Jesus wept. That's all I could think about. Jesus weeping.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Kids are Dicks
The other day on Facebook, I wrote a short little blurb about irrational fears. About how I have them. Kinda got me to worrying about why I would have them and where it came from. The long and short of it I suppose is - I don't know. More than likely it stems from my traumatic experiences in middle school, and really discovering how much of an asshole some KIDS can really be.
Looking back on my life as a kid, from about 0 (I assume) to about 10 or 11, everything was pretty good to go. I suppose I really didn't learn about how cruel kids could be till about 5th grade, when people could start being REAL dicks. And it really didn't escalate till about 6th or 7th grade when it was made certain to me that human beings could be such motherfuckers to people. Not really too sure of where this impulse comes from, I suppose I can't really hold these kids too accountable for what they did to me 20+ years ago. But I do know this - I've never, and will never forget about it.
One of the lessons I must always remember to teach my children is to not be assholes to people. They'll remember it, I'll assure them. I'm sure I treated some people badly. Though I don't remember it all that well, I'm sure it happened. I know I was kinder to people all my life than unkind. That's the important part of it.
So kids, if you ever read this. Don't be dicks. People will never forgive you.
Gospel of the Day:
I try to knock the dust off my sandals from middle school, but it's tough, man. It's tough...
Looking back on my life as a kid, from about 0 (I assume) to about 10 or 11, everything was pretty good to go. I suppose I really didn't learn about how cruel kids could be till about 5th grade, when people could start being REAL dicks. And it really didn't escalate till about 6th or 7th grade when it was made certain to me that human beings could be such motherfuckers to people. Not really too sure of where this impulse comes from, I suppose I can't really hold these kids too accountable for what they did to me 20+ years ago. But I do know this - I've never, and will never forget about it.
One of the lessons I must always remember to teach my children is to not be assholes to people. They'll remember it, I'll assure them. I'm sure I treated some people badly. Though I don't remember it all that well, I'm sure it happened. I know I was kinder to people all my life than unkind. That's the important part of it.
So kids, if you ever read this. Don't be dicks. People will never forgive you.
Gospel of the Day:
Gospel, Luke 10:1-12
I try to knock the dust off my sandals from middle school, but it's tough, man. It's tough...
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
What I Want, Right Now edition
Sometimes I think about things I want, but can't come up with anything. I guess that means I have everything I really need. Sure, I'd love to have a million dollars or a boat made of glass, or an El Camino that plays Metallica all day. Or a lawn chair in the surf, while I'm half drunk on pina coladas, about to head up to the condo for a sandwich I'm gonna make with some carving board turkey and some mayo on toast. The new iphone just came out. The iphone 5. I don't really care though. So I guess there's that.
Todays gospel comes from Luke:
Gospel, Luke 8:19-2119 His mother and his brothers came looking for him, but they could not get to him because of the crowd.20 He was told, 'Your mother and brothers are standing outside and want to see you.'21 But he said in answer, 'My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and put it into practice.'
I only have one brother. I guess it'd be alright if both he and my mom wanted to see me. It's good to be wanted. Even better if everyone who hears the word of God would want to see you, right?
Monday, September 24, 2012
Grandmaw's and Boat Rides!
Went to go visit my MeMe yesterday with Coop. For some reason, mortality weighs on me everytime I do things like that. I mean, it's probably the whole drive for getting me there in the first place, and it always kind of hangs with me on my way back home. These people aren't going to be here forever. You have to recognize things like that because I think if you don't, you'll deal with it tenfold somewhere down the line. I don't wanna be that guy. "Why didn't I go visit _____ when I had the chance?" It's a real fear I have. So I've decided that's the new me. The guy that does shit while people are here instead of the guy who regrets it later. My life is partially lived in a nostalgic haze anyway. Might as well try to keep everything as positive as possible. Saving all the good times in the memory banks. Because I know damn well I'll be drifting through them again down the road.
