Childhood Memories: Pantyhose Rocket Ship

So, my wife Mary and I were talking just this morning about our paternal grandmothers, and how much they were alike in many ways. If they'd ever known each other -- which they didn't, since they'd always lived nearly three hours away from each other -- they would likely have been BFF's. Nanny Cobb (Mary's grandma) was an avid gardener, adept at country cooking, and her home was Ground Zero for all things in the Cobb family. My Grandma Hill also liked to work in her yard, loved to cook, and her home was a gathering place for the Hill family. It was also a great place to hang out during the summer when I was out of school and my parents were at work.

Up until the time she passed away when I was thirteen years old, my Grandma Hill was my closest family member outside of my parents. In truth, she was probably my best friend -- no exaggeration. I have many fond memories of spending the summers with her. Being an only child, I had my share of toys and books and other things that interested me. I wasn't spoiled, mind you, but I was far from destitute. Often, I would take my favorite toys or gadgets or whatever to Grandma's house so we could play together. She wasn't a stuffed-shirt granny, the kind that pats you on the head, maybe even gives you a hug, but won't get down in the floor in the middle of the living room and play with you. She'd do that in a heartbeat. But when I would stay at her house, whether for the afternoon, all day, or occasionally overnight (her house was right behind my parents' house, so sleepovers weren't quite as common), we didn't really get around to playing with my toys all that much.

You see, my Grandma Hill was the creative type. Why play with a toy you can buy when you can make a toy you can play with? Why settle for the toy your parents bought you, when you can add to it and make it even better? That was her style, and when I hung out at her house, that was my style too. Her playful, inventive nature probably contributed to my already creative instincts, and helped shape me into the creative person I am today.

One of the most inventive things we ever created was a L'eggs Eggs rocket ship. Remember these?

The hosiery was packed inside a plastic egg which sat in a little cardboard box. The eggs came in a variety of colors, depending (I suppose) on what color the pantyhose were. My grandma must have been wearing these things for years, because she had tons of empty L'eggs Eggs under the sink in her bathroom. When you took the egg apart and turned the bottom part in on the top part, they stacked quite nicely.

One day, in search of a new toy to play with, I started stacking the eggs haphazardly till I'd formed a wobbly plastic tower, of sorts. When my grandma saw what I had done, I thought she might be a little annoyed with me for messing around with her Eggs without asking. But, as usual, she was not. Instead, she suggested that we keep going.

A lot of the L'eggs Eggs that she had were silver in color. Their shiny, reflective surfaces would make a great rocket ship, she suggested. Being a wannabe astronaut as I was, I thought that this was an excellent plan. But keeping the Eggs together was a bit challenging. Nothing a little duct tape couldn't fix, my grandma said. (She was well ahead of her time. Nowadays it's well-known that duct tape can hold the entire world together if you need it to.) Plus, with the duct tape being a silvery color itself, it would match well with the silver-colored eggs.

It worked! When we were done, we had made a L'eggs Eggs rocket ship that must have been all of three or four feet tall (which is saying something considering a complete egg is only about four or five inches high by itself.) The finished product looked great, but wasn't all that practical as a toy. When you tried to lift it to carry it somewhere, even with the duct tape securing it, it tended to wobble. You certainly couldn't blast the rocket ship off into outer space by attaching fireworks to the bottom of it. I suggested this as a possible option, but Grandma rebuffed this suggestion. She was creative, not reckless.

So there it sat in the middle of the bathroom floor. Later, we carried to the middle of the living room floor where any and all visitors could more easily admire it. All who saw it -- which probably only included my parents, Grandma's two sisters who visited often, and maybe my uncle, aunt, and cousins -- were duly impressed. This was just one of the many inventive toys we made out of whatever was lying around.

At the end of our toil and play, Grandma would reward us both with a couple of mini Snickers bars that she always kept in the refrigerator. Those little things were hard as bricks when you first took them out of the fridge, but you couldn't help but try to bite into them anyway. After a few minutes, they were a little softer -- if you hadn't eaten them already.

They probably don't even make these L'eggs Eggs anymore, and that's a shame. Because thousands of kids everywhere are missing out on a wonderful, if totally impractical toy. I sure loved the one my Grandma and I made.



There will likely be more of these "Childhood Memories" to come. Mary will probably be contributing some of her own memories, in her own words, here in the coming days and weeks as well.

