"that's the way it was, and we liked it!"

two different people have told me this week that i am becoming an old man. since one of these illustrious individuals was my wife, i think there might be some truth to it.

so in honor of my prescient friends, and to blow of a little steam, i would like to share this little list. and to answer your question kid positive, i did shake my fist multiple times while typing this tirade. damn kids!

the world was a better place before:

• blogger mucked up my font size. their "updates" also converted my old school, unimaginative font type. i don't like it!


• major league baseball in florida


• the nhl invaded the confederate states


• cell phones. yes, all of them. no exceptions


• mochachinos, frappachinos and iced blueberry lattes


• reality television. mr. knight, i'm with rick on this one. reality t.v. is irredeemable trash


• simon cowell


• jerry bruckheimer


• nascar in new england


• plastic surgery


• the proliferation of suburban prostitution. girls, put away the skanky eighties skirts, the locust glasses and the baby tees and learn to cover your anorexic little asses


• cowboy troy
• mlb on fox


• wal-mart


• everything was made to break. i should be able to use my space heater or tape player for 24 hours a day for the 12 months it is under warranty. everything (with the possible exception of prophylactics) should be made for continuous use
• gene michael was named g.m. of the yankees


• budweiser ultra
• southwest airlines


• the moral majority, ralph reed and the republican right. the government, my dear friends, won't save you


• the democrats became cowards


• the proliferation of alternate home and road jerseys in the mlb. white at home, grey away. i want the cubs to wear pin stripes at home, the red sox to leave their batting practice jerseys in fort myers and the cardinals baby blues to remain in static display or team photos at the hall of fame


• karl rove
• the wiggles


• s.u.v.s


• robert deniro masqueraded as a comedian. the king of comedy he is not


• lindsay lohan


• i posted this list

dear readers, thank you for wasting precious minutes of your precariously short lives here. i would ask you to refrain from refuting my opinions, but such an assertion would be pointless. that being said, do not expect me to change my opinions. that’s the way it was and i liked it!

"this stage is a confessional, you kneel and then begin. yeah, you cross yourself those three times, and step into this skin." ~bill mallonee, anyside of anywhere

i've been trying to blog less at work. as much as i piss and moan about lifeway, i really love this place. who would want to loose such a golden opportunity to exploit ashley smith, pimp the purpose-driven life and commodify christ?

unfortunately such noble intentions will not keep one from sleep. blogging oftentimes will. so please allow me to piss on my commitment, crack my knuckles and pound the keyboard for a few.

confessions are funny things aren't they? it reminds me of the first time that i entered the confessional at parochial school. after father dan called me by name, reminded me of God's love and asked if there was anything that was keeping me from a full experience of God's love, i responded with a simple question: "is it true that i confess anything, from smoking pot to committing murder, and you can't tell a soul?" when he responded in the affirmative, i immediately confessed: "i was the second gunman on the grassy knoll." this admission didn't please father dan. in fact, i think it might have pissed him off. as i reflect on this incident thirteen years later i am embarassed about my irreverence and comforted by the fact that he couldn't tell.

all cheek aside, i think confession is good for the soul. i don't think you have to enter a penitential phonebooth to confess your brokenness, but you better get it done somehow. confession not only opens the door for forgiveness, it also strengthens our bonds with one another. what is most personal is most universal...indeed.

that's a long introduction to a brief confession. but, anyway, before God, you and servers throughout this great land i would like to confess that:

• i am much more materialistic than i would like to admit. late last week i accidentally emptied our checking account by overpaying our credit card bill by $975. as a result we have been counting pennies like never before and i have been fantasizing about purchases i wouldn't care less about if we had the cash. "DMB has a new album out, you have to get it," my mind insists. but, in more sane moments, i realize that their last two albums have been sub-par and when monied i have ignored the opportunity to purchase. "it's been a long week, you deserve another bottle of castle rock pinot noir," my tongue ecstatically spews. but, in reality i realize that my current desire to drink well and be the second coming of paul giamatti is going to be short lived.
  
