Shoot The Moose

Daytona 500 LiveBlog

2008-02-17T08:02:00.006-06:00

Come and join me for the Daytona 500 today at 1 PM CST!

Blogger, I Hardly Knew Ye

2007-01-12T09:33:00.000-06:00

This is it.

I'm moving, starting right now.

Here is my new home:

Shoot The Moose

My new feed . Please update (especially you, Brittney!)

I will be updating my Feedburner feed in a few minutes, if that's how you get my stuff.

It's been fun, Blogger. I'm ready for a change, though.

Eureka!

2007-01-11T13:05:00.000-06:00

I just had a geek epiphany! I've discovered a new scientific formula:

42bp + 60ozH2O = 40mTR / 15p

Which translates to this:

If one has a 42-year-old bladder and prostate, and is on a 60-ounces-of-water per day regimen, when one attempts to do a 40-minute treadmill session, he will have to stop every 15 minutes to go pee.

Don't ask me how I know.

Not Dead, Just Working

2007-01-11T08:30:00.000-06:00

My employer has decided that it would be a good idea if I did a little work. Well, actually, a LOT of work. I'm absolutely swamped. So, don't call all the hospitals looking for me, I'm just working.

One quick note: I MAY get to "blog" Nashville Star this year. Susie, my vocal soul-mate, has scored some reserved tickets for all the shows (besides tonight's premier). She sent out an email yesterday to all the X-Alt folks asking who wanted to come. Of course, with my weird hours, I didn't get the email till today. Lintilla said it would be OK with her if I went (I wish she could go but there's that whole babysitting thing).

Susie, if you're reading this, I WANT TO GO! Hopefully, all the seats aren't taken yet.

If Susie is nice enough to let me tag along, I'll post every Friday about anything that happens that you don't see on TV. And I'll have to DVR Ugly Betty, I guess.

Back to work!

Mind Your Manners

2007-01-10T12:11:00.000-06:00

Uh-oh.

I thought she was just kidding.

Lintilla has signed the kids up for "White Gloves and Party Manners". I don't know if I can handle the fallout. Here's a description of the class:

Since 2000, Davis and her partner, former fashion director Evelyn Moore, have been teaching the children’s manners class "White Gloves and Party Manners." Designed for groups of 5- to 8-year-olds and 9- to 12-year-olds, the course teaches kids — both boys and girls — etiquette essentials like how to perform at a wedding, how to be a good guest at someone’s house, the proper way to do introductions, the importance of handwritten thank-you cards, visual poise, how to carry yourself on the telephone, and good grooming.

Oh, Trillian will do just fine. She's the "aim to please" child, extremely teachable. Zaphod, well he's another story altogether. 10 years old, and he's already as snarky, cynical, and angst-ridden as any 16-year-old goth kid. He doesn't take well to doing things he enjoys, if a parent is making him do them. When James Dobson wrote "The Strong Willed Child", he had Zaphod in mind.

He's a good kid. He's smarter than I, and when he puts his mind to something, Heaven and Earth cannot stop him till he finishes his quest. But his role models are Happy Gilmore and Spongebob Squarepants. (That's another subject for another day: why all the protagonists on Nickelodean are perpetual smarta**es, and all the parents idiots?). He has a way of talking that many would consider "sassy" at the least. We've tried to curtail this with punishments, rewards, and all things in between, but the only thing that seems to work is taking away the TV. Then we have to deal with what seems to be a pitiful little heroin addict.

Anyway, I know this class will do him good. I come from a different circle of people than Lintilla, and when we first got married, I was completely lost in social situations. I had to watch her at dinner to figure out which fork to use. I still don't have the proper way to introduce people figured out yet.

So, I'm happy that the kids are doing this, even though it (IMHO) is a little costly. Did any of you send your kids to a class like this? Charm school, maybe?

When Lintilla was telling me about this, she said how she had spoken to the lady that runs the program, and tried to warn her about Zaphod's attitude.

"Oh, he'll come around", she said.

I could almost picture her rubbing her hands together, with a hearty Mwuahahaha!!!

I might need you to pray for Zaphod.

My Favorite Movie of All Time

2007-01-10T06:42:00.000-06:00

I have just as much testosterone as the next guy. Well, no I dont, but I DO have enough that I love movies with car chases and beautiful women and big explosions. I don't demand that a movie show me people that think and look like me, or reflect my politics. I don't neccessarily want them to "teach". I certainly don't want them to "preach". My only qualification when watching a film is that it take me somewhere, preferably a place I've never seen, ultimately a place I've never imagined.

That's the reason why I do not have a problem with movies that other people consider "dogs". Joe Versus the Volcano is a good example. That one was silly, but it touched me as well. Any story about shedding a crippling fear is OK in my book.

As a general rule, I do not like "quiet" movies (that darn testosterone again). That's why it might come as a surprise (even to me) that my two favorite films of all time are slow-paced, quiet movies.

My second favorite film is one you've probably never heard of, but should run out and rent as soon as you're done reading this. It's a Korean film (subtitled in the US) called "The Way Home". It's a story of redemption, which is always good, but it's also the best story about unconditional love I've ever seen. The lead character is extremely bratty and unlikeable, but if we look real hard we can see ourselves and our own attitudes in his behavior. Even though the director eventually gets us to the tear-jerk moment, she does so by a different route than most movies of the genre. It sneaks up on you: you don't even notice yourself crying until the credits roll. That's good filmmaking.

My favorite film of all time is the most poetic movie I've ever seen. There is a certain rhythm to every cut, angle, and piece of dialog. AND it's the only movie I've ever seen that tackles one of the really big themes that I've considered a truism in life: that life is a dance between Art and Science, between left brain and right brain, between Word and Spirit. Many people missed it because they saw the trailer and wrote it off as a kid's movie. My favorite film of all time is Searching For Bobby Fischer .

I'm sure you're familiar with the plot: (from imdb)

A prepubescent chess prodigy refuses to harden himself in order to become a champion like the famous but unlikable Bobby Fischer

Funny, that makes it sound like a sports movie, but it most certainly not. Yes, it chronicles Josh Waitzkin's rise to the top of the chess world, and there's an antagonist (sort of) in Jonathan Poe (another chess prodigy), but the REAL conflict is between Ben Kingsley's character (Bruce) and Laurence Fishburne's character (Vinnie). Bruce is a Grand Master, a student of the game, and a teacher. Vinnie also plays chess, but he's a (implied) homeless guy, a "Patzer", who plays speed chess for money in Washington Square.

Both are fascinated by, and try to influence young Josh Waitzkin. Bruce teaches him to "see" the board, analyze it, predict every move in an entire game. Vinnie, on the other hand, teaches Josh to "use his gut", not hold back in defensive measures, "Attack, attack attack!". Both are instrumental in his success. THIS is the part of the movie that is so magical to me. This is high philosophy, yet told in such a simple and endearing story.

We can look around the blog world and see a microcosim of this. We have analytical, overthinkers (I've got mail! What is the nature of mail? Is it a tool of the Patriarchy? But is it ok to open mail if it gives me pleasure?); we also have those that live life by the gut (just give me my damn mail, m*****f*****!).

I kid because I love, by the way.

In some ways, I'm not sure if any of you can relate to what I'm talking about. Sometimes I think I'm weird and nobody else sees life through the same prism I do. I am "brain ambidextrous", as it were. The Artistic Geek. The Scientific Songwriter. I take delight in seeing the dancing numbers in the computer programs I write, and I am fascinated by the mathematic perfection bubbling just below the surface in the songs I write and sing. I think that everyone should have a Plan, and that nobody should stick to it.

I feel that one of the secrets of success in any vocation (and in life) is to find both the art and science in it. Master the science, and let the art master you. Use your gut while implementing your Perfect Plan.

Anyway, I guess I've rambled too much. But if you've never seen "Searching For Bobby Fischer", do yourself a favor and rent it. See what I'm talking about.

Commute Conversation 1/8/2007

2007-01-09T08:03:00.000-06:00

Me: So, tell me everything you guys have for homework tonight.

Zaphod: Why do you have to be riding us about homework all the time?

Me: That's my job as a Daddy.

Zaphod: (to Trillian) I thought his job was "not listening".

Trillian: No, silly! That's his HUSBAND job!

NASCAR News / Notes 1

2007-01-09T06:33:00.000-06:00

I have a feeling many of you will read the title of this post and decide to move on; it's understandable, but IMHO you'll be missing something. I have many passions in life, and the most surprising to people who know me is NASCAR.

It's not THAT surprising when you take a closer look. Many do not know this, but NASCAR is not a "redneck" sport, it hasn't been for a long time. One look at the NASCAR Glossary Page will tell you that NASCAR is, in fact, a sport for engineers and tech geeks. Besides Dale Earnhardt, Jr, can you name anouther high-profile driver who has a defined southern accent? All the big stars sound like Jimmy Johnson and Jeff Gordon. The most redneck part of the sport these days is in the stands:

(sorry about that)

Anyway, here's what's happening:

First and foremost, I'd like to offer my condolences to the family of Bobby Hamilton. Not only was he a hometown boy, he was the epitome of class and humility. The way he built his teams, from the ground up, mainly for his son, should be an example to us all. RIP, Bobby.

Benny Parsons, one of my favorite announcers, is currently in the battle of his life against lung cancer. He was recently checked into intensive care. He is worthy of the prayers of us all.

Now, the lighter stuff:

NASCAR's governing body is apparently going to change the field of the "Chase" to 12. For those of you who don't know, the "Chase for the Cup" is the Nextel Cup's version of the playoffs. With 10 races to go in the season, the top 10 (soon to be 12) are locked into "the Chase" and their points are bunched much closer together to make the chase more exciting. First is still first, and 10th is still 10th, but everyone in The Chase has a chance with 10 races to go. Anyway, some of the drivers don't like this change. Pretty Boy Kasey Kahne:

"There was as much pressure for me going into the final five races as I've ever had," said Kahne, who was on the bubble going to Richmond despite having a series-high five wins. "It was exciting. I think 10 guys is pretty good. From sixth to probably 13th was pretty close. If you put more in, there won't be quite so much on the line."

I remember hearing the same things said when the NCAA tourney field was expanded to 64, the baseball playoffs were expanded, as well as the NFL. Having more teams "on the bubble" makes things more exciting for everybody, IMHO.

Now, dear readers, if you've made it this far, you get rewarded. I'll let you in on a full bore soap opera going on right now, worthy of a Lifetime Movie of the Week. It involves Dale Earnhardt, Jr - from now on refered to a "Junior" - and his stepmother Teresa. A little background: Junior is the son of NASCAR legend Dale Earnhardt, from his first marriage. Teresa married the Sr Earnhardt in 1982. To say that Jr's relationship with Teresa has always been rocky would be an understatement. I have no doubt at one point in his life, he called her "stepmonster".

Here's the deal: Teresa, upon the death of Earnhardt Sr, got the "empire". She is president and CEO of DEI (Dale Earnhardt Inc). Jr, in effect works for Teresa. I've always said: NEVER work with family! Junior's contract with his late father's company is up next year. Negotiations are ongoing. It ain't going so good. Here are some of the things Teresa and Jr have said publicly about the matter:

Teresa: "Right now the ball's in [Earnhardt's] court to decide on whether he wants to be a NASCAR driver or whether he wants to be a public personality."

Earnhardt takes the high road: "I don't know, she might have just been having a bad day or something when she said that. I really don't know where that was coming from. I didn't want to comment to the press. I really didn't appreciate it whether she was taken out of context or not."

But then he adds this:

"I don't want to get too personal. Teresa is my stepmother. I have a mother at home I have a very good relationship with. Mine and Teresa's relationship has always been very black and white, very strict and in your face. It's gotten no worse the last couple of years or last couple of months. The way I felt about her then is the way I feel about her now."

Yowee! Teresa has left the negotiating up to others, in order to get them moving along. Something tells me Jr won't talk if she's in the room. Anyway, to get an idea of what a big deal this is, you have to know how BIG Junior is. He's Micheal Jordan, Tiger Woods, Darek Jeter COMBINED, as far as popularity within the sport is concerned. In about half the races, over half the fans are there to Dale Jr. Talledega is a sea of red (his color). He is HUGE.

On the other hand, so is DEI. That means all the licensing for the "3" and "8" stuff you see everywhere. And Junior wants a piece, and that's where the biggest sticking point is in the negotiations. Besides, of course, his relationship with his step-mom.

Anyway, I'll fill you in as this develops (certainly they'll work it out - can you imagine Dale Earnhardt NOT driving for the company with his own name on it?)

One final thing: NASCAR is the only sport that STARTS the year with its Super Bowl. The Daytona 500 is only 40 days away!

In Which I Stir The Pot (a little)

2007-01-08T07:32:00.000-06:00

Just in case you try to avoid these things, this post is about the brouhaha over the weekend about a very rude comment at NIT. In case you were away this weekend, on Friday, Brittney posted a video of Pink Kitty dancing gracefully and beautifully. The very first comment was by some jackass who calls himself "wintermute":

Skip it, dudes. Another blogging whale.

This set off a firestorm, which I'm sure mr mute was hoping would happen. Everyone was appropriately outraged (Kat seemed to express what was closest to my feelings on the matter). I agreed with all.

Some chose to view the issue through the prism of gender politics, some with self-reflection, some with personal knowledge of the offender. There was also a great discussion at B's about whether Brittney should have deleted the comment. Me? I will tend to fall more along the "self-reflection" side, because that's what I do. I think my thoughts might be rather meandering on the subject, but please stick with me.

Let me preface by saying that Pink Kitty is hot. I hope saying so doesn't offend her, but I think it's important to this discussion. I can't fully say what I'd like to say about her, because I'm a happily married man. But since we're going to be discussing "attractive" and "unattractive", I have to let you know that, in my mind, Pink Kitty falls under the "attractive" column. That means that when I speak of "unattractive", I am NOT speaking of Pink Kitty, even though her video is what what sparked the whole discussion.

Being a Nashvillian, I was shocked by the brazen rudeness of the comment. Here in Music City, we have a certain way about us. In private, we can be just as abrupt, backbiting, snarky and mean as anyone else, but there is a certain orthodoxy here that demands civility in public. It's actually unique; I haven't seen the same attitude in cities like Philadelphia or Boston. In most other cities, you say what's on your mind. Not here, though.

Those kind of things just aren't said. And (here's where I get in trouble with Aunt B), especially to/about a woman. There, I said it. I know it's sexist, I know it's patronizing, but it's just the way I am. Insult the appearance of a man, and I'll write you off and buy the offended man a beer. Insult the appearance of a woman, and I'll make sure you never do it again. I ain't the most hardened physical specimen on earth, but somebody's gonna get hurt.

And isn't that the way with society overall? Anybody ever seen Beauty and the Geek? Do you think there's any chance in Hades they produce that show with nerdy, unattractive women? That just isn't done. There was a controversy when Ugly Betty first aired, mostly because the very subject of the show was (supposedly) a woman's unattractiveness. From what I've seen, it's OK to acknowledge publicly that a man isn't attractive, but never a woman. And, although I think it's the height of rudeness to negatively comment on anyone's appearance, I agree with the nuances of that mindset.

Wintermute, if you're reading this (something tells me you are, I'm guessing you love the attention), I have some advice for you. I've lived a few years now, so I think I've earned that right. I've collected a pretty large number of friends over the years; no matter what "the world" says to them, I make sure that they know they are safe and loved within the bounds of our friendship. No judgement, no qualifications. Each is a unique individual, worthy of love and friendship. For this, I have been blessed beyond measure with companionship and camaraderie.

I've also varied between being "attractive" and "unattractive". I'll be honest with you, attractive is a lot more fun. But let me tell you, "attractive" is fleeting. No matter how we work out, hire surgeons, eat right - time will have its way with us. There will come a day when "attractive" is beyond your grasp. This is the time when you cash in your chips, or go home. This is the time you will need the love of all those people you have encountered. You either held them close to your bosom, or you pushed them away. When "attractive" no longer works for you, this is when all those people will return the favor.

Choose wisely.

Tired Thoughts

2007-01-07T12:58:00.000-06:00

No, my thoughts aren't tired (although some might think so), I am. Yesterday was a whirlwind. I swear, I didn't stop moving yesterday. If I were the day planner type, this is what my day would have looked like (annotations to follow):

Get up.
Drink coffee, do finances.
Start the switch to Wordpress.*
Start the laundry**, make sure kids got breakfast.
Go with Zaphod to get our hair cut.***
Bring back lunch & eat.
Meet Busy Mom & Busy Girl!⁺⁺
Even though I hate it, get groceries at WalMart.
Put up groceries, leave for Susie's house. (Band-Mate and good friend)
Get to Susie's house, socialize a bit, then load up the foosball table she's giving us (thanks!).
Get the foosball table back home, everybody bathed, and head for Ashland City.
Get to A-town, try to find an Amsouth or Regions bank (there are none), go to an alternative, because I might be buying a lot of coffee later.
Go to Stratton's for dinner, eat about as healthy as possble there. Run into band leader there. Ask him to "stall" for us; we're going to be a little late.
Get to TBG, set up and soundcheck.
Run into Hutchmo and Mrs. Hutch! Captain, there be BLOGGERS here!⁺⁺⁺
Do first set. The sound is great tonight!⁺⁺⁺⁺
NEED WATER DURING BREAK!
Do long second set. The horn section rocks, considering how new they are!
Become a living version of "The Load Out".
Take the long way home because we're worried about fog on River Road.
To bed, to sleep the sleep of a man who just did all the above!

Funny, this was a LIGHT weekend!

____________
*I'm not quite ready to close things down here, because I'm not totally comfortable with WordPress yet. Probably next weekend.
**My life goes much easier when we do laundry in small doses throughout the week. Unfortunately, my life is very rarely easy.
***I'm in pre-mullet mode right now; just trying to grow it longer all over. This is by far the longest my hair has been after a (non-mullet) haircut.
⁺⁺Busy Mom is an awesome lady. She and Busy Girl were extremely gracious and generous. We caught each other when each of us were passing througn to other things. (She is BUSY Mom, after all). I can't wait to have more time to sit and talk a while with her, when an opportunity comes along.
⁺⁺⁺John, I still feel bad that they had a cover; I had previously posted that there was none. That was all TBG. The place has been on hard times lately, and they're just trying to stay afloat. Also, I should have warned you, we hawk our CDs like an infomercial. CD sales are how we cover operating expenses. :). Thanks for the kind words.
⁺⁺⁺⁺Dang, we need a permanent sound guy. We just sound SO much better when we aern't trying to adjust things on the stage. Anybody want to volunteer? it pays, well, nothing.

From Trillian

2007-01-07T12:36:00.000-06:00

...confidential to Busy Mom and Busy Girl:

You Have To Admit...

2007-01-05T14:50:00.000-06:00

...they get pretty creative on some of the Titans message boards.

Morior

2007-01-05T11:01:00.000-06:00

From the English to Latin Dictionary:

morior mori mortuus moriturus dep. [to die; to die away , wither away, decay].

Through some strange happenstance yesterday, I recalled a long-forgotten part of my life. The memory was sweet, but as I searched the web to catch up, my joy turned to meloncholy. Something from my youth that brought me much joy is fading away from the world, probably never to return.

High school, for me, was not the best of times. Being "the weird kid" - no, I take that back - the LEADER of the weird kids, made the high school experience one of constant fear and embarassment. There were very few bright spots for me at Hillwood High school between 1979-1982. Save two things.

The first was forensics. This was where I discovered my talent for over-the-top oratory, where I learned parlimentary procedure, where I honed my debating skills. I won't say I was "one of the group"; we had our share of Drama Club members who didn't have much love for those of us on the debate/student congress side. Nevertheless, it was something I was quite good at, even if I never felt like I belonged.

But then there was JCL. The Junior Classical League, for you youngin's.
Chances are, you don't know what JCL is/was. This from their website:

Formed in 1955, the Tennessee Junior Classical League and its parent organization, the NJCL, are non-profit fraternal organizations whose purpose is to promote appreciation and enthusiasm for studying Latin and the classical civilizations of Greece and Rome. Any junior high or high school student who is currently enrolled in Latin, Greek, or a classical humanities course may join TJCL and NJCL. Also any junior high or high school student who has completed two years of study in Latin or Greek is eligible

As if you didn't think I was geeky enough, I took four years of Latin in high school. My third year (at least safe within the walls of Latin class) was one of the sweetest times of my life. Two years of vocabulary and grammar had paid off. In 3rd year Latin, at least back then, you didn't have traditional classroom instruction. You spent the year translating Virgil's Aeneid. For those of you who don't know, the Aeneid was the Roman version of the Greco-centric Illiad. You know, Medusa, Cyclops and all that. This was the perfect exercise for my Tolkien-crazy brain.

