Monday, March 27, 2006

That which changes us...

So that's what my kid looks like, wow, that's just gross and wrong isn't it? No wonder God doesn't let 'em come out looking that way, none of them would leave the hospitals.

John Welwood said "The most powerful agent of growth and transformation is something much more basic than any technique: a change of heart. "

Let me just say to all those macho types out there, this will change your heart. My kid is only in his fifth week of developing into a human and I've already experienced changes within myself that anyone who knows me would tell you are a big deal.

Just this past weekend alone I cooked like three times, and I actually vacuumed, did the dishes and cleaned up the laundry room. And guess what? I still had time to do some manly stuff like burn myself with a soldering iron while I was trying to fix a guitar tuner. Isn't that awesome (my finger still stings, damn those things get hot).

I don't know, I'm just in a different place with my perspective, I care even more about what my wife thinks of certain plan and ideas that I have and I really want her input more than ever before. I mean, I always valued her opinion, but now it's like I need it before I can proceed.

It's great, the well wishes and everything. Everyone makes it sound so exciting.

And then there's that part of you that's worried that you won't have a clue what to do with this little person once they actually exist. I mean I know what I'll name her once she's here. But that seems to be all I know beyond the obvious functions that every human must perform.

Thankfully I have found an awesome book that was written by a guy who has my wonderful sense of humor. Through that I've been able to learn a few good things, hopefully more will come before I am finished reading.

I never thought that I would feel so completely up in the air about anything in my life, but then again "It is a bad plan that admits of no modification." Or at least, that's what Publilius Syrus said back in the first century B.C. Good thing my plan with my wife did admit modification, in case you're wondering, that means, "allow change."

change gives us branches ~Pauline R. Kezer

I am excited and nervous in a hundred different ways right now, but that's okay, I shouldn't know everything. I've never done this from start to adulthood before. In fact, I've only had limited practice in a few stages that come right in the middle of the start and adulthood. So here's hopin' I don't screw this kid up too bad, leave him with some good morals, and teach her how to get by without having to constantly scrounge and borrow. If I can do that much, I think I can feel pretty good about it, but hopefully I will do better than just that.

Till next time then...and wish me luck...

Thursday, March 23, 2006

Damn Teachers

So what does everyone out there think about this? I'm curious because I've heard it spread all over the conservative airwaves this week that if Debbie LaFave were a man, or even if she were
just less attractive, then there would be no argument, she'd be in jail.

Is that true? Would it really not matter if it were a male teacher that looked like George Clooney? Would your outlook be any different is she were less attractive, or if she were older (think Madeline Albright or Hilary Clinton)???

Face it, if she were a man, she'd be in prison, end of story. It wouldn't matter if the teacher was 23 and the student was 17, if the teacher was a guy, he'd be looking through bars for a good many years. That's all there is too it.

It really sickens me that we can justify this behavior in our own country while simultaneously saying that the war in Iraq is immoral. Maybe we should think about that a little.

I guess I could understand the lackluster attitude if it had been a college professor and student, but it wasn't, and even then, a man would, at the very least, be fired for the indescretion.

Wait, I know, affairs are always the man's fault, right? Okay, but how do you explain this one then? Because you see, there is no man involved here. There is merely a 14 year-old child who was taken advantage by a 23 year-old woman who should've known better, or at the very least, shoul've been more responsible in her decision making.

"But she has mental illness" you say. Well, okay, let's put her in an institution to serve her sentence then. Isn't that what you'd do with a mentally ill person who murder or beat someone? How are Ms. LaFave's actions any less predatory than that? Please tell me...anyone?

Here is the problem. We are in a culture that just doens't give a damn. The kid should just be happy he won't die a virgin. And we she just be thankful she didn't molest any small children, cuz those are the real criminals, right?

But think about this kid having to explain all of this to the woman he hopes to someday marry. How hard is that going to be for him to share? How hard for her to hear? And in the end, will it be the deal breaker for his lifelong happiness?

My heart goes out to this kid and his family. I want to encourage them to talk about this and expose all of their true feelings about it. Do this in a controlled environment, and do it until everyone has gotten everything out. It's his only hope of not being completely screwed up for life from all of this.

And to those of you who think it's no big deal. Maybe we should send your asses to Iraq, at least then we wouldn't have to put up with your apathy anymore.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

When It All Goes South

I currently have a vision that everyone be in control of themselves at all times, because if we cannot be in control of ourselves, we cannot be in control of anything.