Took Cooper on his first boat ride Saturday. Picking out his life jacket was a real hoot Friday, but watching him on the boat for the first time - watching him and wondering what is going through his mind, that was the real treat. You see a little brain just slowly working there, taking things in, learning, processing. It's really one of those miracles of life. It blows my mind daily looking at this kid learn to do everything, and take it in. It's so rad. People are so scared of kids. I was too. It's a humongous life change. But this past weekend as he was playing hide-and-peek up from the corner of the bed with Aimee and just laughing, I was laughing my head off. What a tremendous little bundle of awesomeness. I'm so happy I have him in my life, and I can't WAIT until his little bro gets here. Good times.
Today's gospel is as follows:
Gospel, Luke 8:16-18
Took Cooper on his first boat ride Saturday. Picking out his life jacket was a real hoot Friday, but watching him on the boat for the first time - watching him and wondering what is going through his mind, that was the real treat. You see a little brain just slowly working there, taking things in, learning, processing. It's really one of those miracles of life. It blows my mind daily looking at this kid learn to do everything, and take it in. It's so rad. People are so scared of kids. I was too. It's a humongous life change. But this past weekend as he was playing hide-and-peek up from the corner of the bed with Aimee and just laughing, I was laughing my head off. What a tremendous little bundle of awesomeness. I'm so happy I have him in my life, and I can't WAIT until his little bro gets here. Good times.
Today's gospel is as follows:
Gospel, Luke 8:16-18
16 'No one lights a lamp to cover it with a bowl or to put it under a bed. No, it is put on a lamp-stand so that people may see the light when they come in.17 For nothing is hidden but it will be made clear, nothing secret but it will be made known and brought to light.18 So take care how you listen; anyone who has, will be given more; anyone who has not, will be deprived even of what he thinks he has.'
It's an oldie but goodie. This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine.
Friday, September 21, 2012
Coop's first haircut, Another In-utero appt, FRSS progress, and Breakfast at Tiffany's.
A couple of days ago we got Cooper his first haircut. It was our third attempt. Apparently the location is quite popular. It's called "Pigtails and Crewcuts", in TownCenter. In a related note, Coop got neither a crewcut nor a pigtail. His hair was getting a bit long though. I really wanted to get him a rat-tail on the back all trailer park style, but of course, Aimee said no. There's a vid up on my youtube page of this glorious event. He didn't seem to enjoy it all that much. I said to the haircut girl, "I don't understand his reaction... I mean, I stopped crying during haircuts when I was 17 or 18 years old, but I thought he was a little quicker than me." She didn't laugh. I didn't get over the silence during the entire duration of the haircut. Anyway, see below for the visual proof:
This morning at 11:20, Aimee and I have another appointment with the baby doc to see/hear the heartbeat of our voracious 32 week old utero-babe. I'm looking forward to it. I'm actually really looking forward to the new birthing experience in the new hospital but I'm not looking forward to the sleep deprivation. I know it's one of those things, and in the entire goings of life, I suppose it's a good problem to have. But still, it takes a while to get used to 3 hour sleep intervals and being tired most of your day. I know. I'll get over it. I still have an elliptical to move out of the house to continue to make room. MiMi is coming to stay next week and since it is currently obscuring her passage from the door to her bed in the guest bedroom, time is of the essence. Will it speed me up - probably not. But what's new?
Last night, had practice with Family Robot Seizure Show (from hereon referred to as FRSS). I've never written about this project in my blog before, but for those wondering, check out the facebook page for more detailed looks in: http://www.facebook.com/familyrobotseizureshow. Being perfectly honest here, I sincerely enjoy the work I'm doing with this band. It is extremely rewarding to me to be able to put out a record, from start to finish, in less than a year. We're currently working on the third full length album, tentatively titled "Doom Falcon". The name came from a series of words Brandon put into a band name generator and those words together sound bad ass. We are at this point about halfway finished with the record and I'm really excited to show it off... Last night I put down new vocal tracks for a few working songs, "25 Minutes To New Orleans", "I Can't Believe", and "Where The Sun Don't Shine". This record will be the best one yet.
