Didn't most of us think that we'd have flying cars and moon colonies by 2010? I know I did. In that realm, I remain a bit disappointed, but I do have one ray of hope on the horizon.
The Martin Aircraft Company finally made a jet pack available to the general public. Here's a few facts from the Huffington Post story updated Feb. 25th of this year......
The Martin Aircraft Company has created the first jetpack that will be commercially available, the Daily Mail reports.
The company's chief executive, Richard Lauder, expects the jetpacks will be sold to a variety of different buyers--from emergency service personnel and private users to the military.
Its fuel capacity is five gallons, but its consumption is ten gallons an hour, which results in an operation time of around 30 minutes on a full tank. FAA regulations limit the maximum speed to 63 mph, which means the furthest a pack can travel on one tank is about 31.5 miles. When empty, the Jetpack weighs 250 pounds and can carry a pilot of over 280 pounds.
The jetpack complies with FAA Ultralight Regulations, and though users will not need a pilot's license to fly the equipment, they will be required to complete Martin's training program before receiving their jetpack. Training for the first ten owners will be held in New Zealand, where the company is headquartered.The company intends to manufacture 500 packs a year and sell them for 50,000 pounds (around $76,000) each.
So here's where I start talking.
Remember when VCR's first came out in the late 1970's? How about the Panasonic NV-9300 U-Matic VCR? Cost New: $5,000 Cost today: $30
Remember when DVD players first came out? Prices for the first players in 1997 were $1000 and up. I bought one in 2001 for $300. Now? $30
I bought my first CD player in 1991. I paid $120 for it. Today, you can buy the same thing for $15.
You can see where I'm going with this, right? My prediction is that in about ten years, the jet packs will be the price of an inexpensive car, and wayyyyy better than the one that just came out.
To my way of thinking, technology gets a little cheaper every year, and competition always drives the market to produce better products for less money. Remember when Hyundai's were a joke? Nobody's laughing now, man. Look at Kia Motors, too.
Now imagine you can buy a jet pack for what you'd pay for a base-model Kia. My call? 10 years away, man.
As of late I'm not sure how much I like blogging. I'm starting to wonder if I lived my life without broadcasting everything I've ever thought or done. There are a few pro's to this:
A) no unsolicited criticism B) no stress resulting from unsolicited criticism C) not having to listen to folks talk about the unsolicited criticism
I suppose part of the bad taste in my mouth is a result of feeling like when I talk I'm getting feedback I don't like, and don't really have to put myself into a position to hear. Truthfully, it'd be easy to just shut off the comments for this, which is an awful temptation lately. I have to confess that I think I'd like to make whatever decisions I'd like to make without having to hear about what others think of them from time to time. I think part of it is that I think part of being an adult is that eventually, you're only accountable to yourself, and few others that you select as having the right to hold you accountable based on your relationship with them. I think there's a source of irritation in folks trying to hold you accountable when it's not their place of their business, especially when it doesn't have any tangible effect on them whatsoever.
I know I've made comments like this before, especially concerning money. It's very, very easy for somebody else to tell you that you are only to spend money on the bare necessities when you're badly in debt, and not to indulge yourself in any "luxury" items or anything special for yourself. And, to an extent, I agree. If I were out racking up thousands or dollars in credit card debt or driving a car I can't afford or spending every penny eating out at nice restaurants every night, I'd agree. But if among the money I'm spending on keeping us afloat and get us out of debt I want to drop a few bucks on myself, my wife, or my kid - or- to try to build my credit back up I don't want to hear about it.
In a way, I feel like a guy who eats cookies before dinner because he wants to and because he can, and he knows that if he ruins his appetite, there will be another appetite later on. (Jerry Seinfeld said something like that - I thought it was funny.)
I also feel like I've been putting a lot of pressure on myself to be financially responsible for a long time, and if I want to enjoy my life a little I don't want to hear about it because somebody doesn't agree with it. Seriously - I'm 37, man.
I mean, don't most people just live their lives in basic anonymity and relative obscurity and really, nobody knows 99% of what really goes on except for them, their spouse, and maybe their kids? Hell - I have no idea whatsoever about what's going on in the lives of most of you guys, and only a slight to fair idea about what's going on in the lives of my fairly close friends.
And this is all unrelated to my recovery stuff, too. That's going fine - no worries there. One of the things that keeps me spooked is that I know that if I fell off the wagon now, it'd be really bad, and don't want to lose 768 days, man. It's not worth it, and I don't want to have to go back to my accountability brothers and tell them I fell off the wagon. and let's face it, generally when I fall off, I hit the ground hard enough to form a crater. No thanks.
