whopper

This morning I was forwarded a link to this catch of an 8'2" 244.5 lb Alligator Gar shot with a bow at Lake Sam Rayburn in Texas:

video

That's a big fish.

0-0 loss

I'm thoroughly and completely depressed after watching Sam's soccer team lose 0-0 this evening to a significantly inferior team. The kids are in bed, Beth is out gambling with the neighborhood bunko gang, so I think I'll attempt to type the blues away.

How can you lose if the score is naught-naught? Well, technically you can't -- unless you've had 35 shots on goal, and they've had ZERO. It was that bad.

I gave Sam the same old tired cliches about what a great effort he had, etc, etc., but honestly other than a few hugs, there's not much I could say. (I have to admit that it was especially frustrating that a goal Sam scored was taken back because the center ref refused to listen to his AR -- but that's still no excuse when you've had so many chances. Argh.)

...

Beth has convinced me I needed to read a book she just finished, Peace Like a River. (She recommends them after she has determined they are at a reading level my attention span can handle.)

Here's an excerpt that hit me:

"Let me say something about that word: miracle. For too long it's been used to characterize things or events that, though pleasant, are entirely normal. Peeping chicks at Easter time, spring generally, a clear sunrise after an overcast week--a miracle, people say, as if they've been educated from greeting cards. I'm sorry, but nope. Such things are worth our notice very day of the week, but to call them miracles evaporates the strength of the word.

"Real miracles bother people, like strange sudden pains unknown in medical literature. It's true: They rebut every rule all we good citizens take comfort in. Lazarus obeying orders and climbing up out of the grave--now there's a miracle, and you can bet it upset a lot of folks who were standing around at the time. When a person dies, the earth is generally unwilling to cough him back up. A miracle contradicts the will of earth."

...

Beth just walked in. She lost the most games, and came away a $6 winner. Don't ask. It's a complicated game. Way to go, Honey.

...

If you attended the workshop this past weekend, Wade and Marvin are looking for comments.

...

There are several interesting reactions to Soulforce being welcomed at ACU on Mike Cope's blog. Rachel and I spoke briefly tonight about the forum she attended today. She wasn't able to stay for the whole forum, but did say they had some good discussion. I'm thankful that ACU was so gracious and loving. And glory for God can't help but come from this.

Why the Cubs are doomed

Being born and raised a St. Louis Card fan, I have no problem with the Cubs curse and/or Steve Bartman circa 2003.

I just read something today from the Bill James HBA that really blew me away, and should give every Cub fan the only reason they need to drop their beloved Cubbies like a hot potato (or a Luis Castillo foul ball) and start rooting for a real team.

The 1906 Cubs hold the record for the most games won in a single season (116). This in and by itself is an amazing number of wins (especially considering it was only a 154 game season at the time).

But now consider these records held by the Cubbies for number of wins over the span of multiple seasons:

Two seasons: Cubs, 223 (1906-07)
Three seasons: Cubs, 322 (1906-08)
Four seasons: Cubs, 426 (1906-09)
Five seasons: Cubs, 530 (1906-10)
Six seasons: Cubs, 622 (1905-10)
Seven seasons: Cubs, 715 (1904-10)
Eight seasons: Cubs, 807 (1904-11)
Nine seasons: Cubs, 898 (1904-12)
Ten seasons: Cubs, 986 (1904-13)

"Holy Cow!" (said with a bit of a slur in remembrance of Harry.)

Given that amazing number of wins over such a long stretch, the odds of them even approaching the World Series again have to be monumentally stacked against them.

I'm OK with that.

The Curse of the Were-Rabbit

Family movie night tonight featured "Wallace & Gromit: The Curse of the Were-Rabbit".

The Carrs give it 5 stars.

Bravo for a very imaginative, entertaining G-rated movie.

humble men with important messages

Max Lucado had a simple, but powerful message tonight about the importance of unity among believers in Jesus Christ. (I appreciated the fact that he didn't limit unity to just the Christian Churches and the Churches of Christ.)

There are speakers that I really enjoy listening to, and I think the main reason is because they are simply interested getting across the message -- everything else is secondary.

They don't talk about themselves and they don't talk about their books.

They don't compare themselves with others under the guise of humility.

They have an urgency to their message and they waste little time on fluff.

Sure, a sprinkling of humor helps -- but it doesn't detract from their message.

I listened to two men tonight that fit that bill -- Rick Atchley and Max Lucado.

Marvin Phillips is another.

Humble men with urgent messages speaking passionately from their hearts.

...not the size of the dog...

Last night, my 12yo son Sam was poring over the Eurosport catalog that had just come in the mail. He was showing us soccer t-shirts with sayings, and then he says, I like this one the best:

"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog."

I told him that saying had been around a long time and Beth said it fit him well.