10 Reasons Why You Don't Read This Blog

1)  You don't have a whole lot of free time these days, and you certainly aren't going to waste it reading such mindless drivel as this. You could just as easily find entertainment as good or better than what you find here on your favorite reality TV program, and you don't have to be glued to a tiny monitor to see that.

2)  You never know when I might write something about God again, and you don't want to hear any of that junk. If you wanted to be preached to – which you don't – then you'd go to church – which you don't. It's all well and good for people to believe whatever they want to believe, just as long as they don't talk about it. And if they choose to do so anyway, you certainly don't want to be forced to have to listen to it.

3)  You've read posts from this blog before, and they just weren't that interesting. Nothing to write home about, that's for sure. No earth-shattering truths or revelations to be found here. No self-help mumbo jumbo, no celebrity gossip. There's hundreds of better, more interesting sites on the Internet that are well worth looking at, so you simply don't bother with this one.

4)  If you've seen one list of (supposedly) funny pictures or things, you've seen a thousand of them! What's so exciting about looking at one more? You figure that I probably copied and pasted the whole thing from somebody else's blog anyway. You know you've seen something exactly like this before somewhere else, so why waste your time on a cheap imitation?

5)  You thought I was a "good Christian" till you saw that one post where I said I liked to listen to "Christian rap" (an oxymoron – there's no such thing!). Then you saw that other post where I actually had the gall to link videos of the "Christian rap" songs and you – not knowing what you were getting yourself into – were duped into clicking on a couple of them. Once you realized you'd "violated" your ears with that "devil's music" masquerading as "Christian music" (and you use the term "music" very lightly), you had to go take a shower to wash off the filth. You see who I really am now – a hypocrite who listens to "devil's music," and you don't want any part of that.

6)  You just want to be entertained. You don't want to read any actual "literature." So when you see the link for the post and its title starts with either "Flash Fiction," "Short Story," or "Poems For Your Perusal," that's all you need to know. You are not interested, thank you very much.

7)  You've read enough of this blog in the past to know that I can't write worth anything. You know good writing when you see it, and this is not it! You would rather spend your time reading the works of much worthier writers, like James Patterson, Nora Roberts, John Grisham, and Nicholas Sparks.

8)  A blog post every day for a year? Get real! There is no way that somebody can come up with something interesting to blog about every single day. It's just impossible! Oh, you might read one every now and then just to see if your suspicions are correct. But you're certain that after this many days in a row (what's it been, like five months now?), I must have run out of things to say by now.

9)  You have no earthly idea who I am. Maybe we're "fringe" Facebook friends because we happen to share an interest in the same bands or authors. Maybe we met one time at some social event and afterwards we "friended" each other. But that was years ago, and now you can't for the life of you remember where you know me from, or if you even know me at all. Either way, why should you take the time to read the blog of a person you hardly know (and maybe don't even know at all)?

10)  If you've read this far, you probably actually read this blog every day, or at least as often as you are able to. Maybe you didn't have the time to read it today (Friday), so you're reading it tomorrow (Saturday), or maybe even next Tuesday. But you are reading it – not because you have to, but because you want to. Maybe it's because you sort of like my writing, at least enough to keep coming back. Maybe it makes you laugh, makes you think, or maybe you just want to get to know me better. Maybe you're really bored, temporarily unemployed, or retired, and you have nothing better to do. Whatever the case may be, thank you for wasting your time here each day, or as often as you can. If you did read this far, you may have noticed that I didn't actually have 10 reasons why people don't read this blog. However, I think I probably hit the nail on the head with the 9 that I was able to come up with. Maybe this post comes off as an angry rant – it certainly wasn't intended that way. Maybe the tongue-in-cheek humor that was intended will come across, and I'll gain a few new readers, or regain a few old ones who temporarily lost their way (ha ha!). If so, great! If not, that's okay too. Thanks again for reading this. Y'all come back now, ya hear?

40 Interesting Things About The Number 40

IN GENERAL...

1)  -40° is the unique temperature at which the Fahrenheit and Celsius scales correspond. In other words, -40°F is equal to -40°C. Whichever word you use to measure it, "forty below" is really cold!

2)  40 is the atomic number of zirconium. Also known as the poor man's (or woman's) diamond. It does have a nice sparkle to it.

3)  .40 is a common caliber for bullets in firearms cartridges, most notably the .40 S & W.

