Friday, March 30, 2007

Long Beautiful Hair

It was time for a haircut this week. Both for myself, the Mrs. and for Isaac. Haven't done the latter yet, we're still deciding on the hairstyle to give him. We're trying to avoid giving him a dew like mine -- otherwise he'll be stuck with it for the rest of his life, seeing as how he's my kid and I've had the same haircut for 15 years now.

Well, not exactly. Summer of my senior year in college, I was anxious for a haircut but had no money. My mom offered to cut it, but on her time. That wasn't a fair compromise for me, it was long and it was a hot summer. So I took the razor and went to the bathroom to begin cutting my own hair. You can see where this is going. I forgot to put a cover on the razor and it slipped off the comb and took off a large chunk of hair, right to the scalp. From there my mother acquiesced -- but she was not happy. Not at all. She shaved my head reluctantly, the whole time stewing at her foolish and impatient 21-year-old son who saw the whole thing as a joke(how else could I see it? I had no choice). And since then I've shaved it one other time. Two years ago the wife did it. I had a steady job and had wanted to do it again for awhile. And the thing is, it looked pretty good too.

Outside of those two instances is I've had the same haircut for 15 years. It used to be a Caesar cut. Now it's a "#2 on the sides and point cut on top". "Point-cutting" is something my stylist (and by stylist I mean the lady who gives me my $12 hair-cut) suggested. I've got to admit, it looks pretty good these days. Like today. Perfect hair day.

I envy the people who can change their hairstyles and it look great. I've tried to grow my hair out. It doesn't look good at all. One guy I work with rarely cuts his hair or his beard. In the summer he keeps everything shaved. In the winter, he grows everything out. An old friend used to do the same. He rotated seasonally between very long hair and a shaved head. I envied that. I still do. Though I never envied his premature greying.

In Sunday School growing up I remember being taught that God knows the number of hairs on your head. And I thought, "Wow. I wonder how many I have." It was a really cool concept. Now, well, the idea strikes me as a kind of Divine Autism. God acting like a sort of supernatural Rain Man. Honestly though, what should one expect from God? If God is God we can assume he either invented or established mathematics (by this I mean, is there a case where 2+2 could not of equaled 4?). So, we should expect God to be good with numbers and with counting. One exception to this idea is, of course, the Feeding of the 5,000. There was some kind of bending of the rules of mathematics in that story. Or, maybe, the perfection of mathematics.

And if God knows the exact number of hairs on our head, does He then know the exact length and cut they should be? In Heaven will we have the perfect hair cut? Will there be Barbershops and Hair Salons in Heaven? Does God get as frustrated with us as we do when we're having a bad hair day? Or suffering from a bad haircut? We know God as the Divine Doctor, can we also identify Him as the Divine Barber?

If so, I hope God knows how to point-cut.

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Fill'er Up? Y/N.

Stopped off at the gas station today. The immaculate Speedway on the way to work. An elderly woman flags me down as I'm beginning to fill my car up. Her pump is beeping. We figure out she needs to put the nozzle back on the machine and then start the process over again. She does and it works. But I couldn't help, as I filled up my car, wonder how she had gotten to that point. And the answer was pretty clear.

Before I even insert my credit card, the gas pump posits to me: Are you a Speedy Rewards Member? I search my mind for the occurent belief to answer the question. No, I say. And hit the blue, "NO", button. Then, I slide my card in. I remove it, as I am directed by the gas pump. Then another question: Would you like a car wash? As it's currently raining, and I'm getting wet along with my car, I say "NO" again. Then, yet another question: Would you like to try 2 Nathan's Jumbo Hot Dogs for $2? No. I'm going to Wendy's. Plus I don't want a jumbo dog. Maybe a regular. But I don't have that option. I, again, press "NO". So far, I think the way I've answered these questions makes me smarter than a fifth-grader -- I think. I was waiting for: Would you like to buy gas today? Y/N.