On another note, I would like to point out that we went to Razoo's and left happy. Razoo's has never disappointed me, and I salute them for it.
For the last week or so, I've been trying to avoid french fries. I've only eaten them three times in the past week. I'm cutting way down on sodas, too. I'm trying to drop some weight and eating crap all the time isn't going to help.
OK - that's it. I feel like this was kind of disjointed, but I'm getting rusty at writing, and I'm not practicing every day like I used to. I don't know if that's good or bad, I guess, but right now I kind of like it.
Tomorrow I think I'm going to write about jet packs. I guess.
Lat night we thought we'd go eat at Chili's. I was sorely disappointed in my experience, and I think I'm done with Chili's. The worst part? That I went back after I had the same experience last time.
Gripe #1: The raised their prices. A rack of baby back ribs + two sides? Just shy of $17. You know who has better ribs than Chili's? A LOT of people, man. Riskey's, Coulter's, Rudy's, Al's, Dickey's, Red, Hot & Blue - you get the idea, right? None of these places has the stones to charge that much. A burger and fries? $9. Get over yourself, man.
Gripe #2: The cross-promotion with Shiner Bock beer is overwhelming. I get that you use Shiner Bock Beer in your BBQ sauce and in your burgers. You don't have to mention Shiner Bock in some iteration on every single page. It's annoying, man.
Gripe #3: You changed the menu and removed a lot of things that we liked to eat. The Fajita Pita, for one. Toni liked those. I get that you are trying to stay abreast of eating "trends" and that Brinker International has spent thousands in market research to determine what people like to eat, but you guys are making the same mistake that Bennigan's made - you're giving up on the stuff that made you famous and built the client base that you depend on.
Gripe #4: Quality control. Braums has a better chicken sandwich than you do. Know why? They put a bigger piece of chicken on the bun, man. It's not rocket science. And the "world famous" burgers? Dry and unremarkable, man. Really forgettable stuff.
Gripe #5: Waitstaff. Your servers are insincere and follow a script instead of interacting with us as real people. Here's how it goes every time:
"Hi! Welcome to Chili's. My name is ___________ and I'll be taking care of you tonight. Can I start you guys off with (insert focus item being marketed this week)?"
While I acknowledge that suggested selling and upselling is a tried and true method of increasing your businesses per capital income, when it comes across as the sales ploy that it is, the overwhelming barrage of being marketed to it becomes irritating and offensive. Instead, try training your staff to treat and interact with your customers like human beings instead of ATM machines. I know Brinker International has developed these sales strategies and has an extensive track record of making them "work", thereby increasing the restaurants profit margin, the stock price of Brinker stock, etc. but, man - I for one have had enough of being marketed to when I go to a restaurant. Jeebus, man - I just want to eat, ya know?
I may go back for the Chocolate Molten Cake, but if I find someplace else that sells it I'm gone for good.
Toni and I are stressed, but we're going to work through it. Please keep all advice to yourself, as what feels like a constant stream of unsolicited input is a frequent contributor to that stress. Toni got screwed out of a date night tonight, but I'm going to make it up to her tomorrow.
I had another tattoo idea - : MOLON LABE
From the internet (a reliable source, right?)
The Greek phrase Molōn labe! (Μολὼν λαβέ; approximate Classical Greek pronunciation [molɔ̀ːn labé], Modern Greek [moˈlon laˈve]), meaning "Come and take them!" is a classical expression of defiance reported by King Leonidas in response to the Persian army's demand that the Spartans surrender their weapons at the Battle of Thermopylae.
Molon labe has been recently used in the 2007 feature film 300 in which Leonidas speaks this famous line in English in response to "Spartans! Lay down your weapons!" as "Persians! Come and get them!"
I think I like this one as well, even though it's been adopted by a lot of gun nuts (probably because it's cool). I was recently informed that I'm a gun nut, so apparently that's something I need to acknowledge and make my peace with. I have no intention of getting "cured" from that one.
Anyway, I think that's it for tonight. Toni made dinner, and we have more work to do tonight. Odd how much emphasis I put on work, huh? I put it before my wife and kid, even. I hate to think that I learned that, but I have no other excuse.
I mean, is it wrong to put work in front of your family? Probably.
Is that God's will for me - to damage the relationship with my wife so I can get more work done? I doubt it.
Will I lie on my deathbed and wish I had worked harder? God - I hope not.
