So, I Hear There’s a National Title Game Tzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
…zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
My Top Ten Anti-Resolutions for 2008
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
Banes, Blessings and Broken Banister Knobs
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
Fly Over
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
Hooah, Captain Gales
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
Straight to the Soul
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.
Night Vision
… 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.”
The Last of the Doughboys
Although yesterday was officially Veterans Day, every day is Veterans Day for me. By virtue of my choice of practice, I have the privilege of providing eye care to “him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan” (and increasingly these days, her as well).
I consider it an honor and a privilege to care for these men and women who are, by and large, among the most decent, salt-of-the-earth folks you’ll ever meet. Indeed, they are cut from a finer grade of cloth than any politician who ever sent them into battle. At this point in my career, if I was suddenly thrust into a situation where I had to care for the well-to-do and whiny LASIK/liposuction crowd, I would probably end up strangling someone in frustration.… Read the rest
Migrating Blogs
For those of you who might have stopped by since last Saturday, you probably noticed that the old blog appeared deader than a doorknob. You may have thought: Uh oh, The Eyeguy’s done up and gone off the deep end this time–he’s committed blogicide.
Nah. I would never do that. But my blog has been “migrating.”
Which leads to the following question: When blogs migrate, do they fly in formation?
Well, here’s the short of it. Basically, my hosting company was bought out by an outfit called NaviSite. Now you would think with a cool name like NaviSite that they would actually know what the heck they were doing and have a clue about navigating and migrating and such.… Read the rest
A Hot Time In T-town
It looks like it’s going to be a hot time in T-town tomorrow night.
A few minutes ago, I received this email from the University of Alabama Athletic Department:
… Read the restDear Crimson Tide Fan:
As we approach the home stretch of our 2007 home football schedule, I want to thank each of you for your support throughout this season, both at Bryant-Denny and at the away venues. You have helped make a difference for Coach Nick Saban and the Crimson Tide football team, and all of us at the University are appreciative of your contribution each and every Saturday.
Certainly, this weekend’s game presents a challenge not only to our team and coaches but to our game management personnel as well.
Bricks
Just a reminder: Be kind to those who cross your path today.
There’s no telling what bricks they may be carrying around in their pockets.
Now That’s Trickeration
I was in Jackson, Mississippi with Number Three Son on Saturday attending The Crossroads of the South Invitational sponsored by The Jackson Futbol Club. Kudos to the club and the city for putting on one of the best tournaments we’ve ever attended.
Number Three’s U-15 United squad played very well, winning their bracket by defeating a Chicago Fire junior team 3-1. Despite carrying the field in both possession and shots on goal in the semifinal, we fell 1-0 off a free kick from 35 yards out (one of only 3 shots on goal our opponents had all afternoon) that slipped past our keeper’s fingers and just under the crossbar.… Read the rest
She’s No Lumberjack’s Wife
All you Fusioneers who are waiting around with bated breath for the reincarnation resurrection of Ocular Fusion into whatever-the-heck-it’s-gonna-become are no doubt starving for something good to read in my absence.
Well, never fear, my friend Jason is here. Jason, former youth minister and now associate minister and right hand man to the Big Kahuna, would be the first to tell you that he’s not afraid to explore the feminine side of things, and of course, these days, there’s no shame in that. So it was no surprise, really, that he freely admits to reading this.
He got one thing wrong, though–she’s no lumberjack’s wife.… Read the rest
Registration, Please
I hate to do it, but I’m going to have to ask for registration prior to any future comments. I’ve had some malicious spam that has slipped through my Super-Duper Askimet Spam Zapper the past two days, both times apparently resulting in some corruption of my WordPress files.
For you 35 or so regular commenters, it’s really no big deal. You just do a one-time registration (no one besides me will see your name or email), then you’ll receive a password. When you log back in you’ll have the option to change the password to one of your choice, and then all you have to do is ask your browser to remember the password when it prompts you.… Read the rest
Uh, Hey Vols
Uh, hey Vols. Uh, hey Vols. Uh, hey Vols.
We just beat the, well, you know, crap out of you.
Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer, give’em, well, you know, heck Alabama!
Roll Tide, Roll!
UPDATE 10/22: For those of you from other parts of the country and world who may be unsure of what I’m talking about, here’s the Full Monty version of the “Rammer Jammer” from field level. This is what it sounded like to Phil Fulmer.
Take a good listen, Tommy–you’re next.