From this point on I can fill up my car with gas. But as for that elderly lady, I think she either a) answered incorrectly or b) wasn't expecting the gas pump pop quiz. So what's the deal with this? Why can't I just fill up my car with gas? Why can't I just pump and go? The answer to these questions can't be discovered by pressing a simple red or blue button.

But if I ever own a gas station, I'd have some fun with that annoying feature. Like: Do you believe in God? Y/N. Are you happy today? Y/N. Is blue your favorite color? Y/N. If you had a million dollars, would you give it all away for an extra year of life? Y/N. Have you ever been to Easter Island? Y/N. Do you watch PBS? Y/N. Is Seinfeld the greatest television show ever? Y/N. Do you know who shot J.R.? Y/N. Have you ever read a good book? Y/N. Can you dunk a basketball? Y/N. Would you give your life to save a complete stranger? Y/N. Do Leprechauns really exist? Y/N. Is there such a thing as a tesseract? Y/N.

I'd ask questions that make people think. That make people smile. That are just plain stupid. Just think how accurate these questions could be to get the correct gauge (note the pun) of the American public. Better than phone surveys and exit polls and CNN/N.Y. Times/Women's Day polls.

Instead, now that you pretty much have to pre-pay for gas (which is annoying 'cause I used to fill up my car then go inside and get a Frappucino and Chocolate Chip Mini-Bites and pay for it all at once. That way, the Mrs. never knew I was snacking or "eating breakfast out when there's cereal and coffee cake at home". And it all got counted against the gas - which we always over budget for - in the budget.).

One day I'll choose the red button and see how deep the rabbit hole goes, though. I'll get that car wash one day.

Sunday, March 25, 2007

A Deserving, Quiet Night

Caught Austin City Limits tonight. A show I frequently try to watch, but it usually airs about midnight every Saturday, and some nights I'm just too tired to enjoy the unique music. But I tuned in tonight 'cause Coldplay was on. Say what you will about them in terms of good music, but I like Coldplay. Clever melodies that stick with you. Music that always strikes the right now, grooves if you will. And lyrics that stick. Plus, the Scientist was a really cool music video.

Anyway, midway through the concert Michael Stipe came on for a couple of songs. I've always been a big REM fan. Especially since I spent all-night one summer listening to one particular song repeatedly with an old friend. A song, whose lyrics as I listen to them now, are eerie. And as I remember that night, I remember this song. And as I remember this song, I remember that night. Sometimes, music does that. It acts like an all-encompasing sense. When you taste, touch, see, smell and hear everything. All at once. And it takes you back and moves you forward all at the same time. Realizing where you are now, where you're going and we're you've been.

Well, as Chris Martin introduced the song, he said: "In my opinion, this is the best song ever written." Then, he broke into the piano opening of Nightswimming. I know I've mentioned it before, but I love this song. Now it wasn't the best rendition of the song. Lacking much of the emotion I hear in the album version. But still enough to make me close my eyes and remember that night where my friend and I debated life and love and everything in between. And some of the lyrics.

That debate settled on the line sung as "a bright, tight forever drum". We decided (in the days before Google and Wikipedia could settle any bet) it was actually "a bright tide forever drawn". Well, a couple of years later, still haunted by the song and hearing it infrequently, I submitted my school yearbook quote as "A bright tide forever drawn". Seemed appropriate, it being my favorite song. It being an obscure lyric that brought the whole mysticism of past experiences like high school together in one, solid line. Poetic, as I like to say.

Coldplay's finishing out with my favorite song by them, "Fix You". Great song. Kicks in perfectly. Just the right note. Then it drives through the end.

Some nights, like this one, like the one that street light on a camp road reveals fresh in my memory from years ago, I just love music.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

My Turn(ey)

Even with the arrival of the baby, I did manage to make my 2007 NCAA Tournament picks. I even submitted them into the office pool in the nick of time. And so far, not too bad. I asked Isaac for help, and he had little to give honestly, but together we picked and watched the games this past weekend. So a couple of thoughts first.