Will focusing on work (and really, let's call it what it is: the result of work, which is money) add joy to my life of the life of my wife and daughter? Nope.
Is this one of the reasons that God says that then love of money is the root of all eavil? I imagine so.
Am I doing it still? You bet.
Is it a learned behavior; something that's a part of my core belief system? Yep.
Is this a problem? Like say, a characher defect, something that I might need to address before it damages my life to such an extent it starts hurting my family? I don't want to answer that one, so it probably is.
Want to know a reason I don't want to acknowledge it? I think I learned this behavior from my Dad, this working. And a bit part of what's wrong with that is my tendency (in fact, a complete and concious willingness) to push my wife as hard as I push myself, and that's wrong. Will I have to admit to msyelf that maybe Dad was wrong on this one? Maybe so, man, and I don't want to do that. That's a hard thing for me to do, not only because I want my dad to be right about everything, but because it means that I have another layer of shit I have to fix on my own; another core value that I need to change, and that's tough, man.
Huh. I didn't think I'd end up here. I just wanted to write about Chili's.
After several years of exhaustive research, I have determined a time frame during which you are completely, 100% safe to sleep.
See - when I was a little kid, occasionally I'd get scared of "monsters" or whatever, particularly after seeing a scary movie. while watching the clock, I knew that if I could make it to dawn I'd be fine. However, after much thought, experimentation & practical experience, I have determined that monsters, ghosts, devils, and any other assorted nocturnal creepers that require you to hide under the covers are only active during the following hours:
12:00 AM - 5:00 AM
You are also safe under the following circumstances;
A) You parents are still awake (they're up later than you) B) The morning paper has arrived C) You are protected by some sort of religious talisman (Bible, cross necklace, Amy Grant tape)
This rule also applies to such threats as Zombies and Home invaders; though the latter operates earlier in the evening. Home Invasion hours are from 6:00 PM - 5:00 AM. Zombies can't tell time.
Anyway, that is all.
This public safety message has been brought to you by Direct TV, Glock, and the cross you can look through and read the Lord's Prayer- great for Easter, graduations and birthdays.
763
Monday, March 22, 2010
Well, as much as a political ignoramus as I am, I do have a gripe with the health care bill, and that's that the government is forcing me to buy something I am choosing not to get on my own. Know why I'm choosing to go without health insurance right now? I can't afford it.
Insurance is a gamble, man - and as of late I'm choosing to bet on myself. I resent the government forcing me to spend money on something I've chosen to go without until such a time as *I* think I can afford it.
That's my personal gripe - I haven't even gotten into the messes that it's likely to cause with the healthcare system in general. Hell - the government couldn't even run Walter Reed Hospital - how on earth do they think they'll be able to run the entire health care system?
-> hops off soapbox
I've had a personal crisis as of late. I've wanted an M4 rifle for about five years, and now that I have the opportunity to get one, I don't feel like I have an emotional need for it anymore. It's not going to really do anything for me - it's not going to fill some kind of need or fill a hole in my heart or anything like that, so now I don't know what to do or how to feel about it. I mean, there's certainly other (and to many, better) things I could do with my money, but I haven't really splurged on anything for me or Toni in a long time, and it'd be for both of us, 'cause Toni likes to shoot, too. I don't like the thought of not having a rifle that I can hit with at 500 yards. My Dad has a great .30-06, but the front sight is a thin blade and it's hard for me to see. Maybe a rifle with some kind of optical sight would be cool.
I don't want to eat french fries anymore. As of late, I can't stand the thought of consuming them. Today we went to Jack-in-the-Box for lunch and I couldn't stand to get any fries, so I had a burger and tacos a la carte. It was wonderful. Tonight we had steak, and instead of fries we made mashed potatoes. I think it's the fried aspect of it. Lately all I've been wanting to eat is Chinese food anyway. Oh - and I dumped out half of my Dr. Pepper, too. I'm getting to where I can't hack sodas anymore, too. All I want to drink is water and tea. What is becoming of me? I'm hoping my body is starting to take a more proactive role in my losing some weight by changing my taste buds. I have no idea if that's possible or not, but it's a nice thought.
Yesterday there was snow on the ground when we woke up. Today it was warm and sunny. Texas weather is so weird.
I friend of ours brought over some mint chocolate chip ice cream a few weeks ago for lunch. We didn't eat it at the time because we were too stuffed with lunch, and its been sitting in the freezer ever since because I don't want to eat it without our friend with us - it seems in bad form, though the longer it sits in the freezer the less and less concerned I am about manners and the more concerned In become about eating it. What is the proper decorum for this?
