I've been thinking that I probably should get a family picture done soon. For some reason it feels weird to me. Ever since my divorce I haven't been able to bring myself to go get it done. Yes, I realize that my family is simply three strong at this point, but getting the picture of just me and the kids really feels strange.
I've thought about paying someone to sit in as my wife. When people see the picture in years to come, I'll just look down shaking my head and tell them I don't want to talk about it. Or I could see if they could CGI another me into the picture. Maybe one me on each side of the kids. It would create balance and symmetry and would reflect my awesomeness (I'm awesome enough for two people).
Ultimately, I'm sure I'll just sit in between the kids and smile.
I am going to see if I can get some of those ultra tiny prints. Just like the school kids, I'm going to carry them around and see if other adults will trade with me. I'll write cute little sayings on the back like:
Glad I got to know your family better this year. Have a sweet summer! You guys are my BFFs. We look SO dorky in this pic. LOL. Peace out, homey. Your family is 2 cool 2 be 4 gotten. This picture is SWAK! OMG my hair looks redonkulous! Your fam looks awesome.
So, my brother was hanging Christmas lights and fell off the roof. No joke. He was almost finished and was doing the last corner of icicle stringing. Somehow he slipped and fell from his second story roof onto the driveway. Now before you get too concerned, he's fine. He's actually perfectly fine. I have no idea how, but he is.
My brother says that as he started to fall some things went through his mind. First, was obviously he realized he had to try and grasp at anything to keep himself on the roof. Once that wasn't an option and he knew he was falling he said everything went to slow motion. He had the presence of mind to remind himself all the way to the ground that he needed to keep his head up and not let it hit. Also that he shouldn't extend any of his limbs to try and catch himself. He knew they would simply snap. So he lands on the driveway on his side. Sure his hip is sore and he scrapped his arm a bit, but he didn't break one single bone.
I'm reading a book right now by Deepak Chopra. The gist is all about mind control. Changing the timing of things. Seeing things slowed down or sped up depending upon the need. Major League Baseball players do this all the time. The see the pitch coming in slow motion (so they say). Some say they can even see the threads of the ball and know what type of pitch is being thrown. I'm lucky to even make contact at a batting cage. And that's pitched by a freakin robot throwing the same stupid pitch every single time. Ugh. Chopra explains that as we concentrate we can slow things things down. It's so true. If I think about every second as it passes, minutes seem like hours. If I pay no attention, I simply lose track and time passes me by.
I've purposed in my mind that I will begin to really focus on important times in my life. Not just live those times, but concentrate on them. Focus. Enjoy. The times with my kids, the times with my loved ones, the times with friends. I'm going to slow time down and watch the laces on the football as my son throws it at me.
If you've been around me for even just a minute you can probably tell that I love life. I have a blast every single day. Rarely am I in a bad mood at all and it never lasts long. Life is WAY too short for all that crap. Too short to be mad, or upset, or frustrated, or depressed. Too short to wish it away. Too short not to enjoy each and every second. My goal is to do a better job of controlling the speed of time in my mind just like my brother was able to do in that moment of desperation.
Oh, and I've decided that hanging Christmas lights is silly. Especially from the second story roof. This year I did as little Christmas decorating as possible. That's my house on the right.
I'm just not an animal guy. Let me rephrase that, I'm not a pet guy. I love animals. I would just much rather see them chopped up and put into a stew. Then I think animals are fantastic! When they're actually up walking around, I'm just okay with them. I'm not mean to them and I think it's wrong when people abuse them, but let's just say I'd much rather watch someone else's thoroughbred run around a track than actually have an animal pooping in my yard.
Pet people get a little offended when you don't like their pets as much as they do. I'm not sure I really understand that. I don't get offended when you carry around your small, wild animal in a tote bag and let it lick your tongue after you eat ice cream. It's your tongue. So please don't be offended when I don't make a fuss over your four-legged friend. I don't have to acknowledge your dog. I don't have to rub it's belly or talk baby talk to it. I don't have to let it jump on me or hump my leg. I don't even have to look it. It's okay.
I have neighbors that put their dog in a cage outside. Granted the cage is like 8x10 feet, but we are talking about an animal. I'm sure it would much rather just run, or chase things, or help the blind across the street. So inevitably, when they put this dog in the cage, it barks. It runs in circles and barks. For hours. Here's the thing. It's YOUR dog. If you want it, you need to listen to the barking. I don't want it and I don't want to listen to the barking. If I stood out in my front yard and yelled every 3 seconds for hours, I have a feeling someone would complain. People would think it's ridiculous. People would be pissed. But if it's a dog, they get a free pass. I've had two babies in my life (didn't physically give birth to them, but raised them). There were times when they got loud at restaurants, church, the mall, and everywhere else. I got mean looks and people were obviously annoyed by the infant's screaming. What did I do? Well, I promptly removed the child to somewhere only I had to listen to the screams. My baby, my problem. I think you see where I'm going.
I've complained about PETA before. I think I may have even questioned vegans and vegetarians before in my blogging. I think most of these people showy and hypocritical. After all, birthday cake candles have wax in them made from animal byproducts. How many of these same people use birthday candles? See. My point is, don't do things to be politically correct. Do things because you actually have conviction about it. And doing things halfway doesn't show conviction. It shows lack of commitment. If you don't believe in wearing fur, then you can't possible be okay with birthday candles, or wearing leather shoes, or all sorts of things. You're either in or you're out. But don't be offended at me when I don't share your half committed convictions.