Also, my Junior year, I had earned the right to join the Junior Classical league. It was so nice to be surrounded by other Latin geeks (there were even girls!). I was home, at ease, and amongst friends and equals. Remember how much that means at that age?

The entire year was spent preparing for the Tennessee state JCL convention. The convention wasn't just a gathering of Latin and Greek enthusiasts, it was a competition! We drilled in grammar (I still shudder when I hear the word "conjugate"), vocabulary, derivatives, Roman History (my favorite), Roman life, mythology, geography, reading comprehension, and the Academic Pentathlon, which was kind of a "greatest hits" of all of the others.

There was even athletic competition: Olympika! There were art contests, even a homemade chariot race! We all got to wear Togas or Tunics as well. Can you tell this is a very good memory for me?

When researching this post, I went to the site of the Tennessee Chapter of the Junior Classical League. I saw there some things that brought back wonderful memories, then I saw the list of participating schools. This made me very sad. It seems that it has dwindled down to a handful, most of them private or magnet schools. The majority of participating schools are in Memphis. Apparently, most of Nashville's public schools have stopped their JCL club sponsorship - and it gets even worse:

Many do not even teach Latin anymore.

Dang.

I feel like we're losing something precious, something that could be extremely valuable to our youth today. The study of Greek and Roman history, culture, and language is the study of the beginnings of all other western societies, including our own. After a year of Latin, my English grades shot up; after two, I got straight 'A's in English. I learned many terms used today in Law, medicine, government. Isn't that something of value?

In perusing their website, I see Hillwood has a "Peace Club". Great. Hippies at Hillwood. That's what we've come to, I guess. I realize the demographics of the school has changed greatly since 1982. But, in my opinion, to deny a child, any child, access to study the roots of western language and culture is a form of neglect. Besides, what are the geeks and nerds supposed to do with themselves now?

This just makes me sad.

UPDATE: For those of y'all who haven't seen this yet, check out this translation of "Baby Got Back" into Latin, then back into English. Hilarious!

Ugly Betty Is Back!

2007-01-05T08:10:00.000-06:00

Last night was the first new Ugly Betty episode in a long time. Let me just say, it was a surprising delight, and I absolutely LOVE the direction in which they are taking the show (if only temporarily).

This was a flashback show (there were only a few "set up" scenes at the beginning and end) - yet instead of taking the cheap way out and showing old footage, the producers wisely took this opportunity to fill in a few holes in the story.

We get answers to the whole "Ignatio can't get his medicine" storyline, and we also get a glimpse of what melted Betty's heart enough to make her open to getting back together with Walter. We also see the first meeting of Betty and Henry from Accounting (which was hilarious), and a side to the Bradford/Betty relationship that had never before been revealed.

If you remember, when the season "paused", Betty had pretty much gained everyone's acceptance and she was even looked up to. Well, it felt strange, but the flashback went back to Betty's first weeks at Mode (part of the storyline is her puny first paycheck). It seemed weird to see Amanda, Marc and Wilhemenia being mean to Betty and actively undermining her. Of course, what they are really trying to do is undermine Daniel.

There is a plot turn, (which is kind of unbelievable in my mind), where Daniel has been cut off from Bradford's money; his father is trying to teach him a lesson and he's broke. He has to entertain a prominent Japanese minimalist designer on his own dime (of which he only has about $370). Of course, the company pays for a limo and many bottles of champagne, so why Daniel has to pick up the dinner tab but not these other things is unexpained. But, it's a small thing.

We also learn that very few of the staff at Mode make very much money - one of the biggest "payouts" of working for Mode is the "swag": the designer clothes left over from old photo shoots. There's a wonderful free-for-all that takes place once they allow the staff into the "closet". This also set up the most touching scene in the episode.

Christina hid away a very in-demand Gucci bag, just for Betty. When she gives the bag to Betty, Christina tells her something along the lines of "I feel that fashion is good for the soul; it makes you feel more worthy as a person". Ashley Jensen, who plays Christina, played this scene so well, it melted my heart. You could tell she didn't quite believe what she was saying, yet she felt such friendship for Betty that she convinced herself it was true. I got all of this from a momentary "look" in Jension's eyes. Her acting was that good.

Very little of the home family in this episode, but we do get to meet the pharmacist (who in MUCH hotter than Gina Gambrero IMHO). Justin was great, as usual in his limited role.

How Betty saves the day was predictable, in a general way, but not in specifics. During the last commercial break, my family had a heated discussion about where they were taking the designer for dinner. In other words, they had us "hooked". Good writing, and the choice of restaurants turned out to be hilarious.

There was no parental advisory this week. Good work, writers!

Finding Truth, Beauty and Goodness in Ashland City?

2007-01-04T12:20:00.000-06:00

Slartibartfast Rocks!

No, really.

You don't have to take my word for it, though. Make the drive to Ashland City this Saturday night. Come to the Truth, Beauty and Goodness (TBG) Coffeehouse - it's right downtown across the street from the courthouse. My band (X-Alt!) will be on at 8pm.

And we'll rock your world.

We've got two hot mamas (just ask their kids), 4 classic rockers, a horn section, this lovely lady (who can sing circles around most of Nashville), and an exiled worship leader on the edge and with an attitude!

Ever heard a version of Sam and Dave's "Soothe Me" with 8-part harmony? You will.

TBG is also one of the coolest venues we play at. Even though it's a coffeehouse, don't let that fool you; there's a real stage, light system, sound system and a sound guy that knows what he's doing.

I'll tell you what, if any of my blogging friends show up, and if you can drink it, "The Moses" is on me (a HUGE triple espresso).

Kids are welcome.

There is no cover. Just come and be prepared to be blown away.

TBG COFFEE HOUSE
116 N. Main Street
Ashland City TN 37105

Quick Programming Note

2007-01-04T08:05:00.000-06:00

No, I don't mean:

for(int i=0;i>23;i++)
{
myString+=" Rinse,Repeat!"
}

I just wanted to let you know that this weekend, I'm going to try to become one of the cool kids and move this place over to Wordpress. Maybe it'll fix my feed woes. If I disappear, tell my wife I love her. Anybody want to give me a hint how to move my archives over there?

On a totally unrelated note, I recently learned one of those pieces of trivia that may only interest me: That little announcement they make during newscasts ("This portion of Channel 99 News is brought to you by...") is called a "billboard". Who knew?

Yipee!

2007-01-03T16:36:00.000-06:00

The new Bass Pro Shops catalog is here! (Fishing Edition) 790 slick color pages of outdoor goodness!

Reels, rods, lures (including the tastefully named BOOYAH Super Shad), tackle boxes, hooks developed using the most advance science, fish finders, camping equipment...

sigh. Better than Playboy.

The pontoon boat I want is only $19,495, if you want to add to the tip jar.*

Oh, such is life for a closet redneck...

(*That was a joke...I don't really have a tip jar.)

Teach Me About Architecture

2007-01-03T06:22:00.000-06:00

If there's one thing I've learned from having this blog it's that there's nothing I can't learn because I have this blog. Now I have reached the point where I must declare ignorance on a subject, and I need some of you good people to come to my rescue.

Last night, the Metro Council approved the 2nd reading of the proposed Westin Hotel on Lower Broadway. However, they put off the final vote (which is usually just a formality), to allow enough time for more discussion. And there has been a LOT of discussion thus far.

Most of the discussion has revolved around how this new high-rise would totally be different architecturally (is that a word?) from the surrounding buildings. From the Tennessean:

The idea upset historic preservationists, who said the building would be too big and too different from Lower Broadway's honky-tonks, shops and restaurants. The developer's plans to demolish much of the block of Broadway between Second and Third avenues (though it would preserve two buildings) also upset preservationists

Here is what I would like to know: what makes a building worthy of preservation? Is it strictly age? A certain style of architecture? If so, who gets to decide which style is worthy? I'll be honest, when I see the buildings that will be torn down, I just see ugly old buildings. Even if they were renovated, in my mind, they would be ugly, new buildings.

Over the last few years there has been a big stink about a proposed historic overlay in Sylvan Park. As I understand it, this kind of zoning requires homeowners to keep certain architectural elements in their homes when they renovate, in order to preserve the distinctive "look" of the neighborhood. Somebody correct me if I'm wrong on that.

Yet, just recently the Tennessean ran an article about people buying and tearing down homes in Hillwood/West Meade, and putting up McMansions. This is my neck of the woods. You would not believe some of the monstrocities that are going up just down the street from me.

So, why is 1920's architecture worthy of preservation, but 1960's/1970's is not? The Hillwood area has always had a certain "flavor" as well, and that's slowly going away. When we lost our house to a fire in 2002, when we rebuilt we chose to keep the exterior of the house exactly as it was when the house was originally built in 1960 - all the way down to the Crab Orchard stone. We considered it the "heritage" of the property (plus, it's like living in a little castle). Apparently, this design is not good enough for protection.

I am not necessarily advocating an historic overlay in West Meade (I'm not a big fan of telling a homeowner what they can do with their own property), I just don't get the aesthetics of it all. Somebody explain it to me. Why are some buildings worthy of protection, while others are not?

Building the Great Wal of Mart - A

2007-01-02T12:40:00.000-06:00

For some reason (maybe the fact that I'm altering my eating habits in an extreme way), I've been thinking a lot lately about grocery stores. I must say, I've been seriously considering my grocery options.

Some people are really looking forward to the new Charlotte Pike Super Target (I am, too), but I can tell you, I won't be getting groceries there, for the same reason I'm trying to stop getting them at the Super WalMart just down the road: it's more expensive.

Oh, the groceries themselves are a little cheaper. But this is how it goes every time:

The end of every grocery aisle connects with a houswares aisle. "Oh!", I say to myself, I could use another one of those plastic flatware seperators!" So, I go down the aisle, get the flatware seperator thingy, then continue to the end of the aisle so I can turn around. BUT, I run smack dab into the men's wear section. "Look!" I say to myself. "Napolean Dynamite underwear!"

I can't resist. I get the "Gosh!" underwear, and my line of sight runs smack dab into the photo department. I remember I need a battery for my camera, so I head over there (picking up something from the candy aisle on the way). I get the battery, and by Golly, I'm right next to the electronics department. I can't resist going to look at the HDTVs and other boy-toys, and I end up getting that Brad Paisley CD I've been longing for.

I exit electronics from the OTHER side, and what-do-you-know! There's the hardware section! I grab a new hammer and one of those toilet bowl floater things that Lintilla has been begging me to replace. Off to my left, I see the entrance to the lawn and garden department. I grab some of those clippers I've been wanting. The new plants are coming in, so I step into the "outside" section. Then, it hits me.

The last thing I remember, I was going to get some canned green beans. Now, somehow, I've ended up OUTSIDE, on the exact opposite end of the store I need to be in!.

On average, I spend $20-$50 more per grocery trip at WalMart than at Kroger. And that's with cheaper grocery prices!

Anyway, that's not what I came here to talk to you about. But you see, Superstores (WalMart and Target) are one distraction after another. I'll have to get to business in the next post.

My Wish For You

2007-01-02T06:25:00.000-06:00

In the coming year, I have but one wish for you, dear reader. I wish for 2007 to be a year without fear.

I don't mean the instictive kind that tells us to run away from an immediately dangerous situation. That's part of your physical makeup, and it's very necessary. No, what I pray remains far from you is what we otherwise call "worry".

When a door opens for you, I hope you do not agonize over the consequences. Just do it. Or don't. And don't look back.

When you look at your loved ones, I hope you enjoy the wonder of their company instead of fretting over what might happen to them. I pray you receive the kind of peace that allows you to create a safe environment for them to grow, without stifling that growth.

Try not to worry about your job (this is a big one for me). Be prepared just in case you DO suddenly find yourself unemployed, then forget about it and just do your job. There's nothing you can do about it anyway, besides keeping your resume up to date.

Do not worry if you have not yet found that "someone" you've been looking for. It gives you wrinkles and just makes your search harder. Just remember this: love is an active verb. It's something we do. If you forget about being loved, and just love, you will never lack for friends, lovers, and admirers. If you go through life with the attitude that love is something to be grasped at, you'll never know what it really is. Just love - everybody.

Don't sit there worrying over your stuff. You could lose it all through theft, fire, debt collectors, or overenthusiastic relatives. You know what? I've been on the other side. Stuff is overrated. Even if you lose everything (as I did), if you've practiced "loving everybody", it'll be all right. You will still find yourself with a roof over your head, food to eat, even a few toys for your children. Practicing active love is a great insurance policy.

Two great thinkers had something to say on this subject:

"Do not anticipate trouble, or worry about what may never happen. Keep in the sunlight." - Benjamin Franklin

"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life, or single cubit to his height?" - Jesus Christ (Matthew 6:25-27)

I pray you receive the grace to know what is correct, and the peace to do it without fear or regret.

2007 Resolution Number 3

2006-12-29T07:42:00.000-06:00

I am one of those people who, when setting out on a quest, needs a lodestar. I need a point of reference, something tangible to which I can turn.

Well, even though I know that the quickest way to hear the laughter of God is to tell Him your plans, I have some plans for the coming year nonetheless. I intend to lose weight and get in shape. But, I ask myself, what shall be my lodestar? What shall constantly be in front of me, a reminder of my quest, not to be discarded until the quest is complete?

I decided after watching one of my daughter's episodes of Hannah Montana. This year, I am going to shake things up. REALLY shake things up. I am going to do something, that for 99% of the world's population is unthinkable.

I have told a few, select friends; they recoiled in horror. The most common reaction has been along the lines of: "For the love of God, NO!" I have been reminded to think of the children. I have also been reminded that I will have a lot of trouble finding a professional who will be willing to perform the "procedure" I need to get started.

That's OK. If I can't find someone in Nashville, I'll go elsewhere. I'll even travel to Mexico if I have to. I'm a man on a mission. So, I'm sure you're asking, what on earth is it I am doing that has friends terrified, that will torture my children, that may even break up my marriage?

In 2007...

I am going to re-grow...

My mullet.

I want my mullet back. I'm tired of everyone telling me what's cool and uncool. God has blessed this 42-year-old with a full, bushy head of hair, still the original color, with a few random white hairs peppered in. I'm ready to re-live just a small portion of my youth - business in the front, party in the back. (I had a GREAT mullet. That's me, second from the right).

The mullet will serve three purposes:

1) It will be a constant, tangible reminder to me that I am on a mission; when I am weak, all I need to do is look in the mirror.
2) It will serve as a motivation for my family not to sabotage my efforts, as has been done in the past. The mullet stays until I reach my goals. It delights me to no end that my children are mortified.
3) It will be my own mini-mutiny. My mid-life crisis. My way of saying to the world, "I don't give a crap what you think!"

Brittney at Nashville is Talking, with her Waxing Vegan blog, has inspired me. I have created a new blog to chronicle my growing hair and shrinking waistline: Follow The Mullet. If you want to follow one man's struggle to regain his health and youth, check it out every now and then. My ultimate hope is to cut the back once I reach my goals, and donate the hair to Locks of Love or another such organization.

My family has been wondering why I skipped my last couple of haircuts. My hair is now to my collar in the back. I'm ready to trim the top/sides. Hopefully my usual barber will do it. I'll try to get pictures and post them at Follow The Mullet.

I may be insane, but I still wish all of you a happy and hairy 2007!

Mark Your Calendars

2006-12-28T13:44:00.000-06:00

This will be your first reminder, and probably not the last. If you want to see Slartibartfast as you've never seen him before, make the drive out to Ashland City on Saturday, January 6th to see X-Alt play at the Truth, Beauty, and Goodness Coffeehouse.

X-Alt almost never plays a non-mission related gig anymore, so this will be your only chance to see us for a while. Unless you are in prison, or a nursing home, or your church has booked us for a service.

It is my understanding that we'll have the horn section for this show. This will be quite a treat!

I know every Christian band says this, but you have to take my word for it: our show is an incredible musical experience, whether you are a Christian or not. Half the set is Staxx Records - inspired soul. (My parents raised me on Sam & Dave and Otis Redding). The other half is standard Christian rock (with a little bluegrass and Zydeco thrown in).

And it might be a bold claim, but I'll stack up our harmonies against ANYBODY's in Nashville (hey, Sista - why don't you come see us and you can report back whether I'm exaggerating or not?)

The show starts at 8:00 PM.

For those of you who met me at the blogger meat-up, that reserved dude hiding behind his wife will be nowhere to be found; I get pretty wild once I get on stage. Well, for an overweight 42-year-old Methodist. Come and see for yourself!

If you miss this one, your next chance may be the festivals / fairs in the summer and fall.

2007 Resolution Number 2 - Guess What?

2006-12-28T07:36:00.000-06:00

The 2nd New Year's resolution I am making is the most cliche of all: to lose my excess weight and get healthy. I seperated them in deference to Katherine Coble, who feels very strongly that the two are not neccessarily related. I remain undecided - my life experience tells me that there may not be a causal connection, but when you do the neccessary things to accomplish one, the other seems to fall into place.

Hoo-boy, this is going to be a long post.

In order for you to understand where I'm coming from, It's extremely important for me to take a step back and tell you my life's fitness history. For the first 22 or so years of my life, I was quite skinny. Not in a good way - most people (and my doctor) thought it was unhealthy. To give you some idea how skinny I was: in high school, I was a wrestler. I was in the lowest weight class, and I won half of my matches by default because the other school usually didn't have anyone small enough to fit into that class. I drank the weight-gain shakes, but it was to no avail. I only tell you this because I want you to know that I am NOT trying to reclaim the wonderfully healthy body of my youth, because it never existed.

Marriage cured me of my skinniness (it always does, doesn't it, men?). I gained steadily till I quit smoking in '92, then (here's another cliche) I sort-of ballooned. Since then, I have yo-yo'd, and I mean in an EXTREME way. I have lost (and gained back) over 50 pounds 3 different times. I am an expert at losing weight, and an absolute amateur at keeping it off.

The last time, I got serious. It was (surprise!) a New Year's resolution, and I studied every weight-loss and fitness book I could find. It pleased the engineer in me to discover at the heart of weight loss lies a simple logic formula:
If (calories eaten < calories burned) then weight loss occurs. It doesn't matter HOW you do it, but it all boils down to this formula. So, I took the reccomendations (2000 calories a day for a man my size), and ramped them down to 1400 a day, no exceptions. Then, I did something unconventional.

The Sirius Cybernetics Corporation (SCC) has exercize facilities in the basement of my building. There is a large room for exercize classes (provided by SCC at no charge), and a weight room. The women of SCC did the classes, and the men would pump iron and preen in the mirrored weight room. I had done my share of weight training since the previous fall (like a man, with no instruction or guidance).

After New Years, I walked into the weight room as usual, then kept going to the classroom. The men gave me funny looks as I passed by, but the women really did. I was invading their space, I guess. I think the instructor sensed this, and she proceeded to try to kill me with that day's toning workout. She almost did. Men are used to doing small amounts of reps with large weights; in women's toning classes, they do high reps with lower weights.

Dear. God. I was not prepared for how much I hurt the next day. But, to everyone's surprise, I came back for the next class. I wasn't going to let that woman defeat me! After a few more classes, she stopped trying to kill me. It was obvious that I wasn't going away (Later, we became good friends). The other women got used to me, and realized I wasn't there to ogle (that would have been quite embarrasing - I was in gym shorts and it was a long walk to the men's locker room).

It started getting easier, and after a few months, I added a couple of cardio classes to my weekly routine. Once again, it nearly killed me, but I came back time and again. I raised my calorie intake back to 2000 because I was burning an incredible amount by that time. The weight continued to peel off, and this time, something different happened. I had developed a real man's body for the first time in my life. In my late 30's, no less! The men in the weight room stopped laughing at me,and several joined me. We had learned that to get a decent man's body, you have to work out like a woman.

This was the glory time, just a few short years ago. It is amazing how differently everyone treats you when you're in shape. Spouses, family, co-workers, even strangers are nicer to you and treat you with more respect. My doctor said I had the resting heart rate of an Olympic athelete. I'm sure Lintilla thought that I was going through a mid-life crisis, and that a sportscar and affair couldn't be far behind. I got the sportscar, but I could never, ever betray Lintilla. It was enough for my ego just to, for once in my life, be considered attractive. (BTW, women, you aren't as discreet about these things as you think you are. There were a few times when I wanted to say "My eyes are up here!")