Anyway, that's it for tonight. I'm gonna make some tests.
760 for Monday
Thursday, March 18, 2010
The summer we drove to Lubbock we stayed at a hotel with a large conference center located in the center of the hotel. On Saturday morning, we walked out of our 3rd story room to see a conference of sorts in progress, as there were nearly 300 businessmen sitting at breakfast tables eating. The only noises we could hear were murmured conversations and the clink of forks against plates. This was too good an opportunity not to pass up.
As Nate and I stood to watch the scene unfold, Brandon took the glass elevator to the 5th floor. Upon exiting the elevator, Brandon took a few steps to his right and stood at the half-wall. He spread his arms wide, took a deep breath and cried out, in a very loud, clear and resonant voice:
"This is my land, and these.... these are my people."
The conversation below us stopped cold as 300 professional, white-collar workers stared blankly up at him. Brandon, completely unfazed, strode purposefully back to the glass elevator, where, devoid of anyplace to hide, he turned his back to the audience and put his hands proudly on his hips. He rode the elevator back down two full floors and walked back to our room without looking - not even once - at the confused crowd below. Nate and I collapsed in giggles and crawled below the half-wall back to our room. We never found out what anybody that heard him thought, but we thought it was funny.
Hah - that wasn't long to type at all.
I passed off two of my shifts at the theater to work on our little home business. I've got something else working, but I don't think I can bring it up at the moment. I'll let you guys know what's up as soon as I can, but now 's a bad time.
I'm calling it a night, guys. I have a LOT tests to make in the morning. Tomorrow it's supposed to be in the high 70's, and they're calling for snow the next day. I thought my wife was joking, but alas - she was not. Seriously - snow?
757 for Friday.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Occassionally, we tend to forget how easy we have it, especially in the states. Compared to over 99.999 % of the entirety of the earth's all-time population, we live better than royalty.
Every once in a while, we get a reminder of it.
Toni got this a few days back - it's from her Twitter feed. I removed anything that would identify any of the senders, but I left the messages. The dichotomy struck me as pretty powerful. I'll let the picture says the rest.
You guys give thanks today, OK?
And now, some famous Ian's..........
Ian Malcom (sorta) - cool character guy from book & movie
Ian Fleming - author
Ian McDiarmid - actor
Scott Ian - musician
Ian McKellan - actor
Bronco is fixed & set up almost as well as my old truck was. Next step....maybe a radio that stays on. Then maybe new door panels, or a new dashboard top, as mine looks like it was used to cover a grenade.
Tomorrow is the busiest day of the year at the theater: 50-cent Tuesday, Spring Break. It'll be a zoo, with a very cheap admission.
You guys know what I miss? I miss having a pager. I think if I could get a pager and only give the number to like three people I'd ditch my cell phone altogether. You guys remember when you could get 'em for like $20 and then service was like $3 a month? Happy times, man.
Toni's still completely wiped out, so I did the errands for today. I was hoping for temperatures in the 70's, but I didn't get 'em.I think poor Toni will be happy if her temperature goes back to the 90's where it belongs. I'm feeling better, except the crud I had seems to have migrated south into my chest and is forcing me to hack it back up incrementally. I dislike coughing and having a sore throat, but it beats vomiting. Can you imagine how nasty the world would be if we all puked instead of coughing? Sometimes you have to keep in in perspective, man. It could always be worse.
Any of you guys get Netflix? We got the movie "Hancock", sat on it for over a month and never watched it. Does that ever happen to you guys? We got "P.S. - I Love You" a few nights ago. Man - that one's a tear-jerker. It was mostly Toni sitting on the couch crying, and me trying desperately not to join her. The next one is "I'm Gonna Get You Sucka", which could not be further in the opposite direction.
Well, I already ran out of stuff to say. I was gonna tell a story about Brandon, wasn't I? Man - those take a long time to type. But this one is pretty funny, so I'll get on it tomorrow.
Have an Adam Ant (this one is for Toni). I hope you feel better soon.
Estimated number of burgers I've eaten in the past 20 years: 4,160
Tonight I made Toni a hot buttered rum. I was impressed with it - it smelled good. My bartending skills are improving.
There's an ad on TV where a guy talks about how he's a shrimp blogger. It's a Taco Bell ad so I don't give it a whole lot of credibility, but if simply being a blogger makes you an expert on anything we live in a pitiful world.
