C’mon In Boys, The Water Is Fine–Part 1

“Well that’s it, boys. I’ve been redeemed. The preacher’s done warshed away all my sins and transgressions. It’s the straight and narrow from here on out, and heaven everlasting’s my reward…Neither God nor man’s got nothin’ on me now. C’mon in boys, the water is fine.”

–Delmar O’Donnell in O Brother Where Art Thou

The phone rang in the middle of the night, shattering my blissful slumber like a Louisville Slugger against a plate-glass window.

Okay, whoa—better nix the miserable metaphor and start over. It was really only 10:30pm. But after the kind of day I had Sunday, I needed the extra rest.… Read the rest

Pitch Perfect

Philip Yancey is one of my favorite contemporary Christian writers. My first exposure to him was during my premed days at Harding when I read Fearfully and Wonderfully Made, a book he coauthored with Dr. Paul Brand. Since then, he’s only become better and more prolific. As someone who in the past has described himself as a “reluctant Christian,” Yancey to me feels like spiritual next-of-kin.

Two weeks after the Virginia Tech massacre, Yancey waded into the morass of grief that was Blacksburg, Virginia and delivered these words.

I sent this link to Number One Son, figuring that he might appreciate some of the things that Yancey had to say as he prepares to take up the tricky business of learning and living out his faith on a state university campus.… Read the rest

Father’s Day Postscript

If you’re a dad, I hope it went well. For me, everyone basically left me alone on the couch all afternoon to ice my right ankle which I rolled badly while running a trail yesterday morning and to rehydrate after crashing and burning in the rising morning heat somewhere around mile eight.

Man, it just doesn’t get any better than that.

Consigned to the couch, I watched the US Open. I don’t play golf and rarely watch it, but I was trapped. But it became interesting and even mildly dramatic, going down to the final hole before a winner was decided.… Read the rest

Rx

Malady: 45-year-old Caucasian male who should know better running 6 miles, including over a mile of hills ranging in grade from 5-15%, finishing last mile in 7:30

Rx: A 20 oz. bottle of orange Gatorade, two, no, better make that three 200mg ibuprofen tablets, deep muscle massage with one of these and whatever you want to eat, including…

copious amounts of ice cream and apple cobbler.

… Read the rest

What, Me Floss?

I just returned from my semiannual teeth cleaning at my dentist’s office. After 20 minutes of me suppressing my gag reflex while my hygienist rooted around in my mouth with a sandblaster, an industrial strength shop-vac, tiny pickaxe and enough gauze to wrap King Tut five times over, she declared:

“Either you’re completely fooling me or you’ve been doing much better with your flossing.”

What, me floss? Wow, a Pollyanna dental hygienist–I didn’t know they existed.

All I can say is: Ha! Gotcha!

I floss the same way that many of my patients use their glaucoma drops: that is, only during the week leading up to my next appointment.… Read the rest

Camille’s Back

There is the endless drone of the mainstream press serving up bland portions of the same o’ same o’, and then there is Camille Paglia.

I have a confession: I dig a lot (but certainly not all) of her stuff. Yeah, I know, I know, she’s a gay-atheist-feminist with a fetish for homoeroticism, but nobody’s perfect, right? Still, apparently beholden to no one, she writes things that others are too wimpish to even think, and does so with a vim and verve that are a rare sight in today’s media landscape.

She’s taken some time off, but Camille’s back. And just in the nick of time to make things interesting.… Read the rest

Real Men Wear Unisuits

unisuit.jpgI can’t remember if we were watching a college wrestling match or a ballet performance a few years back when Number Two Son looked at the form-fitting outfits that one of the participants was wearing and declared emphatically, “I’ll never wear one of those.”

Of course, those of us with a few more miles on our odometers and who’ve forced down our fill of crow over the years could have reminded him of the old adage: Never say never.

This past fall after club soccer season ended, Number Two was looking for a way to get into even better physical condition and for a sport to occupy his time during the spring since his school didn’t field a soccer team.… Read the rest

Stranger Than Fiction

I know that tawdry stories such as this and this can catch a person’s eye like a bad case of conjunctivitis. Life is truly sometimes stranger than fiction.

So may I humbly suggest that this weekend you focus your peepers on this instead.

Thanks to my favorite law professor for recommending Stranger Than Fiction. It’s not often that I gush over a movie rental. But this morning, I’m overflowing like Old Faithful. Will Farrell, Maggie Gyllenhall, Emma Thompson, Queen Latifah and Dustin Hoffman combine to produce a sober but soothing feast snack for the soul. There’s also a delightful reference to Space Camp for you Huntsville folks, plus some funny cameos by some guys whom you’ll recognize immediately.… Read the rest

Eat Fresh

The door to the late model Buick swung open and the first thing I saw was his feet.

And then, like a telescope unfolding and revealing it’s hidden length, he stood in segments; first the lower legs, next his thick thighs, followed by the elongated trunk, one arm and then the other. He was wearing an Auburn ball cap, its bill pushed back a little revealing rivulets of sweat forming on his forehead in response to the rising heat of an early Alabama summer. He was six foot seven if he was an inch. But as he pivoted toward the door of the Subway Sandwich Shop on Governors Drive, I saw that his height wasn’t his only prodigious proportion.… Read the rest

The Cure Is Worse Than The Disease

Having just attended a somewhat (okay very) rowdy high school graduation ceremony, this one caught my eye and made me glad that I live in Huntsville, Alabama rather than Galesburg, Illinois.

Which one do you think is worse, someone not hearing their kid’s name called when she walks across the stage, or someone walking across the stage and holding out her hand to receive her diploma only to have it taken back later? What a nice graduation picture (and memory) that last one would make.

Sometimes the cure is worse than the disease.… Read the rest

Forrest Knows Best

gumpbamacoach.jpgSome of us will be headed down to Tuscaloosa later today so that Number One can attend Bama Bound, the student orientation at the University of Alabama. Needless to say, he’ll be facing some very tough decisions.

Nah, I’m not talking about classes. I figure that there’ll be plenty of sections of “N’Yuck, N’Yuck, N’Yuk–The Three Stooges in the 21st Century” and “Careers in Guitar Hero–You Too Can Be Ronnie Van Zant” to choose from.

I’m talking about more important stuff like football.

You see, since the resurgence of interest in Crimson Tide football following the hiring of multimillion dollar messiah Nick Saban, the student government moved last spring to only allow entering freshman to attend part of the scheduled home games so that more tickets could be spread around and more students could attend.… Read the rest

My Three Sons

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Fred MacMurray never had it this good.

(H/t to running buddy Joe V. and his big, long lens for the shot of Number One receiving his diploma).

Grissom High mercifully moved 469 grads through the line with machine-like efficiency.

Chaos did start to descend on the affair, though, by the time they got to the “S’s.” As the shout-outs and air horns grew louder and more boisterous, the grads who had received their diplomas returned to their seats and began to blow up the large number of inflatable balls that they had smuggled in beneath their robes.

At first the faculty members tried to confiscate the balls, but after they saw them propagating like rabbits, they finally gave up.… Read the rest