Well, I have rambled too long so I'll get back on point: later that year we went on vacation, and I got out of my good habits. Eventually, I gained back all the weight I had lost, and then some. I could have rejoined the classes at any time, but after gaining about 15 lbs, I felt like I had let the ladies in the class down. I didn't want them to see me in that shape. I figured I'd go back once I had lost some of the weight. I never did.

Then, this past year, I resolved to lose it again. I figured it would be a piece of cake, I had learned the secret, and it would just be a matter of doing what I did last time. But this time, I failed completely. I learned that there is a HUGE difference in metabolism between age 37 and age 42. I learned that it's not easy to eat healthy when you have two school-aged children whose friends "get happy meals all the time". I learned that I have filled the God-shaped hole in my soul with a lust for food.

There is an Arby's commercial where construction workers are sitting on a ledge, and a series of beautiful women pass by. The men say nothing. Then, a balding man, carrying an Arby's sack and drinking a shake passes by, and the construction workers start their catcalls. It's hilarious, and it rings true. This is where I am at in my life. Sometimes I think that if Shania Twain was standing naked before me, saying softly, "I want you!", I would be totally unaffected. UNLESS she was holding a supersized Big Mac combo - THAT might get my attention. I say I subscribe to Good housekeeping for the articles, but I swear, if they had a chocolate cake centerfold, I'd hide it under my bed. THAT's how much food has a hold of me right now.

I've gotten a little too personal, haven't I? I'm just so frustrated right now; I feel like Charlie Gordon in Flowers For Algernon, when he realized he was reverting back to his old self and would never recapture the glory he had most recently experienced. I really am stumped about my own behavior. Just like the apostle Paul, I know what is right, yet I don't do it. My problem is now spiritual, but it would feel funny to pray for a hot bod, and I'm a little too old for that kind of foolishness anyway.

But I do know this: you never see a fat 90 year old. So, I think I'm at a crossroads in my life. I either get this under control while I'm still young enough to do something about it, or I resolve myself to weight/age related illnesses for the next 20 years, followed by an early death. I do not fear death, but I do think it would be neat to dance at my grandchildren's weddings.

So I know what I must do. I must find a way to give food it's proper place in my life. I have to swallow my pride and get back into the toning and cardio classes. AND, most importantly, I need to finally, finally figure out a way to make it permanent. Of corse, saying it and doing it are two completely differnt things.

By the way: I had originally included in this post a swimsuit image of the "in shape" me, because I know those of you who have met me might find my description of this time unbelievable. I just can't bring myself to include it, though - I don't want to give the impression that I'm an egomanic. I'm really not. I just look at that image and have a hard time believing it's me, much less me from just a few years ago. But, if y'all demand proof, I'll post it. But understand, even though I'm quite proud of how I looked then, I'm not really sure I want a swimsuit photo of myself plastered all over the tubes. Would you?

How Bout a Few Photos?

2006-12-27T15:12:00.000-06:00

Here's some various and sundry images from the past couple of weeks. Click any to embiggen.

We were some of the very first people to cross the BRAND NEW I-10 bridge. Remember when it was destroyed by hurricane Ivan?

Not much to look at, but I can tell you, to northwest Floridians, it's a thing of beauty. Speaking of:

Trillian at the beach. Her brother:

What light beyond yonder window breaks? Here they are together, in their usual position:

I can tell you, right now, I'd rather be fishin'

Oh, and for those of you familiar with northwest Florida, a rare sight, indeed:

...a completely empty Fudpucker's. Only in December!

But enough about the beach, let's look at Christmas!

I think Santa did pretty good:

A good time was had by all. Even though we forgot to light the most important candle of all!

2007 Resolution Number 1 - This Blog

2006-12-27T08:27:00.000-06:00

I've always felt that NOT doing something just because it is popular or cliche is just as shallow and superficial as doing something just because everybody else is doing it. (Have you ever noticed that even non-conformists seem to have a dress-code?). As a result, I've never joined the "I don't do New Year's resolutions because I'm smarter than the unwashed masses" crowd. I do them, and I do so proudly. It doesn't matter that 90% of them fail. You can't score if you don't shoot the puck.

So, I'll be posting my resolutions for the new year, one per day. Today, I turn my attention to this blog. My resolution is two-fold.

First, I'm going to move my posting times to the nighttime or early morning. I post (and read other blogs) WAY too much on company time. Although I could rationalize it and say it isn't affecting my work, that doesn't make it right. The Sirius Cybernetics Corporation does not pay me to read and post on blogs. (I still reserve the right to do so on my lunch hour, though).

The second part of the resolution is more vague: I want to figure out just what it is I want Shoot The Moose to be, and make it that.

I feel as if I have been missing the mark. Don't ask me exactly what that means, I'm not sure myself. It's more of a feeling than anything. I'm still an amateur at this; I don't know what I'm doing half the time.

Have you ever been at a party and told what you thought was a funny joke, but it received no laughter, just uncomfortable stares? That's how I feel in the aftermath of about 50% of my posts. My attempts at humor seem to fall flat, as do my political posts. And I obviously broke some kind of unwritten rule earlier this year when I posted one of my own songs. No reaction but crickets. Being a musician, I can tell you that the absolute worst response to a creative endeavor is a non-response. I know the blog world works differently, but I haven't gotten used to that part yet.

During my break, I seriously considered shutting down Shoot The Moose altogether. Not in a hissy fit, taking my ball and going home kind of way, but in an admission that it had been a failed experiment. But I know I can't do that. I write. That's what I do, what I have done from a very early age. My preaching, songwriting, even my style of web programming, all of it springs from that creative writing spark that God put in my soul - it's who I am. Prose is what I do, and Shoot The Moose is, short of writing a book, the best outlet for my desire to write and write often.

Also, at the risk of giving myself a little too much importance, the composite of Nashville area blogs has a distinct lack of voices from southwest Davidson county. This is not to take anything away from Kerry, Lindsay, or Holiday Grinch, (or anyone else I've forgotten) but each of them has their own "thing", and I am the only person I know who is presumptuous enough to claim to be the "voice" of anyone, much less a part of town. So, I'll take that mantle till somebody kicks me off of it.

So my task in the coming year is to figure out what I do best, do that, and drop the rest. The shotgun approach isn't working anymore. I'll still post the Ugly Betty recap/reviews, because I enjoy writing them and almost nobody else does it. Daddyblogging seems to be my strong suit right now, so I'll continue doing that. Whenever I get the chance to write in the point of view of a southwest Nashvillian, I'll try to do that, just because I think SOMEBODY ought to. That means that evey now and then, I'll still write about politics, but hopefully from a previously unheard perspective. I'll continue to write theological posts also, because I love bouncing "deep thoughts" off of Kat.

Everything else is up for grabs. I may leave humor, sports, and overt politics to others, because they do it far better than I do. However, I could change my mind. Like I said, these are the initial impressions I've gotten from my soul-searching; it could turn out that I'm totally wrong.

But my mission in the coming year is to find a focus (or two or three) for this blog. Y'all will help me, right?

If You See My Brain...

2006-12-27T07:08:00.000-06:00

...can you please tell it to call me?

I haven't thought about "work things" in almost 2 weeks, and this blog hasn't gotten my attention for quite a few days. I guess I really put my heart and soul into doing Christmas.

Speaking of which, I've never seen so many perfect gifts for each member of the family since I was a child. The highlights:

I played it safe and got Lintilla chocolate, and a hefty gift card for Land's End. She had already gotten the Corelle wear she wanted, because she just couldn't wait.

Santa brought Trillian a metal detector, skate shoes (tennis shoes which have retractable wheels in them - she hasn't taken them off since she got them), and Nintendogs (more on that in a minute).

Zaphod is getting to that age where Santa gives him fewer gifts because his wish list is quite expensive. He got a digital camera, a NEW Nintendo DS (with a note asking him to give his old one to his sister), and another game.

Finally, I mostly got things for the kitchen. I've never understood why common knowledge say not to give anything to a woman that involves housework or cooking. I am the primary cook / house cleaner in our family, and I must tell you the kitchen gifts I got this year couldn't have been more perfect. I wasn't offended in the least. I've always wanted one of those "stick" mixers, and I finally got one! I also got a device called "The Kettle" which deep frys, steams, and slow cooks. That, combined with various and sundry kitchen gadgets and a few items of clothing, meant I got far more for Christmas than I deserved.

Back to the kids, I must say that Nintendogs may be one of the coolest things ever. The children won't even play with the REAL dog anymore!

All in all, we've had a wonderul time, both on our trip to Florida, and in celebrating Christmas. I hope y'all had as blessed of a time as we did.

Now, back to normal life!

Time's Running Out...

2006-12-22T20:54:00.000-06:00

...If you are going to rob my house. We'll be home tomorrow.

The pre-Christmas trip wrap up:

Our visit with the folks was wonderful. Mom even surprised us last night with Christmas dinner!

Dad got his own Christmas miracle of sorts - an offer for a real job doing real machinist work! He's been so disheartened being unable to do what he's best at for all these years. It's only part time, but he can now get his foot back in the door!

Prattville, AL reminds me of Smyrna.

I don't think I'll ever stay at another hotel chain besides Country Inn and Suites. Nobody comes close when it comes to comfort and service for the price.

Unfortunately, there's a mob of basketball players staying here tonight, and I think they're having practice in the room above ours.

If you decorate your house with kitschy beach-house kind of stuff like we do, there is no store like Bealls. Their home furnishings department is unlike any other.

Every town in the southeast has an all-Christmas station. Didn't our own 101.1 (when it was a Christian station) invent the concept?

This past year, I went fishing with my family a total of 6 times. Total fish caught: 0 . It was SOOO frustrating to actually see these huge fish swimming right next to the pier in Ft Walton Beach, with no bites whatsoever. So far, my kids associate fishing with standing and looking at water.

See y'all back in Nashville - have a Merry Christmas, or just enjoy yourselves with whatever you do!

I Am Filled With Unutterable Loathing

2006-12-22T12:47:00.000-06:00

So it has finally happened. The travesty known as the Duke Rape Case has been brought to a merciful end. I am so angry it is hard to type.

I know this case intimately from my hanging out at Free Republic. One of the long-time members was a court reporter from one of the nearby cities, and from time to time she'd post a little nugget of info (note: no laws were broken). Those who have followed closely know that it was a travesty from the beginning: the evidence didn't support the charges.

I am angry beyond words. Not at prosecutor Mike Nifong, I'll leave the outrage at him to others. Not at the accuser, what little I know about her just makes her pitiable. No, the object of my rage sits in the location of Duke University.

I am angry at Duke president Richard H Broadhead. Without hesitation he fired the coach and stopped the lacrosse program completely. I am angry at the so-called "Women's Study" types, who marched outside the homes of completely innocent people, plastering their pictures and names everywhere, yelling at them to "come clean". I am angry at Nancy Grace and her harping ninnies, who always assumed these boys were guilty. I am very angry at "the community" in Durham - I hope I never have to step foot in that God-Forsaken Hell-hole.

I don't care how brilliant my children are, Duke University will never see one cent from me. I'd rather my kids go to community college than go somewhere where they'll be left to twist in the wind at the first sign of racially and sexually loaded charges.

What we've had here, from the beginning, is To Kill a Mockingbird, in reverse. Had it gone to trial, I have no doubt that jury nullification would have happened against these "rich white boys", and they would have seen long jail sentences. (I have inside information about how things work in Durham - think Memphis Machine to a power of 1000). As it is, their lives are ruined. They will forever have the cloud over their heads of being accused of something incredibly heinous.

I swear, I now feel about Duke University almost exactly as TGW does about president Bush.

My new favorite basketball teams are Vanderbilt, and whoever is playing Duke.

My Christmas Tag

2006-12-22T09:20:00.000-06:00

Because I've been in a gloomy mood, and "need a little Christmas", I barge into the Christmas tag party from Amy via Katherine. Because it's all about meme:

Favorite Christmas Movie
The 1951 Alistair Sim version of "A Christmas Carol" called Scrooge. No other version comes close. Honorable mention: just last night, I saw Christmas with the Kranks. I liked it so much, I decided never to listen to reviews from the "cool" people I know - they don't know my tastes.

Favorite Christmas Song
Oh, Holy night. So much theology crammed into such a beautiful song. The two best versions I've ever heard were by family group The Martins and the understated version by Josh Groban. The song is VERY tempting to "over-sing", as evidenced by versions by Mariah Carey and Celine Dion. I prefer the focus to be on the song. Honorable mention: Witney Houston's version of Do You Hear What I Hear. I wish she's had a full choir backing her up, though.

Favorite Christmas Cookie
My daughter's sugar cookies. She has SUCH a big heart (she baked and sold so many last year that she was able to raise enough money for 100 "personal packs" for Katrina victims). She pours all of her heart into every cookie.

Favorite Christmas Gift Ever Received
The most excited I've ever been was the Christmas when I was 10 years old. I got a Toss-Across, Supertoe, and a Talking Monday Night Football game. But by far the greatest gift ever was the bag of toys given to us by our church after we lost everything in our house fire.

Least Favorite Thing about Christmas
That almost everyone gets stressed out because they set the bar too high for what they think Christmas should be.

Where Would your perfect Christmas be?
Some day before I die, I want to spend Christmas (with my family, of course) in some place "Bavarian". I don't know why I associate Christmas with Heidi country, but I do.

Favorite part of Christmas
Tie: The excitement of my children, and the way everyone at least TRIES to be nicer and more charitable.

Favorite Christmas decoration you own
We lost most in the fire, but Lintilla has some heirloom decorations that are over 50 years old.

When do you put up the tree?
If it's a "live tree" year, about two weeks before Christmas. If it's an artificial year, usually the first weekend in December.

Do you wear "holiday" sweaters/sweatshirts/T-shirts?
Lintilla does. Were I to do so, my brothers would beat me senseless.

I'm actually going to add one (can I do that?):

Open Presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas day?
We do both. Lintilla grew up in a Christmas Eve family, and I grew up in a Christmas Morning family. So, we split it up. It's a great testament to our marriage. The kids don't enjoy it as much as you'd think - they get clothes on Christmas Eve.

Anybody else want to take a shot at this?

Family Ties

2006-12-20T08:08:00.000-06:00

Didn't go fishing yesterday - we still had too much shopping to do. A few observations:

Big buffets are the only place I can go that I don't feel fat.

I really wish Middle Tennessee had a Barnhill's Buffet. It's like a poor man's Golden Corral, and the food is always great. As it stands, the nearest one is in Jackson, TN.

I think I'm at a crossroads in my life healthwise, I'll tell you more about it next week.

Pensacola feels like Murfreesboro to me.

Did you know that former WKRN personality Tom Siler is the weatherman at the local Pensacola TV station?

OK, a new direction:

Sorry I'm late with this (as you can tell I've been a little distracted down here). All day yesterday I had this post by Katherine Coble running through my mind. A small quote:

There are no holiday songs about a scared twelve-year-old girl having her innards ripped out while lying in the stink of a barn. There are no joyful songs about cutting (or biting) the cord and looking for water to wash the gunk from the crying baby, about wrapping him in an old towel and putting him in an overgrown dog dish.

The rest is along the same lines. I want to make it perfectly clear, I am not criticizing this line of thinking (especially when it comes to the later suffering of Christ) - I believe that it is good to fully appreciate the sacrifice our Lord made for each of us. Many times we mouth the words, but we do not really give much thought to what it really means.

But the implication of this kind of thinking is that the faith of most who call themselves Christian is superficial or weak. As a friend of mine once said, "A mile wide and an inch deep". BUT, I think the need for stark realism when thinking of the life of Jesus, while admirable, is not a requirement for true faith, and I'll tell you why. I'm sorry if some of you might have heard these arguments before. Let's go back a few steps first, shall we?

When Mel Gibson released The Passion of the Christ, I noticed something very strange: most Christians were moved in a life-changing way, most non-Christians found the movie to be absolutely horrible. I asked myself "why", and the answer I came up with surprised me: vacation slides.

(I'm old enough to remember slides, if video works better for you, use that analogy). Have you ever noticed how, when you're watching someone else's vacation slides (or videos), it's incredibly boring? But the people showing them are all starry eyed, like they are watching an Oscar caliber performance? Well, that's because THEY have an emotional connection to those images: they feature people they know and love, a special time, a special memory. To outsiders, there is no such connection.

So it was with The Passion. For Christians, it featured someone we knew, someone we spoke to every day, some one who knew us more intimately than anyone else. We felt every emotion exponentially because we were watching it happen to a member of the family. (the very HEAD of the family, indeed).

That leads us to the question at hand. Thinking of stark realism when thinking of the birth (or life) of Jesus is unthinkable, because you just don't do that with Family.

When you celebrate your mother's birthday, do you reflct on how she tore up your grandmother's innards? Do you think of your siblings having bowel movements? Do you let your thoughts dwell on the thought of your own parents having sex?

No - this is what we do with those we love - we idealise them, we never dwell on those base things that are part of being human. We acknowledge the humanity of our family, but by no means do we dwell on it. Certainly by the time they are gone and we remember them, the parts of their lives that make them fully human are long forgotten, only the idealised memories.

And this is a good thing.

So, although I sort of agree with Kat, I thought I'd offer an explaination why people do this with Jesus. I hope I've been coherent. I haven't yet had enough coffee.

About to leave to go Fishing in Fort Walton Beach - if there are any pictures, I'll post 'em later.

Wow. Wow. Wow.

2006-12-19T09:31:00.000-06:00

So the Zoo was nice (the weather was San Diego type perfect). My memories of the place must be failing me, because it seemed much more rundown than I remember. Perhaps they still haven't recovered from hurrican Ivan, but I have to say that Nashville's Zoo is MUCH nicer. They just have a few (important) animals we don't, like the lions, and gorillas. But, I'm convinced that with time, Nashville's will be one of the finest in the United States.

So, yesterday, the day is almost done, and we're wandering over to see one last area. We hear what sounds like a raspy voice saying "Wow. Wow. Wow." over and over. We turn the corner, and this is what we see:

Potentially NSFW?

Of course, "He" seemed oblivious to us ("she" seemed oblivious to "him"). Both Zaphod and Trillian seemed to understand what was going on - I advised Zaphod to tell them to get a room.

Forget the birds and the bees - we've got photographic evidence.

Anyway, we go fishing this afternoon - most likely the photos tomorrow will be a little more traditional.

Hope y'all are having a great week before Christmas!

The Incredible Lightness of Blogging

2006-12-18T09:11:00.000-06:00

Very light blogging for now. I debated in my mind whether to follow the example of Katherine Koble and not let anyone know that I am out of town - but since my house is guarded by an overenthusiastic paper-eating next-door golden retriever, I think things will be all right.

We're visiting my folks in the wonderful metropolis of Milton,Fla (home of Titan hero Cortland Finnegan). It's in the mid 70's and gorgeous, and we're going to the zoo. For those of you who don't know, the zoo in Gulf Breeze, FL, known simply as "The Zoo", is one of the coolest in the southeast. Unfortunately, right now, it's light years ahead of Nashville Zoo when it comes to the animals themselves.

I'll have oodles of photos tonight, and I'll post the best of them.

Oh, and if you ARE going to rob my house, I'm afraid you'll have to take all our old stuff. All the presents are down here. Just make sure to turn the lights off when you leave, and give Dooley (our next-door-dog) a treat.

See y'all tonight!

I'm Agin' It

2006-12-15T08:12:00.000-06:00

As much as I would have liked to wacth the rerun of 'The Box and The Bunny' episode of Ugly Betty, I came across something last night on Turner Classic Movies that I couldn't resist. I even made the kids watch, much to their initial chagrin. We watched the 1941 classic Seargent York.

I hadn't seen it since I was a kid; I had forgotten just what a well made film this was. Gary Cooper won an Oscar for his portrayal of one on Tennessee's favorite sons - he even beat out Orson Welles' performance in Citizen Kane. All I can say is that this movie stands the test of time. My kids wanted to stay up for the end (you have no idea what a big deal THAT is when dealing with an old, black and white movie). That's how good it is. A few observations:

We tend to think that attention to historical detail in film is a modern concept, invented by Ron Howard. Not so. This movie had so many things right, including the proper names of cities and towns, WW I battles, costumes. I loved how they had the old 19th century Baptist style church, with men on one side and women on the other (they even had seperate entrances). Then there's the dialect.