I'm trying to bring midnight movies to the theater I work at. I'm taking a poll among the staff to see what movies they think would be good choices. So far, the front runners are (in no particular order):
- Pulp Fiction - Raiders of the Lost Ark - Star Wars (Episode 4, 1977) - Ghostbusters - Aliens - The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly - Rocky Horror Picture Show - Fight Club - Back to the Future - The Big Lebowski
You guys chime in, willya? I need the opinions of people who don't work at a theater. We "movie people" think we know it all.
Tomorrow I'm gonna work on my truck, 'cause I can. I had a truck once before - it was a '79 Dodge D-50, and I loved it. I had it set up completely, 100% the way I wanted it, until the engine burned out. I'm gonna do that again.
You know what I really want? I want takedown lights and an arrow-stik. I was thinking that they'd be useful if I ever decided to just drive around and help whomever I saw stuck on the side of the road, especially at night. If I had my way I'd carry around a few gallons of gas in a steel can, along with some jumper cables, my big 'ol truck jack, & a few other things. I think I'd do that as a profession if I could make a living at it. Or maybe I'll just drive around as a hobby, helping people. I do it when I can, anyway. Wouldn't it be cool to have a truck specifically decked out just for that purpose, and also for zombie whacking?
Anyway, that's it. I had more stuff I was going to write about, but for the life of me I really can't remember what any of it was.
Well, I got sick and missed a few days. I haven't been really sick since New Years' of 2007 ( I think), and then I get sick - twice - within a week. Ugh - I hate being sick. Mad props ('cause I can talk all cool) to Toni for taking such good care of me while I was out these past three days. I'm such a baby when I'm sick - even moreso than usual.
And, as further proof that no good deed goes unpunished, she caught the same nose/throat/fever/dry hacking cough I had. I'm hoping she gets well very quickly, as she has plans to hang out with her friend this week.
I haven't touched my computer for more than a few moments for the past 72 hours, and I don't think I miss it all that much. I also haven't slept past 10 AM all week and haven't gone to bed later than 12:30 or so. Steps in the right direction. Toni has been responding to all the business e-mails and running the company while I've been laid up. Such a pro, man.
The starter solenoid went out in the Bronco, but it's a easy fix. I must've gotten a bad part. Fortunately, I have the receipt, and it'll be back running tomorrow.
While I've had a long-standing grudge against getting tattoos in a foreign language, I'm leaning heavily to getting this:
ἐλευθερόω
It's Greek, which I never expected, but the Greek conveys the message better than the English does. I'm going to have to find it in completely 100% accurate Greek though, and be sure that it's done correctly, in the right direction, and in the right context. I need to get it done quick, too, because summer is coming up and you can't swim for several weeks afterwards. I don't want to be left out of anything fun, ya know?
I guess that's about it, other than I probably ought to mention something about the deleted post. I think I've come the the point in my life where I just don't need or want advice on how to live my life anymore unless I ask for it. I'm 37, and while I don't have a perfect track record for making the best decision every time, I'm old enough to get a tattoo if I want to. If I need marriage advice, I'll ask.
Anyway, that's it.
752, for Sunday.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Man - busy day. I just go back from screening "Up in the Air" - good movie, man.
I got up early today and replaced the starter (and the starter solenoid) on the Bronco today. Fires up like a champ, man. Did 'em both in under an hour, too, though I got a tad wet because it rained this fine morning. I think that car is a metaphor for my life in some way -Ii'm gonna have to noodle on that.
I left the bar tonight. They seemed sorry to see me go, and I can go back if I ever need to. Here's hoping I never need to, huh? I'm going to miss the people I worked with (and letting my friends in for free, along with al the club "perks"), but not 99% of clients, the crappy hours, the low pay of the possibility of getting my ass pounded. 37 is too old to be fighting "swole" (that means "juiced", or having the appearance of moderate to heavy steroid; "musclehead") MMA wannabe douchebags, man - it just is. I carry a gun so I don't have to fight those people.
Toni's been in a funk the past day or so; I hate it when I can't snap her out of it.
I asked this question on another forum but I'll ask it here, too: it's a verbal challenge for you guys. Ready?
I need the following sentiment condensed into one word: "do not allow yourself to become enslaved or controlled"; or a reminder to not submit to to to be conquered by fear or anxiety, or that I'm not a slave to such things.
Might there be a Latin or a Greek or Hebrew phrase for this?