1. Greg Oden is a thug. That was a dirty, intentional foul and OSU should've lost the game.

2. Mike Barnes (Texas Coach) is an idiot. How do you not call a timeout when your team is getting trampled by a 17-3 run? How? And how do you fail to post up your best player on smaller guards? Forget that, try getting him the ball period. Kevin Durant got the ball twice during that USC run. Ugh...so upset at this outcome.

3. Going into the 2nd round I had 14 winners to pick out of a possible 16 games. I was 13 of 13 heading into the Texas game. I had Texas. I had Texas winning it all. I hate Rick Barnes. Complete moron. I finished with 13 of 16 winners picked and in 13th place overall in the office pool.

4. I still have an outside shot at winning the office pool. But OSU must lose. But I've been rooting for that all along. I despise the buckeyes. They should've lost Saturday (but ended up winning the best game of the tournament so far. Go figure). How Isaac slept through my screaming and yelling during this game is also beyond me.

5. I'll miss Gus Johnson. A fantastic announcer. I get chills thinking about his call of the OSU game and the UCLA game from last year. Great play-by-play guy. Why CBS isn't letting him continue is beyond me.

My picks for the final four are intact, well, except for Texas. I have Florida, UCLA, Texas A&M and had Texas. I'm leading a couple of online groups but we'll see. Without my National Champion, I don't stand much of a chance. Can't say I've heard of anyone winning without having the eventual champion.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

On The Baby Mix Tape

For those of you who were wondering, I did finish the Baby Mix Tape I once blogged about. In fact, I finished it awhile ago and never blogged about the final cut. Now there are also two smaller mixes made up of faster and slower songs that made the final cut. A Day Baby Mix Tape and a Night Baby Mix Tape, if you will.

Today we gave it it's first run. When CCR, Looking Out My Back Door, came on, he settled down immediately. Wide-eyed and peaceful. Then Now and Always, by David Gray followed. I tried to sing it to him, but he scowled. I love that song. It reminds me of him, "You're in my mind baby, now and always". By the time Shelter, by Ray Lamontagne, came on, he was fast asleep. But as I listen to it, I think this is a pretty good mix.

Many of you will know little of some of the 70 or so songs. Others may know all of them. But let me know what you think.

BABY MIX TAPE
Wonderwall Oasis
Faith My Eyes Caedmon’s Call
Name Goo Goo Dolls
Grace U2
Where You Are Bebo Norman
Bubble Toes Jack Johnson
Jenny Wren Paul McCartney
Down On The Corner Creedence Clearwater Revival
Lookin' Out My Back Door Creedence Clearwater Revival
Have You Ever Seen The Rain?Creedence Clearwater Revival
When You Say You Love Me Josh Groban
Come Away With Me Norah Jones
The Nearness Of You Norah Jones
Lord You Have My Heart Delirious?
Thank You For Saving Me Delirious?
King Of Love Delirious?
Calico Skies Paul McCartney
Something In The Way James Taylor
How Sweet It Is James Taylor
She's Got A Way Billy Joel
Lullabye Billy Joel
To Make You Feel My Love Billy Joel
Better Together Jack Johnson
Banana Pancakes Jack Johnson
No Other Way Jack Johnson
Sitting, Waiting, Wishing Jack Johnson
Do You Remember Jack Johnson
Thy Mercy Caedmon's Call
I Boast No More Caedmon's Call
Nightswimming R.E.M.
Home Michael Bublé
Faithful To Me (Reprise) Jennifer Knapp
A Little More Jennifer Knapp
Martyrs And Thieves Jennifer Knapp
You And Me Lifehouse
Baby, Now That I've Found You Alison Krauss & Union Station
But You Know I Love You Alison Krauss & Union Station
When You Say Nothing At All Alison Krauss & Union Station
Down To The River To Pray Alison Krauss & Union Station
Hymn Jars Of Clay
Sweet Afton Nickel Creek
Amie Damien Rice
When God Made Me Neil Young
On Jordan's Stormy Banks I Stand Jars Of Clay
Lover Derek Webb
Sometimes By Step Rich Mullins
If I Stand Rich Mullins
Boy Like Me / Man Like You Rich Mullins
Hold Me Jesus Rich Mullins
Be Still And Know Steven Curtis Chapman
What's Simple Is True Jewel
Pass Me Not Fernando Ortega
Be Thou My Vision Fernando Ortega
I Will Praise Him, Still Fernando Ortega
When All Thy Mercies Fernando Ortega
Give Me Jesus Fernando Ortega
The Hammer Holds Bebo Norman
Where The Angels Sleep Bebo Norman
A Page Is Turned Bebo Norman
Every Grain Of Sand Derek Webb
Shelter Ray LaMontagne
Hold You In My Arms Ray LaMontagne
Miracle Foo Fighters
Now And Always David Gray
The One I Love David Gray
The Hand Song Nickel Creek
Beautiful Boy (DARLING BOY) John Lennon
The Things We've Handed Down Marc Cohn
Like A Star Corinne Bailey Rae