This brings up a stickler. The dialect in the movie, we modern city folk feel, HAS to be exaggerated. Well, I've run into a few old timers from Fentress County - it's not too far off. Certainly the pronounciation 'Agin' for against, and wide use of the phrase 'I reckon'.

The whole "folks on the bottom look down on folks at the top" thing is ABSOLUTELY accurate. In farming, it's much easier to work flat land (and bottom land is much more fertile). The poorer you were, the higher up in the hills you were.

At the beginning of the movie last night, I told Lintilla, "This would be a great movie to remake". After seeing the movie to its completion, I can say with all seriousness, that when it comes to remakes of Seargent York, I'm agin' it.

There is no way they couldn't mess it up. The first half of the movie is York's conversion to Christianity story. There is NO WAY they'd handle this part with the gentle care it was given in the first movie. Also, with today's mores, something tells me that no modern filmmaker is going to spend a full hour on a conversion story.

There's also no way a modern director could not inject the modern anti-war sentiment into the parts about York's status as a consciencious objector. They are two totally and completely different mindsets. I'd hate to see Alvin C York become Abbie Hoffman.

Then there's the battles themselves. I don't want to see this lovely story of conscience get overshadowed by a Spielberg-like quest for 'realism'. A side note for directors: We are not stupid. We know war is graphic, and tragic, and horrible, and 'All Hell'. You don't HAVE to show us. Please treat us like adults.

I can't tell you how weird it was, but at the end of the movie, starting with when York turned down Cordell Hull's offers for all that money, I was overcome with local pride. I related to York in so many ways: devotion to God over all else, a strong sense of duty, being a Tennesse boy and understanding the culture and history.

If you haven't seen this movie (even if you haven't seen it in a while), this is a great one to add to your collection. I know I'm going to.

Update One thing I forgot to mention. If you do happen to watch this movie, look closely at the character 'George' (Alvin's younger brother). He is played by Dickie Moore, and his resemblence to Leonardo DiCaprio is almost scary.

Attack of the Nerd Family

2006-12-14T16:12:00.000-06:00

Here is a brief recap of the conversation on our commute home today:

Trillian: Dad - that girl from the twelve days of Christmas had a stinkin' rich boyfriend.
Me: How do you mean?
T: Well, think about all the guy gave her. There were a total of 12 partridges in pear trees.
Me: well, yeah, but that wouldn't bee TOO expensive.
T: Yeah, but it keeps going up. He gave her 22 turtle doves. Starting on the second day, he gave her two for 11 days.
Zaphod: I wonder how much turtle doves cost in today's dollars...
T: It gets worse. I mean, he gave her FIVE golden rings, per day.
Me: Yeah, but he didn't start till the fifth day.
Zaphod: So, you'd use the distributed property. (12-4) * 5 .
T - That would be 40! Have you seen how much those things cost at Kay Jewelers?
Me - That's a stinkin' rich boyfriend. She must be a babe.

Trillian is now in her room working out the math on all the other gifts.

I'd ask her to go play with Barbies, but it wouldn't do any good.

Musings From the Halfway Point

2006-12-14T06:12:00.000-06:00

Funny thing about the title of this post. It's what I was going to name the book I was going to write when I turned 40, laying out what little wisdom I've gained about life in general. Alas, I never wrote that book. Life got in the way.

However, I'm not only at the halfway point in life, but also in child-rearing. Yes, yes, I KNOW that my children will remain my children throughout my life, and that in actuality I'm still only at the beginning. That may be so, but they'll (hopefully) only be under my roof another 10 or 11 years, and since they are 10 and almost 9, I think it's safe to call this the "halfway" point.

I have some advice for those who are expecting their first child, or those who one day want to have a child. I give this advice from many lessons learned the hard way. It may be the most important parenting advice you ever receive. It'll certainly save your sanity. It has two parts:

First, while Mom is still pregnant (or, if adopting, while you are preparing for the child to come home), get a copy of What To Expect the First Year. It will be there as a reference, and, trust me - there will be a time at 2 in the morning when you're frantically trying to figure out why baby is making that noise, or what that green stuff is coming out of her body. I can't tell you how many times our fears were allayed by "looking it up in The Book".

That being said, I advise you ignore half the book. Only take the reference parts to heart. Any time it seems to be "advocating", close the book, and DO NOT agonize over the fact that you are doing something differently.

This dovetails in nicely with the second part of my advice: Don't let ANYONE tell you how to raise your child. Follow your gut. People have been doing it for millennia, and amazingly for millennia children have been turning into normal adults.

Funny, this is the ONLY time you'll ever hear me preach moral relativism. When it comes to child rearing, I am a Unitarian Universalist. All roads lead to well-adjusted adults. Now, we all know there are certain things you shouldn't do as parents. Leaving your child in a hot car in August while you go into a bar to throw down a few is a good example. Chaining your child to a bed is not a good idea. Any kind of abuse is a definite no-no.

As an aside, don't let anyone else widen the definition of "abuse" for you. Use the law and your conscience as your guide. This is not anyone else's child.

"But", you might ask, "won't our child turn into a maladjusted nutbag?". It depends. If YOU are a maladjusted nutbag, chances are your child will be too, regardless of the parenting philosphy you employ.

You see, the white hairs on my head were not caused by my children. They were caused by my own agonizing over the fact that we were "doing it wrong", which seemed to be what everyone was telling us from every corner. We didn't "attach" - adoption puts you at a severe disadvantage in that department. They come to you "unattached". We [gasp] Ferberized, in fact we did it sooner than most parents. Both of our children were in "big beds" (we skipped toddler beds altogether) at 15 months. Don't worry, we put the mattress on the floor and had bed rails.

We [gasp] didn't breastfeed. Once again, adoption puts you at a disadvantage in that regard. Believe it or not, there were some people that actually advised us to do it anyway (there are ways to get a woman who was not pregnant to lactate that I had never heard of, and really freaked me out). We used soy food, which I've now learned should make my son gay. We had the kids on solid food before the recommended time. We let them go outside without shoes on.

We were criticized for not introducing enough Korean culture to them, and we were also criticized for introducing what little we did. We used strollers, "the leash", baby gates, and there were times we actually were sitting down and not holding them.

For those who are squeamish, please look away now.

We spanked.

Ok, the horror's over - you can look again.

We never spoke to the kids in "baby talk", we didn't do Baby Einstein (in fact, we let them listen to country music). We sat them in front of the television to watch Blues Clues while we did the dishes. We, to this day, allow them up to 3 hours of television/video games a night. We put a PC in each of their rooms. We let them eat fast food.

We send them to a Catholic school. This is criticized 1) because we are not Catholic, and 2) because we aren't exposing them to enough diversity. In fact, at my kid's school, they ARE the diversity. We don't have the kids in many extracurricular activies. They are each allowed 1 at a time, and it has to be their idea. Trillian takes piano lessons, and Zaphod plays baseball. I know the lack of extracurricular activities will prevent them from getting into Harvard, but I've never really liked Harvard anyway.

There's lot's more, but my hands are getting cramped. Trust me when I say, we are HORRIBLE parents, according to, well, almost everybody. We're pretty much doing, and have been from the beginning, everything wrong.

When pondering this sad state of affairs, I took some time to just sit back and examine my children. Granted, they are a little weird, but in a GOOD way. They are witty and resourceful. My son has a strong sense of morality, and my daughter has a strong sense of empathy. Yes, they appear to be highly intelligent - their standardized test scores are off the charts. But Lintilla and I try to keep it in perspective. We have a family motto: Smart is Easy. Good is Hard.

I went to hug Zaphod last night, and he shrinked away. A little voice inside my head said "See, you should have done attachment parenting! He's a few steps away from becoming a serial killer!" But then I took a step back. So, he shrinks away from signs of affection, expecially in public. He also likes pizza and booger jokes. These are what we call "normal", for a 10 year old boy.

There are two broad schools of thought when it comes to parenting. The first views the child as a building under construction, with the parent the architect. The child is molded, shaped, and built, all according to the will of the architect.

The other views the child as a flower, the parent as farmer. All the farmer can do is give the plant a good environment to grow. He cannot make it into something it is not. All he can do is watch it grow, keep it straight, and be proud of the bloom, whatever it looks like.

I choose the latter, but if you choose the former, I'm sure your kids will turn out just fine.

But the most important thing you can do as a parent is: find your path and follow it. Don't let anyone else tell you you're on the wrong path. Save yourself the grief. You'll need it when the kids become teenagers.

Proud Daddy

2006-12-13T14:13:00.000-06:00

I realize this jeapordizes my semi-anonymity, but when I saw this in the paper today, I just about burst with pride:

St. Bernard's Project Runway uses recycled items

My daughter not only won the third grade contest, but was chosen for the Davidson County contest (only 3 from the entire school had this honor).

If y'all could only see how talented and artistic Trillian is! When the contest is over, I'll photograph and post her entry (a statue of liberty outfit).

Go Trillian! Go Trillian!

Contains Some Adult Themes

2006-12-12T07:04:00.000-06:00

It says here in my copy of Blogging for Complete Morons* that

...Parent bloggers are allowed, in fact it's a requirement, to post complaints about how their kids are getting assigned too much homework in the months of September and October. Posts of this nature at any other time are considered bad form.

Any time is a good time to post about the dearth of non-skanky clothes for tween girls, however.

Well, dang, I'd really like to complain about Zaphod's 4-5 hours of homework a night, but it does seem kind of silly to do it in December. But watching Zaphod struggle with a particular book report this week, something else occurred to me; something that would be appropriate any time of year.

Zaphod is an accelerated reader. He's in 4th grade and reads at an 8th grade level. I'm not telling you this in a "My Child is an Honor Student at..." way; this fact is very important to what I'm trying to say. Anyway, St Bob's Academy really pushes their accelerated reading program, and for that I'm thankful.

However, this brings up an interesting problem. This year we have been putting middle school / high school themes and thoughts into a 10-year-old mind. He just finished doing a report on an old book called "The Machine Gunners". He's a 10 year old boy, of course he was attracted to the subject matter. When I asked him what he thought of the book, he said "It was depressing". I can't tell you how weird it is to hear your 10 year old son say those words.

Looking through the book, I realized what he was talking about. It was written in 1975 (and was there ANYTHING written in the mid-70's that wasn't depressing?). This book had it all: death, betrayal, personal agony. I thought to myself, isn't it a little soon to be introducting this kind of stuff?. But alas, we have no choice.

Think back on the books and short stories they had you read in middle school and early high school. I don't know about you, but the assignments I had were ALL DEPRESSING! The Lottery, The Scarlet Letter, The Stone Boy, The Grapes of Wrath (and for some reason, they all had titles that started with 'The')

It's a wonder I didn't slit my wrists in 8th grade.

Now, here's an intersting chicken/egg thought. We all know that kids in 7th,8th,9th and 10th grades are filled with angst and are generally sullen, meloncholy creatures. How much of this attitude is actually caused by their school reading lists?

*Blogging for Complete Morons is not a real book.

Caption Time

2006-12-11T18:12:00.000-06:00

Found this little nugget while searching for old photos for the grandparents. For some reason it tickles me silly. Trillian's look is almost as funny as Zaphod's.

Click to embiggen

I Think I Just Lived Through a Cliche

2006-12-11T12:45:00.000-06:00

I'm going to be very careful about this, since I recently learned everything I ever wanted to know about libel law. But if this didn't really happen, you'd think Bill O'Rielly made it up.

As most of you know, I play in in a Christian band. We market ourselves as such. We take bookings with that assumption. Even our name (X-Alt) gives away what we're all about.

So, we had booked, some time ago, an engagement at a local, shall we say, "shoppin' place". The management of said shoppin' place has since changed hands. Last week, the new person in charge of bookings at the shoppin' place calls Ford Prefect (our bass player and booking guy) to confirm the gig. The conversation went something like this:

Shoppin Place Manager: Y'all are still coming to play, right?
Ford: Well, we have to get around a few conflicts, so I'll call you back about that.
SPM: One more thing: y'all are a gospel band, right?
FP: Yep.
SPM: Could y'all, like lay off the religious stuff and play more generic 'holiday' music?
[silence]
SPM: Well?
FP: I tell you what, let me get back with you...

It would seem our list of non-mission related venues grows thin.

Nashville Blogger Meatup: The Final Outrage

2006-12-11T11:14:00.000-06:00

OK, now that my boss has finally left my office for her own, I have a few minutes to post some final thoughts about the meatup this past Saturday. I'm going to forget somebody, so apologies in advance.

John H is one cool dude. I wish I could be as friendly and extroverted as he seems to be. It's also good to see another long-suffering Vanderbilt fan.

To Katherine Koble: thanks so much for the generous gift. It'll wake up my Disney jones once again. It was great meeting you and hubby. I TOLD you Lintilla was the talkative one (well, I guess WARNED was the appropriate phrase).

I'm glad Brittney got to stick around. She always seemed to be at the center of everything. She was much more gracious to me than I deserve.

There is not one ounce of pretension in Ivy. What you see (in blog and in person) is what you get.

So, I had just finished checking on the kids when I walk past Kat, Aunt B, Ginger, my wife, and a few other female types (with Sarcastro chiming in as well), and they're having the weirdest, but most serious conversation, one I'm assuming was based on this post over at B's. I hear my wife tell her absolutely ancient 'foreskin'* joke. It was at this time that I decided it would be a good time to go get another beer.

Note to John Lamb: You look like somebody famous. I just don't know who it is. Keep coming here and I'll post Ugly Betty reviews every Friday after each new episode.

I forget sometimes how unbelievably close to a Republican cliche my wife and I are, until we mix and mingle amongst people who are anything but. Trust me, we aren't as button-down and unhip as we appear. Or maybe we are...

We did bring too much dessert, but being Methodists, we think that life is a potluck.

Lintilla really hit it off with the lovely Mrs Wonderdawg. I think she's the extrovert in their family, too. What an incredibly nice couple!

Ginger and daughter are both adorable.

Kate O oozes hip and chic. She was also quite friendly and gave me some new 'Slartibartfast' catch phrases.

Sista Smiff: what can I say? I'll bet she's the life of every party. She's one of those people that raises the enthusiasm of everyone in the room.

Of course, I would be remiss if I didn't add that JJ is irresistably cute. If Lintilla wasn't reading, I'd say the same about Linda...

...whomp...

[picks self up off floor]

* The foreskin joke, as best as I can remember it:

Many rabbis are starting to save and reuse the foreskins from circumcisions. They make wallets out of them.

And if you rub them real hard, you get a suitcase.

[rimshot]

To everyone else: thanks so much for having us. We had a ball.

ONE VERY VERY VERY LAST UPDATE: I forgot to mention this, but Lintilla and I are going to have to figure out a way to talk about what she does for a living (home hospice caregiver), without sucking the life out of a room. If anyone has any suggestions, that would be nice. We don't WANT to be the Schleprock's of the party, y'know!

Good Brownie

2006-12-11T10:49:00.000-06:00

Here's the vegan brownie recipe (I brought them to the MeatUp this past Saturday). I thought better of including the pecans; you never know who has a nut allergy. It's a VERY simple recipe, so give it a try:

Monas Chewy Good n Gooey Pecan Brownies

About Last Night (Part 1)

2006-12-10T07:34:00.000-06:00

Just a quick post before I leave for church about last night's Nashville Blogger Meatup at Mothership BBQ. Everyone was so gracious, and I felt right at home. It was great to see so many people I "knew", and the biggest compliment I can give is that everyone, to the person, turned out in person almost EXACTLY as I imagined them. That says a lot about the honesty in everyone's writing.

Ginger's daughter hung out with my kids, and Zaphod said as we were leaving "let's do that again!" - which I NEVER expected. Ginger, I think Zaphod taught your daughter a rap about how "cats suck" - sorry about that. Otherwise, they had a marvelous time hiding from the rest of us.

Most asked question of the night: "How do you pronounce your name?"

The food was wonderful. We'll definitely be back.

I'll post more in-depth later (I may even have some pictures). It was so much fun meeting everyone!

About the Names

2006-12-09T12:17:00.000-06:00

So, John H is having trouble getting my name out of his head. Allow me to make a suggestion:

What you do is try to think of the name with a British accent - it's not nearly as funny or catchy that way. If you say the 'ar's like the vowels in 'ought', you just might get it out of your head.

Or maybe a Boston accent...

But with a southern or midwest accent, pronouncing the 'ar's like 'R', it's hopeless.

BTW, the name of the blog is the only thing here that has nothing to do with Adams. 'Shoot The Moose' was a suggestion for an album title I threw out in a drunken band brainstorming session in the 80's.

It's a shame too - the album cover would have been so cool. I was planning on getting some mousse (the hair stuff, not the dessert; this was the 80's after all), and, well, shooting it. A shotgun would have made a wonderful, moussey mess. Very Spinal Tap like.

Alas. The band, for some strange reason, decided to pass, so I claimed the name for myself.

Other discarded titles from that night:

Shut up and Eat Your Taters
Men Without Foreskin

I can't remember the rest, because it WAS a drunken brainstorming session, after all.

Hoar of Babylon

2006-12-09T08:21:00.000-06:00

Lintilla braved the cold this morning and took some photos of the hoar frost in one of our gardens (we haven't weeded out the leaves yet)

The works of art provided by nature astound me. Click to embiggen.

Update: Lintilla discovered by looking it up that what is pictured here is not hoarfrost, but frost flowers. You learn something every day!

We Need Some Celery and a Can of Fake Snow

2006-12-08T09:52:00.000-06:00

Now that I've become the unofficial spokesperson for all things Yuletide tacky, I might as well go all the way.

As everyone knows, there are two types of Christmas songs: songs about the birth of Jesus and songs about the Christmas season. I would not be a very good Christian if I didn't say the former is my favorite type. Oh, Holy Night is my absolute favorite.

But, of all songs about the Christmas "season", one stands apart as my absolute favorite: Rober Earl Keen's "Merry Christmas From the Family". I know this sounds crazy, but this vulgar, tacky song actually gives me the warm fuzzies.

Why? I know these people. I guess you can take the boy out of the trailer park (and stick him in West Meade), but you can't take the trailer park out of the boy. All the folks Keen introduces us to in this song are people who have a parallel in my circle of friends and family.

And we HAVE made store runs on Christmas day for "ice and extension cords, a can of bean dip and some Diet Rites". I'm not so sure about feminine hygene products. Certainly Marlboro Lights.

I probably should feel guilty for loving this song so much, but I don't.

Halleluia, everybody say cheese!

How RUDE of Me!

2006-12-08T08:24:00.000-06:00

All this time, and I've never introduced you to Missy. Yes, that's her real name, because I can't remember a Douglas Adams character who was a dog.

Missy is a Cocker, we THINK she's an English Cocker Spaniel. She's a nice old lady that puts up with a lot.

Trust me, she's glad to meet you! (You can click to make bigger)

10 Things I Think I Think About John Lennon

2006-12-08T07:36:00.000-06:00

With all apologies to Peter King:

1) I think that my copy of Blogging for Complete Morons says that "you must at least dedicate 1 post every December 8th to the memory of John Lennon.

2) I think that there are 4 types of people in the world: John people, Paul people, George people and Ringo people. Susan Sarandon is a John person. Richard Gere is a George person. Paris Hilton is a Ringo person. Most bloggers are John people. I am most definitely a Paul person, and that colors everything I say from here on out.

3) I think John people look down on us Paul people. They see us as empty and shallow. Instead of tring to change the world, we're making money and listening to "silly love songs".

4) I think Sharon Cobb's description of "Imagine" was incomplete. She said it "a prayer for world unity". I think a more apt description would be: "A prayer for world unity through communism and atheism". Not that there's anything WRONG with that...

5) I think everything about Yoko Ono is beyond my understanding. I'll never "get" her. As a Paul person, it's my job to blame her for breaking up the Beatles.

6) I think every decent band with more than one songwriter has a John and a Paul. Don Henley and Glen Frey. Stevie Nicks and Christine McVie. Big and Rich (no, I'm not kidding).

7) I think John people make their biggest mistake by announcing that they're going to change the world. True world-changing events take the world by surprise. Announcing your intentions just makes the world recoil and get defensive. Don't TELL me, SHOW me.

8) I think John was one of the 10 greatest songwriters of all time. Most of his greatest songs were written BY. (Before Yoko).

