I'm just going through the motions, more worried about transitions, chord changes, and the in-ear monitor mix than I am actually exalting God in my own heart. It's evident that most of our conversation sometimes even only evaluates worship from a standpoint of "How did it sound?" rather than "Was God worshipped?"

-sigh-

It's not about us. It's about Him. It's about the crowd that looks up to us. I find myself having to examine my impatience, my cynicism, and even my own temper in dealing with preparing for worship. I can get so caught up in trying to put it all together and keep it together, that I often get overwhelmed and find that I feel like I'm not worshipping on Sunday morning, but simply trying to make sure that others are. I guess I need to dump this baggage. Who cares if the crowd's not engaging it? Who cares if even the person onstage next to me isn't worshipping? Well, I do feel partly responsible since I'm supposed to be leading them. But I'm not leading them if I'm not worshipping myself...if I do that, I'm a fraud. So I've got to reprioritize.

I've never been a part of any band that didn't have problems with distraction, lack of preparation, conflict (to varying degrees), and, simply, a lack of 'passion' for God that's more than just going through the motions. In my own life, I go in and out of phases that contain these elements more often than I want to admit. There are times when I just want to scream about it...

But there are also times where it all clicks. And it's more than hitting the right notes. It's simply an awareness of God being in the room, even if the sound or tempo or the words on the screen were 'off.'

Worship can't be about us. It's not, "Look at ME, I'm in the band." It's not, "I can't hear myself loud enough in the monitor." It's not, "I'm too busy to practice."

It's something we ought to pour into - way beyond the singing. Can we/do we worship God beyond the walls of the church? I did today just listening to a song Eric clued me into by Lifehouse called, "Come Back Down." The moment caught me off guard, too. One minute I'm just listening to a cool song, the next I find myself spiritually engaged in the moment...letting the music and the words speak to my heart.

Isn't leading others in worship simply sharing an experience of worshipping God WITH others?

Man, it's so simple. Why complicate it?

Want to find this in your soup?

From the Decatur Daily:

A story with teeth

A lost dental partial at a Decatur buffet caused a stir.

Decatur police told Chris Paschenko that a man reported his partial lost or stolen, and that he watched as restaurant employees dug through their trash bins.

No one found the dental work, estimated to cost $800 — leaving many to wonder, "Where are the teeth?"

...

Ewwww....

"Tina, come and get some ham."

I feel like I slept in some 'post-car accident' posture last night. My head hurts. My neck hurts (and I can barely turn my head). On top of that, I've got some sinus congestion and even a bit of "ID" to go with it all...

Why, God, why??

Meanwhile, I'm supposed to be working on getting our house 'immaculate' for the coming of Stacey's parents (insert a Kelsey Grammar "Sideshow Bob" moaning sound here) AND getting ready for band practice tonight.

So, I think I'll be spending today walking around with that Napoleon Dynamite expression of anti-joy on my face, looking half asleep, and muttering "Ugh...idiot" under my breath every few minutes. If only I had the white-boy fro to go with the look...

And when Stacey comes home and asks how my day went, I'll retort, "Only the worst day of my life!!"

Maybe not.

Instead of blog-whining about how I feel, I guess I should be downstairs looking for some Aleve, eh?

Well, don't I feel like...

...a jerk. Apparently, the guy I mocked a couple of posts below for being on the tracks and getting hit by a train did not survive his injuries. That sucks. Maybe I need 'sensitivity training' or something.

So how does a man not notice an oncoming train? According to the article, there was "alcohol involved." Go figure... Like drinking and driving, drinking and 'walking on the tracks' does not mix, either.

He died oblivious, at least.

Story's almost as strange as that ambulance that got hit in Arab (?) last month when it pulled up to stop at train tracks, then moved forward just as the train entered the intersection. Both the EMTs in the ambulance were killed instantly...

Or that tractor trailer driver driving on McEntire (just across 24 from us) who thought he could beat a train while hauling a full load of bottled water. He survived, but the trailer got trashed, showering the area with water bottles...

Is it a North Alabama thing to not understand the danger in standing or driving in front of the massive tonnage of metal churning at you on a preset course? I promise you, it will not turn at the last second...

...

Okay, can I get off the train subject already?

Somebody save me...

I'm hiding out in the bonus room while much stamping (girly hobby) is happening with my wife and her sister downstairs. I was coping fine, watching TV, then I heard Stacey say something like, "I love this paper" with more passion than she usually says "I love..." about anything else. I remarked, "That has to be the girliest thing you've EVER done." She laughed, then replied, "But I do love this paper."

Now I'm up here, about to fire up Battlefield 2 on the PC to restore the testosterone/estrogen balance to the house.

Balance, Daniel-son...

---

Third Rock From the Sun:

[Harry is advising Dick on what it is to be 'manly']
Dick Solomon: What about scratching?
Harry Solomon: Outside the pants: manly.
Dick Solomon: What about inside the pants?
Harry Solomon: ...too manly.

Recap

Instead of a lengthy description of what I did this weekend, I'll just sum up:

FRIDAY: Bored. Still bored. I've already seen that movie 10 times.

SATURDAY: Who's idea was it to bathe the dogs? Oh, mine. Stacey, I know you're sick, but try not to throw up on me. Who drinks Diet Rite???

SUNDAY: Kerry, we're not Sister Luck. You don't have to speed up the temp to EVERY song. I'm in EBgames, and I'm not buying anything...wow. You come over to my house, slap your steak in the center of MY grill, eat before we do 'cause I have to wait on my steaks to cook on the cold side of the grill... Never touch another man's grill... Grrr... I hope it rains on your steak. Scrapbooking? Yikes...I'm out...