4)  40 is the customary number of hours a full-time employee is expected to work in a week in the U.S. and other Western countries.

Um, excuse me, ma'am, but you misspelled "20"...

5)  In American vernacular, a "40" is a glass bottle that holds 40 fluid ounces of malt liquor. Malt liquors are commonly sold in 40-oz. bottles as opposed to the standard 12-oz. bottle that contains a single serving of beer.

6)  "4-0" (pronounced "four-oh") is derogatory slang for mall security guards and/or their vehicles. The term is derived from "5-0", a slang term for police officers and/or their vehicles.

7)  The average term of a pregnancy – counting from the woman's last menstrual period – is 40 weeks. How amazing that a brand new human being can come into existence in so short a time – though most women would probably agree that those are the longest 40 weeks of their lives!

8)  Turning 40 years old is seen by some as the entry to middle age, and one step closer to old age. Others (usually those who are actually turning the "big four-oh") contend that reaching 40 means that you are old enough to learn from your mistakes, yet young enough to chart a new direction in your life.

9)  In modern Christian practice, Lent consists of the 40 days preceding Easter. In much of Western Christianity, Sundays are excluded from the count. In Eastern Christianity, Sundays are included.

10)  Russian folklore contends that ghosts of the dead linger at the site of their death for 40 days.

11)  If you've been married for 40 years this year, then you are celebrating your ruby wedding anniversary. (Hint, hint, fellas!)

12)  Interstate 40 (aka I-40) runs from Wilmington, North Carolina, all the way to Barstow, California – nearly from one coast to the other!

13)  The word "forty," when spelled out, is in alphabetical order – for whatever that's worth.

14)  An ancient Arabic proverb states that "to understand a people, you must live among them for 40 days."

15)  To "catch 40 winks" means to take a short nap.

16)  Silly-sounding words that rhyme with 40 include: warty, corti, lortie, mortie, roarty, shorty, sortie, sporty, and torti. Move over, Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cottontail! I see a brand-new rabbit story within this word list!

IN THE BIBLE...

17)  In the Great Flood, rain fell on the earth for 40 days and 40 nights. As a result, all living beings on he earth perished, except those aboard Noah's ark.

18)  The Hebrew people roamed in the Sinai desert for 40 years before reaching Canaan, the Promised Land.

19)  Joshua, Caleb, and the rest of the Israelite spies explored Canaan for 40 days.

20)  The giant Goliath challenged the Israelites twice a day for 40 days before young David defeated him  with a rock and a slingshot.

21)  Jesus fasted for 40 days and 40 nights in the Judean desert, during which time Satan came and tempted Him. Each time, Jesus resisted the temptation and responded by quoting from the Scriptures.

22)  "40 lashes" was one of the punishments commonly meted out by the Sanhedrin. In actual practice, only 39 lashes were administered.

23)  The time period between Jesus' resurrection from the dead and His ascension to Heaven was 40 days.

IN HISTORY...

24)  The year 40 B.C. was known as the "Year of the Consulship of Calvinius and Pollio." That year, Marc Antony (of Julius Caesar fame) married Octavia, sister of Octavian (aka Augustus, the first Roman emperor). Also that year, Antony's lover Cleopatra (the last pharaoh of Ancient Egypt) bore twins, Cleopatra Selene and Alexander Helios – of whom Antony was the father. Tony, you got some 'splainin' to do!

25)  The year A.D. 40 was a leap year starting on Friday of the Julian calendar. At the time, it was known as the "Year of the Consulship of Augustus without colleague." That year, the Roman emperor Caligula started on a failed campaign to conquer Britain (though he declared himself victorious regardless), declared himself a god, appointed his horse Incitatus a senator, and ordered that all the heads of the Greek deity statues be replaced with heads fashioned after himself. Needless to say, Caligula was a tad cuckoo!

26)  "40 acres and a mule" refers to the short-lived policy, during the last stage of the Civil War during 1865, of providing arable land to black former slaves who had become free as a result of the advance of the Union armies into the territory previously controlled by the Confederacy. The combination of 40 acres (a standard size for a rural family plot) and a mule was widely recognized as providing a good start for a family farm.

27)  South Dakota was the 40th state to be admitted to the Union on November 2, 1889. South Dakota's biggest claim to fame is that Mount Rushmore is located there. South Dakotans would also like me to mention that the Black Hills, the Badlands, Custer State Park, and the Crazy Horse Memorial – to name a few – can also be found in South Dakota.