9) I think songwriting is a craft more than an art form. (I guess I live in the right town for that mindset). Therefore, Paul is ranked a little higher than John on my scale. The mystical, imaginary person "JohnPaul", who wrote their collaborations, is the greatest songwriter of the recording era.

10) I think the world misses John Lennon. He was a defining force of his time and he was taken too soon. Were he here today, certainly he'd be leading the anti-war movement. I'd much rather have a person of his intellectual heft be the musical face of the anti-war movement, rather than that vapid front woman of an ex-country trio, who has, you know, like, a hard time forming a cohesive thought.

John, even though we never saw eye to eye, I miss you!

Slartibartfast - Flippin' Sweet!

2006-12-07T11:16:00.000-06:00

It's Busy Mom's fault!

Click to embiggen. Make your own here.

Bizarre Observations from the Men's Room

2006-12-07T09:33:00.000-06:00

Here at the corporate offices of the Sirius Cybernetics Corporation, in the restrooms they have installed those automatic towel dispenser thingies. I just noticed the weirdest thing:

In the lobby men's room, the motor of the towel dispenser emits a high pitched whine every time it kicks in. If you stand in front of it, close your eyes, and wave your hands in front of the dispenser, you'll notice one unmistakeable fact:

This particular towel dispenser makes the exact same sound as Godzilla.

Lighten Up, Light Snobs!

2006-12-07T06:52:00.000-06:00

This is one of the most important facts about me: I hate snobbery in all its forms. Fashion snobs, literary snobs, class snobs; Nashville is crawling with music snobs. Mention Toby Keith in certain company and see the looks you get. The very last time I cracked open a Nashville Scene was quite a few years ago; it was the "You Are So Nashville" edition. One of the winners that year: "You are so Nashville if you think Olive Garden is an Italian restaurant". Someone thought that was funny, and the folks at the Scene liked it enough to give it a prominent place in the article. Goodbye, snobs!

I'll tell you a quick story. In high school, I didn't lack for friends. But looking back, I realize that all my friends were misfits, the "weird kids", all those people who did not fit into any of the social groups that high school society tries to force people into. Back then, it was the jocks, freaks, brains, preppies and the "band people". None of my many friends fit into any of these categories. And, I see now, for some reason they looked to me as some kind of de-facto leader. I guess I've always been overprotective of the victims of snobbery.

Back to the here and now. Lately, I've been noticing a lot of blog posts about "bad" or "tacky" Christmas decorations. This seems to be the current trend in snobbery. Those rubes! They have a lit, hollow plastic Joseph and Mary! A Rudolph inflatable snow globe? Save us from Dollar General! Too many lights, too many cheap plastic Nativity scenes, unmatched colors - these are mortal Christmas light fashion sins, apparently. I feel like I'm in high school again.

If you want to complain about the commercialization of Christmas, or the effect of all those lights on the environment, that's one thing. I might even agree with you. But that's not the tone I'm hearing. No, most of the posts about "bad" Christmas lights seem straight out of the Nashville Scene. You can almost hear the snicker.

Each snicker target has a human being behind it. Perhaps their intention was to out-do the neighbors, but that's not for us to say. All we know is that they spent a lot of time setting up their tacky decorations because they wanted to expres...something. I refuse to doubt their sincerity.

I could go all "Christmas Shoes" on you; I was told a story last night about one of the people that seems to go overboard (in decorating their house) that would absolutely break your heart. But I'd rather appeal to your better nature without applying guilt trips.

Look at it this way: if you take a 4 year old child to see some of these houses, what is their reaction? Do they recoil in horror at the tackiness of it all? Or do their faces light up as bright as the decorations themselves, as they say in a half-whisper, "wow...".

Maybe the children have it right, and maybe that's why they seem to enjoy Christmas so much more than the rest of us.

Meet Me in Little Italy

2006-12-06T11:27:00.000-06:00

Aunt B has one of the funniest stories about race and middle management at large corporations I've ever seen. She speaks of some idjit who claims he's not racist because he drives down Jefferson Street. In other words, he's not a racist because he actually allows his car to go through a predominately black part of town.

After I finished laughing, I thought of something that creeps into my mind from time to time. Nashville has a "black" part of town, as all southern cities do. But, if you travel any to other mid-to-large cities in America, you'll notice that Nashville is different. We are not segregated culturally.

There is no "Little Italy". No "Chinatown". No Irish enclaves, or Korean, Turkish, Indian, or Ethopian. Some would argue that Nashville has a "Hispanic/Latina" part of town, but I'm not so sure. Our Hispanic population seems pretty widespread throughout Davidson county - even though there does seem to be a cultural concentration in the south Nashville/Nolensville road area.

Nashville's Asian population is about 2%, yet can anyone identify an "Asian" part of town? Same goes for any other nationality/culture besides African American and (possibly) Hispanic.

My question is, is this a good thing? I say it is. Other cities can have their segregated, rich cultural areas. I like our intermingled diversity.

Not Cool

2006-12-06T06:34:00.000-06:00

This shows how out of touch I am. I just found out that my kids' absolute favorite attraction at Walt Disney World has been totally revamped. I know, I know. Disney does this sort of thing on a constant basis. And, if it weren't such a beloved memory in my family, I could probably agree that the place needed a remodel. As it is, I'm quite meloncholy.

What is it? An old classic like Pirates of the Carribean or Spaceship earth? Tower of Terror? Space Mountain? Test Track? No, my kids' favorite part of Disney World wasn't even a ride, per se. It was a little, hidden out of the way, living advertisement for CocaCola called Ice Station Cool.

Huh? Well, these are not YOUR children. I don't get it either. But when we went to WDW in 2003, they insisted we go back to Ice Station Cool 3 times. And when we made a return trip in 2004 for my 40th birthday, ISC was the absolute first place they wanted to go when we got to Epcot. As any parent knows, anything that beloved by your children is beloved by you (except Spongebob).

Ice Station Cool was just a room accessed from a winding hallway. They kept the room at what seemed to be 45 degrees or so. Shaved ice was on the floor of the hallway. You don't know HOW GOOD this blast of cold air felt after being in 95 degree weather most of the time! I could have stayed there all day.

Once you got through the pretty nondescript hallway, you ended up in a wide room that had "stations" all around - each with 5 or 6 taps dispensing CocaCola products from around the world. As I recall, they were all pretty good, except the "Beverly", which tasted like sassafrass and licorice. Finally, there was, of course, a big CocaCola gift shop. (Everything at WDW begins with a line and ends with a cash register).

OK, so, for some reason this morning I was feeling nostalgic, I do a search on Google, and what do I find? They've revamped the place into some swanky looking hotspot called "Club Cool". It has a futuristic feel, kind of like the work set of Ugly Betty.

IMHO, all of the hokey, quaint, tacky charm of Ice Station Cool is gone. It just looks so "hip" - and if it's one thing my family is not, it's hip. My kids will be devastated.

But then again, maybe not. We're planning on going back in 2009 to get the whole "going to WDW with teenagers" vibe. More than likely, the teen Zaphod and Trillian duo will not have the same loves and passions that they did when they were young children. I can envision us passing by Ice Station Cool, feeling nostalgic, and saying to the children

"Come on! Let's go into Ice Station Cool!"

"Dad - that place is so lame"

"But you LOVED it last time we were here! I couldn't drag you away!"

"Dad, I was seven years old. I'm almost grown now. Hey, let's head to Test Track!"

I'm almost grown now... Ouch.

Maybe Disney saved me a little parental angst, after all.

I'm a Terrible Father

2006-12-05T12:31:00.000-06:00

Trillian was all upset last night because we have not yet put up the Christmas tree. I have many legitimate reasons for this, but really such a transgression is inexcusable. I have children, it's Christmastime, and there is no tree in our living room.

I feel bad enough that we've switched to an artificial tree. Lintilla is a Real Tree kind of person, and although it's all the same to me, I've always made having the "real tree" one of my small tokens of love for Lintilla. But the last few years, we've had to leave town in the weeks around Christmas. Since my parents ran away from home again, we'll be spending a week in December in the shining metropolis of Milton, FL.

And there's no way I'm having a formerly live tree (ie, firewood with tinsel on it) in my house when I'm not there. One devastating fire is enough for one lifetime, thank you.

But like I said, not putting up even the artificial tree is inexcusable. I'll do it tonight.

No, I won't; I've got band rehearsal tonight. I'll do it tomorrow.

No, I won't; we've got church activities. I'll do it Thursday.

No, I won't. Zaphod and Trillian both have book reports due, and they always put them off till the last day. I'll do it Friday.

...

...

AHA! I am a PERFECT DAD!

To John H

2006-12-05T08:30:00.000-06:00

Sorry I've been negligent in posting timely Ugly Betty reviews. Holiday schedules and the creeping crud are keeping me from normalcy. I'll probably get to it Friday, because that will be the first time I'll have to re-watch the episode.

I will say this though: there is no way Betty permanently moves to MYF . That would mean that all the current co-stars would no longer be co-stars, so I think something's going to happen to bring her back to working for Daniel.

This past episode also highlighted a philisophical argument I've been having with Hollywood and pop culture in general about the nature of love. I believe very strongly that love is and active verb, that love is something that we "do" - but Hollywood insists on portraying love as something that "happens to us". I blame the perpetuation of this myth for at least half the divorces we see today. But I'll save that argument for another, seperate post - probably around St Valentine's Day.

Finally, (and this may seem strange coming from such a right-winger), I'm convinced that Marc and Justin are the most entertaining cast members of all. Especially Marc. I LOVE the catty thing he does with his eyes to show displeasure or bemusement. Yes, the whole thing with Wilhemenia giving him the SUV was very predictable, but the way he hid from the supposed hit man was hilarious.

More on Friday...

This is Stupid

2006-12-05T07:49:00.000-06:00

So, I told Katherine Coble in her comments yesterday, that I would explain why I have a self-imposed ban on commenting about matters of race. Here's the weird thing: I've started that particular post 3 times, and each time as I developed my argument, I looked it over and said to myself, "This is stupid!". After the third time, I decided that maybe it wasn't just my argument that was stupid, but the underlying position itself.

So, I hereby lift my self-imposed ban on race-issue commenting, because my reasons were, well, stupid.

Which leads me to an interesting question:

Have you ever talked yourself out of an argument or position through proofreading your own words? Have you ever looked at something you wrote (hopefully pre-post) and said, "This is stupid"?

Geting Hoarse Beating the Horse

2006-12-04T06:51:00.000-06:00

So, I promised myself I wouldn't yell at all during the Titans game yesterday. After all, I've been sick the last week or so, and Saturday at rehearsal my voice was horrendous. Only a vow of silence for a week could repair things.

Going into the game I thought, "What could there possibly be to yell about? The Titans will let down after their great comeback win against the Giants - they're still a young team." When they carted PacMan off the field in the first half, I mentally made a checkmark beide the "game over" box.

I'll know better next time. Vince Young, PacMan, Travis Henry, and Ahmard Hall literally willed the team to victory. I include the latter because he is an absolute difference maker on the field; right now he's my favorite Titan. He is Lorenzo Neal with service medals. A 27 year old rookie who eats linebackers for breakfast.

Anyway, once we intercept Manning late in the first half and drive to score a touchdown, I gave up all pretense of saving my voice, and yelled for all it was worth. And the Titans kept giving me things to yell about. Reynaldo Hill and Lamont Thompson - the two weakest links on the defense - are playing WAY above their heads right now. I still hope they are replaced next year, but you have to hand it to Jim Swartz for designing a scheme that hides their weaknesses.

Peyton Manning hates 3-4 defenses. Most of his losses have been against them. The Titans run a 4-3, and you can't just change the scheme overnight. What the Titans did yesterday wasn't a 3-4, but a "3-4-like substance". Most of the game, it looked like the entire Colts offensive line lined up with no one to block. Manning had no idea who was going to pressure, and who was going to cover. This reminded me of the "8 defensive backs" scheme Gregg WIlliams designed in 1999 against the Rams. Brilliant.

When the final drive stalled and Fisher sent out the kick team, I told Zaphod, "Is he crazy? They have Peyton Manning and one time out!" When we called a time out and sent out the punt team, forcing Dungy to use his last time out, then sent out the kick team, I said "We're going to win!" I didn't think Baronas would make the kick (it was a 60 yarder for crying out loud!), but big MO was on our side, and I guessed we'd win in OT.

Well, the kick was good, and the place went nuts. I screamed so hard I literally lost my voice. Nobody wanted to leave. THAT was one of the most fun games I've EVER attended.

Now, I resume my vow of silence until the meat-up Saturday.

Both Sides of the Fence

2006-12-01T08:24:00.000-06:00

It seems like, regardless of matters of war and peace, religion, race, and economics, the one issue that seems to define our times is immigration. I've been struggling with this issue, because my middle-child instincts cause me to go back and forth. Finally, after months of wrestling with my own thoughts, I've developed the Slartibartfast Doctrine - a policy that is sure to tick off every person I come in contact with in one way or another.

First off: a little housecleaning. I am not a big fan of the term "undocumented immigrants". Not because I prefer the term "illegal alien", but because I hate euphamisms. Such phrases cloud the debate and leave us flailing at the wind; we refuse to name that of which we're speaking - and we end up talking past one another. I once heard an ER nurse joke that they refer to drug dealers as "unlicensed pharmaceutical distributors". This is the same thing, and just as ridiculous. The phrase is used to take the sting out of the unlawfulness of the person's actions. So let's take the middle way: I'll refer to them here as "unlawful immigrants". "Unlawful" has a little less sting than illegal, and "alien" is a little too dehumanizing for me. I'm not totally happy about the "immigrant" term, either (as I'll explain later), but it'll do for now.

Also, can we all agree that there is no inherent Human Right for each person on earth to be on US soil? This is a good starting point. If we agree on this basic principle, we can start to develop our framwork for the Slartibartfast Doctrine. It means, not everyone who wants to be in the US gets to be here. This is key. Human nature dictates that some people will try to come to the US without asking permission. We have to have some way of preventing this.

This is the paleoconservative part of my Doctrine. I am in favor of a fence, an impenetrable wall, 1000 feet high and 500 feet into the ground, with thousands of guards, and bazookas and William Shatner CDs blaring, and hundreds of sweaty football players with unbearable BO, and lots of guns, guns guns - you get the picture. I want impenetrable barriers at both land borders (this is important), and an armada at sea. Under the Slartibartfast Doctrine, the only way into the country would be through the gates. They would be BIG gates, but if you are a non-US citizen, and you want to get into the US, we need to know you're here.

Secondly (after this last paleo part, we're going to be getting a lot more liberal), we need to change one important demographic in the current immigrant wave. Uh-oh, you must be thinking, is Slartibartfast a racist? By no means! I care not what race or culture an immigrant belongs to. However, I think it's only fair, if we're going to call someone an "immigrant", that his intention is not merely to work here and send money back home, but to eventually become a US citizen. This, as I see it, is the most critical difference between this wave of immigration and the ones of the past: all the evidence seems to point to the fact that a huge majority of the people "immigrating" to this country are here merely to work; I don't see huge waves of people yearning to be US citizens. I'll be glad to look at any evidence you have to the contrary.

Sooooo, (switching gears to semi-liberal now), I propose we make some estimate of how many people are getting into the country, legally and illegally. This number is probably what the Market will bear. After the Impenetrable Barrier is built, we allow the same number to come here legally. The only difference is, I believe at least 80% should be here trying to become citizens. If this means we have to loosen up sponsorship and paperwork requirements, so be it. Remember, they're all coming through the front door. We can weed out the "bad guys". "The Wall" allows us to be far more liberal in oue entrance requirements.

Now, I tick off my paleo friends. What of those who are already here? Well, after the Impenetrable Barriers are built, what the heck: AMNESTY! Yes, we're rewarding unlawful behavior; however we wouldn't be encouraging others to come illegally - the barriers would take care of that. This wave of "illegals" would be the last. Welcome to America! If you want to become a citizen - no problem. If you don't, I'm afraid we'll have to ask you to leave. Of course, we would still deport the "bad" ones (criminals) as we find them.

Now two Impenetrable Barriers (north and south) would be INSANELY expensive. But the US is an incredible nation in this way: when we decide something needs to be done, we find the resources to do it. Just look at our history. WWII, the Space program, the ill-fated War on Poverty, and the (apparently) equally ill-fated War in Iraq. We have an incredible capacity to throw around incomprehensible sums of money when we put our minds to it.

When you think about it, the Slartibartfast Doctrine is really the current US policy toward Cuban refugees: we're going to do everything in our power to keep you from coming here, but if you make it, WELCOME!

The way I see it, our two options are the status quo, and the Slartibartfast Doctrine. Anything else is just playing around the margins and putting off the problem for the next generation.

Random Morning Stuff

2006-12-01T07:25:00.000-06:00

The face is fine. Well, except for the fact that the chiseled lines of my youth have given way to the middle-age bowling ball look, but that problem's been around for a few years now. Thanks to all for well wishes and prayers. It appears Kat and Joe were correct - it's not a relapse, just a friendly reminder that the cranial nerve sometimes just wants to take a day off. I still have a little numbness, but it all works.

I got to thinking about it last night, and the main reason I was worried was because we are very soon heading into an extrememly busy time for X-Alt, right after the New Year. But the more I thought about it, I guessed it would be OK. An eyepatch would give me a cool Dr Hook vibe, and since I sing backup on all but one song, consonants are optional. In fact, I'll do this from time to time: when I forget the words to a song, I'll sing random vowels until I can find my place again. Singing harmonies has its priveleges.

I kicked Lintilla out of bed last night. Well, I don't remember it; I had taken Nyquil and was out like a rock. But apparently every fire truck on the west side of town went up our street at about 2:00 this morning, then Lintilla couldn't get back to sleep because of my snoring. So she headed for the couch.

I've offered for a week to sleep on the couch, because I know congestion makes me snore like the 3 Stooges. She'll have none of it, though. I'll bet she brings some Breathe-Rite strips with her when she comes home from work tonight.

The wind has been absolutely horrendous here. Some of my yard Christmas decorations ended up in the street. Maybe God is trying to tell me something.

Lintilla started reading this blog. Maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll talk her into commenting. Of the two of us, SHE'S the talkative one.

OK, enough randomness; my next post will be about something.

For Whom the Bells Toll

2006-11-30T12:05:00.000-06:00

I'm fairly alarmed right now.

In The Year From Hell, I contracted Bell's Palsy. For those of you unfamiliar with this particular illness, it's basically paralysis of half the face. In my case, I lost any use of, or sensation in: my left eyelid, my left cheek, my left nostril, the left side of my mouth. I also lost all sense of taste.

Eating/ drinking becomes a challenge when your mouth doesn't close. Even if you use a straw, you still have to tilt your head to one side and let gravity do the work, or whatever you're drinking ends up in your lap. I had to wear an eyepatch because I couldn't blink on the left side. Of course, speaking under these conditions becomes a challenge as well.

I had the worst of it for about 3 months. I never completely recovered - to this day I cannot purse my lips well enough to whistle, and when I get tired, my left eye droops, making me look like an idiot, or at least like Sylvester Stallone.

In The Year From Hell, the precursor to the Bell's Palsy was a severe sinus and ear infection. The doctor theorized that the infection got to my cranial nerve, triggering the palsy.

I've been very lucky, because reoccurances are common.

Well, I've been quite sick with some kind of very strong head cold the last few days.

Sometime today, I noticed that the tip of my nose is numb. I'm faily alarmed. I ran to the mirror, and everything is still working correctly. I did the "raise both eyebrows" test, the "smile with mouth closed" test; it's all still working.

But last time, it hit overnight. I just woke up, and my face had stopped functioning. I have no idea how long it took for the paralysis to kick in: I was asleep.

I'll let you know tomorrow whether I've once again become a drooling, drooping, incomprehensible fool. Some of you probably are thinking to yourselves, "How will we notice?" That's not funny! Well, yes it is, but like I said...

I'm faily alarmed right now.

Discrimination

2006-11-30T07:01:00.000-06:00

Microsoft Word's spellchecker gives me the little red squiggles for:

Zaphod
Trillian
Lintilla
Slartibartfast

However, there are no "you can't spell, you dumb dope!" squiggles for:

Gandalf
Aragorn
Galadriel
Frodo

I know geeks. I am one of their High Priests. But I can tell you, the ones in Redmond need to expand their horizons a little.

Let's Talk About Football in Church!