During the last couple days, between here and there, I've managed to watch "Breakfast At Tiffany's" in its entirety. What an odd film. Audrey Hepburn plays quite an interesting and strange person, who's oddly charming and weird but I suppose that's kind of the point. The book it's based on was written by Truman Capote. I didn't recognize the lead actor but after some IMDBing, saw he was the guy who played Hannibal on the A-Team. So that's kind of cool. Either way, it was a neat little movie. Old New York style. Plus it's a classic (1961). It helps to brush up on that kind of stuff, I feel anyway, just to take some stock in pop culture.
Finally today's gospel reading: Matthew 9: 9-13. What was up with those nutty Pharisees? Always naysaying...
Thursday, September 20, 2012
500 vs 50 - Sin is the Same.
Gospel Lk 7:36-50
A certain Pharisee invited Jesus to dine with him,
and he entered the Pharisee's house and reclined at table.
Now there was a sinful woman in the city
who learned that he was at table in the house of the Pharisee.
Bringing an alabaster flask of ointment,
she stood behind him at his feet weeping
and began to bathe his feet with her tears.
Then she wiped them with her hair,
kissed them, and anointed them with the ointment.
When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this he said to himself,
"If this man were a prophet,
he would know who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him,
that she is a sinner."
Jesus said to him in reply,
"Simon, I have something to say to you."
"Tell me, teacher," he said.
"Two people were in debt to a certain creditor;
one owed five hundred days' wages and the other owed fifty.
Since they were unable to repay the debt, he forgave it for both.
Which of them will love him more?"
Simon said in reply,
"The one, I suppose, whose larger debt was forgiven."
He said to him, "You have judged rightly."
Then he turned to the woman and said to Simon,
"Do you see this woman?
When I entered your house, you did not give me water for my feet,
but she has bathed them with her tears
and wiped them with her hair.
You did not give me a kiss,
but she has not ceased kissing my feet since the time I entered.
You did not anoint my head with oil,
but she anointed my feet with ointment.
So I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven;
hence, she has shown great love.
But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little."
He said to her, "Your sins are forgiven."
The others at table said to themselves,
"Who is this who even forgives sins?"
But he said to the woman,
"Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
and he entered the Pharisee's house and reclined at table.
Now there was a sinful woman in the city
who learned that he was at table in the house of the Pharisee.
Bringing an alabaster flask of ointment,
she stood behind him at his feet weeping
and began to bathe his feet with her tears.
Then she wiped them with her hair,
kissed them, and anointed them with the ointment.
When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this he said to himself,
"If this man were a prophet,
he would know who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him,
that she is a sinner."
Jesus said to him in reply,
"Simon, I have something to say to you."
"Tell me, teacher," he said.
"Two people were in debt to a certain creditor;
one owed five hundred days' wages and the other owed fifty.
Since they were unable to repay the debt, he forgave it for both.
Which of them will love him more?"
Simon said in reply,
"The one, I suppose, whose larger debt was forgiven."
He said to him, "You have judged rightly."
Then he turned to the woman and said to Simon,
"Do you see this woman?
When I entered your house, you did not give me water for my feet,
but she has bathed them with her tears
and wiped them with her hair.
You did not give me a kiss,
but she has not ceased kissing my feet since the time I entered.
You did not anoint my head with oil,
but she anointed my feet with ointment.
So I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven;
hence, she has shown great love.
But the one to whom little is forgiven, loves little."
He said to her, "Your sins are forgiven."
The others at table said to themselves,
"Who is this who even forgives sins?"
But he said to the woman,
"Your faith has saved you; go in peace."
Simon seems like a pretty good apostle. He meant well here, but obviously you shouldn't be all high and mighty around the Lord. I suppose when you ask for forgiveness, you should probably not judge the value of sin to be forgiven. Because whether it's a huge sin or a small sin in your eyes, really all that matters is being forgiven for it.