Monday, March 19, 2007

On His Name

So I gave you hints. No one was close. Though I did appreciate the effort. Goes to show we picked a pretty good name. That was the consensus anyway. A strong, powerful and simple name. One that resonates. Perhaps it's the nature of learning a name for the first time, but it was repeated several times by people when they were informed of his name. Rolling it, as it seemed, over their tongues like fine wine. Now, here's why we named him as we did.

Isaac was a very simple choice, but full of profundity. A key component of the way I view life is laughter. With a smile. Not that life is a big joke with a punchline. But that life is laughter in the sense of that big, belly laugh. That laugh that brings tears to your eyes. That laugh that hurts almost. Life is to be enjoyed. And with that joy I associate laughter and mirth and humor. And so, Isaac, meaning laughter, was the obvious choice. A good name to begin with, not uncommon, but not Jacob or Noah either. Not topping the Top Names Charts. But with it's meaning, it embodied something I hold at the forefront of my world-view. And so, Isaac.

James is a family name. There have been many James' along my side of the family. From Great, great grandparents on down. There's lineage in the name James. But there has always been one person I have associated that name with and it's my father. We chose to name him after "theoldman" as you know him on this blog. But as I know him: everything I hope to be as a man, husband, friend and father. So to name my son after the most important man in my life was a way to honor him in some way, though I don't think I ever fully could. So it will serve always to remind me of my father and how I have the hope that with my son, I could be the same father that my dad was to me.

Thus, Isaac James. Known to some as A.J.; I.J.; Angus (a story for another post); Jimmy; Izzy (the nickname I gave to him and have since been forbidden to use. Though I have this secret hope that when he's 12 his friends will give him this nickname. Then Mother will have little choice!). But known to his Mother and Father as Issac James for the above reasons. And will continue to be known as Isaac James for thousands of other reasons in the coming days, weeks, months and years.

A Merely, Mighty Inch

My sister will appreciate this post. It's a poem. In honor of Isaac's first inch of growth since his birth. Now I wrote this after his first ultrasound when he was approximately one inch big. Now, he's 21 inches. And I'm still amazed by it all.


A MERELY, MIGHTY INCH

What love is there in spaces wide,
In oceans, lands, seas and skies.
The same love is there and it fits
In all of that merely, mighty inch.

Where life begins and carries forth
To tears and love and merry mirth
Not time, nor space, nor size deters,
That love that grows.

And as it were
Reflects, really, all we know
That God was man in manner and means
How then, as now, holy heaven teamed
As divine and man were surely pinched
Into that merely, mighty inch.

Where and why and how indeed
We are left to ponder. So it seems
What was so small, yet loved so large.
God. Imaged in this finite world
Bound and formed in mortals' fall.