2006-11-29T11:46:00.000-06:00

Katherine Coble is wondering why we have to talk about football in church. Great question! Let me give it a shot, from a lay-preacher point of view. Just from small clues I've picked up here and there, I'm guessing that you (Katherine) attend some kind of "high" church. We Methodists haven't been "high church" in quite a while, so hopefully we won't be talking past one another. I might also add that I'm only speaking for me, I represent no one.

I think, Kat, that you may be complaining about football banter that is outside of the sermon (probably in the announcements). I'm not too crazy about using this time for good natured ribbing either (leave more time for the SERMON, dude!), but even with that I think it serves a purpose: letting visitors know that the congregants are real human beings with real lives, who don't go around saying "thee" and "Thou" all the time. But, I could go either way on the subject. I'll let others speak to that. But I can tell you why I believe referencing football in the middle of a sermon is not only allowable, but a good idea.

One of my favorite "great thinkers" of all time is Ravi Zacharias. I learned from him that there are three levels of philosophical discourse:

1) High-level, theoretical, the kind they talk about in graduate courses in ivy league universities.
2) The Arts and popular culture.
3) "Kitchen Table" talk, or daily life.

According to Zacharias, the most effective way of driving home a point is to argue at level 1, illustrate at level 2, and apply at level 3. Conversations that stay at level 1 may be interesting to eggheads, but you'll lose the masses quickly. For the Christian, level 1 is theology, and all those "isms" that they talk about in divinity school. Levels 2 and three are extremely important (especially 3), but they need to be grounded in "higher principles" before they are useful. So, I have adopted this three-tiered model in all of my sermons. It is important to note that scripture is used in all three levels.

Now, back to football. In the south, football is very much part of the popular culture. It is perfect for level 2 (illustrating through popular culture). I once preached a sermon based simultaneously on Psalm 116 and The Music City Miracle, and I'm told it went over quite well. It also brought Psalm 116 to life.

We must be able to apply the "high thoughts" and concepts to things we know. Jesus gave the woman at the well the New model for worship: spirit and truth. Art and science. Hearts and Minds. Scriptural discourse becomes quite dry when left by itself. The heart must be stirred as well.

There is no better way to make scripture apply to our daily lives than by illustrating the underlying concept through movies, sports, television - things people know and interact with every day. More importantly, things that stir hearts. Plus, it's quite easy to slip into having seperate "church life" and "Life life". Many people only think spiritually in church. Pop culture references help us see God in everything we do and see. I've lately been exploring the theological allegories in Charlotte's Web. It's not very "churchy", but God lives beyond the walls of the Sunday Meeting House.

Now, football illustrations would not work with you, because football isn't your thing. But in the south, a preacher can pretty much connect with 90% of the congregation with a football reference. Movies and television references would work with you most likely. My latest sermon was called "Extreme Makeover, Soul Edition", on the subject of Sanctification. That one was fun, and it really seemed to connect with women in the congregation.

In short, I guess what I'm trying to say is that a good preacher sees God in everything, and tries to guide the congregation to see God in everything, too. Because football is so big a part of daily life around here, it's an obvious choice to accomplish this.

I do feel like I've missed the mark on the original question,and I'm sorry for that. But I can only speak of what I know.

Sweet Moment

2006-11-29T06:58:00.000-06:00

I wasn't going to post about this, but Sista Smiff's wonderful recounting of her own story of Santa doubt and belief has compelled me to share this.

Lintilla and I have been wondering for a while if this is going to be "the year". By "the year", I mean, will this Christmas be our first without Santa Claus? All the signs have been there: Zaphod is in 4th grade, and many of his friends have fallen away. He is "Mr Logical", and we thought last year he would have brought the subject up, but seeing as he did not, we were sure this year he would. Trillian is only 15 months younger than Zaphod, so we've always assumed "as Zaphod goes, so goes Trillian". The kids made a wish list and and gave it to US, and didn't mention a thing about Santa. There are almost no toys on the wish list (which is kind of sad in it's own right).

We prepared our speeches, and waited for the inevitable question to come up. But something weird happened: the question DIDN'T come up. We started to get nervous. Here we were, all prepared for that uncomfortable "talk" that would be a precursor to all other other uncomfortable talks, and our kids weren't cooperating.

So we forced the issue. This past weekend, while watching "The Santa Claus" (which is a perfect movie for this subject, BTW), we slyly asked Zaphod what his friends thought of Santa's existence. He then proceeded to astound us.

He said that many of his friends don't believe in Santa anymore. "But", he said, "God does wonderful and miraculous stuff all the time, and many people don't believe in Him, either. But we know He exists. So, I believe."

By the way, he really talks like that, but that's for another post.

We were speechless. I can't tell you the pride I felt at that moment. It's hard to type this now without getting misty-eyed. Logical Zaphod, my son, cut to the heart of the matter and not only gave a well though out answer, he applied philospy. A 10 year old philosopher? Wow.

I know I'm awfully hard on Zaphod, I know Trillian has me wrapped around her little finger, and Zaphod resents it. Parents are always tougher on their firstborn, but that doesn't make it right. I must try to do better.

Moments like these remind me just what a wonderful son I have. Every now and then, a window opens up and I get a fleeting glimpse of the man my son will grow up to be. I look forward to shaking that man's hand, taking him out for a beer, looking him in the eye.

And telling him I love him and I'm proud of him.

Snow Big Deal

2006-11-28T06:16:00.000-06:00

So, I've been waiting for the right moment to post this, but since it's about Nashville weather, there is no way to predict the "right moment". With a teeny-tiny chance of snow later in the week, I thought "what the hey". So, if I've got everything right on a technical level, I'm posting my first "song" post to Shoot The Moose, in the form of a podcast.

Earlier this year, I wrote a song about the madness that happens in Nashville every time it snows. I made the song about a generic southern city, because the same things happen in all southern cities that get the occasional snow. "The weatherman", at least the one in my head, is a composite: the attitude of WSMV's "panic sisters", Tim Ross' face, Davis Nolan's authoritative way of speaking.

Anyway, here's the usual caveats. It's a home studio recording, so you may have to turn up your volume a bit. Yes, I'm slightly off key at the beginning, but give a boy some props, I did play all the instruments. I'll post the lyrics at the end of this post, but you really need to hear the song to get the humor. To any industry types who know "the perfect artist" to record this one: I'll be right here, just comment.

So anyway, here it is:

Click here to get your own player.

The Great Southern White-Out

Style: Up-Tempo Country-Punk

Lyrics:

The weatherman was nervous, sweat rolled down his brow.
It was bad enough to interrupt the Days Of Our Lives
He said folks, this is important, you better listen to me now
The day that we’ve all been dreading, I'm afraid it has arrived.

We've got an artic blast coming down from Canada,
And a lot of moisture floatin' up from the Gulf of Mexico.
Batten down the hatches boys, we've got the perfect storm
Everybody, go insane, when I say the word "snow".

It was almost more than anyone could take.
They closed the schools at the fall of the first flake…

Chorus:

It was the Great Southern White-Out.
The storm of the ages
The paper had a special pullout
It covered seven pages.
The old folks like to tell the tale
When the young folks gather round
Of the great Southern White-Out
That paralyzed this town.

There had been eight hundred accidents by the time an inch had fallen
And abandoned cars were on the side of every major road.
The Yankee Transplants laughed at us, till they'd hit a patch of ice
And redneck boys in four wheel drives offered them a tow.
The gov'nor called the National Guard to defend the milk at Kroger.
It seems a housewife had pulled a gun over the last loaf of bread.
By the time we got four inches, they had closed I-65
And the state homeland security had taken us to red.

And the TV tried to warn all of the masses
Stay off the bridges and the overpasses

Chorus:

It was the Great Southern White-Out
A storm to remember
The wooly worms tried to tell us
Way back in September.
The old folks like to tell the tale
When the young folks gather round
Of the great Southern White-Out
That paralyzed this town.

[Guitar Solo]

Slower:

Dad tended to the fire, and I built myself a snowman
We all marveled at the snow just hangin' on the trees
My sister made snow angels, and momma made hot chocolate
Winter in the southland Can be a sight to see

We enjoyed it while we could, till the next day
The sun came out – and it melted all away…

Chorus

C'est la vie !

2006-11-27T06:18:00.000-06:00

So, Thanksgiving went wonderfully (although my version of my mother's famous roll recipe turned into overcooked little dough-balls), the bird turned out to be the best I ever had (thanks Alton Brown), black Friday was uneventful. Saturday, we head to Opry Mills to look at something at the Corelle store, only to find it's been closed for some time (we don't get out much). We got in a good walk though.

Sauturday, I notice a "tickle" in my throat; by Saturday afternoon, my fears were confirmed: I could start to feel the aches all over my body. By Saturday night, the fever hit. The chills were awful; I begged Lintilla to finally put the electric blanket on the bed. Thank God for NyQuil. I slept pretty hard.

Anyway, to the point: I knew I wasn't fully better Sunday morning. So, I skipped church, and gave my Titans tickets to my Nephew as an early birthday present.

Let me say that again: I gave my Titans tickets away.

Of course, by the time kickoff happens, I feel almost 100%; I feel like I could have gone. Nothing like infecting 67,000 of your closest friends, right?

So, I miss the greatest 4th quarter comeback in Titans/Oilers history. The greatest comeback by a rookie quarterback ever. The game when VY and Pacman turned the corner and started to come of age. The game where Rob Bironas misses an important field goal, only to redeem himself with the game winner.

Oh, I watched it on TV, but it's not the same. You see, game-for-game, hockey is a better "live" experience than pro football. But when things like this happen, being there at LP field can be glorious. I, along with the 200,000 other people who claim to have been there, witnessed the Music City Miracle live. What I remember most about that moment was that I hugged a policeman. And he hugged me back. I'm telling you, there is nothing like it, being there.

But as they say, C'est la vie ! Sometimes you're there, sometimes you're not. At least I didn't have to fight parking lot traffic. But here's to the Titans, one Manning down, one to go! I'm going next week, if they have to haul me in on a stretcher.

Many Thanks

2006-11-22T15:39:00.000-06:00

So, the boss sent me home early, and I'm here preparing the brine for the turkey. My daughter is psyched about helping me cook. It now officially feels like Thanksgiving. I feel compelled to outwardly express my gratitude to God for the many blessings in my life.

I am most thankful that Jesus Christ stepped out of Timeless Eternity and suffered what should have been my fate. He spun a web, so the Father could see, that said "Some Man", saving my eternal life - and it took His earthly life.

I am thankful for my parents, who sacrified much to raise my brothers and me, and provided the perfect model of lifelong Love.

I am thankful for my brothers, who share an unspoken bond with me; yet our differences, despite our shared DNA, must give delight to my parents.

I have the deepest gratitude for Lintilla, who has shared my life these past 19 1/2 years. She gives so much to the community, and still is able to be the kind of wife every man dreams of. God, as usual, knew what He was doing: our seperate peculiar quirks made each of us incompatible with anyone, but each other.

I am thankful to the core for Zaphod and Trillian. I have learned more from them than they will ever learn from me. They fill our home with laughter, and joy. There is sadness and concern as well, but the laughter and joy overwhelm everything else.

I am thankful for, and to, Zaphod and Trillian's birth mother. I hope I am doing a good enough job to make you proud.

I am SO thankful that I am allowed to be part of the incredible things God is doing through X-Alt Rhythm and Praise. Y'all are my best friends in all the world, and we have the special bond that comes from being present when God visibly displays His majesty. We've been through the Wars together; we've seen some incredible stuff this year. You guys rock!

I am very thankful for the Nashville blogging community for taking me in, or at least putting up with me. As they say, "Fools rush in", and I'm the biggest Fool of all. I'm thankful Brittney at Nashville is Talking didn't tell this very peculiar conservative to just go away - but she's "Stand Up", and I have utmost respect for her. I am especially thankful for, and to, Katherine Coble, who has, for lack of a better phrase, taken me under her wing. It is tough and scary being the new guy, and having someone who is already "in" watch your back and show you the ropes is invaluable. I will NOT forget.

I am thankful to Belle Meade United Methodist Church, forever. While not yet a member, I lost everything in a house fire. You took me in, clothed me, made sure my family was fed, even collected toys for my kids. Yes, you have hurt me bad this past year, but God turns all things to good, and nothing can break the gratitude I have for your graciousness in my time of need.

I am thankful for my employer. They have given me every opportunity to succeed and hopefully, I have risen to the challenge.

I am thankful that circumstances have allowed this son of a working man to live in a neighborhood I never would have dreamed I belonged.

I am thankful for a full cupboard, a big yard, and all my "stuff".

I am thankful for my life. Thank you, God.

EEEWWWW!

2006-11-22T08:29:00.000-06:00

Others have posted, quite eloquently, about the anniversary of the death of president Kennedy. Their words speak for me; I want to let it be known right away that I fully agree with their sentiments and I understand the solemnity of the occasion.

But, at Shoot the Moose, there is always a bizarre angle to every story, and today is no different. My connection to the assassination of president Kennedy is, to say the least, strange. I mean no disrespect, but every year at this time, I have to giggle just a little.

I was born in mid-August of 1964. I was a preemie, about a month early - give or take a week. One year, I did the math, and what I found shocked me. I was conceived in

"late December, back in '63..."

Oh.My.God.

This knowlege ruined a perfectly good Frankie Valli song for me. EEEWWWW.

What the DEVIL does this have to do with JFK? Well, according to my parents, the remainder of 1963, starting with November 22, was solely and completely about JFK. Think about the months following 9/11. Things that normally happened continued to happen, they were just not reported on the news (rightly), because Bigger things were afoot. My parents tell me that there was 24/7 coverage of this tragedy for weeks. That was extraordinary - the TV stations were not geared for the 24 hour news cycle back then.

Now, perhaps, I was a "comfort" baby. Maybe, my parents were so distraugt that they found solice in, well, "making" me. More than likely, they were Democrats at the time - they were young and southern, and back then, that meant "Democrat". So they would have been double-distressed. But, knowing human nature, that's probably not the case.

My mom was 18, my dad, 21. (Hey, it was 1963 - don't be judging the 'rents!). They were young parents, and probably by this time, bored. I am thouroughly convinced that I am here blogging before you today because there was nothing on TV. Oh, what a night, indeed.

Wanna Talk About Number One, Oh, My, Me,My

2006-11-21T08:58:00.000-06:00

The end of the last post was kind of fun. Liberating in a way. I'm going to see how many "facts" I can list about myself. I'm not one of those people who can make it to 100, but I'll free-associate here and see what happens.

I was a DES baby. This caused the next several facts about me:

I was rejected by Uncle Sam to serve in his army in 1983. This fact gives me "checkenhawk immunity" :)

I have slightly higher estrogen levels than most men, which means I get weepy watching movies and Extreme Makeover, Home Edition, I write oh-so-sensitive poetry, and I actually enjoy cooking and housework. Do NOT get the wrong impression, however. I also like football, Nascar, hockey, heterosexual sex, Salma Hayek in a pushup bra, and war movies. I guess that makes me hormonally ambidextriuous!

One label I will never have is "Babymaker". This, in the end, turned out to be a blessing.

I am proficient in 6 programming languages.
I can play 7 instruments on a basic level, 4 (piano, guitar, bass, mandolin) well enough to brag about it.
Lintilla and I stopped at Krystal in full dress and tux after our wedding.
I spent my youth and young adulthood worrying about being underweight (sigh).

Here is a major fact about me that even I don't understand: I am simultaneously paralyzed by shyness in one-to-one situations (especially with females), yet I am fearless speaking or performing in front of a crowd. I have NEVER had stage fright, even in front of a thousand people, even preaching. But get me alone in a room, and you'll be hard pressed to have me look you in the eye. I guess, as long as I'm in a situation where I can 'hold forth', I am in my element. I must be a psychopath.

I got a perm in my long-ish hair in 1984. I think I thought it would make me look like Young Springsteen, but with my wispy mustache and glasses, I looked JUST LIKE Weird Al Yankovic.
I am left handed.
I write with my right hand, however. (Thanks, stupid kindergarten teacher!)
I, like all the men in my family, have a phobia about talking on the phone.
My dad never quite knew what to do with me. He could handle my older brother, he was just a hellraiser. But I was weird.
I was once sent home with a report card that had a single comment: "Strange behavior"
I know this fine person.
Lintilla and I lived between Smyrna and Murfreesboro from 1989-1992. We sold our house right before the boom.
My family moved a LOT when I was a kid. By the time I graduated high school, I had lived 10 different places, all in middle TN.
I saw Rick Springfield/Til Tuesday at Municipal Auditorium in 1985. Nothing like being surrounded by 12,000 hot & bothered women.
When I was 19 and semi-living-at-home, my parents' house was destroyed by fire. I lost everything I owned.
In 2002 (which must be refered to on this blog as "the Year from Hell"), we lost our house to a fire. We lost almost everything we owned, except, miraculously, the boxes and boxes of pictures and momentos.
I also had Bell's Palsy in the Year from Hell. I still can't whistle.
The state of TN and the FBI have a 'file' on me. This was long before the Patriot act; if you adopt, especially internationally, you have no secrets.
I have Titans season tickets.
I am a lifelong Vanderbilt football fan. This prepared me to be a Titans fan.
My best friend is the guy who says "This portion of Channel 4 News brought to you by..." He also is the 'voice' of most of the locally produced ads at WSMV.
I have never been west of St Louis.
Before this past summer, I had never been north of Bowling Green, KY, or east of Asheville, NC.
I have a fear of heights.
I have been an on-screen personality in an infomercial.

2006 has been the best year of my life.

There's a lot more, but then I wouldn't have anything to blog about, would I?

That was fun.

Anony-Moose

2006-11-21T07:20:00.000-06:00

There was something about Thomas McKenzie's post about anonymous blogging that really got to me yesterday. Normally, I love his writing, but something about this post had a neener-neener quality to it, and I think it's quite unbecoming.

What the post said made sense on some level:

It seems the internet is full of people who are creating alternative identities. I don't have to give you any evidence of that, you might well have an alternative identity yourself. Perhaps you are anonymous on the web. I don't know, and I don't mind. I understand the impulse. However, there is a sense in which anonymity only further fosters the break-down of community, real relationships, and accountability.

I want my blog to be a place where I can be better known, and I can better connect with others. My blog is a hobby, and its also a document of self-exploration and self-expression. But its also a forum for real connection. And because I am accountable to "real-world" people, its a place where I can further develop integrity.

Certainly lately we've seen examples of problems when anonymous bloggers are outed when they don't want to be. I don't know if these latest dustups are what Thomas is talking about, but it is an interesting coincidence.

The problem, though, is that McKenzie only gives one reason why someone would blog anonymously: to create an alternate identity where one can say things they wouldn't say in "real life". I'd like to help him out, and let him know that there are other reasons. Here are a few:

Some of us are just geeks. As you can tell, I am a Douglas Adams geek. Sometimes, to the geek mindset, it's just cool to see how many references you can put in one place to whatever it is you're geeking over (in my case, "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"). Sometimes, believe it or not, it's just a way of having FUN.

Some use it as a marketing tool. I first found, and got interested in Busy Mom because of the name, and the way she had named her entire "busy" family. She drew me in. That's good marketing. I can't tell you how many people have come here and asked "I saw you over at NIT and had to come here to ask: You didn't REALLY name your son Zaphod, did you?" Well, if I do a good job, I can win them as a loyal reader. But they never would have come in the first place, if the name(s) didn't make them curious.

Some of us have children, who made us promise we'd never mention them by name. I took a little heat for discussing my son's weight problems here. And I NEVER would have done it if I had to use his real name. But you know what? I asked for help, and I got some incredible suggestions that are WORKING as we speak. Sometimes, anonymous posting is quite helpful, especially when speaking about third parties.

Some of us post to our blogs (gasp!) while at work, and we'd like to keep our jobs. I never post about the company I work for, but I do occasionally (well, more than occasionally) post while "on the clock", as it were. Yes, I know that somewhere in the bowels of the massive net logs produced at my very large company, there are records of me posting to Blogger. I have no intention of helping them out, though. Is it wrong? Probably. I never said I was perfect.

I am very much aware that many people blog anonymously so they can say outlandish things and not get called on it in real life. That's not me, I blog semi-anonymously for all the reasons listed above. And I'm not very anonymous at that: I post pictures of my children, and make no bones about the fact that I play in this band, and I've left countless other clues that one, if they wanted to, could piece together and "out" me.