28)  Ronald Wilson Reagan was the 40th president of the United States of America, serving two consecutive terms from 1981 to 1989. Personally, I thought he was a much better President than he was a film actor, but he was actually pretty popular in both professions.

IN SPORTS....

29)  In Major League Baseball, each team is allowed to have 40 players under major-league contracts at any given time (not including players on the 60-day disabled list). However, a team may only have 25 on its active roster – with the exception of the period from September 1st to the end of the regular season, when teams are allowed to expand their game-day rosters to include the entire 40-man roster.

30)  In football scouting, a player's value – in part, at least – is determined by how quickly he can run a 40-yard dash.

31)  In tennis, the number 40 represents the third point gained in a game. A score of 40-40 (three points each) is called "deuce," at which time a player must score two consecutive points to win the game.

32)  The uniform number "40" has been retired by the following teams in honor of the following players for their contributions to the team and their respective sports:

* Baseball:  Houston Astros (Don Wilson); Pittsburgh Pirates (Danny Murtaugh).

* Basketball:  Atlanta Hawks (Jason Collier); Denver Nuggets (Byron Beck); Detroit Pistons (Bill Laimbeer).

* Football:  Arizona Cardinals (Pat Tillman); Chicago Bears (Gale Sayers); New England Patriots (Mike Haynes); New York Giants (Joe Morrison); Philadelphia Eagles (Tom Brookshier).

Bill Laimbeer (left); Larry Bird (right)

33)  The term "40-40 Club" is used to describe baseball players who have accomplished the singular task of hitting 40 homeruns and stealing 40 bases in the same season. This exclusive club consists (currently) of only four members: José Canseco, Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez, and Alfonso Soriano.

IN MUSIC, FILMS, AND TELEVISION...

34)  "40 Days" is a song by Christian rock band Third Day from their 2001 album Come Together. Great song, in my opinion. But what do I know? Those of you whom I heard from regarding my "20 Worst Songs" post apparently don't think I have very good taste in music.  #justkidding

35)  "40 Deep" is a song by  Christian rappers  Lecrae, Tedashii, and Trip Lee. These three guys make up just a small part of a greater community of Christian hip-hop and rap artists who are starting to make some headway into what has historically been a very secular style of music. This song is talking about that very community of believers, describing their numbers as (at least) 40 men (and women) deep...and still growing. My favorite verse of the song is Trip Lee's, which goes a little something like this: 

"A clique of us is shining, rhyming, walking, talking, sharing Christ / Very hype, find us hiding behind Him, all prepared to fight / Very tight, fighting, trying to share the cross, He spared our life / We're living by the blood like we're parasites, get it right / My team carries a bunch of high-beam blaring lights / Might seem scary, but we nice, see we carry life / Light is seen clearly, man, we're glaring very bright / Check the fleet, man, we deep, so we might seem Barry White / Ever since we heard about the murder, how they buried Christ / Eyes upon the cross, even though that is a scary sight / But that was the merger we converted, now we very tight / He died for His bride, homey, how you like the married life? / Christ the name we calling on, can't wait till He calls us home / You know we be falling often, we can't walk it all alone / My crew's always roaming like some stalkers, we ain't stalking homes / Started with the cross and we continue with the cross alone..."

From left to right: Tedashii; Lecrae; Trip Lee; and Sho Baraka

36)  "40" is a song from rock band U2's 1983 album, War. This one's got some really good lyrics. See U2 performing it live at Red Rocks below.

37)  UB40 is a British reggae/pop band formed in 1978 in Birmingham, England. They are best-known for their #1 hits "Red Red Wine" and "Can't Help Falling In Love."

38)  The 40-Year-Old Virgin is a 2005 comedy film – starring The Office's Steve Carell – about a middle-aged man's journey to – well, let's just say, change his status. I've never seen the film, but it was pretty popular when it first came out.

39)  Rachael Ray, one of my least favorite television hosts of all time, once had a show on the Food Network called $40 A Day. The premise of the show was that Rachael would travel to a certain city – whether it was in the United States or some foreign country – and she had to eat all three meals of the day without spending more than $40 total, including tips. This was the only show of hers that I could ever stomach more than one or two episodes of without having to change the channel. Mainly because I'm a cheapskate and I'd like to know where I can get decent eats for not a whole lot of dough when I'm traveling to an unfamiliar city.