You're reflective of that divine call
That God 'came man, so to wrench
Us all - in that merely, mighty inch.

Saturday, March 17, 2007

Not As Much Time To Think, Actually

Isaac's well this Saturday morning. The Mrs. and I are doing well too. It's been a busy, stress-filled and joyously happy week, as one can imagine. So, I haven't had much chance to think...to reflect.

But I will say Isaac has enjoyed March Madness. And he's doing pretty well with his picks: 22 wins in the first round, but just about all of the Sweet 16 is still around. Isaac's in a pool at my work and if he wins, I'm gonna get him a Nintendo Wii. Seriously. He picked Texas to win, which made me happy. Kevin Durant is fantastic. And this is the first of many sporting events in the coming months we'll watch together (or with Grandpy). The Masters. Opening Day (he's got his outfit already).


Also, serious props to my Uncle and Aunt this morning. Received a great fruit basket from them (it's baseball themed). And there's not much left of it right now. And on that note thank you to all of you who've called or emailed or blogged your thanks. The Mrs. and I appreciate it all. We're all doing well. Very well.




A few of things I'll explain here shortly is his name. I know I gave hints, and I'll explain them shortly. In the news business, we call that a tease. That way I keep you coming back. In the meantime, enjoy the pictures.

The pictures count thus far: 164.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Because I've Had Plenty Of Time To Think

There's not a whole lot for me to do. I take pictures. I take care of the Mrs. I arrange family visits. I hold my son. And I think.

I wonder if years from now he'll wonder what happened on the day he was born. Not much, honestly. No big sporting events, no Boston team won -- or even played. Not a lot of news. Reports of his birth were the big story in our newsroom. It was pretty much his day.

I've certainly been watching too much American Idol when I see one of the nursery nurses and think to myself, "She looks a little like Antonella". I really do hate that show.

Remember "O Draconian Devil" from the Da Vinci Code? Well babies have this thing...well...let's just say the proper phrase should be "O Meconium Devil". Trust me on this.

Not a lot of famous people born on March 12. He may very well be the first. I have high hopes for this.

Interesting coincidence: March 12 is the birthday of Jack Kerouac. He's an author. Wrote "On the Road", described as ''a magnificent single paragraph several blocks long, rolling, like the road itself." I've never read it. Though I might give it a shot. But here's the coincidence. Kerouac was born in Lowell, Massachusetts. I grew up in Lowell. Lowell is my hometown. It's where I'm from. It's a coincidence, sure. But it's a fun one.

What's not a coincidence are the tales that I've been told from friends about the early hours before Isaac's birth. Several have told me stories of how they were moved to pray in hours before morning yesterday. Prayers which I am forever grateful for. Knowing that the prospect of C-section was all but definite and somehow she was able to deliver the baby herself -- shocking even the doctor -- well those prayers were answered. Thank you to those who prayed. It brings me enormous awe, quite humbling really, knowing that God is interested on such a personal level. That there is that much at stake.

Anyway, I've got highly more theoretical thoughts than Antonella and Jack Kerouac. There's not much else to do. But for now, the Mrs. and Little Man are doing quite well today. Day Two. But my thoughts from a previous day looking forward to this particular morning, serve me well right now.


WHEN YOU COME(YOU BRING MY LOVE WITH YOU)


You bring my love with you,

Whenever you should come.
Don't forget or leave behind,
My love that's grown through time.

Grasp it in your holding hands;
Hold it on your tasteless tongue;
It can't be lost, but hold still tight,

You who bring my love with life.

That it's bigger than you

I am aware.
But somehow it does fit
(like you in there).

My love for you it sits,
In such tiny fingertips.
However big you may one day be,
This love will tower over you,
Like the nearest tree.

But don't worry, you can hold my love,
And bring it with you, when you come.

So now my baby, my child, has come
And he has brought with him my love.