Catholicynicism
"I'm a recovering Catholic." You hear people say this from time to time and it's an intriguing statement. Not because they're trying to distance themselves from faith. Or run from it, or whatever. But because they're usually converting to some other spiritual base that they feel is more suitable for where they need to be right then. Maybe they married a Baptist while their own faith was lacking. Or maybe they've discovered some other religion they can relate to a little better. Or maybe they discovered one of these humongous money covered mega-churches that just appears more faith fashionable? Who knows. Either way, I know what it feels like to be a recovering Catholic. I recovered from the church. Now I seek to un-recover from it? Confusing? I guess how I could understand how it could be. Allow me to explain.
Baptized a Catholic, First reconciliation, First communion, confirmed - I was raised in the church. From going to private Catholic schools my entire life, it seems like the church was ingrained in me. And it was fine and dandy. I prayed before and after receiving all these sacraments and went along with everything the church was teaching me. I've read a lot of scripture in my day, and know many a bible story good enough to remember how a lot of readings are going to end up. And while I'm can't say I never missed mass once from baptism to confirmation, I made a good many of them. Plus thanks to catholic school, I hit many a holy day of obligation along the way for good measure. So I'm well on my way to being an awesome catholic. Right?
Wrong. Somewhere between confirmation and receiving the incredibly magical sacrament of holy matrimony, I erred. My wonderful wife and I went through all the pre-cana initiation kind of halfway paying attention but for the most part, managed to keep our faith intact. I can at the very least say that I pray every day and I always have. So belief and a closeness to God have never been a void in my life. I made confession for the first time since confirmation somewhere in the lead up to my marriage in 2006, but by and large, I fell out into and out of weekly mass attendance rather quickly around the time of receiving the sacrament. And that is a very sad thing. But I guess it's just my path.
All through this time, I have been wayward in my faith. I prayed to the Trinity daily, making the sign of the cross and saying three prayers regularly. The same ones I spoke every morning at St. Thomas More. Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory Be. Then a little conversational piece here and there with the Big Guy. But I still find myself asking "What more is out there"? The last couple times I've been to mass (and they were very sparsely scattered), I'm just sitting there saying "WHEN IS THIS GOING TO BE OVER?!" But luckily I feel like the drought may be over. I have felt a compelling pull back to faith. Some way. Some how.
I haven't always agreed with the Catholic Church. In fact, there's still a couple of things I still don't really support that they're into. But I think their true business is the healing of souls. And I think I've made the first big step there to being comfortable with redemption. I went to confession today at St Joseph Cathedral downtown. It was a pretty awesome experience. I prayed the Act of Contrition. And it was a great feeling. It really was.
So bottom line I guess, is that it's ok to be Catholicynic. Just know that there's a lot more at stake in there. You go to church to heal. And it feels good to be back.
Baptized a Catholic, First reconciliation, First communion, confirmed - I was raised in the church. From going to private Catholic schools my entire life, it seems like the church was ingrained in me. And it was fine and dandy. I prayed before and after receiving all these sacraments and went along with everything the church was teaching me. I've read a lot of scripture in my day, and know many a bible story good enough to remember how a lot of readings are going to end up. And while I'm can't say I never missed mass once from baptism to confirmation, I made a good many of them. Plus thanks to catholic school, I hit many a holy day of obligation along the way for good measure. So I'm well on my way to being an awesome catholic. Right?
Wrong. Somewhere between confirmation and receiving the incredibly magical sacrament of holy matrimony, I erred. My wonderful wife and I went through all the pre-cana initiation kind of halfway paying attention but for the most part, managed to keep our faith intact. I can at the very least say that I pray every day and I always have. So belief and a closeness to God have never been a void in my life. I made confession for the first time since confirmation somewhere in the lead up to my marriage in 2006, but by and large, I fell out into and out of weekly mass attendance rather quickly around the time of receiving the sacrament. And that is a very sad thing. But I guess it's just my path.