I'll give you a few more:
I graduated from Hillwood High School in 1982, it would have been Bellevue HS, but desegregation forced the closure of Bellevue in 1981. I live in West Meade and attend a nearby United Methodist church. I played in the praise band there until earlier this year, till we got fi...er..the church went in another direction. But they STILL let me preach every now and then. I played in a Hair Power-Pop band in the 80's. My kids go to a Catholic School, located in a part of town with a lot of "War is Not the Answer" yard signs. My dad was a machinist. My younger brother has muscular dystrophy. Heck, even the name of this blog gives away who I am to people who know me. This ought to be enough.

Take this info and do with it what you will. Me, I NEED the thin veneer of semi-anonymity for the reasons I listed above. Rest assured, Slartibartfast is NO different in what he says or how he says it than the "real" me.

Movie Weekend

2006-11-20T06:48:00.000-06:00

Considering the yardwork that still isn't done, the preparations still ongoing for Thanksgiving, UT/Vandy, Titans on Sunday, and our 65% full DVR, you would think this would have been a horrible weekend to spend the greater part watching movies. But somehow, that's how it worked out (maybe it was the weather). All in all, a very good weekeend.

Friday Night, Lintilla was having a girls night out with a good friend, and the kids talked me into going to Blockbuster. We decided on Click for Friday night. Let me tell you, Click is a perfect example of why I'm getting myself a ClearPlay for Christmas. Here was a movie that had a wonderful message, the kind of message you want to pass along to your kids, but also had boatloads of stuff you'd rather the kids NOT learn, like language. Objectionable stuff aside, Click is one of the best movies I've seen all year. The previews give you no idea that there are some pretty heavy tear-jerk moments in this film.

I got up early on Saturday, and I wasn't in the mood for the weekend morning news with my coffee, so I checked out what was out there in OnDemand land. I have no premium channels, so it was Encore, or pay for it. Well, Encore had one of my all-time favorite movies, so I gave it a whirl just as Trillian was coming downstairs. She decided to join me instead of watching cartoons.

While You Were Sleeping is my all-time favorite "chick flick". Trillian had never seen all of it, so she watched, too (loved it!). You see, Sleepless In Seattle seems too contrived (except for the part where they're making fun of chick flicks) - AND I can't stand Rosie O'Donnell. When I examine the kind of romantic movies I like, it seems I have a thing for "quirky" families. My favorites are Moonstruck, My Big, Fat Obnoxious Greek Wedding, strangely enough, Only the Lonely, and the best of them all, While You Were Sleeping. Sandra Bullock was adorable as Everygirl. Her love story with Bill Pullman was almost beside the point - she was saved from her loneliness by being taken in by this strange, wonderful family. Gets to me everytime.

Next on the list was the one we had been waiting for: Happy Feet. This movie did not disappoint. Everything about the film was stunning, especially the big dance numbers. The "Boogie Wonderland" scene alone is worth the price of admission. I WAS worried about the subplot of humans decimating the food supply with overfishing (could Al Gore be too far behind?), but this was neccessary and handled beautifully. From the POV of the penguins, the humans were not evil, they just didn't know what their actions were causing. This prevented many "man is the root of all evil" conversations on the way home.

There was a little disappointment in the one scene I was looking forward to, the "Somebody to Love" number. I actually thought it was done better in Ella Enchanted. Something about it seemed empty and soulless. Perhaps it was Brittany Murphey's voice, I don't know. Maybe I just set my expectations too high. But it was still jaw-dropping.

The film borrowed quite a bit from other films (in a good way). I saw pieces of The Ten Commandments, Footloose, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Fame. Robin Williams, though reserved, was wonderful, as was Hugh Jackman's Elvis-type character. All in all, I left the theater with, well, Happy Feet. Right-brained Trillian loved it. Left-brained Zaphod, not so much. You can't please everybody, I guess.

Finally, Saturday night found us watching another Blockbuster rental, Nacho Libre. I was expecting another Napolean Dynamite, but I can't tell you how bad this movie was. Awful. It was off the suckage scale. The plot was so simplistic it was boring, the only funny moments were slapstick. None of us liked it.

As a side note, we are all looking forward to Charlotte's Web. We will probably also go see The Nativity Story.

Damn

2006-11-17T12:40:00.000-06:00

Just Damn ...

Hold me
Even though I know you're leaving
And show me
All the reasons you would stay
It's just enough to feel your breath on mine
To cool my soul and ease my mind
You've go to hold me and show me love

Give me
Just one part of you to cling to
And keep me
Everywhere you are
It's just enough to steal a heart and run
And fade out with the falling sun

Oh, please don't go
Let me have you just one moment more
Oh, all I need
All I want is just one moment more
You've got to hold me and keep me

Tell me that someday you'll be returning
And maybe
Maybe I'll believe
It's just enough to see a shooting star
To know you're never really far
It's just enough to see a shooting star
To know you're never really gone

Oh, please don't go
Let me have you just one moment more
Oh, all I need
All I want is just one moment more

Oh, please don't go
Let me have you just one moment more
Oh, all I need
All I want is just one moment more
You've got to hold me and maybe I'll believe

So hold me
Even though I know you're leaving
-Mindy Smith, "One Moment More"

Best. Ugly Betty. Ever.

2006-11-17T07:27:00.000-06:00

If the 11/16/06 Ugly Betty ("Four Thanksgivings and a Funeral") is any indication, this show is in for a good, long run. The comedy is back! There were two moments where we were laughing so hard, we missed something important and had to rewind (more on that later).

Granted, the drama was still there (Betty and Hilda REALLY get into it, bringing back way too many stressful holiday memories for me), but this week, it wasn't the whole show.

It'll be hard to tell you about the two best moments without giving too much away, but here goes. As was set up last week, Justin's father comes over for Thanksgiving dinner (in return he agrees to provide the $5000 Hilda needs to retain the immigration lawyer for her father). He brings Justin a gift of an entire New York Jets uniform, whick Justin misconstrues as a "costume". There is something SO funny that happens with the "protective cup", all I can say is you HAVE to go to ABC.com and see this episode for this moment alone!

The other wonderful moment involved Amanda and Marc. Amanda had nowhere to go for Thanksgiving (her "date" had to do something silly like be with his wife and kids), and Marc really didn't want to go home to his family because apparently he's still in the closet and didn't relish the thought of spending the weekend talking about his non-existent girlfriend. So, the two of them decide to sneak into Wilhemina's office, get drunk, and watch the Macy's parade.

This sets up an incredibly funny sequence where both of them are trying on designer dresses and dancing around the office. I can't describe how funny this is, you'll just have to see it.

In the meantime, Daniel is pining over Sofia (Salma Hayek), and apparently "something happened" between them that has not been shown on screen (I actually like this). But Sofia has a boyfriend, the absolutely perfect "Hunter". Daniel actually agrees to go to his father's Thanksgiving get-together because he knows Sofia will be there (unfortunately, with Hunter). The rest of the episode has Daniel trying to compete with Hunter, which of course is impossible when you're dealing with a hunky, Scandanavian model who works with the Peace Corps.

Finally Wilhemina has a sweet moment with Nico, who comes back to New York for the holiday. She makes a home-cooked meal as a surprise; in order to accomplish this she calls Martha Stewart for directions (Please, producers, don't do this again - it really seemed out of place!)

Two things happen that advance the mystery backstory: 1) Marc and Amanda, in their drunken stupor, call the "mystery lady", mistakenly thinking she's Wilhemina's lesbian girlfriend. Now, mystery lady and Wilhemina both (mistakenly) think that somebody is onto them. 2) Bradford hires a second hit man to dispose of the first hit man, which he does by "burying" him alive in Faye Summers' crypt, which they have discovered, is empty.

All in all, this was the best episode so far - it hit all the right notes and had a great mixture of drama, comedy and mystery. The producers are being pretty daring, going from a 'Devil Wears Prada' feel, almost to a 'The Birdcage' farce. The over-the-top comedy carries the risk of offending both gay and religious sensibilities, but they pull it off. My stomach still hurts from laughing.

Episode Parental Advisory: The "gay" theme was in full force, although, as usual, only implied. I can't tell you how masterfully they straddle the line (and believe me, I'm Mr right winger - I'd cut my kids off in a second if the line were ever crossed). Marc and Amanda wonder out loud if Wilhemina is a lesbian. There, again, is one usage of the word "B**ch" (is this like a drinking game thing? There has been exactly one "B**ch" utterance in every episode. Do they have a quota?). Marc and Amanda spend almost the entire episode drunk. You may also have to explain to the kids why Justin is mistaken about the protective cup.

Crazy Squirrel

2006-11-16T10:38:00.000-06:00

Anybody been to Disney World in the last few years? I'm just wondering if this crazy, fearless squirel is still hanging around next to the fish and chips place in Epcot. He was as relentless as I am in getting paws on a french fry!

Yes, I know he's vermin and could have given us a disease. But how could you NOT reward such brazenness?

Exhale

2006-11-16T08:33:00.000-06:00

Negative.

No sweeter words, ever.

They had called Lintilla back to the Dr. to get a second mammogram - there was "something" they needed to take a second look at.

Lintilla was nonchalant about it, so I played along like my usual goofy self.

But I was terrified.

Negative.

I can breathe again.

Truth Hits Everybody

2006-11-16T06:43:00.000-06:00

Sean Braisted got me to thinking of Billy Joel with this post: Nashville for the 21st Century: Sad .Sean is upset that the newly elected Dems seem to be putting power grabs ahead of their agenda. You can almost see the fringes of disillusionment that eventually hit everyone.

But why Billy Joel? I'm glad you asked. At this point in my life, my favorite Joel song is "Angry Young Man". This song used to really p*ss me off when I was a young idealist. Now I just think it's true. Check out the lyrics of the bridge:

I believe I've passed the age
Of consciousness and righteous rage
I've found that just surviving was a noble fight.
I once believed in causes, too
I had my pointless point of view
And life went on no matter who was wrong or right.

To think that Joel was in his 20's when he wrote this is amazing.

Politicians grab power and hold onto it for dear life. That's what they do. Their "agendas" are just window dressing to get votes. Oh, they'll enact a watered-down version of their agenda to throw a bone to the base, but nothing - and I mean NOTHING - is more important to a politician than holding onto power. Democrat, Republican, it doesn't matter.

And it's not their fault.

Whenever a politician does get idealistic and tries to change the world, he gets crushed underfoot. Oh, we say we want change, but what happens when someone REALLY tries it?

Hillary Clinton's push for health care reform ought to give you pause.
Even George Bush, who idealistically attempted to totally remake the Middle East, in a (many would say) foolhardy "democracy breeds peace" scheme.
And just watch and learn next time someone REALLY tries to reform social security.

I'm not saying we should all disengage politically. What I am saying is that maybe we should lower our expectations of our elected leaders.

After all, they're only politicians.

Is this thing on?

2006-11-15T20:16:00.000-06:00

Testing to see if my posts are even making it to the NIT aggregator. Yes, I switched to blogger beta. However, I did have one post show up after the switch, so I think it's just a Zionist plot.

Old Guy Playing with a Computer

2006-11-15T07:30:00.000-06:00

Does anyone know how to embed an mp3 on a blog? By "embed", I mean an easily-recognizable link that streams when the user clicks on it? (Like they do with YouTube video). Having a link and asking the user to do a "file/save as" seems a little clunky. Plus the darn file is nearly 10MB, and I don't want to have people cursing me everywhere.

I want to post a demo of what some have called "the greatest song I ever wrote". It's the one time I quit being so serious and tried to be funny. I'll post the lyrics as well, but you really need to hear the demo to get the full effect.

Any help by you young whippersnappers would be appreciated.

UPDATE: I must add that I have a place to host the file, I just have no idea how to stream it.

Emmitt! Emmitt!

2006-11-15T06:54:00.000-06:00

Last night, after a bad day, I turned on the television and saw an amazing sight. I saw an aging ex-football player achieve a state of grace.

Yes, I watch Dancing With The Stars. Can a man be a fan of the NFL, Nascar, AND DWTS? I wouldn't have it any other way.

Mario Lopez can dance. He has always been the best pure dancer on the show (I'm sure he's had extensive training). It's almost not fair to NOT give him the top prize.

But to see the former Cowboy getting his old-school groove on, doing a better M. C. Hammer than Hammer does, and just plain having FUN, well, I smiled and laughed despite myself. The joy just bubbled up.

It's funny that so few of these kind of moments come from modern television, it's even funnier that one would come from THIS show.

Vote for Emmitt!

OK, I'm game

2006-11-14T10:19:00.000-06:00

You Are 48% Open Minded

You aren't exactly open minded, but you have been known to occasionally change your mind.You're tolerant enough to get along with others who are very different...But you may be quietly judgmental of things or people you think are wrong.You take your own values pretty seriously, and it would take a lot to change them.

How Open Minded Are You?

Almost open minded enough for my brains to fall out.

Chicken Stories

2006-11-14T06:30:00.000-06:00

Since my kids are 'tweeners, I've been feeling pretty wistful about how much of their childhood is over. My son's 10th birthday was spent at Chuck E Cheese's (not the indulgent $20 per kid party, we were just eating pizza and hanging out). Most of the kids there were younger than Zaphod. I spent the whole time thinking to myself "This is it. Next year, he'll want to go to the mall or something."

Zaphod asked me for a digital camera for Christmas. It took a while for that to sink in. He didn't say, "I'm going to ask Santa for a digital camera", he asked me directly. I'm kind of in a mild panic about it. Does this mean we have to have that long-dreaded conversation about Santa before I'm ready, or is this his way of letting me off the hook? Regardless, it's another milestone I'm really not ready to face.

Then last night, I got a reprieve of sorts. At bedtime, the kids wanted to hear a chicken story.

That's right, I said "chicken story".

When the kids were little, we read to the children at bedtime each night, just like the 10-second celebrity PSAs told us to do. But Thursday nights were different. In old time storyteller fashion, I would weave a tall tale, telling it with as much flair and over-the-top drama as I could muster. Because the kids liked animals, and because I love the alliteration in the word "chicken" (just the sound of the word is comedic), I told the stories about a family of chickens on the Johnson farm.

Zaphod and Trillian sat on the end of the bed mezmerized by stories of Rooster Red, Henrietta Hen, and their favorite, Farnsworth the Flatulent. The latter was able to save the whole chicken coop from a fox attack by strategically eating a big Mexican dinner for lunch. Lintilla was none too pleased that I told that story.

As time passed, it got harder to make things up on the spot. Since they were little, for a while I was able to get away with retelling famous movie plots with chickens as the lead characters. But as time passed, they caught onto this too (plus, I was running out of movie plots). I started making excuses not to tell the stories, they became more infrequent, then stopped altogether, even though Zaphod and Trillian would beg for one every so often.

It hit me a couple of days ago that I had been channeling the ghost of Harry Chapin. How stupid of me! I had blown off a major part of my kids' childhood, and now it was gone! They are getting too old to want to hear "those" stories any more.

Then, last night, Lintilla was sick, so she couldn't read to Trillian (who still likes to be read to in bed). I offered to read, but Trillian asked instead for a chicken story. When I said "OK", Zaphod, to my surprise, rushed over from his room to hear the story. It was hard, because I'm out of practice. Since they are currently doing book reports on historical fiction, I weaved up a civil war era chicken story. Things were a little different - they kept interrupting me to correct some fine historical point - yet they listened to the end and made me promise I'd give another next week.

It is comforting to know, if we pay attention, that God eases us into these things. Hyperbole aside, our kids do not go overnight from dolls to makeup, from toy cars to real cars. I will hold this time and cherish it. Perhaps, it is the best time of all.

Return of the Penguins

2006-11-13T12:42:00.000-06:00

This year's crop of Holiday season movies was looking to be one I'd prefer to miss, until this past weekend when the kids wanted to check out the Comcast On Demand previews for "Happy Feet" .

Now, I'm excited. This is one movie I want to see opening day.

I'm something of a a digital-animation movie nut. I can tell you that in this particular corner of the movie world, there is Pixar, then there is everyone else. Pixar, with Toy Story, found the right formula and has never wavered. Pixar films have real stories, the kind adults can enjoy even if they don't have children. I still contend that The Incredibles is the best movie EVER about the "middle age crazies". FAR better than American Beauty. In all fairness, Cars was not the best Pixar has done.

That being said, the other studios have had a hard time getting it right. They can make movies the kids like, but parents are bored. The one HUGE exception was Dreamwork's Shrek . Its sardonic attitude was just plain FUN, the music was offbeat and wonderful, and there was a real story. IMHO, Shrek was one of the 10 best animated movies EVER.

I did not see Open Season. The "animals go on an adventure" theme is old, I've already seen THAT movie. I was about to give up hope for any studio but Pixar to ever make an entertaining animated movie.

Then I saw the previews for Happy Feet. Unless I have totally been fooled, I can tell this is going to be a GREAT movie.

It's going to be a film based on Joy. Isn't that what we've been missing lately? Pure, unadulterated joy? Springsteen Jersey concert in 1978 joy. Church of God revival meeting joy. First love, first car, first kiss joy. I can't wait.

It appears to be a celebration of music and dance. It features the "sounds" of Sovian Glover, for crying out loud! The soundtrack , it's my favorite kind: new people doing old songs. The storyline is also my favorite: finding your place in the world.

I can't wait. Is it November 17 yet?

Bill Hall and Old Nashville

2006-11-13T10:05:00.000-06:00

So, WSMV is bringing Bill Hall back for an interview, just in time for November sweeps. That ought to tell you something. Bill Hall is something of a Nashville icon. Nashville transplants may not understand when the word 'beloved' is tossed around whenever Mr. Hall's name is mentioned. We lifelong Nashvillians (all four of us) understand completely.

Bill (Mr Hall just doesn't seem right) is a throwback to the "old" Nashville; the one that was smaller and less important than Memphis (and had an inferiority complex about it), the small big town, or the big small town, the one whose tallest building was the L&C tower. Harvey's, Opryland, Cain Sloan, sold-out Vanderbilt football games: Bill is the symbol of the Nashville in which I grew up. It's kind of sad he's been put out to pasture. It's even sadder that I remember his first day on the Ralph Emery show.

It's only a matter of time, we'll see the other old icons go, too. They'll be replaced by generic anchors who are vying for a shot at CNN. I cannot imagine a Nashville without a Bob Mueller, Anne Holt, Cris Clark, Dan Miller (although we had that for a while), Hope Hines, even Demetria, who as a transplant is still one of the most iconic of Nashville news personalities. I refered to her only by her first name, and you knew who she was: that's an icon.

No matter where you went away, or for how long, you could come back and these folks were still here waiting. They "were", and "are" Nashville in that they retain the pleasant, friendly persona that was Old Nashville. We took them for granted. If you could time-lapse video from the 70's to the present, the passage of time could be marked by the lines on Chris Clark's face. I am sad that Nashville will, in the not too distant future, just become another mid-sized market, indistiguishable from Indianoplis, Charlotte, Columbus, at least as far as our newscasts go.

One final thing about Bill Hall: he may have been the world's most preeminent African American redneck, and that may be the biggest reason of all to miss him.

Friday Night Stuff

2006-11-10T17:06:00.000-06:00

Now that we've established that I'm certifiably insane, let's move on to some more lighthearted stuff.

Zaphod is with the program. I am so proud of him! We've cut back portions, and obvious "bad stuff", and I've heard very little complaint. We've upped the activity, and he's gone for it 100% ! Yipee!

Part of our exercize program we just finished. Round three of the leaf wars is over, and we won! The two biggest oaks still have 50% of their leaves, but we hauled off a ton this afternoon. We'll get the last of it when the inevitable early-December warm-up occurs.

I'll get to the Ugly Betty review tomorrow. Too much to do today. Hint: this one got four thumbs up!

Finally, I LOVE living in West Meade (except for the leaf wars) . I just spent the last hour with my family, after the leaves were done, watching a family of bats swoop overhead, hunting misquitoes. It was fascinating, they NEVER stopped! It is so neat to have a little nature preserve to entertain us, right in our own yard. We have Fat Eddie (our groundhog who lives in our front yard), Chip and Dale (two chipminks that wake us too early on Saturdays, a family if deer that live in the woods behind our house, and countless squirrels and birds. We also have a pack of coyotes that lives near here, they made a heck of a lot of noise around midnight the other night. Regardless, it is so neat to have all this nature, and still be 5 minutes away from Kroger!

Virgin Territory

2006-11-10T10:30:00.000-06:00

I'd like to introduce you to someone. He's a gangly 23 year old. Still reads Tolkien and Douglas Adams. Socially awkward, he still lives with his parents. Drifting, his current line of work is foodservice.