Monday, March 12, 2007

And Here Comes The Baby

So I can think of few things more deserving of a live-type blog than the birth of a child. So here goes. And it's going to be long.

3:21 - Jen wakes me up with a start. Through tears, in obvious pain, she tells me that she's in labor. Now I'm a morning person normally. And being told that my son's coming was more than enough to rouse me from sleep.

3:30 - After a couple more contractions, she's still hesitant to go to the hospital. I convince her to at least get ready, that way, by the time the contractions have hit an hour, we'll be on our way.

3:50 - About 5 contractions later we're all of a sudden unsure if we should go. I've already showered and packed and stored away a Frappucino for the trip. Then the mother of contractions hit her and we resume getting ready.

4:10 - She's showered and is putting on make-up, doing her hair. She has never looked more beautiful.

4:20 - We're in the car. I've skipped over all the stuff I've done in the past hour. Shower, clean-up the house a little, prepare my breakfast, check my email, watch some stupid show on PBS, make sure the overnight bag is packed, packed the computer, iPod, mouse, digital camera, cords and rubbed Jen's back with every contraction.

4:25 - It's funny, usually I get yelled at for my driving. For being too aggressive, for challenging too many yellow lights. In the middle of the worst pain yet, I run my first of two red lights. I top out on this semi-main road at 60. Still, I couldn't drive fast enough.

4:28 - I hit the highway and do 80 to the hospital.

4:33 - Pull up the "baby delivering spot" designated for those about to give birth. Every spot is full and there's no valet at 4:30 in the morning. I park illegally and off we go into the hospital.

4:37 - Fighting to maintain a minute more of empowerment, Jen shrugs herself out of wheelchair. I love her fight sometimes, it's very amusing. I'm proud of her. Of what she's doing. She couldn't be any more beautiful.

4:50 - 8:30 - We are admitted and all the normal procedures are done by doctors and nurses who do this sort of thing all the time. They talk over us, about the mundane things before them this day. We're a little preoccupied to notice and I think they know that. And I know what's coming. I hear the excitement in the voices of my parents, also now awakened by a 5 am phone call they've been waiting for. By my sister's screams of joy knowing she'll be arriving in Columbus today and so will her nephew. They know what's coming. But as I write this, a few minutes before 9, having been up for 6 hours, having seen my wife in pain, feeling the baby kick, hearing his heart beat, being told he's coming today, I realize I have no idea what's in store. Even as we pray together, in one of the few moments of solitude we've had this morning, the words come out as one would expect: "We praise you Lord. We give you thanks for this miracle before us." But there's something more there that brings me to tears, something larger than such simple and pedestrian praises I offer to the Creator of this life I'm about to be a part of. And I'm reduced to tears. To quite, shaking, fluttering tears. I know what's coming. But I have no idea.

9:34 - A spot of incredible news. Two weeks ago we found out that Jen was probably going to have to have a C-section because the baby hadn't dropped. It wasn't what we wanted to hear, what any expecting parents want to hear. We've prayed hard for two weeks, that the baby would drop and she could deliver him without the surgery. There are many reasons why we wanted it this way, the main reason was that we could be together as a family in the moments following his birth. Well, according the last check, we may have this baby before noon! And have it normally. He's dropped and she's ready to start pushing here shortly. The doctor and nurse we're shocked. We're ecstatic! I don't quite have words. But I'll be a dad shortly, and then I'll probably talk too much.

10:45 - Decide to shut my phone off because people keep calling. It's understandable...but I've got to help the Mrs. focus. And we're getting close.

11:10 - The nurse comes in and tells Jen to get ready. He's coming!

11:15 - She starts pushing.

11:27: I can see the top of the head. He's got hair on his head. It's so absolutely incredible.

11:40: They call the doctor over and his heads all about out. It's really pointy.

11:50: Out he comes. In one magnificent push, Jen gets his head out. Had to be one of the most surreal moments imaginable. When the baby's head comes out...my gosh...it is amazing.