• now that i'm ten minutes into this, i don't feel the least bit guilty about typing this at work. the convention demands and receives far too much of my sweet ass time anyway.
• when my friend josh recently reminded me that another member of our seminary squad still disliked me, it didn't bother me one bit. my whole life i have pissed 5-10% of the people in any given community off. my father once told me that sometimes when i say hello to people it sounds like "fuck you" (sorry for the curse mom. dad said it, i merely spelled it). he said this was a "gift," but i am beginning to suspect that he was being sarcastic. anyway...i have finally learned to accept that, for some reason, i am a stench in the nostrils of some people. i am finally ok with that. i am not and never will be a people pleaser. i cannot make everyone happy. i will do my best to love, serve and listen to others, but i will not try to untangle or reshape their interpretations of me.
• i ate a brown bear burger the other day. from what I heard, the bear who graciously provided our lunch was little more than a cub that just happened to be an inch over the required height limit. he tasted good. the rabbit breast, on the other hand, was filthy. there’s nothing like picking hair out of your cut of meat.
• i want to run a marathon someday and maybe write a book. but that's a secret, so don't tell.
• once, while working at orange julius, i blended a live cockroach into a customer's beverage. he was a hard-up twenty-something who was trying to seduce teenage girls at the mall. i offered him the drink free of charge and do not regret what i did.
• i would rather be ecstatic or depressed than anesthetized. yet my current emotional state could easily be characterized as the latter.
• i am the most unimaginative internet surfer ever. i visit about fifteen blogs a couple of times a day, hit cnn.com and pour over the articles at espn.com. nothing less, nothing more. exotic
  

i am beginning to think that the commonality of our sins leads to rather banal confessions. ladies and gentlemen of the jury, “exhibit A."

mid-morning time waster: (re) name that book

yesterday, lifeway was excited to receive our first shipment of james rutz's (rhymes with klutz) new book. however, since, as dr. kuzmic so cleverly noted, "mega shift" sounds far too similar to mega shit we have decided to (re) name the book in order to make it a little more family friendly.

feel free to submit a new name for this exciting new volume! lifeway's distinguished panel of judges will select one new name by the end of the business day and will award the winner with a limited edition poo dollar.



please note: this feature is produced in accompaniment with dr. james enterprises. all rights reserved.

hello jed. i'm sorry that it's been a while since i touched base. the more comfortable i get with people, the quieter i become. so consider my silence the sign and seal of our friendship.

i have been reading a number of intriguing books lately, including d.a. carson's becoming conversant with the emerging church, harry potter and the sorcerer's stone (for your information, i have not paired such fantasy reading with pewter figurines and role playing games. smart ass) and walter wangerin's book of sorrows. however, most of my reading time has been devoted to jean vanier's community and growth. but you probably already knew this.

anyway, as i was sitting on the beverly common on monday afternoon i stumbled across the following passage...

"tiny children live by love and presence - the time of childhood is a time of trust. adolescents live by generosity, utopian ideals and hope. adults become realistic, commit themselves and assume responsibilities; this is the time of fidelity. finally, old people refind the time of confidence which is also wisdom."

this is the time of fidelity. jed, i'm going to be honest with you, i've been mourning the death of ideals and dreams as of late. some of my dreams, such as the quest for theological certainty and my desire to play varsity baseball, died years ago, but their reverberations continue to pulsate through my chest. others, such as my desire for a meaningful occupation, are shriveling with each additional keystroke. i often find myself sentimentalizing the past, applying my twenty-twenty hindsight to past failure, longing to relive certain parts of my ever expanding life once again.

but i can't. those days are dead now and every 6 a.m. resurrection pushes me out into the present. so as utopian dreams drift away like dear brigadoon i am left only with an unfinished master's degree, a tedious life in a cube, the small band of unbelieving believers who consider me one of their own, a wife that is constructed of things eternal, and the poems, prose and apocalypses that serve as a guide to reality.

jed, i could spend all day flagellating myself with questions concerning my attempted entry into the citadel, why i sacrificed the experience of redemptive community on the altar of theological abstractions or whether i could have learned to "slow down the game" and utilize this slingshot God gave me. but such questions disassociate me from the present and lead me out of the moment.

the moment in which i am called to be faithful to my wife, responsible for this small band of unbelieving believers and a competent commodifier of our lord and savior jesus christ. you went too early jed, but at least you got to take your ideals and dreams with you. keeping your feet moving once those have dissolved is a bitch.

anyway, john tetzel just shot me a nasty look, so i better get back to work. as he and the upper management of lifeway are always reminding me, "every time a coin in the coffer rings, the soul from southern baptist purgatory springs." the time of fidelity. glamorous.