40)  This Sumatran toddler started smoking cigarettes when he was 18 months old, and had soon progressed to 40 cigarettes a day! The boy's father admitted to introducing the child to smoking, but insisted that since the child was healthy, why make such a big deal out of it?  #smh

Sources: www.wikipedia.org; www.urbandictionary.com; www.bdayquotes.com; www.azlyrics.com

Skit: "Waiting For Something"

I wrote this skit awhile ago, thinking we might be able to use it for the "Night of Drama" presentation we do at our church each fall. As it turns out, it didn't quite fit last year's theme as well as some of the other ones I found, so I ended up rejecting my own skit. I still think it has some merit, though, in the right context. Let me know what you think....Enjoy!

"WAITING FOR SOMETHING"

CHARACTERS:

MARTY – a college student

HANK – a college student

(At LIGHTS UP, we see MARTY sitting on a bench with his head buried in his hands, looking rather depressed. HANK enters, barely even noticing MARTY, then suddenly stops and turns back to speak to him.)

HANK:  Hey Marty, what's going on?

MARTY:  What's up, Hank?

HANK:  Not much, man.  (looks at him curiously)  What are you doing here?

MARTY:  Me? Oh, I'm just waiting.

HANK:  What are you waiting for?

MARTY:  Waiting for something to happen.

HANK:  Um, okay. Were you expecting anything in particular to happen?

MARTY:  Yeah. A solution to my problem.

HANK:  What's your problem?

MARTY:  Nothing's happening in my life, that's my problem.

HANK:  (to himself)  I don't seem to getting anywhere here.

MARTY:  Yeah, that's it exactly! I'm just not getting anywhere. Something needs to happen.

HANK:  Define "something" for me, Marty, 'cuz I'm...

MARTY:  Something! You know, anything other than nothing, that kind of something!

HANK:  (flustered)  Ohh-kay!  (beat)  Listen, while you're waiting, do you mind if I ask you a question?

MARTY:  Sure, I've got nothing but time.

HANK:  If I'm understanding you right, you're unhappy with your life, because nothing's

happening –

MARTY:  Uh-huh.

HANK:  And you're sitting here waiting until something does happen –

MARTY:  Yep.

HANK:  But you aren't doing anything to make it happen?

MARTY:  What can I do to make something happen?

HANK:  Anything!

MARTY:  Anything?

HANK:  Anything other than nothing, at least. Doing nothing sure doesn't seem to be

working for you.

MARTY:  I guess not. But I can't really do anything. I mean, I'm not as talented as some

people, I don't have anything I'm particularly good at. And I – well, I guess I'm just

good for nothing.

HANK:  Marty, you may be good at doing nothing, but you're not good for nothing.

MARTY:  How do you know?

HANK:  'Cuz I know God, and I know you know God. And like the old saying goes: "God

don't make no junk."

MARTY:  I do know God, but it doesn't seem like He knows me too well.

HANK:  What do you mean?

MARTY:  Well, I've been praying – you know, talking to God...

HANK:  Okay...

MARTY:  And I've been asking God for something to happen.

HANK:  Well, that's something...

MARTY:  But nothing's happened yet. So I'm not real sure God's listening.

HANK:  Well, did you ask God for something in particular to happen?

MARTY:  No, I don't suppose I specifically spelled anything out for Him. I mean, He's God – He knows what I need.

HANK:  Well, how do you know He hasn't answered you, if you don't even know what you

asked Him for?

MARTY:  I never thought of it like that.

HANK:  Marty, it sounds like you're on the right track, but you might be on the wrong train.

MARTY:  What do you mean?

HANK:  You said that God knows what you need, and that's true. But you haven't really

asked Him for anything.

MARTY:  I did. I asked Him for something to happen.

HANK:  And then what?

MARTY:  I waited. I'm still waiting!

HANK:  So your job's done? The rest is up to Him?

MARTY:  Well, yeah. I mean, He is God, you know!

HANK:  (sighs)  Okay, Marty.  (beat)  Listen, I was about to head over to the Quick Stop to pick up a soda. Do you want anything?

MARTY:  Sure, I'll take something. Anything. It doesn't matter to me.  

(Long beat. HANK doesn't move. MARTY looks at him curiously, begins to get impatient, then finally...)

