America the Beau...um...

... Let's leave it at America

Why is it that that in the U.S. when holidays like memorial day and July fourth come around people loose all sense of fasion and dignity. Why is it ok for two or three days a year to throw caution to the wind, dress like a complete fool, and blame it on the veterans who have paved the way to freedom.

Seriously I don't think it makes my grandfather (a WWII veteran) any happier to se you wearing a Flag shaped pin with lights that blink incesantly. And I know that the giant eagle that is spread across your home made poly-cotton pants isn't making anyone's day.

Listen I'v done it two, when I was 14, I dressed in a red shirt and blue sweat-pants. Where's the white you ask? Let's just say I wasn't a boxer man on that particular day. The sad part is no-one stopped me.

So to all the geriatric generals of the fasion fopaux I salute you. Thank you for making red white and blue americas most un-sightly color combination, thank you for showing respect for others by losing it for yourself. Mr & Ms Gauty clothes and tacky jewelry on patriotic holiday wearers, we honor you today.

j.

"Charachter" Flaws

a dinner in life of someone else, while still being yourself.

On Wed. evening two friends and I went out for dinner. We decided to play a little game. Next time your out with a small group of friends, you should try it out.
It is by far the cheapest way to get dinner and a show. The two people to your right get to pick a name for you and whoever is at the table creates the backstory. The guy and girl I was eating with were "a young couple who recently got engaged, and will be getting married this weekend. I am the college buddy who has come down for the wedding.

The rest each charichter gets to fill his or her own details in as the other charichters ask leading questions. "Do you still race lawn tractors on the weekend Jim?" ... "No way not after I tore my ACL in Daytona." The key is to stay away from being yourself as much as possible i.e. if one charachter asks another what he or she does for a living, try not to answer by telling what you actually do, make up something completely different, but not necessarily rediculous.

The Object of the game is to see who can go the longest without breaking charachter.
There are two ways to play, either from the time the drinks come until the food is on the table or you can start when the food comes and finsih once you recieve the check.
Either way you keep track of how many times you drop the charachter (i.e. lauging at in oportune moments, saying the wrong name, or answering a question as yourself and not the charachter). The person with the least "Charachter Flaws" wins and the other people buy him or her dinner or pay for part of the meal. (You can just play for fun)

Hawiian Son

In a building usually buzzing with activity I now sit alone in front of this glowing screen. The union is empty tonight save one occupant whose mind is distracted by many thoughts and contemplations. There are assignmetns to be written and research to be done, instead I sing songs to myself to drown out ambient noise of the silence that surrounds me. I am accompanied by the symphonic sounds of computer fans and the percussive rythem of my fingers on the keyboard.

It will be four years this week since the motorboat of death created a wake the that nearly overturned the small craft of innosence on this lake of existence. Four years since I sat in that living room with the ones whose lives he touched so deeply. The obituary said he left behind three sons, this was not necessary I had no birth right to this title not as the other two who carried his last name and his blood-line. Reguardless in his heart he adopted me, and I him. In those four years I have fought against feelings of anger toward God and abandonment, I have dealt with breakdowns and nightmares, and I have had to overcome a fear of relational dissapointment. Wounds have turned to scabs, and scabs picked into scars, but much healing has occured.

Las weekend I sat in that same living room with his portrait over my right shoulder with someone very special to me. Someone who has helped me overcome my fears and who cares about me in spite of them. She was able to meet some of those whose lives he touched, namely his wife and daughter, and she was able to understand me just a touch more.

To the man who called me son, the tall Hawiian in the flip flops, the one who shared with me his love for making music, and making people smile I say thank you. You are missed and remembered and I love you. To the girl echoes of the same.

It has been four years since the wake of death shook my little boat but my boat is not so little any more and with the help of the Lord even the greatest storm will be but a small tempest in journey. I love you Lord, and thank you for being my father.

Destination II (the sequel)

My destination was the beach...

My dream of waves and shore will be postponed a bit longer it seems.
The privelage of responsibility brings the voice of accountability and this voice advised against the plans for this week. Submission is not always easy but is always blessed. Instead a girl and I will go to NH and see my parents. Instead of the ocean we will wach the current of the mighty Pemiguwasset River; Instead of sand there will be the rolls and peaks of the White Mtns. It will be a good time I am sure.

So now as goodbyes stand in lue of good times I am dissapointed, but not all together broken, with yesterdays frustration comes todays opportunity. And the confidence that there is wisdom in a multitude of counselors. The comfort of know the weight of the decision is not on your own shoulders is peacful.

Who is this girl? you ask.
This is a wonderful girl who has come to be very special to me. One who knows my past, and is still interested in my future. One is learning to trust someone who doesn't like to trust anyone. A special girl who is quite attractive in spirit, body, and mind (don't press me on the order ok. This has dragged on long enough I'm sure and for those of you who don't know I'm sorry this is how you found out.

Here it is CFC gossip topic of the week (or maybe I'm conceeded and yall [yes I said yall] don't really care) at any rate...I have entered a courting (dating) relationship with Ms. Kelly Berg. There I said it, and no it wasn't easier than I thought.

I'm sure the whole story (and trust me it's a long one) will come out in post form sooner or later. (If you care)Love you guys. Pray for us.

j.

edit:
I realized the above post was more informational and less ML style so here is an addendum;
Packing, I hate packing, almost as much as I hate laundry. So now my little greay duffle bag which I'v had since second grade is stuffed with four days worth of already worn (dirty has connotations that are to negative) clothes, an electric toothbrush with a dead battery (i'll fix it eventually) a few of those midgit (i'm sorry little person) sized tolitries which by the way are a huge rip off, but we buy them any way saying that its a one time investment and that we can reuse the container which I'm sure we all know will end up in some relatives trash or in the shower of the Dallas Holiday Inn Express, either way your out one bottle of mini pert plus (pert minus is more like it). Headphones for the plane because I hate the ones they give you that remind me of my playschool stelhescope, you know the yellow and blue one with the red ear phones. Sooooooo uncomfortable. There we go ten min. of my life in a bag, I'm ready to go. Packing ugh!