All through this time, I have been wayward in my faith. I prayed to the Trinity daily, making the sign of the cross and saying three prayers regularly. The same ones I spoke every morning at St. Thomas More. Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory Be. Then a little conversational piece here and there with the Big Guy. But I still find myself asking "What more is out there"? The last couple times I've been to mass (and they were very sparsely scattered), I'm just sitting there saying "WHEN IS THIS GOING TO BE OVER?!" But luckily I feel like the drought may be over. I have felt a compelling pull back to faith. Some way. Some how.
I haven't always agreed with the Catholic Church. In fact, there's still a couple of things I still don't really support that they're into. But I think their true business is the healing of souls. And I think I've made the first big step there to being comfortable with redemption. I went to confession today at St Joseph Cathedral downtown. It was a pretty awesome experience. I prayed the Act of Contrition. And it was a great feeling. It really was.
So bottom line I guess, is that it's ok to be Catholicynic. Just know that there's a lot more at stake in there. You go to church to heal. And it feels good to be back.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
The Hole in my Soul
You know, a lot of times I can depend on this blog as a resource to document my thoughts of the day. It's a great tool because first of all, nobody reads it. So it's largely private. If someone should stumble upon it and find interest in it, well then good for them. But for the most part, it's a way to vent and will probably never come to light. Unless something happens to me. Which would be horrible but I mean - LOOK AT ALL THESE RESOURCES TO FIND OUT ABOUT ME! It would be impossible for anyone to say I didn't write anything I was thinking down. So I mean, there's always that.
It's been quite a while since I've written anything new so if you're reading this in a stream of one post to the next, you may notice some incontinuity. You'll get over it. I haven't changed a whole lot and I doubt I really will. I have several documented ways to go and see what I've thought of myself (and a lot of other things) since 1991, when I made my first journal. Luckily there's no electronic copy of anything I've written prior to about 2004 but either way, if anyone is ever looking, I have at least 3 volumes of things in the drawer of my office. If I am to leave this world suddenly, that's where my innermost thoughts could be discovered. Just please don't judge me too harshly.
Lately I have been on a bit of a skid, spiritually. I've been asking a lot of people out there if they understand their purpose. What are we here for? What's the meaning of all of this? I went tailgating this past weekend at the LSU-Idaho game and obviously there was a lot of boozing and eating and people talking to each other and drunken revelry and all this. Just like there was last week for the LSU-Washington game. Unfortunately I don't remember a whole lot from either contest, but I do remember one resounding thing: Is our purpose to just sit there and consume? To party? To make babies? Or to help our common man? Because if so, one of those things is not like the other. And for the most part, we're dropping the ball.
The following day as I'm nursing a hangover, and it's usually a Sunday coincidentally, I'm feeling a little low. Not just because of the hangover but because I feel an emptiness. Flashback to a couple of weeks ago, truth be told. On a random weekend evening before football season where I asked myself "What else can I do here on earth?" You put that together with a couple of blowout tailgate post-recovery periods, and eventually it's a screaming question, getting louder and louder. What else can I do? To help people? To help myself? To help this world? And I just keep asking and asking.
There's a non-denomination megachurch here in town called The Healing Place. A lot of people go there and do the whole lift-up-your-arms-in-praise and sing "Our God Is An Awesome God" and the whole shabang. Recently they have hit a little patch of bad news when their pastor, the honorable Dino Rizzo, abruptly resigned. In a town as small as Baton Rouge, this is earth shattering news to a whole lot of people. I think something like 8000 people usually attend their 12pm Sunday service. I mean, that's a lot of people. And it goes on in this massive stadium-like structure they've built, with all the waterfalls and globes and crosses and lasers that money can buy. For the longest time, I've wondered what they had going on over there that was so attractive to the average dude out looking for redemption. What reels them in? Well I guess it's the charisma of their preachers. They must be good. They must be real good.