MARTY:  I thought you were going. You know, the Quick Stop, the soda...

HANK:  I am, but right now I'm waiting.

MARTY:  What are you waiting for?

HANK:  For something to happen.

MARTY:  But, the Quick Stop is across the street. How are you going to get the soda if you

don't go...  (face-palm)  I get it!

BLACKOUT

5 Things You May Not Know About Me

You may have noticed that most of my posts here lately have consisted of silly picture compilations, absurd short fiction, and other amusing stuff. Not a whole lot of substance. Not much in the "Keeping It Real" Self-Revelation Department. Admittedly, this was by design – I'm not too good at sharing my thoughts or feelings sometimes. Make that most of the time. But since forcing myself to talk about my thoughts and feelings was one of the main reasons for my starting a blog in the first place, and since I'm long overdue in that area, here goes nothing. Please bear with me if I ramble; this sort of thing is very difficult for me.

So here you have it...."5 Things You May Not Know About Me":


1)  I have struggled with self-esteem, self-confidence, and self-worth issues for most of my life.  Even though my parents were always supportive of me and encouraged me as much as possible, I have never felt like I was good enough. Not that I was not good enough for them necessarily, but not good enough to share air with the rest of the world.

Self-esteem issues kept me from making a lot of close friends in school or church when I was growing up. I didn't think anyone would want to spend a significant amount of time around me, and I didn't blame them for feeling that way (whether or not it was true was irrelevant). I had two best friends from the time I entered junior high till I graduated high school.

One of my two best friends was – not unlike myself – very insecure, mostly unpopular, and somewhat socially ostracized. To this day, he and I are still close, though several hours of physical distance now separate us. We are kindred spirits – quite different in personality, but so alike in our insecurities. We  are the brothers neither one of us ever had.

My other friend was über-intelligent, somewhat popular (and always seeking the attention of others to climb his way higher up the social ladder), and extremely self-confident. His superior likeability actually gained me a few peripheral friends in the coming years, but I never grew as close to any of them. This friend and I went to college together, and still spent a reasonable amount of time hanging out together whenever we weren't in class, or whenever he wasn't spending time with his girlfriend (who later became his fiancee and later his wife). I naturally assumed that we'd keep in touch after college, and – like my other best friend – we'd remain close for the foreseeable future, if not the remainder of our lives. But it didn't quite work out that way.

After college, he moved to a bigger city where he had a nice job in his field waiting for him upon his graduation. I stayed here, and worked a series of somewhat menial jobs in the ensuing years. I attempted to keep in touch with my friend for a while – I was even the best man in his wedding. He would occasionally stop by and see me at work whenever he was in town. But then we lost touch. Not gradually, but abruptly, and without a discernible reason.

With the advent of social media a few years later, I found my friend online and attempted to contact him and "friend" him, albeit virtually this time. Being a very tech-savvy guy, I was sure he'd seen my attempts to contact him, but for some reason he chose to ignore them. A few more half-hearted attempts to contact him in the next year or so all went unanswered, and I finally got the hint. That part of his life – and mine – was over.

It's been years now since I've seen or heard from him, and though I should understand that people and relationships change over time, I can't help but feel rejected in a way.

Finding the love of my life and getting married eight-and-a-half years ago did wonders for my self-esteem – I still don't know why she wanted me, and still wants me for her own – but it still didn't cure all that ails me. Sometimes I watch her sleeping beside me, and wonder – how did this happen? How did I get so lucky? Well, I should probably say blessed. My wife has her share of insecurities as well, mostly stemming from a less-than-stellar childhood. You might think that the two of us coming together might serve to "fix" what's broken in each of us, but it doesn't always work that way. Sometimes it does, and those times are great. And at other times, we feel the self-doubt and anxiety and insecurity in duplicate, and that's not so great.

What's the cure for all of this? I wish I knew. "Succeeding," so to speak, in things like writing, acting, directing, and singing or playing music can be fulfilling and serve as a temporary high, but the lingering doubts are always in the background waiting to resurface. If I could only convince myself that what I already know to be true actually is – that it's not about me anyway, that my ultimate purpose in life is to reflect God's glory – then maybe I'd finally feel full. But it's an everyday process, growing, maturing, failing, and starting all over again.


