On the heels of my smashing haiku debut, this caught my eye. I wish I had known; I’m betting that it would have paid more than 6000 pennies.
My first thought was: I spent my life examining eyes. But then another one came to me, better still:
The answer was “two” all along.
Your life story in six words. Hit me with your best shot.
Charlie, Clay and Joe, these are for you.
As for the rest of Team Wannabe: Where were you?
Wimps.
———————————————————————-
single digit chill
icy sweat clings to my beard
wicked rugged dude
sunrise four men run
8 miles over road and trail
they live weak “men” sleep
we are a phalanx
cars on donut runs move quick
shake fists gaze in awe
ordinary daze
sunday comes wannabes run
it’s good it’s all good
I’m usually the only one up this early, but this morning I have company. Amazing Gracie The Wonderdog rose early to join me, and is now curled up beside me in “her” recliner for the first of several morning naps. A few moments ago, Number Two passed through on his way to work. He’s a lifeguard at the local YMCA and today he’s working the early shift.
He’s only been working there since the first of the year but has been putting in a lot of hours in an effort to help pay for a trip to Germany this summer. He looks the part–long and lanky, warm-up suit over the trunks, flip-flops (even though it’s in the 30s) and a whistle around his neck.… Read the rest
I just happened to turn my eyes in the right direction at just the right time–and there he was. My old high school friend Eric was on his way out the door of a Barnes & Noble in Roanoke, Virginia on Christmas Eve, but I managed to wave him down before he slipped away. We had not seen each other in about 8 years, and I thought that it might take him a few seconds to recognize me. But it actually only took him about two. He had the firm, well-practiced handshake of a politician, which he was–or, at least, had wanted to be.… Read the rest
Remember the old expression, “A penny for your thoughts?”
Well, if someone ever says that to you, my best advice is to hold out for more. You see, I’ve discovered somebody who’s willing to pay me 6000 pennies a month for my thoughts! Not Bob Woodward. Not George Will. Not Dave Barry. But me. Little old me.
Now I know how excited The Soggy Bottom Boys must have been when they found out that they could actually get paid for singing into a can.
I’ve been dropping a few hints lately that I might be branching out a bit from blogging this year, and I’m pleased to report that has come to pass.… Read the rest
There are two things that soothe my soul these days, three places where I find some much-needed grace and peace…
At a Barnes & Noble on a Friday afternoon, a cup of coffee in hand, perusing the recent releases and the latest bargin bin deals. My reward for a hard week’s work…
Near the end of a Saturday morning 10-mile run, when the endorphins hit my bloodstream with a mighty roar. Natural opiates–a gift from God…
Kneeling at the altar rail of an old, liturgical church, hearing the priest say, “The Body of Christ, the Bread of Heaven; the Blood of Christ, the Cup of Salvation.”… Read the rest
As the polls closed and the pundits pontificated Tuesday evening, the grassroots gab was flying fast and furious in the cramped study of a modest, lily-white, suburban ranch home somewhere in the Deep South:
Fourteen-year-old son: So Dad, what’s the deal with these primaries?
Pater Familias: They’re the process that each party uses to select its nominee for the general election. In most cases, the candidates are competing for that state’s delegates who would then have to promise to vote for the winner at the convention next summer.
Son: Okaaay…so Pops, if Hillary wins, are we going to move?
PF: Move where?… Read the rest
Ah, at last, a dispatch from the trenches of The Granite State. Thanks, Bill. I knew you would come through for us.
This is The Eyeguy–over and out.… Read the rest
…zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Why start off 2008 with a laundry list of resolutions that I know I won’t keep? No, no, better to make anti-resolutions, things that I know, absolutely without a doubt, I will never, ever do this year…
1) Serve on another committee. I wasn’t just any committee member. I was a bona fide read-all-the-emails, attend-all-the-meetings, believed-I-could-actually-make-a-difference kind of committee member. I was determined to overcome my natural cynicism and play well with others. Ha! What was I thinking? Eyegal kept telling me: “Careful, Mike, you’re gonna get burned.”
I hate it the way she’s right all the time. Bureaucracies, whether they be at work or church (and sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference), suck.… Read the rest
Have you ever seen the same thing a million times, but in a moment of great clarity, suddenly seen it in an entirely different way? If so, then you know how I felt last night as I road-tripped with Eyegal and some good friends to the beautifully restored Alabama Theatre in downtown Birmingham for a showing of the classic Christmas feel-good film, It’s a Wonderful Life.
A television rerun or a DVD don’t do the deed like the flashing neon sign, the gleaming, waxed floors and the gilded, cathedral-like trimmings of The Alabama. Throw in a Wurlitzer that rises like a wailing phantom from beneath the stage floor, audience sing-a-longs of “Oh Come All Ye Faithful” and “Buffalo Gals” and a retro Disney cartoon for an appetizer, and you suddenly find yourself drifting back to the 1940s, a time when real gentlemen wore woolly, tweed suits and flashy fedoras down to the corner market, and ladies, in their form-flattering skirts and soft, feminine blouses, charmed passersby and flaunted their sizzling sexuality without shedding a single stitch of clothing.… Read the rest
It was a most unusual request to make at the end of a funeral: Please exit the building, walk to the parking lot, and look toward the sky.
Out the mourning masses went, the gravity of their grief pressing down on their shoulders like some kind of inviolable physical law. They knew what was coming, but the poetry of the moment still startled and stirred their souls. Two jets, one trailing a colorful, smoky ribbon of tribute, streaked past and were gone an instant later, reminding the mourners of the brevity of it all, of the “need for speed” in making things right in the time that we have.… Read the rest
I’ve had the privilege of teaching many interns and residents over the years, and it’s always a joy to see them sally forth and take on the world. Although some have made me nervous (are you sure you’re ready for this?), others, such as Dr. Curt Gales, were obviously destined to accomplish great things.
I was Curt’s preceptor during his residency at Fox Army Hospital in 1996-97. He was, without a doubt, one of the best students I ever had. Emboldened with the kind of confidence and independent spirit that can only come from driving a combine on a Kansas wheat farm at the age of twelve, Curt never flinched at any difficult case or task that we assigned him.… Read the rest
In keeping with my current theme of saying little and listening a lot, I will say this: This is what I’m listening to.
Some in my beloved Church of Christ tradition will ask this question: Yeah, but can you understand what they’re saying?
Answer: No, not really (save for a phrase or two now and then). But it doesn’t really matter. You see, there is more to God than print on a page, and there are some things that bypass the left brain and head straight to the soul.
… Read the rest“There’s a world in front of me I can’t predict or envision because I haven’t been there yet. I haven’t lived this yet. I haven’t lived blind,” he says. “All I ask is to stay in the Army and finish out my years … I want to feel productive.”
The only good news for now is when he sleeps, Castro says.
“I’ve had dreams where I know I’m blind and, guess what? I’ve regained my vision,” he says. Reality floods back each morning.
“There’s not a night that I don’t pray and ask God, when I wake up, that I wake up seeing.”