I found out that I will more than likely be unable to qualify for a home loan for the next 4-5 years. Apparently, a short sale is the same thing as a foreclosure to lenders. That would have been good information to beforehand. Had I known it would have trashed my credit as bad as a foreclosure I'd have just walked away from it instead of trying to do the "right" thing and turn it back over gracefully and legally. No good deed goes unpunished, huh?
This leaves us with three options, as I see it.
1) Stay here for 4-5 years. 2) Find a way to move that doesn't depend on a credit score. 3) Pay cash.
I don't know what's going to happen.
Today I had an opportunity to surrender all of this to God and I didn't take it. I reacted badly, man - really badly. Nice going on my "turning it al over to God", huh? It took me like 12 hours to blow that one. I want to say that I'm going to do better tomorrow, but I don't know what's going to happen.
I feel like I failed, that I let my family down again. I feel ashamed that I'm not able to provide a place for them to live on my own merit. I feel like I can't earn it on my own, and that's demoralizing. I feel like I'm a poor leader, and somewhat of a failure, and that I'm never going to make it or get my act together, whatever those things mean. I can hear the words of my ex-wife in my head - her saying "you just can't get your act together." Tonight I feel like I'm just doing a good job of proving her right one more time, and that my daughter is going to grow up thinking her father is a fool.
I think tomorrow I'm going to go find another therapist. I'm having problems controlling my temper as of late. I think I'm going to quit the bar, too. If I'm able to snap and twist off like I have been as of late, I don't want to take the risk of doing it at work where somebody might get hurt. I think if I actually hurt another person out of anger or because I couldn't control my temper that would stay with me for a very long time. I can use the time to work some extra hours at the theater or work on more family business stuff. I think it might be less stress if I stop working there, too. It makes it hard to sleep and harder to wake up. I was getting tired of the patrons anyway, and more easily angered.
Toni and I are having some problems I can't talk about here without violating her privacy or being disrespectful, so I'm hoping a therapist can help me with those as well. I can say that it's my issue(s), not her's, and it has nothing to do with anybody else in any way whatsoever, and I'm not lying about that - I wanted to be very, very clear on this one. I think it's recovery-related, but I don't know how to fix it.
I was thinking today about something that I'd like to do but I don't know how to do it, or when I'd have time to. I was thinking that I'd like to either write (or, more accurately, arrange) a few songs for drum corps. Mostly chorales, which are slow, flowing, melodic pieces with deep, resonating, powerful chord structures. They're usually used for warm-ups and tuning, but man - do crowds (and I) love them. I had a few I'd like to hear done, but so far nobody I know has done them. How cool would it be to hear something you did played by musicians in the venue that you value the most?
Anyway, that's it, other than to reply from the response from yesterday. Granbury is too far from the higher level (larger) theaters that I need to cling to to make the most money. For example, I would get paid more working at a larger theater in a larger market than I would working the same job (albeit on a smaller scale) at a smaller (lower level) theater. Imagine making the drive from Grandbury to say....Plano, in a truck that gets 10 miles to the gallon. That is (well, was) the main consideration, at the moment. Not that it matters a lot for a while, huh?
I think I need to back off those who don't blog as often as I'd like 'em to. I've totally slacked this week. I'll catch you guys up the past several days.
Tuesday, Wednesday & Thursday: short mini-vacation to check out jobs, property & scenery in Stephenville, Granbury & Glen Rose. I bought a small shovel, a t-shirt and a cowboy hat. Granbury and Glen Rose are nice, but I think they're too far away and I don't think Stephenville is the town for us.
Thursday, Friday & Saturday (AM): Horrific gastroenteritis, which meant grasping the toilet seat for three days to prevent violently lifting off. I gave up trying to use toilet paper and resorted to just showering several times a day. Better diarrhea than vomiting, though.
Saturday (PM): Weakness
Sunday: Church, a delicious lunch with a dear friend & our daughter, and an easy shift at the theater, minus the fact that I had to fire one of my favorite employees. She cried - it was sad.
No bar work all weekend (which was nice), and I missed two days at the theater.
Now that that's all out of the way, here's where I am today.
I realized today that as much wind as I talk about putting all my faith and security in God, if you look at my life I'm putting it all in my finances. I am - I admit it. I realized that my mood, and about 90% of my serenity and a just about all of the happiness I actually feel is directly tied to my bank account, and if it's not where I think it should be, I tend to be miserable, irritable, grouchy, temperamental and not as nice ot my wife as I need to be. It causes me untold stress, anxiety and grief.