Yet another gem by Mark Twain.

drool bubble

When Beth and I were first engaged, we toured Europe with Uncle Bud and the Harding Acappella Chorus. We determined that if we could tolerate each other through 5 weeks of hot bus rides through Europe, we could tolerate about anything either of us could dish out.

One story that came out of that trip, had a great deal to do with tolerance (Beth's) -- and drool (mine) -- on my beloved's forehead. I wanted to jot down that story tonight, but while searching tonight for visual aids, I was distracted by this fairly amazing doggy drool bubble...



I'll have to save the personal drool story for another post.

I can't believe this...

T-Rich signs with the Vikes?!?

#49 is probably THE best blocking fullback in the NFL.

He's one of the reasons Priest and LJ have racked up record numbers of yards and TDs over the last few years.

He can catch the ball out of the backfield.

From all appearances, he was a gentleman, a team leader, a community leader, and a general all-around good guy.

Carl, Carl, Carl... I'm afraid you've made a mistake.

you are needed

If you can spare some pocket change, here is a chance to donate to a worthwhile cause.

If the fight to cure diabetes doesn't stir you, please consider donating to the American Cancer Society.

Or, consider adding to your support for the Red Cross.

Or, send something to all three.

There are so many needs and so few contributors.

Please... and, Thank You.

A hard headed woman

(afomft cont'd.)

26. A hard headed woman


Never agreeing just to agree.

Always challenging.

Never boring.

I have one.

I love her.


I'm looking for a hard headed woman,
One who will take me for myself,
And if I find my hard headed woman,
I will need nobody else, no, no.

I'm looking for a hard headed woman,
One who will make me do my best,
And if I find my hard headed woman
I know the rest of my life will be blessed -- yes, yes, yes.

I know a lot of fancy dancers,
people who can glide you on a floor,
They move so smooth but have no answers.
When you ask "Why'd you come here for?"
"I don't know" "Why?"

I know many fine feathered friends
but their friendliness depends on how you do.
They know many sure fired ways
to find out the one who pays
and how you do.

I'm looking for a hard headed woman,
One who will make me feel so good,
And if I find my hard headed woman,
I know my life will be as it should -- yes, yes, yes.

I'm looking for a hard headed woman,
One who will make me do my best,
And if I find my hard headed woman...

Stephen aka Cat aka Yusuf got that one right.

Fingersmellers

Another classic post from Rory. This time about fingersmellers, and human social interaction, and weirdos. Cool combo.

Of course, it brought to my mind one of the most well-known fingersmellers of our time, Mary Katherine Gallagher:

tenderloin doggy meals?

Wow, those are two fat Corgis.

We have a Corgi (Reilly), and we thought *he* was beefy.

Reilly looks like the canine version of Jack La Lanne compared to those porkers.

I guess one too many tenderloin room service doggy meals will do that to you.

==

?

1890's Baseball

Baseball as America's pastime has such a rich history. Here's an excerpt from The New Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract, from the chapter describing how the game was played in the 1890's:

[John] McGraw recalled a game in which "the other team had a runner on first who started to steal second, but ... spiked our first basemon on the foot. Our man retaliated by trying to trip him.

He got away, but at second Heinie Reitz tried to block him off while Hughie...covered the bag to take the throw and tag him. The runner evaded Reitz and jumped feet first at Jennings to drive him away from the bag. Jennings dodged the flying spikes and threw himself bodily at the runner, knocking him flat.

In the meantime the batter hit our catcher over the hands with his bat so he couldn't throw, and our catcher trod on the umpire's feet with his spikes and shoved his big mitt in his face so he couldn't see the play."

How can you not love this game? :)

...

Cards beat the Evil Empire last night, 4.3. Woo!

A couple of my favorite managers:

(Joe, you'll always be a Cardinal in my book.)

Cards 9, Braves 0

'Bout time.

Carp: 4 shut-out innings, and 2 RBIs
Rolen: 3-1-2-1
Duncan: 4-2-3-1
Spiez: 4-1-2-4

OK, it's only spring training, the Braves pitchers obviously didn't have their best stuff, and you never would expect much from Wes Obermueller. Put dropping a pounding on John Thompson is worth noticing.

And what about that Chris Duncan kid?



Sounds like it won't be long before he's a regular in the outfield (and rounding 3rd).

Go Cards!

Hair

Recently I've wondered why God decided to surprise us with hair in random locations as we aged.

Periodically, I will see a mutant white hair spiraling out of control from the top of my head. Besides its bizarre twisted form, it is twice the girth of its neighbors. And, it appears to have grown an inch overnight.