2)  I've given up on far more dreams than I've pursued.  This one might not come as such a surprise, because I think it's fairly common for most people. I've mentioned this before, but when I was very young – eight in fact – I became fascinated by the Challenger space shuttle explosion – and, like many other boys and girls my age, I wanted to make good on the unfulfilled mission that those brave astronauts never got the chance to complete by becoming an astronaut myself. Like many boyhood (and girlhood) dreams, it quickly passed.

A year or so later, I decided that I was going to become a writer. And so I started writing. Well, that dream isn't one I've given up on, because it's been twenty-five years now, and I still haven't stopped writing. If anything, I've written more in the past five months than I have in the past five years.

A few years after deciding that I was going to become a world-famous writer (the world-famous part's not gonna happen, but still...), I decided that I was also going to become a world-famous movie director, a la Steven Spielberg. Believe it or not, I haven't completely given up on that dream either – well, I have on the "world-famous" part. But time is running out on doing anything about it seriously. It is true that advances in technology and social media have made independent filmmaking not only more affordable, but also more marketable these days. So you never know, but it hasn't happened just yet.

Around the time I started college, I started becoming interested in acting as a potential profession. After taking a few acting classes, and doing a couple of plays at my old church, I found that I had a bit of a knack for it. Enough at least that I seriously considered pursuing a career in show business. But I quickly found, after working alongside far-superior actors and actresses in college, that I would never get far with that dream. Even if I were truly talented as an actor – which I'm not – I'd have to have to have another, far more important trait which I did not then and still do not possess: good looks. Let's face it: Outside of the UK (watch any Masterpiece Theatre production and you'll see what I mean), unattractive actors and actresses simply do not get consistent work in show business. Even parts that call for ugly people are played by beautiful people under tons of makeup. Add to that the fact that I held (and still hold) strong convictions about what I would and would not say or do in plays or films, and it became clear that acting professionally was never going to happen for me.

When I first started playing backyard baseball at the age of thirteen, I found that I had a reasonable amount of talent and thought that maybe I could one day become a professional baseball player. I would stare at one of the many baseball cards I collected and imagine my face on it (although hopefully not a close-up) and then I'd turn it over and look at the statistics on the back, and dream that one day those numbers – or even better ones than those! – would describe my own success and that I'd enjoy a long career in professional baseball. When I actually joined the baseball team in high school a few years later and "rode the pine" all four years, it became clear that I'd never succeed at this level, or any other level in baseball either (or any sport, for that matter).

The other dream that I toyed with off and on for many years was becoming a radio disc jockey. One of the only things I've ever really liked about myself was the sound of my own voice. That feels awkward just typing those words, but it's true. I like the varying contrast between a higher pitch and a deeper register that my voice makes. I like the variety of accents and sounds that I'm able to put on, seemingly at will, and thought that these qualities would play well as a radio announcer and disc jockey. As a preteen, I would often hold a "radio show" (completely imaginary, of course) with my friends in after-school care. I even had call letters and everything. ("You're listening to W-H-A-T. What? Radio!") After college, I applied for a job at several local radio stations, but quickly found that they weren't interested in my particular abilities. For one thing, I had the wrong degree for it: a B.A. in English isn't quite as impressive as a degree in Communications or Broadcast Journalism. For another, who's gonna hire a kid fresh out of college to do a job that – in the case of most local radio stations – some middle-aged guy has been succeeding at for years and who is the undisputed "voice" of the station? Answer: Nobody. I never even got called back for an interview.

All in all, I'm happy with where I am currently. I'm employed full-time as a writer, albeit more on the technical/business side of writing than the creative. I have the time and ability to write creatively on my own, and an instant avenue (this blog) for sharing my writing with the entire blogosphere (or at least those few folks who read me regularly). And with the advent of e-books and readers, I have the opportunity to self-publish my writings to gain an even larger audience for my writing (hopefully).


3)  While I enjoy writing, saying, and doing things that make people laugh, I am often doing so to avoid sharing or dealing with my thoughts, feelings, pain, fears, and insecurities.  Again, I think many people do this, but I'm not talking about many people right now, I'm talking about me. If you see me posting one funny piece after another after another – like I have here lately – it's probably because I have something else on my mind that I don't want to talk about, or don't feel comfortable talking about. It's not always a bad thing that I prefer not to discuss.

Sometimes it's a very good thing, but the timing is wrong. Sometimes it's something that's not entirely appropriate or worthy enough to share with the masses. If it's something worth saying, it will eventually come out. Writing is self-expression for me, so revelation is ultimately inevitable.