This is a sorry, sorry way to live my life. Now....
Is this how GOD wants me to live my life? Is this God's heart for me? Is this God's plan for my life?
No - I don't think it is, man. I don't.
So, here's my plan. I'm gonna go back to basics (Step #3) and consciously choose to commit my life and will to Christ's care and control.
Specifically - money, man.
That's it - I'm gonna have to make a conscious choice to turn my money over to God and trust in Him instead of how much money I (may or may not) have.
There was more to today's sermon, too, like about how you can't give your firstfruits because you can't really give what's not yours to begin with and about how you're to give to God first, not after other stuff.
I'm gonna be honest here, man - that part scares the hell out of me. To me, giving to God has always ranked about 4th or 5th as a priority, behind mortgages and electricity and child support and food. It's so easy to rationalize that you need those things, and it's human nature to want to try to get those basic survival things out of the way first, right? But let's face it - that hasn't worked for me, man. The only time it has worked is when I've stepped out in faith and put my money where I've spent so much time saying my faith is. But after a while, I always get scared I'm going not have enough money for something and so I start grabbing it all back again and holding on to every penny and working myself to death and taking time away from my family and my serenity goes to hell. What a fun cycle, huh?
So I'm choosing to break it, one day at a time. I'm gonna try to work it all out here and take it one day at a time, step by step.
So, there's that.
Anyway, I think that's it. I have two Brandon stories this week, too.
746, for Monday
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Guys,
No blog for Tuesday or Wednesday. I've had a fairly stressful day today, and I'm taking the next two days off.
I'll post one of Brando's Most Epic Stunts when I get back.
Back in 1995, my brother Brando, Nate and I took a road trip to Lubbock, TX. I was testing for Lubbock PD. Nate was looking to transfer, Brando wanted to take a quick tour of the campus, and all three of us wanted to get an eyeful of the local Texas Tech beauties. Incidentally, for a very long time, Texas Tech was referred to (by us) as Canaan - the "Promised Land".
Now, if you take Hwy 114 (westbound), the halfway point between the DFW Metroplex and Lubbock is a small town called Seymour. In Seymour, there was, for many years, a gas station very easily accessible from the highway called the Super 7. Through no fault of it's own, this became the designated stopping place for a restroom break and to get gas, and to load up on sugar and caffeine via candy and Dr. Pepper. In my case, I was quite happy to find that they carried delicious Valomilk candies, which are a personal favorite of mine.
It was June when we made the trip, which means it was really hot outside. We were in my (then) brand new 1995 Dodge Neon, a bright red machine I love to this day. Upon arriving at the Super 7, I passed back a Texaco gas card to Nate, got out, and proceeded to fill the little 12-gallon tank. Brandon and Nate walked inside and proceeded to use the restroom and start looking for snacks. I think gas was about a dollar a gallon at the time - imagine that, huh? After topping it off (something else you can't do anymore) I went inside and went inside, used the bathroom (Nate and Brando had gone in first), got my 44 oz Dr. Pepper my Valomilk and paid for it all at the cash register. I think Brandon got a snickers and a Gatorade, and Nate might have gotten spicy pork rinds with the intent of eating them in the car, which carried a neat side bonus of appalling me to no end, as this was before I learned to appreciate the taste of such a culturally relevant food. Fully stocked and fueled, we began the second leg of the trip. It did not go as expected.
About 45 minutes west of Seymour, Nate was sitting shotgun with his feet propped up on the dashboard. The sun was high in the sky, AC was running wide open and the music was pumping as we drove a mere ten miles over the speed limit. In the distance, a car approached us slowly from the opposite direction, a shimmering blur on the hot Texas asphalt. It took nearly five full minutes to recognize the car - a white, late model Ford Crown Victoria. We noticed - much more quickly - the light bar and the brown stripe kit, indicating it as a law enforcement vehicle. In this case, it was being driven by a sheriff's deputy, whom we would soon meet.
As our two cars passed, still heading in opposite directions, I watched the deputy hit the brakes, whip a quick u-turn and punch the accelerator as he came out of the turn. it was at this point I knew we were about to be pulled over. Fresh out of the police academy, my mind immediately began trying to figure why. I quickly went through my mental list of probable causes and found nothing.
Nate, being no slouch, immediately wondered if we were being pulled over because his feet were on the dashboard. I was mystified.