Then there's the hair that has taken up occupancy in and on my ears. I didn't used to have hair there. Why are you there, little nasty ear hairs? Fortunately my problems are minor compared to this poor fellow:

Eyebrow hair is another issue I've started to have to deal with. Again, my problems aren't nearly as bad as this poor dude that made it to the Guiness Book of World Records. Over 3 inches. Wow. Maybe the guy doesn't need his shades anymore?

Andy Rooney has quite a set of brows himself...

Of course there's back hair, which probably affects more men (and their poor wives) than we'll ever know.

I'm pretty sure unwanted hair is just more evidence of God's sense of humor.

I don't like toast

Yikes. Ugh. Groan. Could be a long season with Benny, Julian, or Alphonso as the #2 corner.

Awfully hard to see FAs like Law, Madison, and Woodson out there, with no apparent interest in pursuing one of them. (There was a reason the Fins D was dominant with Madison + Sammy + Surtain in coverage.)

Hope Herm knows what he's doing. He is a former DB, so he must see something that's not obvious to the rest of us.

Personally, I don't like toast.

Mama's Soup Surprise

I enjoy Cub Scout meetings, if for nothing else the songs and jokes. From tonight's meeting:

Q: Why did the chicken cross the road, roll in the mud, and cross the road again?

A: He was a dirty, double-crosser.

...

Mama's Soup Surprise
(sung to "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious")

Oh....... Chicken lips and lizard hips and alligator eyes,

Monkey legs and buzzard eggs and salamander thighs,

Rabbit ears and camel rears and tasty toenail pies,

Stir them all together and it's Mama's Soup Surprise!

Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay,
Um diddle diddle diddle um diddle ay...

(repeat, singing twice as fast each time)

Trace Bundy

Trace Bundy is one of my son's guitar heroes. We gave him the Adapt CD/DVD for his birthday last year, and last night he was playing some Trace Bundy for us. Amazing.

I had never seen anything like this before. Just listening doesn't give you a full appreciation -- you have to watch him play.

Some free videos from his site:

Dueling Ninjas
Canon
Urban Challenge
Adapt
Patanga
Hot Capo Stew

"That place is rockin!"

Finished reading Cell last night. Stephen King continues to spin some crazy yarns. I'm always amazed at his creative (and bizarre) genius.

I had a completely different opinion of the book than the most of the reviews I've read which lead you to think it's just the basis for another zombie movie. IMO, it's a story about human behavior when forced into extreme situations with interesting, well-developed characters I actually end up caring about.

Joke from book...

Q: What did Kenny G say when he got off the elevator?

A: "That place is rockin!"
...

Just read Diary of Adam and Diary of Eve from The Bible According to Mark Twain (another genius), an obvious precursor to Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus, written a century earlier.

daughters

Having daughters is harder than I ever could have imagined.

Maybe, in part, because I had no sisters.

Maybe, in part, because I am a male.

Maybe, in part, because I am simply clueless.

Help me, God.

D-O-O-D

Favorite unexpected dialogue from "The Island":

Clone 1: Hey. Gandu learned a new word from the censor.

Clone 2: What?

Gandu: "Dude."

Clone 2: "Dude?" What does it mean?

Gandu: He just called me dude... "Hey, dude."

Clone 2: He said "Hey, dude"?

Gandu: D-O-O-D. "Dude." Hey, dude!

Clone 2: Dude?

Gandu: Dude.

Gandu: Lottery's gonna start!

Clone 1: Like you stand a chance.

Gandu: Dude!

expectations

Beth and I sang at the funeral of Paul Cox yesterday, a long-time Garnett member.

It's always tough to say good bye to people, even if they're believers and they are done with the problems and struggles of this planet, and moving on to bigger and better things.

Paul's death, along with a sad death described in Grant Boone's blog (I don't know Grant or Kerri, I just read his blog from time to time), along with the anniversary of my big bro's death on March 7th, have made me think more than I usually do about death these last few days.

Some of the most difficult things I find about death, which Grant also refers to, are expectations of your behavior and demeanor after the death. You simply can't expect others to feel or behave like you would expect them to. But it's tough to suppress those expectations.

For several months I struggled with feelings of guilt after my brother Lowell died almost 2 years ago. The guilt came from realizing that I wasn't feeling the hurt as strongly as I did during the days right before and right after his death.

Then, there was the first day that I just didn't think about him. Major guilt.

My friend Jeanne is a professional at knowing how to deal with stuff like this, and even after telling myself repeatedly that I didn't need any type of counselling, she offered me some free help. I finally caved.

She convinced me that the ability to not focus on his death was a gift from God that would let the healing begin. After more tears, I could feel the weight dropping off my shoulders.

I still miss Lowell a lot, and I found myself crying a bit during some alone time yesterday, because I miss my good friend and bro. But I seldom, if ever, focus on his death or the events surrounding it anymore.

Thank God.

There are too many good times to remember, and look forward to.