Oh, I need to mention, he's a virgin.

Quick! Play word association with me. Pick one word to decribe this young man.

If over half of you didn't come up with the word loser or some variation thereof, somebody's lying. I guess the more empathetic of you might have thought something like pitiful. Both attitudes about this young man are different sides of the same coin. One is cruel and one is patronizing. They are both quite illustrative.

I'd like to talk to you about a societal problem that you most likely don't even know exists. Those affected stay silent, or, more likey, they outright lie.

I'd like to talk to you about Incidental Virginity.

What a strange phrase! I struggled with that name, because I wanted to represent something very specific. Involuntary virginity wasn't quite right, that's more in line with chastity belts and the like. My working definition for now for incidental virgnity is: A post-pubescent person who inadvertently has not had sexual intercourse. The inadvertently is key to this discussion.

You see, there are two kinds of virginity in modern society. There is the purposeful kind for religious or political reasons, many times accompanied by outward signs and rituals. True Love Waits is probably the most well-known movement in this category. Most public-arena discussions about virginity center around this kind. Since its adherents are so public about their intentions, it's fair game. I want to make it perfectly clear that this kind of chastity is NOT what I am talking about.

Then there is incidental virginity. A person who would very much like to partake in the deed, but for whatever reason has not. In our society, it's the stuff of comedy. We all laughed watching The 40 Year Old Virgin, it seemed OK because Steve Carrell's character was such a good sport about the whole thing. Trust me, most incidental virgins are "good sports", outwardly. But there is another side to this kind of existence that they don't show you in the movies.

Let's give some background to this with a little history. In my parent's time, the societal expectation concerning sex was "wait till marriage". More importantly, this attitude was (generally) reflected in the peer society of youths as well. To get around this, many married young, some quite young, and this kind of arrangement seemed to work for everyone.

By the time I was in high school (1979-1982), that had changed somewhat. The sexual revolution had worked its way down from college to high school students. There was far more acceptance of teen/youth sexuality from society as a whole. But, as with all societal movements, youth sexuality (at least on a peer level) went from revolution to orthodoxy. There wasn't a religious "Chastity Movement" yet, so if you had made it into your twenties without having done the deed, there was something wrong with you.

I guess I should tell you at this point (if you havent' figured it out yet), the gangly 23 year old loser was me.

At the time of my incidental virginity, there were no less than 10 coming of age movies in which the central plot was the protagonist's quest to "gain his manhood". Virginity was a problem that needed to be fixed. And, if you happened to fall into this category, you had no right to be called a man. This is the implication of the phrase "make you a man", or "gain your manhood".

The incidental virgin dies a death of a thousand cuts. Society, through popular culture, tells him he is not complete. His adolescence is over, but he is not yet allowed to call himself a Man. (I assume women have the same attitude, I don't know). Friends inadvertently add to the pain, with a slap on the back and a jolly, "Boy, what's WRONG with you? We've got to get you laid!"

What's wrong with you?

The incidental virgin goes to sleep every night, asking this question. What's wrong with me? EVERYBODY's having sex but me! What am I, a leper? What's WRONG with me?

After a while, it just becomes too much. The tag of "loser" and "not-quite-a-man (or woman)" is a heavy burden to carry. For a man, it can become so overwhelming that turning to a prostitute actually becomes thinkable. As for me, that was something I ultimately could not do with good conscience, so I did what any reasonable person would do.

I made up a lie.

It was a good one. I chose the right time, then I told everyone I knew. A beautiful stranger had "made a man out of me". I had finally rid myself of my Shame (at least outwardly). I even told someone who I KNEW would tell my father. I actually thought he would think better of me if he believed I weren't a virgin. This is how bad the stigma (especially for men) is.

How strong is this stigma? It caused me to do something ridiculous: I carried the lie into my marriage. Lintilla had no idea she was my first and only until I "confessed" two years into our marriage. When we were dating, I didn't want her to think I was a loser. This is the society we live in today: I was ashamed of something that I should have been proud of. After all, there aren't many "one woman and only one woman for life" men out there - they could put me in a museum.

Looking back, I now know intellectually what caused my incidental virginity. Hopelessly romantic and socially awkward are not a good combination. Having no fashion sense probably contributed. And of course, the biggest contributor to the situation was probably the overwhelming fear of rejection that many young people have. I know all of this intellectually. Emotionally, strangely enough, it still hurts, after all these years. Even though I had a "happy ending": happily married, successful, living in a most desirable neighborhood. To prepare to write this, I took a good look at myself back then. Out of nowhere, I wept. It still hurts.

I know I've gotten extremely personal here, and no doubt many of you are calling me a "whiner" by now. I don't give a flip. If this is your attitude, I'm not talking to you right now. Go away. For the rest of you, I'll say: do not make your virgin friends feel like less than a person. Watch what you say and how you say it! Popular culture tells the incidental virgin he's a loser; don't inadvertently pile on.

Finally, something tells me there are quite a few reading my "testimony" and nodding their heads. If that's you, I want to say something directly to you:

There is nothing wrong with you.
Just be.
Don't let others define manhood or womanhood for you.
Others say hurtful things when they don't mean to. Forgive.
Don't rush; let "it" be right, and at the right time.
Don't let ANYONE define your worth for you.

There is nothing wrong with you.
There is nothing wrong with you.
There is nothing wrong with you.

Fair Warning

2006-11-10T09:57:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, at Nashville Is Talking, there was a discussion of "Purity Balls". In the comments, I made a complete ass of myself. After my second ridiculous comment, I had to take a step back and ask myself why I was behaving so irrationally.

What self-examination revealed was surprising. What had REALLY set me off was in the original referenced post at Women's Health News Rachel ahd said something I'm sure she thought was totally innocuous:

Now, it's not as though I think kids should be going out and having a ton of sex (although they will)...

The "although they WILL" reference had brought back some incredibly painful memories for me. I decided to write an explaination as a post, both to give context, and as a cathartic method to finally move on from something which I have never been able to let go.

Needless to say, I hereby will excuse myself from any political/social discussions about "virginity", I don't think I'm capable of rational discussion of the subject. I am very sorry for going off. Really, I am.

Fair warning, my next post will be extremely personal - if this makes you uncomfortable, I have lots of humor posts you can read instead. You have been warned.

If you, however, want an insight into a societal problem you've probably never though about before, stay tuned. It'll be in a separate post, because it's quite long. If I don't chicken out, I'll post it shortly.

Couldn't Resist

2006-11-09T12:50:00.000-06:00

I know y'all are like me in that you ravenously devour any Moose news:

Moose meat in space

Excerpt:

Christer Fuglesang, who is set to become the first Swedish astronaut to embark on a space mission next month, said Thursday he will bring a decidedly Scandinavian flavor to the food menu aboard the International Space Station.

Fuglesang will serve dried moose meat, crisp bread and gingerbread cookies, a Christmas favorite in Sweden, to his colleagues on one of the 12 days he is set to spend on the ISS.

I wonder if this was the same moose that bit my sister?

So There

2006-11-09T11:05:00.000-06:00

US Vote Not a Shift To The Left, Bill Clinton says

I'll Take a Half-Pint

2006-11-09T07:38:00.000-06:00

I have come to the conclusion that there is no earthly way to explain why one person is attracted to another. I touched on this long ago, in a previous incarnation of this blog. Some things are just meant to be a mystery.

How do you explain this ? Or this? There's just some things God meant to never be understood in this life.

So, I had to ask myself, do I have a celeb-crush that defies logic? Well, yeah. As long as I can remember, I've had a "thing" for Melissa Gilbert. Half Pint? The woman who beat out Rhoda for president of SAG? Lifetime movie queen? Yep.

Some of it is demographics. She and I are both 42, (she was born 2 months before me), we've "grown up" together. You know how when you look in the mirror, you never see yourself as the age you really are? Well, anytime I've needed a reality check, I check out Melissa. I must still look pretty good:

A little older, a few lbs heavier, maybe, but genuine, classy, dignified. I can't explain it, but I think she's absolutely beautiful. Not stretched, botoxed, nipped, tucked or plastic. And the way she carries herself is so un-Hollywood! (Kinda strange, for the president of the Screen Actors Guild, when you think about it). She married an older man (a Republican for cryin' out loud!), and stuck to it. In a sick perverted way, I find that sexy, too.

Oh, and there's this from her profile:

My favorite junk foods are, Krispy Kreme doughnuts and spicy, fried pork- rinds.

How could I not be smitten?

My Biggest Fear

2006-11-09T06:53:00.000-06:00

My biggest fear is NOT Nancy Pelosi. It's not terrorism, or gay marriage, or being accosted by the homeless. Death scares me not at all.

Fire, heights, and suffocation are pretty big fears, but they pale in comparison to my biggest fear.

My greatest fear is, and always has been, turning on the television and seeing myself portrayed as a Muppet without my consent.

Just Drop the Exclamation Points, Please

2006-11-08T16:42:00.000-06:00

Did I get the wrong ballot?

Maybe they didn't give me the special glasses that enable you to see the "hidden" parts of the ballot.

Somehow, I totally missed it. Apparently, yesterday, Tennessee banned homosexuality. At least that's the implication you have to draw when reading the hyperbole flying aroung the Tennessee blogsphere.

Like this. Here's a excerpt:

I mean, really, what harm are these people causing? What actual harm are gay people doing to you? Is the Gay Mafia causing you to go out and don some Gay Apparel?

Those precious ones over at TGW are making plans on leaving our hate-filled state . They apparently are expecting gay lynchings at any moment.

Take a deep breath. Let this old man cut through all the fog and tell you what really happened. Tennessee is NOT filled with clones of the Matthew Shephard killers. Those kind of people don't vote (heck they most likely aren't Christian either). What is IS filled with is little old men and ladies, who see stories on the news about gay marriage, complete with video of same-sex couples holding hands and kissing.

The little old people voted yes on Amendment One because they didn't want to see that video anymore.

For the record, I am in favor of a legal civil union that any two adults (including siblings - I mean ANY two people) can enter into. This ticks off my evangelical friends, but that's too bad. The unions I propose would have the exact same legal and financial benefits of marriage. It would NOT be called marriage though. As far as the government is concerned, it would be a totally platonic financial contract.

Why?

In the US, we still subscribe to the Romantic ideal of marriage. It's not just a business arrangement arranged by the families of the bride and groom, like in traditional and other societies. Oh, there's a financial/legal aspect to it. But it's also a societal validation of the Love of two people.

It's that second part that both sides of this debate have refused to talk about.

It's not about hospital visits.
It's not about inheritence rights.
It's not about equal housing, or fair employment, or joint checking.

I think most Tennesseans could agree to something that granted these things.

But giving a societal stamp of approval on the LOVE of a same-sex couple?

Old Gertie and Buford aren't quite ready for that yet.

Can we drop the hyperbole so we can have a civil conversation about this?

Or maybe they really did ban homosexuality, and I missed it.

Election Final

2006-11-08T06:28:00.000-06:00

Congratulations to the Democrats.

I am now a red person in a slightly blue country, as opposed to Tennessee liberals who are blue people in a slightly red state. Lots of angst to go around!

I'm investing in GlaxoSmithKline.

Only one snarky comment: Now that the Dems have won, why is it that the cries of "Diebold! Diebold!" have gone silent? If the machines guaranteed that the result would be tainted if Republicans won, the flaws that caused the original hypothesis still hold. Where's my paper receipt? Were the machines hacked? Count we count on Nancy Pelosi to launch an investigation?

10 Things Time Machine: 1985

2006-11-07T12:38:00.000-06:00

It is 1985. Here are 10 things about me:

1) Favorite Song: "Kyrie" - Mr Mister.
2) I am one year out of tech school and one year away from crashing and burning at MTSU. 21 years old. What a dope!
3) I weigh all of 132 lbs. I am doing everything I can to gain weight.
4) I still maintain my "virtue". This is NOT by choice.
5) I have started my music career. I've written enough songs for our band to make a 8-song demo. It was pretty bad, but I thought I was the next Dylan.
6) I see "Back to The Future" about 10 times at the Lions Head Cinema.
7) I see Rick Springfield at Municipal Auditorium. What I remember most was being one of the few men in a sea of hot and bothered girls and women. Good Times. Til Tuesday opened up, and to this day I don't know if the bass player was a man or a woman.
8) Not wanting to go the Way of the Mullet, I go to the hair place in the 1st level of 100 oaks and get a perm on my quite long hair. I remember thinking it would make me look like a young Springsteen. With my glasses and wispy mustache, I ended up looking EXACTLY like Weird Al Yankovic .
9) I drive a 10-year-old, falling apart white Pinto. I took out the 8 track, put in a Pioneer cassette player. I was big stuff.
10) This "woman" shows up at a Halloween party the band is playing wearing a multi-colored sweater dress, leggings, high-heel boots and green and orange hair. She comes to a couple more shows (sans costume). Then, she starts showing up for breakfast at the McDonald's I worked at. I finally get the message, and I go on my first date with Lintilla late that year. We go see "Santa Claus, The Movie".

10 Things Time Machine: 1975

2006-11-07T10:56:00.000-06:00

It's 1975. Here are 10 things about me:

1) Favorite song: Philadelphia Freedom.
2) I am in the 5th grade at Gower Elementary school.
3) Favorite hangout: Strike n Spare on White Bridge Road.
4) I saw 'The Apple Dumpling Gang' at the Plaza Theater on Charlotte Pike, and 'Return of the Pink Panther' at (I think) the Belle Meade Theater.
5) Bellevue was nothing like the sprawling craziness it is today. It consisted of a Kroger (where the Eckerd is now on Hwy 70), a McDonald's, and the Jr and Sr High Schools. Oh, and quite a few 'white flight' residents.
6) I start my writing career by writing a short story about a Russian invasion of America thwarted by some high school students. I am not kidding. It was set in Smith County TN, and my lead (in my head) looked NOTHING like Patrick Swayze. Somebody owes me!
7) By this time in my life, I have lived in 7 different houses. We moved a LOT.
8) Saturday Nights my folks let me stay up to watch Sir Cecil Creape.
9) I have a vivid memory of doing the "bump" with a girl named Tracy at recess.
10) They found Marcia Trimble. My mom wouldn't let me out of the house for weeks.

Great Moments in Parental Ethics - Eposide 1

2006-11-07T07:54:00.000-06:00

I have a question for you.

Let's say you and your spouse have settled into that suburban trap: living in an overscheduled, child-centered, "everyone's always tired" home. You feel guilty because you rarely have any time or energy for your spouse. Your new euphamism for sex is your "quarterly review".

Now, let's say lately you've made an effort; you're trying to do better. But the last few times you've put Marvin Gaye on the cd player and chilled some adult beverage, child 'x' and child 'y' took turns coming into your room.

"Mom, I can't sleep"
"Dad, I had a bad dream"

Etcetera, etcetera on and on for the required hours to make you sleepy and out of the mood. It's like they have some kind of "mood-sensing radar".

Fast forward to the present. Late afternoon, your spouse gives you "that look". Whoopee! Tonight's the night!

Now, here's my question:

Do you give the children the adult dose of Benadryl at 6pm or 7pm ?

Meet the Family: Lintilla

2006-11-07T06:29:00.000-06:00

There is so much I could tell you about Lintilla, but I'll keep it short for now. She's 4 years older than me. In July of next year, we will have been married 20 years. Yes, we married in the Reagan administration. My Dad, who has never liked Lintilla, gave us six months. My brothers think I stayed with her all these years just to prove him wrong. They're wrong.

She was best friends with my best friend's girlfriend. They got tired of our whining, set us up, and created a Monster.

To tell you the most interesting thing about Lintilla, I'll first have to tell you a few things about me:

First, you have to know that I'm an attention hog. I've been in the music business as a struggling artist for 25 years. I've played before crowds of 5 and crowds of 500. I'm also a layspeaker (the Methodist Church's version of an amateur preacher). I've preached in small churches, and big churches. I'm also a writer, having been published here and there over the years. Everything I've done over the years appears like my main goal in life is to be recognized when Lintilla and I are out in public.

Well, that happens. Restaurants, WalMart, church functions, concerts, everywhere - people walk up to us and say "I know you!"

To Lintilla.

You see, Lintilla is a home hospice caregiver. And she doesn't treat it like a job, but a calling. She's not a nurse, but an aide, which means she takes care of the most basic needs of her patients, doing things many would call "gross". She always has a kind word as she helps people spend their last days in relative comfort and dignity.

If you've had a loved one die of a terminal illness in the Nashville area in the last few years, there's a good chance she's been in your home. Rich, poor, black, white, brown: her caring attitude never changes.

Oh, if you could only see the look in people's EYES as they recognize her! They walk up and hug her like one of the family. Sometimes, it seems like they don't want to let go. They look at me and say, "You've got a fine wife, here".

I know.

I've Never Been To Meme

2006-11-07T06:12:00.000-06:00

This is my first ever meme:

Top 5 Cheesy Songs on My Ipod:

5) Could It Be Magic - Barry Manilow (The piano geek in me loves this song).
4)Making Love Out of Nothing At All - Air Supply (They almost rocked on this one)
3) Seasons In the Sun - Terry Jacks (Ahh, nothing sets the mood for teenaged angst than a good death song!)
2) You Light Up My Life - Debbie Boone (30-something years of distance caused me to revisit this song from my youth. It's actually very well written)
1) Never Been To Me - Charlene (No comment)

Hold On, It's going to Be a Bumpy Ride!

2006-11-07T05:26:00.000-06:00

Election Day: No Poitics, None of the Time!

2006-11-06T20:35:00.000-06:00

Come here tomorrow for Shoot The Moose Election Day Madness!

No Politics. Very little seriousness at all.

I'm cramming for a corporate certification exam (in my world not passing costs money), but as time permits, I'll be posting ridiculous memes, jokes, observations, introduce you to my family, and who knows what else.

So, come on by tomorrow to escape the silliness with some REAL serious silliness.

A Note to the Ford Campaign

2006-11-06T07:07:00.000-06:00

If you call my house 3 times in one day, it means one of two things:

1) You're harrassing me, or
2) You need a new phone bank program.

I KNOW that Democrats have this inferiority complex about their "get out the vote" machine as compared to Republicans. Recent history says you have reason to be concerned.

But it's a very simple routine that can be added to the phone bank program to let multiple staffers know if a number has already been called. It also makes your GOTV campaign more effecient because you're not wasting time on ground you've already covered.

My freelance rates are quite reasonable.

Call me, Harold.

Sorry About That

2006-11-06T06:39:00.000-06:00

You ever have one of those days in church where you have a nagging little sin on your mind, and every single Bible verse, every single prayer, every single illustration in the sermon seems to be speaking directly to YOU? Well, I had one of those yesterday.

God is very good to me. Sometimes I deserve a kick in the butt instead of a gentle nudge, but the Lord gently tugs at my heart instead.

My temper tantrum on Friday was childish and uncalled for. Anybody that knows me knows that I abhor when Christians in the US act like victims, when the US is the most Christian-friendly country on the face of the earth.

One thing I am pretty sure of, Satan seems to do his best work in drive-time traffic. He found my button and he pushed it.

I apologise, for saying things I didn't mean, and for wasting anyone's time on Friday.

I will not take the original post down - I'll leave it as a reminder that I still have some growing up to do.

Tweaky Friday

2006-11-03T14:30:00.000-06:00

To the person in the Lexus who cut me off on White Bridge Road this afternoon:

I don't get your bumper sticker. Oh, I GET it, in that I understand what it says and the message it's trying to convey. What I'm trying to figure out is why the message was so important to you that you paid money for it, then potentially ruined the paint job on your expensive SUV.

All so you could tweak the sensibilities of any Christians that might be following you.

Why is it so important to you that I know about you that: I Was Born OK The First Time? I mean, as far as I know, there's no such thing as evangelical Atheism, or Buddhism, or Hinduism. So, if you aren't spreading your faith, or lack thereof, what exactly are you trying to do?

I don't get your bumper sticker any more than I get the Darwin Walking Fish. Do you get some kind of pleasure out of tweaking those ignorant Christians?

Why?

Aren't you secure enough in what you believe?

We'll leave for another day the discussion of why I see more cirle-and-line (meaning "No") W stickers on Lexuses and Range Rovers and BMWs and Mecedes Benzes than I do on old Caddilacs, or Tauruses or Chevy pickups. Party of the people, indeed.

But I really want to know why it's so important for you to get a rise out of Christians. Your answer will probably also give me an explaination as to why you cut me off.