Brandon, having been thoroughly slapped around a few weks ago while serving as a feisty and occasionally uncooperative "actor" for the scenario portion of UNT police academy's latest training session, sat up and immediately took notice, having zero desire to have the exercises repeated. At the deputy's light began flashing, we pulled to the right shoulder, parked the car, and ostentatiously put out hands in plain sight so as not to alarm the deputy with surreptitious movement.
Upon arriving at the driver's side window, the officer politely asked for my driver's license and proof of insurance. Upon obtaining these, he asked us where were headed. Lubbock, we answered. Where were we coming from. Dallas, we said, as we had long since learned that nobody knows where Flower Mound is. Then, as he looked at us through his sunglasses and drawled the next question: "Did y'all get gas at the Super 7?"
Now, at the time, we honestly had no idea what the gas station was called. All we knew was that it was a Texaco, and that it was in Seymour. Not wanting to be problematic or dishonest, I looked at him and said "I don't know."
Unfazed, the officer tried another tack and asked us if we got in Seymour. Ah - we knew the answer to this one. We unanimously said "yes". He then asked us, somewhat bemusedly, "Did y'all forget to pay for it?"
Confused, I looked at Nate, who stared back at me with the same degree of confoundment. I told Nate "I gave you the card, man." Nate looked me dead in the eye and said "I gave it to Brandon."
Now, at this point, Brandon had been sitting silently and unobtrusively in the back seat, trying his best not to make any sudden moves. As Nate and I both simultaneously turned around in our seats (Brandon said it was in slow motion) to look at him, my brother's hand slowly made it's way to the pocket of his seersucker shirt. As he slowly extracted the small plastic Texaco card, he signed heavily and blurted the appropriate expletive that caused us all to burst out laughing.
As it turned out, the manager at the Super 7 had watched all three of us us pull in, gas up, come inside, use the restroom, wander around for five minutes before buying food and depart without giving it a second thought. When we didn't immediately turn around, they called the Sheriff.
Fortunately, the cop had a sense of humor and laughed as all three of us we tried talk over the other two in a sudden of frantic burst of profuse apologies, earnest pleadings and desperate assurances that we would immediately turn around, head directly to Seymour without passing Go or collecting $200, and pay for the gas we had inadvertently stolen. He chuckled, gave me my license and insurance back and simply said "I'll tell 'em you're comin'. You guys have a good day."
We made it back to Seymour about 45 minutes later, and on the way we saw a beautiful west Texas gal riding her bike and decided that she totally worth the drive back, though the total experience added a good 90 minutes to our drive. We nearly overwhelmed the manager at the Super 7 with our efforts to make right our transgression, even buying more candy, sodas, beef jerky and chips. The manager had a good laugh about it and bid us a fond farewell as we left again.
For years afterwards, every time any of us drove from Lubbock to home, we always stopped off at the Super 7 whether we really needed gas or not. As several of us made our way back and forth across the plains of west Texas to attend classes, look for jobs, visit Jones Stadium, see our friends and family graduate, or pass through on vacations, we made it a point to re-tell the story every time to whomever we were with whether they wanted to hear it or not.
Anyway, I figured it was a pretty good road-trip story. I think I have one more story for that trip - I'll get to it tomorrow. I hope you guys enjoyed that one.
I've been working my tail off for the past four days; working both at the theater and the bar. The bar is becoming less and less fun for me as of late, as I've grown tired of checking ID's and listening to over-friendly drunks and the variety of obnoxious patrons I encounter on any given night. I figure when the check isn't worth what I have to listen to I'd just quit, and I feel like I'm getting closer. I promised Toni if she got another job I'd quit anyway.
Anyway, I think that's it for tonight.
On an unrelated note....
Have a Musical: "I Dreamed a Dream" from Les Miserable
Here are the words; it's another one of those beautiful, sad songs that just breaks your heart and makes you want to fly at the same time, and useful if you need a good cry.
There was a time when men were kind When their voices were soft, when their worlds inviting There was time when love was blind When the world was a song, and the song was exciting There was a time - it all went wrong.
I dreamed a dream in time gone by When hope was high and life worth living I dreamed that love would never die I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid And dreams were made and used and wasted There was no ransom to be paid No song unsung, no wine untasted
But the tigers come at night With their voices soft as thunder As they tear your hope apart As they turn your dreams to shame
He slept a summer by my side He filled my days with endless wonder He took my childhood in his stride But he was gone when autumn came
And still I dream he’ll come to me That we will live the years together But there are dreams that cannot be And there are storms we cannot weather
I had a dream my life would be So different from this hell I’m living So different now from what it seemed Now life has killed the dream I dreamed