11:51: One push later, he's out. Surreal. I was there. I saw it. Amazing. Out came another life. Out came my son. From this little point and me thinking he was going to be quite small to an entire baby in the hands of the doctor. What an overflowing moment.

11:52-12:00 - We hold the baby. First Jen. Then me as we get weight and measurements. He is so very small. So very tiny. So very full of life. Almost lidless black-blue eyes. They blink every so often. A mouth getting used to breathing and crying all at once. Skin cool to the touch. Soft. Plush. I'm not sure what he must have thought. I'm 27 and I have no thoughts on those intimate, immediate moments where I held my son for the first time. His eyes. His tousled hair. And movable fingers and toes. His mouth agape. Seems quite a paradox that something so small could contain a moment so large.

12:20 - Calls are made. Everyone's happy. I'm beyond happy. Jen's beyond happy.

12:25 - A quiet prayer. The first Guest family prayer. Me. My wife. My son. My Savior. Thank you Lord for Isaac James. 7 lbs. 11 oz. 20 inches.

Friday, March 09, 2007

The Tyranny Of American Idol

I detest this show. I've never watched it through a full season and I have no intention ever to. It's the dumbest show on television. But, this season, the Mrs. is enjoying it to the point where she wants to watch it. And she's pregnant. So, she gets what she wants. Meaning I've had to sit through more than a few episodes. And, truthfully, I try hard to be either out of the house or out of the room when it's on. I detest this show.

But since I've been watching an episode here or there (6 total I believe, including 3 results shows), I've formed an even stronger opinion. Especially after last night. I've always found the fact that there are website urging viewers to vote for the worst of the competitors amusing. A way to buck the system. To prove the show is flawed and stupid. It's still funny that this works, as it clearly did last night when Sundance lost to the guy with Farrah Fawcett hair. Obviously, this show is a popularity contest, not one based on actual talent (of which about 4 of the singers can actually sing).

Another favorite is the fact that the judges are always stunned by the results. Always gets me. And for all the ripping Simon takes, he's just about always right with his criticism. Randy and Paula are fools.

Still even more amusing is the actual talent. Again, very few of them can actually sing. I can't sing. I've come to terms with this. As the saying goes, it takes one to know one, it takes someone who continually sings off key to know when someone else is off key. Most of the singers are usually flat -- just a tad bit off. But Randy and Paula sing their praises -- ironically --and are just as off key as the actual singers. And Simon chastises them and everyone boos. It's the dumbest show on television. And don't throw numbers at me. Don't tell me that America disagrees. America's stupid.

Meanwhile fantastic shows like Arrested Development, Studio 60, SportsNight and Scrubs get canned or buried in midseason time slots because they can't find an audience (Would I even want this audience anyway?).

This is what is meant by Mills' "tyranny of the majority" and Plato's "just because they are the majority does not make them right".

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

I Just Called...To Say...

It's reaching a new level. I'm not calling anyone. Period. Because we're so close to the due date (this Sunday), that any people I call always think I'm calling to announce the birth (and his name, for no one knows that). So I'm not calling anyone. Last week I called my mom and felt bad, because I know when she sees the caller ID she's thinking she's got a new grandson. Sorry for that mom. So I won't be talking to you anytime soon. Maybe this is in my head. But I definitely get the feeling that me calling someone is like playing a cruel joke on them.

If you'd like to talk to me. Please call me or email me. I am making no more phone calls.

Also, in case you're wondering about the name of our child, here are the hints:

1. The name is Biblical. But I'm not saying which testament.
2. If you know me, this name should come as no surprise (obviously, this clue, along with the first throws out Nomar and Brady).
3. There was a nickname I was using. The Mrs. disliked it so much that she said if I continued to use it the actual name would be disallowed.
4. Only two people have guessed it and they don't know they have. This means I'm not telling you even if you guess right.