And so before you ask, no I do not think your cat is adorable. I"m sure you love little Mrs. Wigglesworth, but I do not. And both of these are okay.
So many highlights from this one. The high kicks, the leg warmers, the hairspray. I feel like gay guys would watch this and say, "Wow are those dudes gay!" At about 1:00 you have to start watching the dark haired guy from the Teal team (sitting on the steps behind). He loves these competitions more than life. And then at the very end of the routine, check out the Black team on the steps. They immediately start discussing what they liked, what they disliked, and what was like totally awesome. Oh, and nothing says finale like the inevitable entrance of Alan Thicke.
The only thing better than this video would be this video set to some other crazy song. Something unrelated. That's right, Brad Wise, the challenge is there. I smell a mashup. Whatcha got? And don't suggest some damn firefly song.
Horatio Spafford was a successful lawyer in Chicago in the late 1800's. He ended up losing his son to sickness in 1871. Not long after, Mr. Spafford lost almost everything he owned in the Great Chicago Fire. As a result, Horatio and his wife, Anna, decided to journey to England to help out with some church ministry opportunities. I'm guessing they probably just needed to get away for a bit. Mr. Spafford got tied up in some last minute business and sent his wife and four daughters ahead, promising to join them shortly. The ship that his family was traveling on was struck by another vessel in the Atlantic and sunk within a matter of minutes. His wife was rescued but all four daughters were lost. Horatio Spafford received a telegram from his wife simply stating, "Saved alone...what shall I do?"
Wow. These are the times when people curse God. These are the times when people turn from God. These are the times that people question God. It's so easy for humans to second guess or wonder what God could possible be doing. Why does He take our loved ones? Why does He allow horrible things to happen to such good people? Why? Why? Why?
So what did Horatio Spafford do? Did he turn from God? Did he curse the day he ever decided to trust in the Lord? Not even close. Mr. Spafford jumped on a ship just as he promised. As he sailed across the Atlantic, someone brought him word that the ship was about to near the area where his precious daughters had been lost. At that moment, Spafford got out a some paper and began to pen his thoughts. Poetry that would later become lyrics. Here are the words he wrote as he wrestled with his deep emotions:
When peace like a river, attendeth my way, When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, It is well, it is well, with my soul.
It is well, with my soul, It is well, with my soul, It is well, it is well, with my soul.
Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, Let this blest assurance control, That Christ has regarded my helpless estate, And hath shed His own blood for my soul.
My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought! My sin, not in part but the whole, Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more, Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!
For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live: If Jordan above me shall roll, No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life, Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.
But Lord, 'tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait, The sky, not the grave, is our goal; Oh, trump of the angel! Oh, voice of the Lord! Blessed hope, blessed rest of my soul.
And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, The clouds be rolled back as a scroll; The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, Even so, it is well with my soul.
Horatio Spafford's words are so powerful. So incredible. They contain such peace and contentment and yet come from a place of sorrow and despair. Mr. Spafford can teach us a lot. His faith is definitely hard to match. How many of us deal with problems so much smaller and yet don't display even a fraction of his faith? We question God. We curse God. We turn from God. Horatio Spafford instead moved even closer to God. And because of his faith, we are left with one of the greatest hymns of all time. His words minister to us, even today.
I lived in Springfield, Missouri for several years. For being in the middle of nowhere, it's actually a delightful place. It's a college town. Last I heard, Springfield boasts of over ten different colleges or universities. There are a ton of places to shop, bunches of movie theaters and countless places to eat. There's even a restaurant right outside of town always featured on the Food Channel's best places to eat special. Lambert's Cafe is indescribable. Though not a buffet, it's all you can eat everything. It's like Cracker Barrel on steroids. And to top it all off, they throw the rolls at you. No really, they do.
Rumor has it that the American version of cashew chicken originated in Springfield. I'm not sure if that's true, but you can't drive by a Chinese place there without seeing cashew chicken featured on the marquee. I've also heard that Springfield has more Chinese restaurants per capita than any other U.S. city. That, I believe. They literally are everywhere.
Now I've mentioned eleventy billion times how much I despise racism. It's a sore subject with me. I don't get it and I never will. At the same time, I recognize there are definite difference among the races. We obviously don't look the same. We don't always eat the same. We may not smell the same. And we definitely don't sound the same. That's okay. It makes us unique and gives us a sense of individualism. I love that and I embrace it. And I love when other people embrace it too. We don't have to pretend. I don't have to act like my hair is anything like my African American friends' hair. I don't have to act like I speak exactly like Chinese Americans.
Mr. Wong's Chinese Restaurant in Springfield, Missouri is one such place that embraces differences. I distinctly remember calling Wong's to place my first to go order with them. The obviously Chinese voice on the other end of the phone says, "Uh, you got the Wong number."
Brilliant.
I always gave Wongs props for embracing differences and using it to their advantage. They also had ad campaigns like Chicken Done All Wong and Why Can't We All Get A Wong? That's good stuff.
I think the sooner we all get comfortable in our own skin, whether it be brown or white or olive or whatever, the better off we will be. Let's just relax and have fun with our differences. After all, have you ever heard Dave Chapelle's white guy voice? Man, I love that!
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