Often, I will drop hints or clues in other pieces that I write, in particular in the lines of my "alpha poetry." There's a lot more meaning in those than you see at first glance, believe me. When I am ready to share, I usually do; but it often takes a great deal of time for readiness and circumstances to align perfectly.


4)  I don't always "walk the walk" – and sometimes I don't even "talk the talk."  Like many people, I often put on a facade of "I'm just fine" and pretend that I don't struggle with the things that plague others. It simply isn't true. In particular, I struggle every day with keeping my focus, and this manifests itself in a number of ways.

Sometimes it means that I don't put forth my best effort at work – I get lazy or distracted, and don't give it my all. When I do that, I'm cheating my employer, and ultimately cheating myself.

Sometimes losing my focus means losing my patience – suddenly and without good reason – which leads to me losing my cool – we're talking big-time bursts of rage – and that rage often results in me thinking or saying words and phrases I ought never to think or say. Most of the time, no one else even hears these angry rants. Well, no one else on earth at least.

Sometimes it manifests itself in my looking too long at a movie or TV show or website that I have no business looking at. Maybe I did stumble upon it by accident, but when I don't turn away, my looking becomes intentional.

I'm not proud of these things, and admitting them is difficult. But I'm telling you all this so that you won't get a distorted picture of who I am. I'm not perfect – nobody is. I'm not righteous – nobody is. I'm not a role model – only one Person truly ever was. And He was God in the flesh.

To paraphrase a popular song, when I lose my way, I get back up again. I bask in the forgiveness that He offers me, time and time again, even when I make the same mistakes. I confess my sin, and promise that I won't stumble again. Of course, I do stumble. Because I'm fallen. Everybody is. But some of us are redeemed. And grace is a very good thing.


5)  I have almost been a father twice before.  This is unquestionably the biggest "we don't talk about that" thing in my life. I have always wanted to be a father, and thought that I would be a good one, despite my plethora of problems. My wife Mary has also desired to be a mother, despite her fear that she (or we) would make mistakes that could ruin a child's life. (I would like to think that these fears are common, as are most "what if" questions that prospective parents face.)

We decided when we got married that we would wait a couple of years before we started trying to have kids. A little over two years later, we found ourselves unexpectedly expecting, but understandably concerned. You see, we found out that we were pregnant after Mary went to the doctor to figure out the cause of some sharp lower-abdominal pain she'd been having. In one fell swoop, we got the news: You're pregnant...but there's a problem.

Two visits to the OB/GYN over a ten-day period ultimately confirmed our worst fears. Ours was an ectopic pregnancy: the baby was implanted in the tube and not in the uterus. The baby would not survive. And without surgery, there could be serious health complications for Mary as well. We were devastated, brokenhearted, and back to square one. The irony was that we hadn't even started trying when this happened. It just happened. And then it didn't.

It took quite a while to heal, not only physically but emotionally, from our loss. About a year and a half later, we decided that it was time to try again. Even with an increased risk of another ectopic pregnancy, we prayed about it and felt at peace that the potential reward far outweighed any risks that might be involved. We tried, and we waited. For three years.

The second time we found out we were pregnant was, unfortunately, not so very unlike the first. Sharp abdominal pain – on the same side as before – woke Mary up one night. We thought, hoped, prayed it was just gas. I even went to the 24-hour Walgreens at two o'clock in the morning to buy Gas-X, willing to do whatever it took for her to feel some relief. In the back of both our minds, there was that lingering thought: What if it's not just gas? What if it's...? But no, it couldn't be. After all, the doctor said there was only a 15% chance of us having a second ectopic pregnancy. Which meant there was an 85% chance of us having a normal, successful pregnancy. So it had to be gas, right?

It wasn't. The results of the next day's ultrasound broke our hearts yet again. A second ectopic pregnancy...another doomed baby implanted in the same tube. This time surgery wasn't required. An injection of methotrexate resulted in a miscarriage, and once again we were childless.

A year and a half later – after we had continued trying unsuccessfully to conceive – Mary went back to our OB/GYN doctor, who ran a test to determine if there were any issues with her tubes. The doctor determined that, physiologically, there was no reason why we could not get pregnant again, and there was no reason to think that a future pregnancy would not be successful.

That last doctor's visit was just over a year ago. We continue to hope for a healthy pregnancy....