There are four of you out there that know the name, either through a slip up or us testing it out on you. I ask you do not reveal yourselves or the name. In other words, you are not allowed to participate in the guessing. Thank you.

Monday, March 05, 2007

On The Third Dimension

There is still no baby. It is now March 5th. The due date is less than one week away. Obviously, I'm thinking a great deal about this. To say it's always on my mind is an understatement. And, rest assured, when he comes, I will post about it. There will probably be some pictures as well.

But it occurs to me that the pictures will be lacking. There is that saying about them being worth a thousand words. In some cases, that is a conservative estimate. Especially if the picture is good. But there's something about pictures that often is lacking. It is, what is typically, and what I'm calling, the third dimension.

Length and Height are the first two. Pictures you will soon see will certainly elicit those two dimensions for you. But, as for depth, well, it occurs to me that no picture, whether held tacitly in the hands or not, will bestow that dimension upon the viewer. Such is the case here as I discovered laying awake at this late hour.

You will not be able to understand the depth in the coming photos. They will lack the essential quality of what makes something 3D (Now I could 3D the images for you which would be cool. And honestly, what happened to 3D? How did that not ever catch on?). This will be the case in both the tangible and metaphysical aspects.

I am realizing the depth of my love for this child. For my son. And no picture can capture it. And no word can hold it all in its letters.

As I ponder this, I am also left at the mercy of H.G. Wells' supposed Fourth Dimension: Time. And given my feelings towards the 3rd Dimension right now and this unceasing and insatiable desire to experience it by holding him in my arms for the first time, I am finding it hard to practice the mores of said dimension, namely: patience.

Tomorrow, may "I wake to the perfect patience of mountains."

Saturday, March 03, 2007

Death Cab For Squirrel

Recently I saw a squirrel get killed. It first fell out of a tree and onto the street. That was funny enough for me. It's like seeing someone trip and fall. Squirrels live in trees; they know how to climb like people know how to walk. Sometimes, I guess, squirrels forget.

Then the squirrel, slightly stunned at this point, saw a car coming towards him. First the squirrel hopped to the left. Then it went right. Then left again. Finally, the fateful decision that, for a second, probably tasted a little like Turkish Delight. The squirrel went right again. Bounding across the median, just narrowly missing the front left tire of an SUV and out of harms way. Then it ran headlong into the back left tire of a yellow VW bug. It careened up into the air and landed. Stiff. Bouncing like a baseball on cement. I swerved to miss it, in the chance it could still be alive. The car behind me made sure it wasn't.

Turn Around Backwards

Two years ago I was without a full-time job. We were living in an apartment in a sketchy section of Wheeling on virtually nothing. I had been unemployed for about 10 months, aside from 10-15 hours at the local GAP and 5 hours a week as a real-estate show editor for a cable access show. Again, in Wheeling, WV. Then a door opened up that I quickly shut, only to crawl through a window.

I was hired by the NBC Affiliate here in Columbus as a photographer. Then ONN called with a producer opening. The interview went well. I admitted I already had a job I was starting Monday, but I wanted this job. I would need to know by Friday at the latest. She expedited the whole process right there, assured me pending a drug test and confirmation from the news director, it was mine. And it was, two days later.

And now I am changing jobs again. I'll still be working at ONN where I love the people. But I'll no longer be a producer, I'm becoming a director. Here's the proof (the AG is me).

Two years ago was one of the toughest periods in my marriage, in my faith and in my life. No job, no money, no prospects. But I look back very fondly on that time. I grew a lot as a person. I was really blessed.

Now I look forward and to an equally uncertain future with a kid on the way (not here yet), grad school up in the air, and a new set of skills I'll need to learn. And when I look forward, I always feel it's a good thing to look back. To know where you've come from. It's the only way you can figure out where you're going.

THE TITLE OF THIS POST IS FROM A SONG. ANYONE KNOW WHAT SONG?