On many a Sunday evening (again, conversely nursing a hangover) I'll tune into the Joel Osteen program on whatever channel it's on. And this man - just WOW. He can put on a show. And I'll be one hundred percent honest with you, it's catchy. I prayed along with him and I felt the spark. Not that I felt compelled to just go give him a bunch of money but still, he's good. It was people like him, and the fact that I hear this Healing Place is so awesome, it got me questioning my own direction on where my faith was headed. Could this be the hole in my soul I've been looking to fill? Maybe so, maybe not. I'll get back to that.
But first of all, let's take a look at where my faith was. Where I'd gotten to in spirituality, to finally be sitting at the crossroads of the megachurch and about to dive in....
TO BE CONTINUED.
It's been quite a while since I've written anything new so if you're reading this in a stream of one post to the next, you may notice some incontinuity. You'll get over it. I haven't changed a whole lot and I doubt I really will. I have several documented ways to go and see what I've thought of myself (and a lot of other things) since 1991, when I made my first journal. Luckily there's no electronic copy of anything I've written prior to about 2004 but either way, if anyone is ever looking, I have at least 3 volumes of things in the drawer of my office. If I am to leave this world suddenly, that's where my innermost thoughts could be discovered. Just please don't judge me too harshly.
Lately I have been on a bit of a skid, spiritually. I've been asking a lot of people out there if they understand their purpose. What are we here for? What's the meaning of all of this? I went tailgating this past weekend at the LSU-Idaho game and obviously there was a lot of boozing and eating and people talking to each other and drunken revelry and all this. Just like there was last week for the LSU-Washington game. Unfortunately I don't remember a whole lot from either contest, but I do remember one resounding thing: Is our purpose to just sit there and consume? To party? To make babies? Or to help our common man? Because if so, one of those things is not like the other. And for the most part, we're dropping the ball.
The following day as I'm nursing a hangover, and it's usually a Sunday coincidentally, I'm feeling a little low. Not just because of the hangover but because I feel an emptiness. Flashback to a couple of weeks ago, truth be told. On a random weekend evening before football season where I asked myself "What else can I do here on earth?" You put that together with a couple of blowout tailgate post-recovery periods, and eventually it's a screaming question, getting louder and louder. What else can I do? To help people? To help myself? To help this world? And I just keep asking and asking.
There's a non-denomination megachurch here in town called The Healing Place. A lot of people go there and do the whole lift-up-your-arms-in-praise and sing "Our God Is An Awesome God" and the whole shabang. Recently they have hit a little patch of bad news when their pastor, the honorable Dino Rizzo, abruptly resigned. In a town as small as Baton Rouge, this is earth shattering news to a whole lot of people. I think something like 8000 people usually attend their 12pm Sunday service. I mean, that's a lot of people. And it goes on in this massive stadium-like structure they've built, with all the waterfalls and globes and crosses and lasers that money can buy. For the longest time, I've wondered what they had going on over there that was so attractive to the average dude out looking for redemption. What reels them in? Well I guess it's the charisma of their preachers. They must be good. They must be real good.
On many a Sunday evening (again, conversely nursing a hangover) I'll tune into the Joel Osteen program on whatever channel it's on. And this man - just WOW. He can put on a show. And I'll be one hundred percent honest with you, it's catchy. I prayed along with him and I felt the spark. Not that I felt compelled to just go give him a bunch of money but still, he's good. It was people like him, and the fact that I hear this Healing Place is so awesome, it got me questioning my own direction on where my faith was headed. Could this be the hole in my soul I've been looking to fill? Maybe so, maybe not. I'll get back to that.
But first of all, let's take a look at where my faith was. Where I'd gotten to in spirituality, to finally be sitting at the crossroads of the megachurch and about to dive in....
TO BE CONTINUED.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Micro-Eggs
This morning I made eggs in the microwave. I didn't know you could do it until I did. I made them in a little microwavable container and when I opened it, the steam burned my fingers.
Eggs in the microwave. Now we're all screwed. I wonder if my HOA forbids chickens in my backyard.
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