Get off the tracks, you idiot

"Man Struck By Train in Decatur"

That was a headline this morning in the Decatur Daily. Being the callous person I seem to have been of late, all I could think when I read the story was, "What is wrong with you that you can get hit by a train?" They're loud. In town, they move relatively slow. They're big, easy to see. Yet some poor soul managed to get hit by one. On foot. Fortunately, he's alive but in very critical condition...and - assuming he survives - once all the prayers and concern for his safety and health have passed, I'm sure he'll be the subject of a jab or two from friends (assuming he has them) like, "Hey, buddy, didn't you see that train coming?" Either that or he'll have a psychotic episode every time he hears a train horn in the distance...

Seriously, I'm not that callous. I hope the guy survives...I really do.

But maybe it's not so stupid of a thing to make fun of, though. Metaphorically, I've been hit by several 'trains' in my life that I should've seen coming. I have to laugh at my own stupidity at not being able to avoid them.

In so many circumstances, I'm the kind of person who just stands on the tracks praying the train won't hit me, then...BAM!...I'm a skid mark on the tracks. In my previous job, I held out until the last minute. "Get off the tracks!" people warned me (a lot of my friends/co-workers bailed out long before I did), but I held on tight, falsely convinced things would get better if I just stayed put and toughed it out. I used to think my friends admired my commitment and 'die-hard' tenacity to stick with it. But, in the end, my friends just stared on in disbelief wondering, "What the *&%$ is wrong with him?"

BLAM!

I got hit. And I felt so stupid when it happened. I'd seen the warning signs for years.

Oh, well. Now I'm here. Life is good. I could've done without the 3+ year time spent in spiritual traction thanks to the train impact, but oh well. Being a little more aware of trains than I used to be, I don't ignore the warning horn and the flashing red lights any more.

Remember the scene in "Fried Green Tomatoes" where that guy got killed on the tracks when his foot got caught between the rails? (Ironically, I've walked along those very tracks in Juliette, GA where that movie was filmed). Maybe I remember that scene because it was the closest thing to an 'action' sequence in that movie. Or remember the scene in "Stand By Me" where they were running from the train on the bridge? There's a moral here...one of those 'life lessons' that's so obvious we assume we know to follow it, but don't: "Don't play on the tracks."

NO FISHING

CRAP!!

Looks like Katrina killed all the fish...er...at least the fishing, anyway. I was really looking forward to that trip, since I've never been deep-sea fishing before. Oh, well...small complaint compared to the real complaints of people who suffered REAL problems at Katrina's hand...

On the bright side, I won't be spending the hundreds of dollars that trip would've cost at this time. Now I don't have to cancel that XBOX 360 order ;-).

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Chad sent me some aerial photos of his apartment complex and car (amazing what a satellite photo can reveal). Hopefully, it's in one piece, dry, and hasn't been broken into... I'll try to post a section of the picture soon...it's kinda cool...

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Sharonimo (Sharon, Stacey's sis...) arrived yesterday for her 3rd visit this year. Wow. Lots of driving time from Minnesota to here. Stacey's parents are due on the 9th, but their trip may be postponed if we're still having a gas shortage. Maybe that's a good thing...maybe not...either way, I'm actually looking forward to seeing them...especially so they can meet their grandchildren.

Speaking of gas shortages, why is "premium" all they have left at some stations. Okay, logic would say it's because people would prefer to buy the cheap gas first, and it just ran out. Duh.

But hear me out: The Cowboy's near me got a tanker truck of gas in last night, and...voila!...only a truckload of premium gas. Is it a conspiracy? Heh... People are desperate for gas...any gas...so I wonder if some of these oil companies are finding a loophole around price gouging laws...simply by delivering only premium to gas stations that have run out...

Hmmm...

Okay, sorry...it's late, I'm tired...and I was trying to think of something cool and thought-provoking to blog about, but it didn't work.

GOO!!!!

ZOWEEE!!

Okay, that's it...bedtime...before I get stupid. Crap. Too late.

Should we all just start riding bikes?

Just saw a news headline on Fox News (TV) that gas prices had risen to $6.00 a gallon (for premium) in some places in Atlanta. Holy crap.

My brother, in Charlotte, NC, said that gas stations near him were filled with 'football field length' lines of cars waiting to get gas before the prices went up.

Sharon, Stacey's sister, paid $3.00+ a gallon in Rochester, MN yesterday for gas (and, much to her dismay about the cost of the trip, she just left to drive down here...wow).

Where are all those hydrogen-powered and electric cars we've heard so much about over the years? No...the current hybrids don't count much, since everything I've read says they don't save you any money, though they are more environmentally friendly.

Maybe we're not too far away from a "Road Warrior" like future where gas is so rare, we divide into clans (tribes) and fight over it in a post-apocalyptic world.

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In other news, I also saw footage of the aftermath of a Katrina-spawned tornado that ripped up parts of Helen, GA (One of the E's favorite vacation spots). From what I could tell, it ripped through Helen, destroying a small amusement park, taking the second floor off of a hotel (off-white building with red doors), then damaging various businesses before it crossed the Chattahoochee River, took down some trees, then lifted off again. Sure, it pales in comparison to the damage along the coast, but it's amazing that Katrina could cause damage as far inland (and eastward) as Helen.