To this pursuit I have decided to give myself to meditation and prayer throughout a greater amount of time each day. My theory is that if I can meditate on what is eating me up, or angering, me, then I will be able to identify it and pray for the resources and conviction to control my reactions and perceptions of the antecedents. This is going to make quitting smoking a royal pain, but I've only had 3 in the last two months, so I've got some confidence.

Now it's story time...

If you're like me then you had an anger problem through your teenage year's, it waned somewhere in the latter parts of your high school career, and slapped you boldly in the face some 5 years later.

Now you're confused, you could've sworn this was under control, there was nothing that set you off like that anymore. The last time you took such a foolish action you were merely 14 years old, but you're a man now. A 23 year old man. You've got a wife and kids. You have a decent job. Yes you've been fighting with your parents again, but what else is new, you haven't really stopped in the last ten years.

As you pick up the footstool you just ripped across the room, you notice the four large gouges in your closet door. Now you're really irritated, but not physically, just mentally, and you start to realize this is becoming a cycle, and that means that you really...really...Don't wanna talk about it.

But of course she's going to ask you what happened, and you lie "I don't know..." You know you'll tell her you did it, and how, but you just can't face it right now. You haven't been out of control in a long, long time. And you need to figure out how to get back in control before this happens in front of the wrong person. Thank God you've never gone out of your way to hurt anyone, save your little brother, but that's normal, and he was a pain in the ass growing up.

So you finish the dishes and admit you lied, as much out of guilt as a need to be honest with her.

Now here it comes, the "you need to get help" bit, "you've never been like this"...

But you know different, and you tell her so...

"You can't just control this on you own forever you know?" comes the reply

She's right of course, you can't control it forever, but you can control it, and if you're careful you can have at least another five years without doing anything stupid again, in fact, with some age and some wisdom maybe you can have ten or twenty. By then people will just figure you're in your mid-life crisis anyways.

Do yourself a favor. Think very seriously about everything leading up to the snap that occurred. I don't mean the last six months, or even the last six weeks, but think about at least the seven days leading up to it, what was, or wasn't, going on around you. What did you think was being communicated to you? What did you think others true emotions toward you were?

What made you so damn mad? And what caused you to react the way you did at the moment you did?

These questions all play into each other, and until you start to ask them, you're not going to find any answers. Good luck my friends!!!

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

Hero Death

It seems that too often in our lives we are slapped, suddenly and unexpectedly, with the death of our heroes. It only makes sense that this is always a shock to us. They're our heroes. Nothing can hurt them...until it kills them.

Recently, today in fact, I have experienced just such a loss. The loss that I'm sure a thousand other people across the US, maybe even the world, are writing, at the very least, a blurb about. The loss of Kirby Puckett.

Maybe it shouldn't be a shock, I mean, he's always been quite overweight, I heard a local sportscaster, Randy Shaver, describe him as "more of a bowling ball than a gazelle" just this morning. And anyone who watched Kirby would've had to nod their head, if not chuckle, a little anyway.

Somebody reading this will question that I just call him Kirby and not 'Mr. Puckett'. If that's you, you're not from Minnesota, when Kirby was playing here we weren't just watching baseball, we were inviting him into our living rooms, into our homes, into our hearts. He became a part of our family, along with many others during that time.

There is no man, woman, or child alive that can deny hearing his name called '...Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrbyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy Puuuuuuuckett...' would send a chill down your spine, because you just knew this guy was great.

He may not have hit the most home runs, or stole the most bases, but he love us, and we loved him, and when he left, we all knew that baseball in Minnesota would not be the same for a very long time, in fact, it may never be.

I don't know why I choose now, and this to start my blog. I've thought about it before, but this time I did it. Maybe it will be a good outlet for my frustrations at work, and at home, with family and friends alike.

But today I want to share with those who are mourning with me. The ones who, as my co-workers have said this morning, aren't in need of a help line, and just want to send a card to the family to let them know they have our support.

If you never got the chance to sit in 'the dome' and hear his name called, I'm truly sorry, if you did, I'm truly sorry.

As I leave you I am listen to a rendition of a hero song with newscuts of 'Puck' and in his words," you have to do one thing for me, promise me you will not take life for granted (because you never know when it will end)."

Give here!!